A/N: Fans of The Bill Weasley . . . I finally got him in! It's brief, and it only took me 28 chapters, but The Bill makes an appearance here.

I own nothing, the story and characters are JKR's. Rated T for very strong language, mild violence. Thanks to stella8h8chang for her assistance with this chapter. Also, if you are so inclined, and haven't yet done so, I'm keeping my poll on my profile page open until April 20th. I'd love to hear from ya--and y'all who have voted have helped me move past my writer's block on a couple of the higher-ranked one-shots! So . . . yay for ya!

Two more chapters, folks!


Chapter 28: Spiraling Downward

Buoyed by his most successful . . .

(Your only, Potter!)

(Oi! Shut up!)

Buoyed by his new relationship with Ginny Weasley, Harry walked around in an utterly lovesick daze after the Quidditch match. They wasted no time in finding rather creative ways to make time pass between classes, after meals, in the evening, on afternoons of weekends . . .

(Well, since there's no more Quidditch, it'd do us some good to find other ways to spend our time.)

Harry had strengthened his determination to make up with Daphne Greengrass now. He, Hermione, Ron and Ginny all cornered her right after dinner two days after the final match.

"Daphne . . . come on, now," Harry pleaded. "There's gotta be something I can do to make it up to you?"

Daphne scowled at him, "Well, I'd like to, but my nose rather resents you at the moment. Also, I'm still bloody sleeping in our common room, like a savage." She turned her narrowed eyes toward each of the other Gryffindors in turn. Pursing her lips together, she looked back at Harry. "Potter . . . do you remember my little Christmas present?"

Now, Harry was getting a bit worried, and he heard Ron and Ginny snickering. "Er, sh-sur-re . . ."

"I want you to wear it, instead of your school jumper. For one week. Anytime you're in the Great Hall, you'll wear it without your cloak covering it, and you'll sit with your back facing Slytherin."

Harry groaned and covered his face with his hands. "There's nothing else I can do?" He looked between his fingers at Daphne, and he watched her shake her head.

"Ginny, make sure he wears it. All. The. Time. He needs to wear it while he's in your common room." Daphne smirked at him. "I might get Creevey to take pictures of 'Slytherin's Number One Fan' when you least expect it. Just to prove you're doing my bidding."

Harry glared as Ginny let loose a great chortle against his shoulder. He turned back around to Daphne.

"If I do this, we're fine, right?"

Daphne crossed her arms and grinned lopsidedly at him. "I'll consider it, Potter . . . I'll consider it."

After Daphne left, Ron smacked Harry on the back. "Harry," Ron said, "Think of it this way. You'll be paving the way for peace and prosperity among the Houses."

"Oi!"

"We're definitely gonna have to get Colin to take as many pictures as possible."

Ron quickly discovered that Harry's Seeker build could keep up with him as Harry chased Ron throughout the castle grounds. Hermione and Ginny laughed at the pair of them.

For the next week, Harry endured the onslaught of boos from the Gryffindors and jeering laughter from the Slytherins as he wore the jumper for practically twenty-four hours every day. The deal was made even more obnoxious because he could actually hear the snakes coughing up their flowers with a slight gagging sound. When Snape asked him, "What in the name of Slytherin is that – infernal – noise, Potter?" Harry had no choice but to show the git Daphne's present, much to the twittering amusement of the entire class. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes as Snape smirked at him, the professor's dark, beady eyes drifting to Daphne, who sat prim and proper just behind Harry. Snape raised his eyebrow.

"I must ap-plaud you, Mister Potter, for wearing such an informative article of clothing." Snape flashed a sardonic smirk to Harry. "Sit down, and pay attention to the lesson." Snape turned back around and began writing on the board. Afterwards, Daphne approached him.

"See, a little more love of Slytherin, and you're avoiding detentions and point deduction left and right." Daphne sounded bright, but her face was all smug sarcasm.

May seemed inordinately beautiful to Harry. He wasn't sure what the exact reasons were. Ron and Hermione were doing very well, what with kissing and teasing and snogging like mad. Ginny made time between her O.W.L. preparations for Harry . . . and those moments were totally, utterly, completely fantastic.

(Just be grateful Ron can't perform Legilimency on you . . . if he knew what you were up to with his baby sister . . .)

