Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to the incomparable J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Malfoy Manor was no longer the place it once was. The carefully tended lawns were charred and scuffed, the topiary animals were missing limbs, and the building itself was a skeleton of the place it used to be. Hermione had done a real number on the place.
The East Wing was still largely in tact, as were the wards, and so that was where he was heading. He wove his way through crumbling doorways and over fallen furniture, glad to see that someone had had the foresight to use reinforcing charms on the wreckage.
The Dark Lord was in his usual parlour. Wormtail was scuttling about the room trying to look busy whilst the Dark Lord thoroughly ignored him.
"Severus, what brings you here?" The unspoken "away from where I have ordered you to be" hung in the air between them.
Severus bowed low, kneeling before his lord. "I have information for you, my lord."
"Information?" He did not bid his servant to rise.
"Yes, my lord, information about Potter." The snake-like man's ruby eyes lit up, his posture stiffening. "Before they left the safety of the old Order of the Phoenix headquarters last month, they took an old portrait from one of the bedrooms and kept it locked away in some kind of magical container."
"Whose portrait, Severus?"
"Phineas Nigellus Black, a former headmaster of Hogwarts and one who sympathises with your noble cause."
"And what does this Black have to say?"
"The children normally have the container closed, possibly a bag of some sort, but they appear to have been less stringent of late. He heard them discussing plans for Samhain."
"What plans, Severus? I must know."
"Of course, my lord. It seems that Potter is planning some form of seance. He wishes to communicate with his parents."
"And where will he be doing this?"
"Pendle Hill, my lord."
"Why there?"
"As I'm sure you're aware, this kind of magic is strongly bound with family ties, particularly maternal ties. Pendle Hill is the closest place of power to where his mother was born. A seance conducted there will have the best chance of succeeding."
"Show me."
Never using subtlety where force will suffice, the Dark Lord tore into his mind, devouring the carefully staged memory between himself and Phineas. Severus reeled back ever so slightly as his master exited with a vicious tug.
"We will have to make sure that Harry Potter doesn't get to reunite with his mudblood mummy. A fortnight is plenty of time to make preparations. You have done well, Severus."
"Thank you, my lord. Anything to help bring about the new order this world so desperately needs."
When the Dark Lord turned away, he knew he was dismissed. He rose from the floor, ignoring the creak of protestation from his knees, and backed silently out of the room.
He was nearly over the manor's crumbling threshold when a voice called him back.
"Severus!" He turned to face Lucius, forcing down the bile the rose in his throat on seeing his old friend's face. "How the devil are you? It's been weeks. You wouldn't believe how dull it gets here."
Severus curled his hands into fists, letting his fingernails bite into his palms. "Oh, I don't know, it looks like you've had some excitement here recently." He gestured to the broken shell of the once-beautiful building. "And I'm sure the Snatchers bring plenty of … entertainment your way." He focused on the plan, it was crucial to keep his cover intact if they wanted to bring down the Dark Lord.
"I suppose that's true," Lucius said with the half-smile Severus had always found so charming, humour twinkling in his grey eyes. "I did enjoy making that mudblood bitch scream before she burnt my house down." Breathe, Severus, breathe. He reminded himself that Hermione was okay. She'd survived and was stronger for it. "That was the most extreme case of accidental magic I've ever seen in an adult." If Lucius had ruled it as accidental, Severus wasn't about to correct him. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised at his friend's mistake, Draco had nearly burnt down his nursery when his favourite toy had been taken away from him. " It's a miracle I made it out alive."
"Not everyone did though, did they?" he asked as though genuinely curious.
"Unfortunately not." The deaths of his colleagues didn't keep the smile from his face for long. "Can I tempt you into my temporary study for a scotch? I could use some company."
"I'm afraid not, Lucius. If I leave the school in the hands of the Carrows for too long, it's liable to start falling down. Perhaps when things have settled down?" he asked. "You know how children can be."
Severus clasped the blond's hand briefly in his own, tamping down the urge to strangle his long-time friend, and strode off down the charred lawn, not bothering to stick to the path.
"Are you ready for this, Hermione?"
"Yes! It'll be fine."
"It won't be easy to convince them to join us."
Hermione and Severus were disillusioned and standing on the edge of a small road in East Lancashire. A small cottage lay beyond the hedge next to them; it put Hermione in mind of the witch's house in Hansel and Gretel except without all the gingerbread. Lilac smoke plumed from the chimney, catching in the feline weather vane before drifting off into the overcast sky. Hermione cancelled her charm and pushed open the bright yellow gate nestled between two blackberry bushes. Chimes tinkled as it swung open and she made her way up the cobbled path, a vegetable garden on one side and a potions garden on the other. Chickens rambled near a narrow hutch and a couple of goats were tied in a paddock.
She checked behind her to make sure Severus was still with her. He was glowering slightly but following her all the same.
"What is the matter with you?" Hermione asked. "We're not going to convince anyone if you go marching in there looking like the Grim Reaper."
His stony face twitched slightly before he gave her a half-smile, revealing a dimple. She was about to stop and kiss it when the front door to the cottage banged open.
"Can I help you?"
The tall woman in the doorway had iron curls, a pair of spectacles holding them out of her eyes, and a broad nose. She was dressed in a mauve velour tracksuit with green wellington boots and a flowered apron. Her appearance threw Hermione off for a moment.
"Erm, yes. Hi. Sorry to bother you, my name's Hermione Granger and I was wondering if I could run something by you."
"And who's your friend?"
"This is Sev-"
"Severus Snape, well I never. Eileen's lad, right?" He nodded. "I haven't seen you since you were knee-high to a goblin. But that was before she sent you off to that quack school."
"I teach there now," Severus said, raising a single eyebrow.
"I guess we've got a lot to talk about then," she said. "You'd better come in."
The cottage was a curious mix of traditional wizarding paraphernalia and muggle technology. A small, square television perched precariously on a stack of encyclopaedias, the comfortable couches were covered in crocheted cushions, books lined homemade-looking shelves (their subjects ranging from herblore to jam-making and car maintenance), and a large fireplace played host to an iron cauldron giving off spiralling, purple fumes.
True to form, Severus immediately inspected the contents of the cauldron, giving it a stir and sniffing the brown goop left on the stirring rod.
"Why on Earth do you need this much anti-fungal ointment?"
"I see your nose is as good as it ever was, boy," she said with a look of approval. "Of course, you'd hope so given the size of it."
"Given that logic, I assume you have keen hearing."
"Severus," Hermione hissed. "Play nice."
The woman huffed but her solemn face cracked into a rough approximation of a grin. "Thirty years've gone by and yet nothing's changed. Sit down, the pair of you and I'll fetch some refreshment."
She disappeared into what Hermione assumed was the kitchen and was back barely a moment later with a tray of orange squash and custard creams, forcibly reminding Hermione of her primary school days. She stamped a wellied foot hard into the packed-dirt floor and a large rectangle of earth sprang upwards, legs growing to bridge the gap to the floor. She placed the tray down on this newly-created coffee table and sank down into an armchair, creating a footstool with a tap of her foot.
Hermione was aware that she was staring wide-eyed and opened-mouthed but she couldn't help herself. She guessed this was the friend Severus's gran used to talk about.
"Keeping permanent furniture clutters the floor," she said by way of explanation. "Now, what brings you here, Miss … err … remind me of your name, dove."
"Hermione Granger," she said, uncertainly offering the older woman a hand.
"Emilia Heathershaw," she said, painfully wringing Hermione's much smaller hand. "Most people 'round here call me Granny Em."
"I think I'll stick to Emilia if it's all the same to you," Severus said snidely.
"Call me whatever you want, boy, if it makes you feel better. Doesn't make a blind bit of difference to me."
They sank into an awkward silence. At least it felt awkward to Hermione, but Emilia seemed completely at ease, picking up her knitting and resuming work on something that looked like a giant tea cosy.
After completing a line or two, she spoke without looking up. "Are you going to tell me why you're here? Or would you prefer to wait silently for a while longer instead?"
Hermione could almost feel the frustration rolling of Severus in waves.
"Right," she said, deciding it was best if she took the lead, "I'm sure you've heard about the problems He Who Must Not Be Named has been causing of late?"
"Yes, he seems to be making quite a nuisance of himself." That was the understatement of the century.
"Well, yes. Anyway, we're trying to destroy him once and for all and were wondering if your community of mages would be willing to help."
"I can't see that it's any business of ours. He's left the community untouched as of yet," she said with a shrug.
"So, you won't help us?" Severus asked, his voice dangerously low. "You won't help because there's nothing in it for you?"
"Basically."
"But you have to know that he'll come for you eventually? He won't tolerate any magical community living outside of his rule. You have to see that?"
"Why are you asking, anyway? Last I heard, you'd joined up with him."
"Well, I guess your information is outdated," he snarled, his face settling into a stony mask.
"You still haven't presented me with a reason we should help," Emilia said, raising an eyebrow in such a way that Hermione wondered if she was whom Severus had learnt it from.