And Daphne seemed to be getting better around the trio again. Harry's compliance with Daphne's deal bought her some favor with the Slytherin girls. She told them that Millicent Bulstrode had held Pansy Parkinson back to let Daphne get to the bathroom and then fall asleep in her own bed. Snape, although he had been extremely irritable, had sent a message for Parkinson to come to his office. He must have said something very persuasive, because Parkinson had said and done nothing when Daphne walked up into the dormitory.

Daphne also started hanging around with them again while Harry walked around with Daphne's Christmas present, laughing and teasing them without that salty, off-color edge that her humor would normally get when she got nervous, frustrated or angry. And the improvements weren't simply on her end; there were a couple of times that Ron would brave the Slytherin table to sit with her when she normally would've eaten alone.

"I mean, it's just a bloody table. Shouldn't prevent any of us from eating with our friends," Ron said rather sagely.

Harry wondered aloud, "Who are you and what in the world have you done with Ron Weasley?"

Ron beaned him in the head with a common room couch pillow.

"Y'know," Ron started, while they were sitting in the common room one night, "it feels like it's too calm." He had one arm slung around Hermione's shoulders. Harry was sitting in a chair next to their couch, and Ginny was on the floor beneath him, lazily touching his trousered leg. Harry had finally started feeling truly content for once at school.

"How can something be too calm for you, Ron?" Ginny asked. "If that were the case, it wouldn't be moving at all."

Ron made a very ungentlemanly hand gesture to Ginny, which earned him a quick, playful slap from Hermione on his chest, and a laugh from Harry. Hermione settled back into him, and said, "I think I understand what you're saying, Ron. With everything that's gone on over the last couple of years, it feels like we're at this interlude of sorts. The 'calm before the storm'."

Harry idly nodded. "I see what you mean. We should be off somewhere, fighting or something, shouldn't we? It seems like we always end up in that position every single year."

"And not discussing who currently has a tattoo of a pink pygmy puff on their chest, right?" Ginny said with a raised eyebrow.

Ron pointed at her and narrowed his blue eyes, "Listen, Gingersnap—"

"Oooh, ladies and gents," Ginny wrung her hands in mock fear, "Ron's pulling out my old nickname. I think I've hit a nerve."

The others laughed as Ron's ears went vibrantly crimson. "Ginevra . . ."

Ginny waved her hand dismissively at Ron. "I honestly have no idea how that rumor got started." Ginny batted her eyelashes innocently. "Just have Hermione say you don't have anything on your chest. I mean, she'd know—"

"Or I'll just tell them you have Harry Potter's face inked on your bum."

The three Gryffindors turned and looked at Hermione, who was giggling into her hand. "What? Is there a rule that I can't take the mickey out of Ron too? In fact, I think I've earned the ability to take the mickey out of you," she said to him.

"Oh, but Miss Gran-ger," Ron said, in his near-perfect Snape-like imitation, "there's a price to pay for your in-solence."

"Ron? Ron, what're you doing . . . ? Ron? Ron!" And with that, Hermione gasped and screamed and giggled as Ron tackled her on the couch and proceeded to tickle the ever-living daylights out of her.

"Ginny! Over here and get her feet!" Ron said, as Hermione squealed in hysterical, breathless gasps.

Harry laughed as he watched the spectacle in front of him, with a niggling fear creeping from the back of his mind that all this laughter, all this joy, could come crashing down at any moment.


"I've got a funny feeling that one Miss Greengrass aced that final examination in Arithmancy."

Daphne stifled a funny little giggle as she felt the warm breath tickling her ear. She turned to her right and saw a grinning Michael Corner jogging up to walk in-step with her.

"Ah," she waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "I won't be one to argue with you. I'm fairly sure I did too."

"Seriously, never ever lose that humble nature of yours. You'd really do well to be a bit more confident about your lessons." Michael flashed her a nice, lopsided grin that made Daphne catch her breath.

(Shit! Seriously, stop it. You're just friends now.)

"So," he started with the heavy tone of deliberate, almost-practiced curiosity, "what are your plans for the hols?"

Daphne looked over to Michael, who had a small smile poking from his lips and was keeping his eyes straight ahead. She shrugged, smiling herself.

"Oh, not too much, I guess. Ron said I'm free to stay at the Burrow, but I'd probably be roped into helping with the wedding."

"Wedding?"

Daphne nodded. "Yeah. Um, Ron's oldest brother's marrying Fleur Delacour. She was—"

"The Triwizard champion from Beauxbatons, yeah, I remember her." Michael gave a long, low whistle. "Bloke's got taste."