"If the future of your community isn't enough to convince you, maybe knowing that the elements demand it is enough."
"The elements demand it?" she asked, sceptical.
"Fire."
"Fire? Are you sure, boy? There hasn't been fire in centuries."
"Show her, Hermione."
"Erm, right," Hermione said, "okay." She opened out her hand and let her bluebell flames fill her palm.
"Pfft," Emilia said, "You call a fist full of flames the Return of Fire?"
"A week ago, she razed Malfoy Manor to the ground with those flames," Severus said, smugly.
"To the ground?" Emilia asked. "Well, that is impressive. But you said the elements, plural, demand it?"
"I have reason to believe that a coalescence is emerging. We'll need all the help we can get."
"A coalescence? You don't mean …?"
"I do."
He joined his water to Hermione's still crackling fire and a brilliant light filled the cottage, dazzling those within before it winked out.
"Well, then," Emilia said, "I guess if the elements demand it, it isn't my place to refuse."
Severus left Hermione in the bed they'd been sharing in the Hog's Head's attic. He dressed quickly in the half-light of dawn and dropped a kiss on her temple before silently leaving the room. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to waking up next to her but he was going to do everything in his power to do it for as long as possible.
Despite the early hour, the pub was a hive of activity. The private functions room had been turned into a training room of sorts. Witches and wizards alike, students and adults, practised throwing spells and dodging rebounding curses. They were all pretty proficient when it came to magic but only the aurors and quidditch players really had the fitness and reflexes they would need in battle. Those who were struggling made use of the obstacle course the Weasley twins had devised. Participants had to duck under and climb over obstacles all the while avoiding the stinging pellets that that were randomly flung at the user. Severus had tried it himself and had only just escaped unscathed.
Luna Lovegood was in one corner throwing jinxes at one of the rebound walls, dodging her own spells with oddly ethereal grace, her bare feet feather-light.
"Good work, Miss Lovegood," he said as she twirled out of the way of a well-cast impediment jinx.
"Thank you, sir." She was barely out of breath. "I find that as long as there aren't too many wrackspurts around, I find dodging quite easy."
"It appears that way, yes." He had absolutely no intention of asking what wrackspurts were. He'd made that mistake earlier in the week when he requested an explanation of what a blimperding was. He'd been treated to a rather long and nonsensical story of their characteristics and of the expedition she and her father had undertaken to find them the previous summer. "Wrap up your practice shortly. I don't want anyone late for breakfast."
"Yes, sir. I'll be along in two shakes of an erumpent's tail."
"See that you are."
He left the girl to her practice and made his way to the portrait of Ariana Dumbledore in the corridor that led to the barroom. Nodding to the young girl in greeting, he stepped through the portrait and into the passage to the Room of Requirement.
The magical room was even busier than the headquarters he had just left. He made his way through as quickly as possible, conscious of the way students would go silent and shuffle out of his way as he passed. They may have accepted that he was on their side but most of them would never feel comfortable around him. Too much had happened for that.
The room allowed him to exit straight into his bedroom and he was surprised when he wasn't immediately accosted by Butch.
"About time you got back," Bel said from his bed, Butch tucked between her legs and enjoying a head scratch.
"What brings you here so early?" Severus asked, going over and sinking down next to his dog. "It's not like you to be up at this time."
"I haven't been to bed yet." That sounded more like it. "I've been patrolling all night. Minerva asked me to; the Carrows were in a particularly vindictive mood last night. I was sneaking around, trying to usher any rule-breakers back to their beds before the terrible twosome could find them."
"Did anyone get caught?" he asked, anxious.
"They nearly caught up with the Creevy brothers but I managed to intercept them." She pulled a face. "Although now I'm worried that Alecto thinks I fancy her. I'm concerned it'll annoy Amycus. I've always suspected that those two have a bit of a Lannister thing going on, if you know what I mean." She wiggled her eyebrows lasciviously.
"I have no idea what you mean. What's a Lannister?"
"You know, A Song of Ice and Fire? It's a new fantasy series of epic proportions. Jaime and Cersei Lannister are twins who are doing the nasty. You should read it."
"You think I should read it because it has copulating siblings?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I think I'll pass."
"It is so much more than incest, Sev. Just you wait! I'm buying you a copy for Christmas. You'll love it."
"I can hardly wait," he drawled. "Do you have time for a fag before breakfast?"
"Always," Bel said with a smile.
"It's hard to explain, Harry," Hermione said. "You're just going to have to trust us." They were sat on his small bed in the room he was sharing with Ron. Damp-riddled wallpaper clung to the walls in water-swollen patches and Hermione could feel every spring in the ancient mattress beneath her. She was missing Bel's small London flat.