Daphne snorted. "Figures."

"What?"

"You think she's a looker because she's half-Veela."

Michael shrugged and nodded. "Well, yeah. From what I remember."

Daphne shook her head and muttered, "Red-blooded males . . ."

"But," Michael said, jogging in front of her, hand placed, palm-down, on his chest, "I'm also sensitive and aware enough to know that you've got to look deeper, past appearances and everything. You've got to get to know the person." Michael continued to smile in a way that made Daphne's chest feel like it was going to leap out of her body and do a quick cha-cha-cha on the stone floor of the castle.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're so . . . deep and . . . multi-layered."

"Daphne, hey." Michael scratched awkwardly at the side of his head. "Maybe we could start again, y'know? I mean, okay, I'm really not all right with the whole 'blackmailing' thing. That, seriously, to me, is just wrong."

Daphne swallowed and creased her brow. "Er, yeah. I know. I'm trying to fix things. Probably be one of the things I work on this summer — maybe try to get a job too." She looked up at Michael, whose eyes were soft and whose mouth was turning upward.

"It's odd, but you make me smile." Michael shrugged humorously. "You walk around like your pissed off or something with the world, and you make your sarcastic little remarks, and then I have to try that much harder to make you laugh. Which you do . . . eventually. But it's totally brilliant when you do, because you're entire body just shakes and it sounds like you're barking or something. It's the least girly thing I've ever seen and it's adorable." He shook his long, dark, shaggy hair out of his eyes; Daphne blushed and averted her gaze. "If there's one thing I've learned from the last couple of years, it's that people definitely aren't perfect, and I need to know that now so I don't keep running from things that might be pretty cool after all. It's better to just get everything out into the open, talk about it, and then go from there, right?"

Daphne swallowed. "What is up with all this touchy-feely stuff? I'm getting it from Ron, from Hermione, from Harry, and now—" she held her hand out toward Michael. She tried to sound annoyed, but there was no way. Michael's words — hell, Michael himself — got to her. He got to her in a way she wasn't quite ready to identify or fully understand yet.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw him looking at her with expectation and something akin to hope in his eyes.

Daphne let out a little awkward cough. "Um, I hear you," she said, looking up at him. "And, I've gotta say, I like a bloke who can talk music, who can make me laugh at the drop of a hat, and who's been totally upfront and honest with me. And you definitely fit all three criteria." He was smiling so broadly, and Daphne couldn't help smiling herself . . . but. . . .

"But—"

And Michael's face fell just that little bit.

"But, Michael, I'm sort of in this weird place right now . . . about me. You should be with someone who really likes themselves, y'know? Someone who's a lot better with dealing with some of the crap that keeps coming back up." Daphne chewed the inside of your cheek. "I'll be honest. I don't want to just be friends with you," she saw him smile, "but it's not fair to you to ask you to wait for me while I sort my shit out . . ." Daphne's voice drifted off as she saw Michael's frowning, but steady face. "Hell, I'll ask it anyways. Would you wait for me to get my shit together?" She raised one eyebrow and kept her eyes on him.

Michael gave a small, snorting laugh; Daphne could tell he was amused. "I'm no Seer, or anything, so I couldn't say I'll definitely be around when that time comes. We are in the middle of something really big, out there," he nudged his head toward the opening in the corridor, leading to that vast unknowable something which Daphne reckoned he meant the war. She swallowed, and nearly felt her throat closing up as tears, once again, threatened to sting her eyes, and she looked away from Michael before he could observe her vulnerability. "All I can say is I'll be here, I'll take things slow with you. I'll write you tons over the summer, and we can see where we are when school starts up in the fall." Michael guided her face toward him with his hand. "That okay?"

Daphne felt herself nod.

"Well, my Fair Greengrass," he held an arm out to her, "whaddya say we check out what's on the menu this evening in the Great Hall?" Daphne rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"So bloody melodramatic," she muttered, all while taking his arm.


Ron had never considered for a moment that he actually had the Sight. But, ever since the musing in the common room in front of Harry, Ginny and Hermione, ever since voicing aloud that things were 'too calm', Ron couldn't help feeling that a weight was pulling at his insides, and that somehow . . . at some point . . . it was all going to fall away.

And it looked like it would be tonight.

Ron knew that they had all missed something, something vitally important somewhere . . . maybe along the long stretch of corridor through which he and Hermione were now running . . . running . . . running to meet up at the room . . . to wait for whomever would show up.