"Us?" Harry asked, brow wrinkled.
"Me and Severus."
"But why can't you explain it? You can't just tell a person you've figured out the 'power the Dark Lord knows not' and then not explain it."
"I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just don't know how to put it into words. You're just going to have to accept that it will eradicate the horcrux in your scar," she said, trying to be patient. She knew she was asking a lot of him.
"How will I know when it's happened?"
"Oh, trust me, you'll know. Everyone will know." If the reaction of a small amount of her and Severus's magic mixing at Emilia Heathershaw's cottage was anything to go by, they were in for quite a sight.
Harry let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Fine, I guess I'll just have to trust you. But if we all die, I'm gonna be saying 'I told you so' for an eternity."
"That seems fair." She leant forward and gave her best friend a hug. "We're going to come through this, Harry. I'm sure of it."
"Have the numbers told you so?" he asked, voice tight.
"It's just a feeling," Hermione admitted. "The numbers are inconclusive."
Halloween dawned cold and clear but Hermione really didn't want to get out of bed.
"Do we have to?" she grumbled as Severus tried to poke her awake.
"Yes, we have to. We have to save the world today, remember?"
"But it's cold out there and it's so warm in here." She snuggled further into his side, resting her hand on his bare hip. "What time do I have to be at the hill again?"
"Eight thirty."
"That's nearly an hour away." She dropped a kiss on his collar bone. "A lot can happen in an hour." She trailed kisses up to his neck, making him moan softly. Her hand roamed over the hard planes of his stomach, her nails tracing the scar tissue she found there.
"We really should-" a nibble to his ear cut off his power of speech and his eyes fluttered closed. She loved the effect she had on him. The way she could reduce him to incoherent groans and mumbles with little more than her mouth. Heavy heat settled between her legs and she ran her hand down to his cock, stroking the hard shaft once, twice.
He moaned in loss when she removed her hand only to open his eyes in shock as she crouched over him, her hot wetness barely touching the head of his cock. She locked her gaze on his as she slid down his hard length, watching his pupils dilate. Having him inside her was unlike anything she had ever felt before; she knew she'd never tire of it.
"Fuck, Hermione," he sighed, her name like a prayer on his lips. She rotated her hips, grinding her clit against his pubic bone, and he swore again. She gently tweaked a nipple as she slowly lifted her hips once more and used the head of his cock to tease her swollen nub before sinking back down his length, tensing and relaxing her muscles in a pulsating rhythm as she did so. The combination of silk and iron, friction and slippery wetness was exquisite.
She repeated the process a few times, enjoying the way the pressure built inside her, each circuit fanning her flames. She was lifting herself for the fourth time when Severus growled in frustration. His hands grasped her arms like iron bands and he threw her off him, pinning her back-down to the mattress. Her gasp turned into a moan as he slammed his cock into her cunt. Each hard thrust added the pressure building inside of her. Severus gasped her name and the dam holding back her pleasure burst its seams. She was lost.
When she caught her breath, Severus lay on his side staring at her. He looked pleased with himself and his dimples framed his smile. She kissed each of them in turn and climbed out of bed.
"Honestly, Severus," she gave him a mock-glare, "we have a busy day ahead. You should be up already."
He threw a pillow at her.
When they made it downstairs, the barroom was heaving as people scoffed bacon sandwiches and slurped from mugs of their caffeinated beverage of choice. Hermione grabbed a coffee for herself and a tea for Severus as he made up two sandwiches.
At eight fifteen, Harry stood on a chair and called for silence.
"Good morning, everyone."
"Good morning, Harry," the room droned in unison. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at how well Hogwarts ingrained that response in each and every one of them. Even Professor Dumbledore's portrait had joined in the chorus.
"As you're all aware, today is the day. Each of you has been supplied with a portkey to take you to a specific location at a specific time. Be sure to disillusion yourself before you leave and to grab both a pack lunch and a med kit." He pointed to the two piles of shrunken parcels. "We each have our roles to play today and I couldn't be prouder of how everyone here has banded together to fight for our freedom. The Ministry has let us down over and over again and so it's up to us. Let's make the wizarding world safe once more. We owe it to our friends, our family, and, most importantly, we owe it to the future generation. Let them grow up without the shadow of a dark lord dogging their play. Let their boggarts be bats or spiders or banshees and not their lifeless loved ones. Allow them the freedom to flourish at Hogwarts and to grow into the adults who will one day lead wizarding Britain. Fight for their freedom!"