Harry's cryptic words, filled with decisive apprehension and nervous tension, ran through his head . . .

"Find Ginny . . . tell her I'm sorry . . . I'll be with Dumbledore . . . I'll see her soon. Take the Felix and whomever you can gather up from the DC or, Hermione, use those coins from the DA. . . . Maybe people will come quicker if you use them . . . Use the Map . . . Find Malfoy and Snape . . . he's doing it tonight . . . Room of Requirement . . ."

Ron and Hermione stopped in front of the room, and waited for what felt like a couple of minutes past forever. Ron looked at the Map, shaking his head.

"Malfoy's still not appearing on the Map anywhere, so he must still be in the Room, right?"

Hermione wrung her hands. "Did we do absolutely everything we could? To stop whatever he's planning?"

Ron shook his shaggy-haired head. "Honestly, I'm thinking the same thing myself." He shut his eyes, and took five deep breaths, counting down, silently and slowly from ten, in order to clear his mind . . . to calm his head . . . to simplify his thoughts . . . .

It was the same relaxation technique he had used over the summer when his sensory system got overloaded. Ron reckoned he'd need to have a clear head to deal with whatever would be coming out of that room.

They heard footsteps running toward them. Pulling out their wands, Ron and Hermione ducked behind a stone pillar, crouched down and peered around the edge. They breathed out in relief when they saw the three familiar heads of Neville, Luna and Ginny coming toward them.

"We felt our old DA coins go hot," Neville said, panting. "What's going on?"

Ron looked among the five teenagers, looked down the hall, and then looked back at the teenagers. "Wait . . . this is all?"

"I think a lot of the old DA members scrapped the coins once the DC got started. We really didn't need them anymore, y'know?" Ginny replied. "Plus, we were together in the Great Hall anyways."

Neville shrugged. "I like carrying the Galleon around, y'know, as a reminder of last year. Makes me feel lucky. It helps." Luna nodded in agreement.

Ron groaned and exhaled through his nose. He had to come up with some sort of plan, some sort of attack formation for whatever the hell was going to come out of the Room.

"Okay, Hermione, you and Luna go to Snape's office, and keep an eye on him . . ."

"Wait one minute, Ron Weasley," Hermione started, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "What do you mean 'Hermione and Luna go watch Snape'? I'm not going anywhere—"

"We've got to split up — Malfoy's here and Snape's in his office." Ron spoke evenly, but firmly. "Snape won't suspect you of spying on him. You're a prefect, and you're quick with a story; tell him that you've got a question about an assignment or something." The volume of Ron's voice was creeping up steadily. "You can bullshit something good enough that it'll be believable—"

"I can also fight." Hermione said sharply and rather loudly. "You need me up here."

"Hermione—"

"I'll do more damn good here than down there—"

"Hermione—"

"Of course, it's typical . . . you'll think I'm in the way, or I – I'll somehow lose my wits or I'll mess things up. I'll have you know, Ron, that I've gotten much better at—"

"Hermione!" Ron grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a tiny shake to get her attention. "You and I can't fight together!" Ron felt his face softening and he loosened his tight grip on her shoulders, and he looked at her with pleading eyes and heavy breaths. "I can't focus on what's going to come out of that room if I'm protecting you too. Please, Hermione." Ron brought his hand up to her cheek and leaned into her. "It can't be like last year. You can't get hurt—"

"What about Snape? If he's involved, don't you'd think he'd try something?" Hermione's voice softened and she clutched at Ron's arms with her tiny hands. Ron started as she touched his skin, and quickly remembered the sock Harry had given him.

"Here," Ron thrust the bottle to Hermione, his hands shaking as he did so. "All of you need to take a sip of this." He addressed his sister, Luna and Neville as well.

"Is this Herclitus Extract?" Luna asked in her dreamy voice.

Her question was met with total silence.

"My father did an article on the Herclitus plant. It's supposed to give you incredible strength and make it twice as hard for your opponents to harm you—"

"Er, no," Ron said calmly. It's Felix Felicis."

"Oh, well, isn't that lucky?" came the Ravenclaw's reply.

"Ri-ight. Okay. Come here. There should be enough for all of us to have a few hours each of luck for, well, whatever we're gonna be encountering. All right," Ron said, and silently confirmed the drinking order with Neville with a stare and a nod. 'Hermione, Luna, and Ginny . . . you three are first. No. Arguments." Ron gave Hermione a stern look that served as the final word on the matter.