The room burst into applause, cheers echoing from every solid surface. It was infectious. Hermione felt like she was ready to take on the world.
Severus gathered her in his arms and kissed her soundly as the cheers carried on around them.
"Stay safe, love," he whispered in her ear.
"I'll see you on the battlefield," Hermione replied.
"I love you."
"I know," she said unable to resist her favourite Star Wars line.
"Cheeky. I didn't realise I was dating Han Solo." She fell even more in love with him as he said that.
"I love you," she said, meaning it with every fibre of her being.
"I know."
She punched him lightly on the arm.
Hermione was part of a small group that would stay hidden in the woods until the sun began to set. She, Harry, Ron, the twins, Neville, and Luna would apparate to the plateau of Pendle Hill and start conducting a seance. Hermione had been the one to research the props they would need, but the plan itself had been the work of Ron, Severus, and Professor Dumbledore.
Ron had decided that they had to arrive before the Death Eaters, just like everybody else. He'd said it would be important for morale. And it made sense, being out there, hidden in the undergrowth, she felt like part of a team. If it kept everyone's spirits up, a numb arse and cold hands were a reasonable price to pay. She was just glad she'd brought a book to pass the time. Despite having a taciturn northerner of her own, Mr Thornton never lost his appeal.
She kept her DA coin clutched in her left hand, waiting for the signal.
"Severus," Lucius said, clapping his long-time friend on the shoulder, "are you ready for this?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Severus said, resisting the urge to curse the blond wizard. If Lucius survived the evening, he would have hell to pay for what he'd done to Hermione. Although, Severus decided that, when it came down to it, Azkaban would be punishment enough.
They were in one of the few rooms still standing in Malfoy Manor that was large enough to hold more than just the inner circle. Men and women milled around, clutching their masks and chatting. The atmosphere in the room was palpable and could be read in every tense shoulder and straight back. The plan was relatively simple: they would apparate en masse and surround the perimeter of Pendle Hill once Wormtail gave the signal. He'd be using his rat form to scope out the top of the hill and let them know when Potter arrived. Severus wasn't exactly sure how Wormtail would get the message to them without revealing himself; he hadn't been privy to those planning sessions.
The room suddenly fell silent and Severus felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention.
The Dark Lord had arrived.
"Welcome, my loyal followers! The day has arrived and my time, our time, has come at last. Today is the day that I kill Harry Potter." Cheers filled the room, echoing off the ceiling. Severus couldn't bring himself to join in. Not that anyone would expect the dour headmaster of Hogwarts to cheer in any case. The Dark Lord allowed them a few moments of revelry before jabbing his wand into the air, cutting off the noise. "Yes, yes, I'm sure you are all very excited. But you cannot let that excitement get in the way of what we have to accomplish today. I expect perfection from every person in this room. You've all come to me in the past looking for something better, a future befitting your blood, a place of power and influence in this world." It still sickened Severus that this had once been true of him as well. He'd wanted all those things so desperately that he didn't consider the cost. He'd wanted to belong and all it brought him was pain. "Today is the day I give you all of those things. Today is the day we snuff out the fire of hope that fuels the Order of the Phoenix." People spat as he spoke the name. "Today is the day I show the world what true strength looks like. On this day, sixteen years ago, I suffered my greatest failure, but today I will celebrate my greatest victory. Today I show the world that there is no good and evil; there is only power, and those too weak to seek it."
The Dark Lord slashed his wand through the air, releasing them from his silencing charm, and cheers exploded from the dark figures once more.
It was almost fifteen minutes later that they got the call.
Every dark mark burned black as the Dark Lord screamed, "NOW!"
At precisely 5.16 PM, Hermione led the group apparition to the cairn atop Pendle Hill. On landing, everyone started setting up. Hermione began marking out a large circle, casting wards as she went. Fred and George began setting up the thick, white candles they had bought from Odds & Ends in Hogsmeade. Luna began to arrange a stack of silk-covered cushions, carefully placing each one, whilst Harry, Ron, Ginny and Neville began tracing out a pentagram with table salt. For the ambush to work, their seance had to look authentic.
Once everything was in place, they sat down on their cushions, held hands and began to chant. They only made it to the second verse before the air was filled with a clap of thunder as Voldemort and his retinue arrived. Almost in unison, the eight were on their feet, backs to one another and wands raised.
It was time to fight.
Molly Weasley was sore and tired after a day lying in wait, but she was determined. She and Arthur were among the first to emerge from their hiding places and sneak up on the turned backs of the Death Eaters.
Stupefy, she thought, silently slashing her wand through the air. The red flash of light caught one of the retreating figures in the back and he dropped to the floor like a sack of the potatoes she bought once a month from the local market. Again and again she cast, her husband doing the same next to her. They'd taken out maybe six or seven before their comrades noticed anything amiss and turned to face them. The time for subtlety was passed.
"Confringo," she screamed, sweeping her wand towards a trio that had turned to face her. The fiery orange light of her spell caught two of them square in the chest, blasting them backwards.
Around her, familiar faces were emerging from the scrub that carpeted the shallow incline of the hill and light from all areas of the spectrum flashed through the air. The sickly green of death danced in her footsteps as she twirled out of its path again and again.
The first thing Severus did on arriving at the hill was throw off his mask, casting it to one side. If he had any hope of reaching Potter, he needed his allies to see his face. He'd arrived towards the bottom of the hill and started to weave his way through the mass of black that surrounded him. He stuck to magic with no visual signature, using a trip jinx to throw off the aim of a Death Eater about to strike Lavender Brown and turning the floor to ice beneath the feet of the hulking form of Greyback, who struggled to regain balance just long enough for Remus Lupin to stun him. Severus was glad they were about as far away from the full moon as it was possible to get.
He could see white light glowing in a dome at the top of the hills. Hermione's wards were holding.
For now.
"Impedimenta!" Tonks screamed, trying to force back as many of the Death Eaters as possible. She and Kingsley were stood back to back, trying to fend off the faceless figures in black.
"We need to whip it," Kingsley's rumbling voice broke through the noise of the battle. "On three." Tonks was blocking curse after curse, one hand unconsciously protecting her abdomen, and waited for Kingsley's signal. They'd have to get it just right.
"Three," he bellowed. It was a typical auror trick to miss out the expected "one" and "two." It helped to preserve the element of surprise. As he shouted, she grasped his wrist and let him pull her into the air and he turned on the spot. Just as she started to gain momentum, she concentrated hard, transforming her legs is to razor sharp blades. He twirled quickly, wielding her body like a mace, cutting people down where they stood and driving others backwards. She felt it as her legs sliced through their opponents with wet snicks and forced down nausea. She was doing this, taking lives, so that her child could grow up in a better world.
After several spins, Kingsley slowed her down and she concentrated on returning her legs back to normal. She landed in a heap and he helped her to her feet, her right hand clutching her wooden lifeline. A cackle broke through the din of the battle going on around them and she turned, faced with a psychotic and bedraggled version of her mother. Bellatrix grinned at Tonks, her wand already pointing at the metamorphmagus's stomach.
"Crucio," she snarled.
Tonks gasped and fell to her knees as pain unlike anything she'd ever felt coursed through her body. Icy heat blazed through her, leaving no part of her body untouched.
"I wonder if the little werewolf you're carrying can feel it too?" Tonks clutched her abdomen, trying to shield her baby though she knew it would do no good. "I look forward to dropping your head off for my poor sister to mourn over. Avada kedavra."
As the green light rushed to claim her, Tonks saw Kingsley grasp her crazy aunt's head and snap her neck with a single, sharp twist.
Narcissa watched in horror as her niece and sister died within moments of one another. What the hell was she doing here? She wasn't a Death Eater, she didn't believe in this ridiculous charade. The Dark Lord lost her loyalty as soon as he asked the impossible of her son. She barely even believed in the power of pure blood. She'd long suspected that her birth had been the result of a random fuck between her mother and their neighbour. She'd always been different. Different from her sisters, different from her parents. And yet not so different from the quiet muggle man who lived next door. She had his ash blond hair and slate grey eyes. Eyes she'd passed on to her son.
No, she didn't believe in the cause. She'd only ever tolerated any of this for her husband's sake; the husband who'd been spiralling into alcoholism ever since his return from Azkaban. The husband who'd back-handed her after the Granger girl had escaped. The husband who hadn't thought about her needs, or put her first, in years. No. She was done. She grasped her son's arm as he fought beside her, shielding her from curse after curse.
"Mother, what are y—"
"We're leaving," she said simply. She rubbed the Malfoy ring she wore and activated it with a whispered, "Castas et fortes." Pure and strong. She and Draco were whisked away from the battle just as an orange curse streamed towards them. It passed through the now-empty space and struck Percy Weasley in the chest.
She didn't hear Arthur Weasley's anguished cry as his spell hit his estranged son.
Luna was trying not to panic. She'd stayed calm all day; she'd helped entertain the others when they became worried during their long wait. She'd run over and over the plan in her head. She'd known exactly what she was supposed to do. But now … now they'd run out of plan. From here on out, they were playing it by ear. And that scared her.