Hermione took the bottle and gave it to Luna, who passed it to Ginny, who simply stared at it.

"Well? Someone's gonna have to start drinking. Ginny? Go on then."

Ginny let loose a partly shaky, somewhat frustrated breath and looked at her brother. "I wish Harry was here. I wish I got to say good-bye to him. I wish I could've told him that I—" Ginny suddenly choked up, and her eyes watered slightly.

"You'll tell him when he gets back," Ron replied calmly. "Now, drink up."

The bottle of the Felix went around to each person. Ron had to force Neville to go ahead and take his turn after Luna; after exchanging words, and Ron whispering something to Neville, the other Gryffindor boy closed his eyes, and drank a small amount, but enough to be effective.

Finally, the bottle came back to Hermione and Ron.

"Do it, Hermione."

"Ron, there's not enough left for two," she said, shaking her head and breathing heavily. Ron saw that she was near crying.

"Luna's already taken the potion, and you've got to get to Snape's office. He's still there. I just checked the Map—"

"Ron!"

"Do it, Hermione! Drink the damn thing and get downstairs!" Ron's voice ratcheted up to near-shouting levels. Hermione drank half of what was left in the bottle, barely a mouthful. Ron shook his head.

"Finish it, Hermione." She looked at him, her head still shaking, holding the bottle out to him.

Ron grabbed her, and hugged her tightly to him. Whispering into her ear, he said in his steadiest voice, even though he was shaking from his own fear, "I'll be here. I'll be safe. Hermione, please. Do this for me." He pulled away from her, and she finished the contents of the bottle, still crying.

"R-Ron—" she started.

"Go. Now." And with that, he turned from her toward Neville and Ginny and started pointing where he wanted them to go.

Suddenly, Hermione came around from behind him, grabbed his head in her hands, and kissed him full, on the lips, harder and more desperately than she had ever done before.

Ron could only respond by embracing her tightly and returning the kiss, albeit too briefly for him even in his own haste.

"I love you, Ron," she whispered against his lips and ran, pulling up even with Luna and taking a shortcut from the seventh floor to Snape's office.


"—Ron, where the bloody – fucking – hell are you?"

"Ginny . . . I'm to your left, but dammit . . . watch your language."

"You're one to talk, and I'd say this is an absolutely appropriate time to swear—"

"Seriously, you two . . . argue after we fight the Death Eaters."

"Sorry, Neville," came both Weasley siblings' sheepish responses in quiet voices.

The three Gryffindors had seen Malfoy peeking around out of the Room of Requirement and holding a shriveled appendage attached to nothing. As soon as they saw the ferrety rat poke his head out, Ron and Neville sprang toward him from the left and right, wands out, spells on the tip of their tongue. Ginny brought up the rear.

The second Malfoy spotted them, Ron saw the flecks of black powder leaving Malfoy's hands; before he knew it, the entire hall outside the Room of Requirement went totally black. No repeated shouting of "Lumos", "Lumos Maximos", "Incendio" or any other Illumination Charms could break through the light. Both Ron and Ginny whispered, practically simultaneously, "Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder."

"Dammit, Fred and George. Ginny?"

The teenagers were left groping around in the darkness for each other. Ron felt a small, smooth hand on his.

"Wait, Ginny." Ron's whispery voice practically echoed into the dark abyss just behind him. "Did you feel me? My hand's still where it was. Go back and put your hand where it was just a second ago."

"Yeah." Ginny grasped his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. "Okay," Ginny's voice was breathy and shook with her nerves. "I'm with Neville — wait . . . d'you hear that?"

Ron did indeed hear the quick, but thick, impact of boots on the stone floor, rushing past them, heavy breathing, and grunts and creepy, sinister laughter . . . and growling.

Growling that chilled him to the bone.

Growling that reached into his veins and curdled his blood . . . because there was something human buried somewhere in that awful sound.

Growling that Ron had only ever heard one other time . . . when Professor Lupin had changed into a werewolf in third year.

Ron felt his heart racing . . . his adrenaline coursing through him, and he wanted to break off from Neville and Ginny, to attack them now . . . now, when they were so close . . . before they got the first chance to Avada Kedavra . . .

(In the present, Weasley . . . stay in the present . . .)