Spells were arcing off Hermione's wards, making the dome of protection glow white. Luna could see the protections thinning in places. All she could do was stand there, her wand shaking slightly in her left hand.
A hand slipped into hers and she looked up to see Fred Weasley's smiling face.
"Don't let the wrackspurts get you down, Luna," he said. If it had come from anyone else, she'd have thought they were saying it to be cruel, but Fred had always been different. He'd teased her and targeted her for the odd prank but he'd never once belittled her or demanded proof when she said something out of the ordinary. The way he treated her, smiled at her, always made her insides feel warm and tingly. Like she was the only one in the room. "Let's give 'em hell."
She squeezed his hand back and levelled her wand at the Death Eater in front of her.
When the wards finally collapsed under the sheer force of their opposition, Luna's was the first stunner to hit its mark.
Vincent Crabbe had been waiting for a moment like this for years. Until the advent of his seventh year at Hogwarts, he'd had to keep his urges tightly reigned. He'd only punched people when they were asking for it, he hadn't hurt any of the animals in Care of Magical Creatures (not even the skrewts) and when the mudblood bitch he'd pinned to the wall last year had started crying, he'd let her go immediately. Well, almost immediately. He'd ripped her knickers from her and pocketed them. He remembered the way she nodded, tears streaming down her pretty face, when he'd told her that if he heard one word about it, she'd lose far more than just her knickers.
Then the Carrows had arrived and taken him under their wings. They'd taught him how to cause exquisite pain, how to slowly build torture, how to make girls scream. And he'd loved it.
Now, he found himself putting their teachings to good use. His cruciatus curse repeatedly hit its mark. People ran from the green light he sent careening out of his wand. But it wasn't enough. He needed something special. Something more.
He whispered an incantation and fire erupted from his wand, twisting and flaring into the shapes of beasts. He licked the Creevey brothers with the tongue of a giant serpent and used an elephant to stomp out one of the old Gryffindor chasers. But then Goyle was there. Crabbe hadn't seen his fellow Slytherin appear, had no idea how he'd fallen into the path of the flaming lion who bore down on him. He hadn't meant to do it.
And yet, the scream the fire wrung from his friend felt just as delicious as the screams from his enemies.
Never in her life had Bel seen so many wounded in one place. She helped as many people as she could; chanting healing spells, staunching bleeding, and pouring potions down their throats. Some people were too injured for her to do anything about. In those cases, she snapped an elastic band around their wrists and watched as they were transported back to Hogwarts. Sev had provided her with a bagful of the bands; he'd spent hours and hours making the portkeys to transport people to the Hospital Wing where Madam Pomfrey was well-equipped to deal with them.
In the confusion of everything that was going on around her, she almost tripped over Rolanda Hooch. The middle-aged witch was covered in mud and when Bel bent to help her up, she gasped in pain. She had both hands wrapped over her stomach. Bel tried to move one of them but Rolanda stopped her.
"Don't," she rasped. "It's too late. Save the bands for someone else."
Alarmed, Bel forced one of her hands to one side and stared, open-mouthed, as the skin of her friend's stomach fell open, revealing the glistening pink and putrid brown of her ruptured bowel. The smell made her gag but she reached out and lifted the flap of skin back into place. Rolanda's face grew steadily paler. She was right; it was too late to fix the damage. Bel held her long-time friend in her arms as she died, her tears mixing with the mud that stained her face.
The mages of Pendle Hill didn't bother to prearrange a signal. It was obvious when the fight started. The Ministry of Magic may think witches and wizards superior by virtue of their wands but Emilia Heathershaw was not impressed. The fight was a shambles. Spells were flying every which way and very few of them could impact more than one person at a time. Pathetic.
"Right," she said, addressing the hodge podge of men and women she'd assembled from the local mages, "we need to stop the ones in black and the stupid masks. Got it?"
"Got it," they chorused back.
And so the Pendle mages joined the fray.
Emilia charged, her green wellies providing excellent grip on the hill's incline. A group of Death Eaters had their backs turned to her and she used a sweeping hand to churn the earth beneath their feet into a frenzy. The riotous ground swallowed seven or eight of them up to their necks, leaving them stuck and unable to cast. She skipped around them and picked her next target.
It had been years since she'd last properly exercised her powers.
This was going to be fun.
Hermione was starting to lose it. Spells flew in all directions and it was all she could do to stay alive, never mind fight back. Harry seemed completely at home, duelling two Death Eaters at once. Ron was directing people as he kept himself alive and the Weasley twins were a sight to behold. They worked as one; parrying, blocking, and attacking in perfect synchronisation.