Then, he saw it just up ahead, a sliver of light, illuminating the edge of the Peruvian Powder's limit. Ron gave Ginny's hand a squeeze.

"I can see where the powder stops. Keep to the walls, don't let go, and we'll reach them, okay?"

Ron clung to what he could feel of the stone wall, swallowing in large gulps, his eyes never leaving that little patch of light, which was slowly and steadily growing bigger.

His heart raced as he saw shadowy figures, running into the light, all big, hulking figures making awful noises, laughing, swearing, growling . . .

Malfoy and whomever he was with were so far ahead of Ron, Ginny and Neville . . . they would never catch them now . . . they were going so bloody slow!

(Hermione, please be okay.)

"Ron, we're almost there. I can see it!" Ginny whispered excitedly.

Almost there . . .

Almost there . . .

(C'mon, you idiot! Keep going . . .)

Almost—

"Mr. Weasley! Miss Weasley, Mr. Longbottom. What – is – going – on? This hall is supposed to be lit at night." Ron jumped in shock as he came face to face with Professor McGonagall, Lupin, Tonks, and Professor Flitwick standing with their wands out. Pushing past all of them was a tall, redheaded bloke with an all-too familiar face. . . .

"Bill?" Ron asked in surprise. Ginny squealed and ran to hug her eldest brother.

"Ron, Ginny . . . what the hell's happening?" Bill asked sternly.

"It's Malfoy." Ron said darkly, looking among the adults. "He came out of the Room of Requirement with Fred and George's impermeable darkness powder and his Hand of Glory — that thing that gives light to the holder of it. Bill, I don't think he was alone. We heard people rushing past us, and they went in that direction." Ron pointed down the corridor.

Ron turned back and kept his eyes on Lupin, his gaze remaining steady and unwavering. "We heard growling, Professor. Growling that sounded like it came from a m- . . . animal . . ."

Lupin's jaw flexed and his nostrils flared; his body went rigid and Ron saw his wand hand grip the stick of wood until his knuckles turned white. Tonks put a hand on Lupin's shoulder to steady him. "Greyback," Lupin said clearly to everyone in the group. He strode out to the front. "There are Death Eaters in Hogwarts. We'll need to locate Severus. Minerva?"

McGonagall nodded and turned to Flitwick. "Filius go to Severus' office immediately and tell him. If you see any teachers, inform them that Hogwarts is under attack, gather any of the faculty that you can and find us straightaway."

With a single nod, Flitwick set off, faster than Ron thought he'd ever be able to move.

Lupin looked over the adults, pausing only momentarily on Ron, Neville and Ginny. With a small dip of his head, Lupin seemed to have made a decision to include the three teenagers, and Ron's stomach leapt up into his throat. "Right then," said their old Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, "we're off."


It only took two of McGonagall's Locator Spells and forcing Malfoy to run out of his darkness powder to catch up with their quarry in the corridor that led to the Astronomy Tower.

And only one second after that that the first Killing Curse was cast, missing Ron's head by mere inches.

"Ron!" Ginny screamed.

"Stay focused!" He yelled back.

This became more and more difficult as the stone surrounding the small band of Order forces started exploding into chalky dust around them. Ron stormed toward the source of the curses . . . but was pulled back by a very strong arm.

"Oh hell no! I'm not going to tell Mum I let you go anywhere near this! You're staying here with Ginny and your friend," Bill gestured to Neville.

"But we led you to them, Bill!" Ron shouted desperately. They ducked out of the way of a blue curse that sailed just above their heads. "I need to fight with you. I don't want anything to happen to you, you idiot!"

"Hate to break it to you, but I'm a fair duelist and a damn fine curse-breaker. This is my fight, Ron. I need to keep you three safe and out of harm's way. And they need me in there. So stay!"

"BILL! Hate to break up social hour but . . . GET YOUR FUCKING ARSE IN HERE NOW!" Tonks yelled all the way down the corridor. Bill ran, leaving Ron panting. He felt pressure on his back dragging him toward cover.

"Ron!" Ginny shouted desperately. A stray curse hit the wall just behind Ron, causing a chunk of wall to blow apart and Ron to fall over. "Bill's right!" Her voice was drowning out in the onslaught of curses and explosions. "Plus, you didn't take any of the Felix. We'll have a better chance of getting through this . . ."

"No way! Over my dead body are you fighting, Ginny! You're staying right here—" Ron covered both her and Neville just as a curse whizzed by Ron's left ear.