She was itching to use her fire, but she had to wait.
Where the hell was Severus?
He was supposed to be there, helping them. They couldn't face the Dark Lord without him.
The back of her neck prickled and she spun around, finding herself face to face with an enormous snake. She barely had time to shriek before Neville was there, brandishing his wand.
"Sectumsempra," he yelled and the spell hit its mark. Large, oozing cuts opened from seemingly nowhere, slicing Nagini, tearing her to shreds.
"Good one, Longbottom." That voice. His voice.
She whirled around and Severus was there, standing with her.
She could do this.
Together, they fought their way to Harry and were flanking him by the time Dark Lord crested the plateau of the hill.
They'd walked into a trap.
Again.
Tom looked at the cloaked and masked people fighting around him, wondering who had betrayed him. Who wasn't giving their all? Whose spells kept flying wide? Who was targeting their Death Eater brethren?
Who was the traitor?
It was a question that had plagued him for twenty long years. Every time he thought he'd dealt with the problem individual, something else happened. His plans had been leaked over and over again. This war could have been over years ago if it wasn't for the spy. And Harry Potter.
Tom drifted up the hill, toes barely grazing the grass and spells bouncing uselessly off his shield. Did these people really believe they stood a chance against him? Stood a chance against the true heir of Slytherin himself? They were fooling themselves.
The crowds were thick atop the hill and, as he broke into the centre, he witnessed a filthy youth sever the head of his beloved pet.
"Good one, Longbottom." That voice. His voice. His most loyal. His traitor?
They hadn't seen him yet. Three of them stood apart from the rest. Harry Potter flanked by his mudblood sidekick and Severus.
How disappointing.
It would be a shame to kill such a talented wizard. A shame, but not a problem. Tom stepped from behind the knot of people fighting in front of him and faced his foes. The mudblood girl turned pale, the traitor's eyes narrowed, and the boy's face hardened. He would enjoy breaking the brat's resolve.
And break it he would.
"So this is what the Order sends to save them," he said, voice carrying across the hill, "a mudblood, a traitor, and a child."
"Of course, not," the boy said, voice deeper than Tom remembered. "They also sent these." He held a shining tiara in one hand and a vial of indigo potion in the other. It was the very diadem he had hidden so carefully nearly half a century before.
"Even you can't be so arrogant as to think no one would discover it, Tom." That name was for him and him alone. How dare he use it? "Did you really think you were the only one to discover the secrets of Hogwarts?"
But it was only one. Only a seventh of his soul. He had plenty to spare.
"D'you know what else we discovered, Tom?" He would not rise to the bait. He would not ask. The boy answered anyway. "This." He smashed the vial against the diadem and dropped it to the floor. Tom watched as the potion devoured Ravenclaw's heirloom, eating away at it like acid. He felt the bubbling of the metal in his every nerve as a part of his soul ceased to be.
Tom pulled icy air in through his nose, releasing it slowly through his mouth.
"That is nothing. I have plenty to spare."
"Do you, though?" the boy asked, smirking. "Are you telling me you didn't feel the destruction of your diary? That you didn't register Dumbledore destroy Gaunt's ring? That the loss of Slytherin's locket didn't touch you? Do you not mourn for your beloved pet?"
Relief flooded Tom's system. The cup. He still had the cup.
"And what of Hufflepuff's heirloom? Do you not feel it being eaten from the inside? Are you so disconnected from yourself, from your humanity, that you can't feel that final piece of soul dying?"
Surely, he was bluffing. There was no possible way for him to reach the cup without his knowledge.
"Protean potions are truly remarkable things, aren't they?"
"There's no such thing as a protean potion, Potter."
"I think you mean there wasn't such a thing. Thanks to Hermione and Severus, that is no longer true."
He couldn't help himself, he met the Potion Master's eyes. "Severus?" he asked.
Severus nodded. "The next time you threaten the life of someone's loved one, I recommend you consider the consequences."
Severus joined hands with the Potter brat and the mudblood did the same on his other side.
If Potter wasn't going to use a wand, his own should have no problems.
"Avada—"
Blindingly blue light emanated from Potter's guards, travelling through their linked arms and bursting like a star from Potter's chest.
It washed over Tom, encompassing him completely, and he knew no more.
Fire and water were drawn together. They travelled through the mated souls of their hosts and swept into the Innocent One, coalescing. They sought the twisted ball of corruption buried deep within him, obliterating it before travelling on and cannoning into the Corrupt One. The one upsetting the balance. They engulfed him, devoured him.
And with his death, balance was restored.