(Shit a hippogriff . . . my unlucky arse is gonna get them killed . . .)

(If you join the battle, you might be able to draw some of the fire . . .)

(But I need to stay here and protect Ginny . . .)

(And what about Bill?)

"Ginny's right!" Neville shouted over the din of exploding stone and yelling coming from down the corridor where the battle raged. "You'll only get maimed or killed . . ."

"Neville, I appreciate the concern, but it's my brother in there!" Ron felt the blood rushing to his head and he restrained himself from punching Neville for his complete lack of understanding.

"I know!" Neville shouted. "But they're trained for this, and you didn't have any of the Felix—"

"NO! TONKS!" Ron turned sharply at the sound of Bill's yell. An awesome, horrible roar rent the air, flanked by the sound of armor crashing and wall exploding.

"BILL! IT'S GREYBACK . . . WATCH OUT! NOOO BILL—"

A terrible sensation swept over Ron for two seconds as it registered in his brain that Tonks was screaming in terror for Bill . . . his brother, Bill.

With that, there was no stopping Ron, and he, Ginny, and Neville ran from the safety of their hiding spot, right into the fray.

Before them lay utter chaos. The Order was battling what looked like a small number of Death Eaters, fighting hard and to the bitter end . . . and the Order was outmatched. Not by a lot, but by enough to cause serious damage to the fighters. Ron pointed in one direction for Ginny to go, right in between McGonagall and Tonks, to seek shelter behind a fallen portion of a wall and fire spells from behind it. Neville was already charging toward the staircase that Ron recognized led up through to the Astronomy classroom. Neville was able to pull up a strong Shield Charm as Ron saw with a sickening feeling a Death Eater was shooting a Cutting Curse at him, meaning to make Neville bleed to death--

"Crucio!"

Ron leapt out of the way with barely enough time and rolled on the floor to look at his attacker. A tall, dark-haired, Death Eater laughed at him.

"Gin-ger," the man said with a leering sneer and twirling his wand. "Come out, come out, Ginger . . . Stand back up. I want to play with you some more. Red is my favorite color." Ron could hear the malice dripping from the man's lips.

"Oi, Ugly . . . is that a promise? Because I do love playing with the big boys." Ron had managed to roll behind a large chunk of stone in front of a suit of armor. He could see in the metallic reflection that the Death Eater seemed surprised at his retort.

Which provided him a split-second opportunity.

"Stupefy!" Ron shouted and aimed right at the Death Eater's chest. The man promptly fell over, stunned. Ron let out a quick whoop . . . that died on his lips as he saw his brother entangled with Fenrir Greyback.

Ron saw a lot of red.

Red that wasn't Bill's hair.

With a great shout, Ron ran toward his brother.

"Bill!"

That only succeeded in Greyback dropping Bill's bloodied body to the ground in a sickening thud and turning his attention to the unlucky Gryffindor, who was now cursing the small amount of Felix Felicis that Harry had been given by Slughorn and wishing that the bottle of potion had been just a wee bit bigger . . .

(Odd those thoughts are right as you're about to be—)

Without fanfare or warning, Greyback slammed into Ron, forcing the redhead against the wall.

"I see I get to taste the pair of ya!" Greyback sneered in a guttural, animalistic voice as he clutched Ron's throat, pushing him hard — and harder still — into the wall until Ron thought his spine would snap. Greyback sniffed around him, and Ron saw with disgust Greyback's yellowing fangs and the drool mingling with blood on his jaw. The beast licked his face and hummed in sinister satisfaction, "Reds . . . s-sssoo good . . . boys are tasty, but red girls . . . those are sweeter." And Greyback turned around to look at Ginny as she shot and fired spells from the concrete barrier.

"NOOO!" Ron's strangled cry of defiance. Greyback sneered at Ron — and Ron fell to the ground as some unknown force slammed right into Greyback knocking him off of his feet.

"Bill!" Ron yelled, as he watched his bloodied and bruised brother attacking Greyback. Ron scrambled to his feet, dove for his wand, which had fallen from his hands the moment Greyback attacked him. Scurrying over toward Bill, Ron barely registered a voice calling for the Death Eaters to get up to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Ron could just make out someone shouting, "He's there, He's up there!" Greyback and a number of Death Eaters complied with the command.

"Ron! Bill!" Ginny cried out. A curse barely missed Ginny. Without thinking, Ron started toward his younger sister—"

"CRUCIO!" The red light of the spell buzzed past Ron's ear from behind him. Ron turned around to face the Death Eater he had previously Stunned.

"Protego!" Ron shouted instinctively.

"Diffindo!" came the reply. The Death Eater aimed a spell directly for Ron's chest. Ron rolled and ducked. He shot a Stunner from under his arm.

"Stupefy!"

"Confundo!" . . . "Crucio!" . . . "Avada Kedavra!"

Ron and the Death Eater shouted and threw spell after spell at each other, and Ron managed to duck from the Unforgivables that the Death Eater kept casting. The Death Eater let loose an evil sneer, mocking Ron cruelly. "Little boy doesn't throw spells to hurt, does he? Little boy can't use an Unforgivable, or little boy'll go running to his mummy . . ."

"Silencio!" Ron shouted, the Silencing Charm barely missing the Death Eater. Ron's opponent laughed mirthlessly. It was a cold, chilling sound.

Ron wished he'd never have to hear a sound like that again.

"IT'S OVER!" Ron heard a shout to his left. His Death Eater opponent turned toward the shout. Looking back at Ron, he sneered and winked and took off after the voice. Ron continued to fire Stunners, Disarming Charms, and Total Body-Binds at the retreating form.

The rest of the Order continued to engage the remaining Death Eaters in battle. Ron ran to help Ginny out with a lumpy Death Eater who was wheezing laughter at her while yelling "Crucio" at his little sister.

"Ginny!" Ron yelled. However, he only managed to close the gap just to her left before—

"Lookit Red, over here!" another of the blasted Death Eaters started firing curse after curse to Ron, and he was stuck between this idiot an the lumpy bastard trying to kill his sister . . .

"Impedimenta!" And the lumpy Death Eater fell.

Vaguely, in the midst of battle, Ron heard his sister cry out, "Harry," but whatever else she said was drowned out in Ron's own concentration on the Death Eater continuing to battle him. He fired one last Stunner and it struck, sending the prick to the floor in a heap. Ron ran to Ginny, both Weasleys utterly spent and panting from exertion.

"Gin! Did you see Harry?"

"Ron, he went that way," Ginny was out of breath, ". . . followed Snape . . . someone else . . . Bill . . . ?"

"Godric fucking shit!" Ron spun around and saw Bill. His stomach gave a lurch and he saw Bill, lying where he had tackled Greyback. Ron had forgotten all about the condition of his brother during the mad dash to see Ginny and the ensuing duels—

"Bill . . . wake up you git! Merlin, Bill . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm so bloody sorry . . ." Ron had managed to crawl and duck over to Bill's now unconscious, still-bleeding form. He tried shaking Bill back to the conscious world, but it was to no avail; Bill remained thoroughly knocked out, and his face, Ron thought, resembled a bleeding animal carcass. Ginny had a hold of Bill's head, and she cradled it gingerly. Ron could tell she was desperately trying not to lose it.

"Help!" Ron cried out desperately. "Bill's down! Lupin!"

To Ron's panting, exhausted relief, Lupin had finally managed to strike down a blocky-shaped, black-haired Death Eater with a nasty growth of facial hair.

"No! Bill . . . Ron, what happened?"

"Greyback. It was Greyback, L-Lupin."

Paling, Lupin nodded. "We'll have to Levitate him to the Hospital Wing." Dodging a stray curse as McGonagall and Tonks ran after the last of the Death Eaters that were now following after their retreating comrades, Lupin moved around to where Ginny was kneeling on the stone, Bill's head still in her hands. "Ginny, Ron . . . I'll need one of you at his head and the other at his feet. Ron," Lupin addressed him, "you remember 'Mobilicorpus'? Snape? The Shrieking Shack?"

Ron gave a firm nod.

"On three. One . . . Two . . . Three!"

"Mobilicorpus!" They Levitated Bill into the air; with a gentle flick of his wand, Lupin was able to float Bill to a vertical position. "Make sure his head stays even with the rest of his body. We don't want him to lose any more blood. Neville's unconscious . . . I think he tried to break through a magical barrier on the staircase. I'll have to Levitate him as well—"

Ron felt himself blanching, but managed to show Lupin he understood. They only had to wait a few minutes for Lupin to float Neville's unconscious form over to where they stood. Together, the three of them managed to float both Bill and Neville toward the Hospital Wing on the third floor.