Author's Note – I know, this chapter is a little bit late, the reason being that it's 33 pages long. I think you'll like this one. Things get REALLY interesting and REALLY good here on out. Canon plot no longer applies here. Let me know what you think. Oh, and I would highly recommend listening to 24 by Jem while reading this. That was one of the main songs on my playlist as I wrote this chapter.

Another Note – The chapter title means, "And Now We Fight," in Latin.

Disclaimer – I own nothing except the concept of the Ignius.


Chapter Fifty Three

"Quod Iam Nos Pugna"


"They're here…right now…Forbidden Forest," Neville gasped, bending over double as he tried to catch his breath.

"Who?" Hermione spoke up.

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, stepping forward, his features grim. "It's Deatheaters, isn't it?"

He nodded, eyes widened in panic. "It's happening, right now. They're in the Forbidden Forest. The Slytherin Common Room is packed with students. I don't know how much longer they'll stay there. Nott's right there with them."

A beat of silence, the DA Core digesting the current situation…

"Alright, this is what we're going to do," Harry then said, stepping up three stairs where he could see the entire DA Core. "Neville and Luna, go to your houses and get the younger years out of here…remember, the humpbacked witch on the third floor. Ginny, go alert Ernie if he doesn't already know. Go! Run!" He shouted.

"Wait!" Draco called out.

Everybody turned to Draco, Harry rounding on him. "We don't have time, Malfoy," he tensed.

Draco reached into his pocket and withdrew a vial of golden liquid. "I've been holding on to this all term," he said, holding it up.

"Felix Felicis," Luna said. "We'll need the luck."

Harry seemed to deliberate for a split second. "Alright," he then bit out. "Everybody takes a sip. But make it quick."

The vial was passed around, Draco taking the last mouthful.

Harry gestured to Neville, Luna, and Ginny. "Alright, you three, go. Now!"

They sprinted off.

Harry took a deep breath. "The rest of us, we need to get to the dungeons. Hermione, you know the spell, right?" He glanced to his left.

Hermione nodded.


Ernie Macmillian stared out the window, across the Hogwarts grounds, and squinted as something flashed at the front gate of the school. His fingers gripped the window frame as he leaned forward, another flash of light sparking against the gate. Ernie gasped, stumbling back and falling to the floor as the galleon in his pocket grew hot.

"Feeling a bit clumsy, Ernie?" Hannah Abbott laughed.

Gripping the table edge, Ernie pulled himself up. "We need to get the lower years out of the castle," was the first thing he said.

Hannah frowned. "What are you going on about?"

"There are Deatheaters at the front gate," he answered.


Albus Dumbledore had just charmed a pot of tea to boil, the latest issue of Knitting Patterns waiting patiently beside his favorite chair, when the alarm he most wished to never hear rang loud and clear throughout his quarters. Dropping everything, he rushed over to the fireplace.

Throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the fire, he stuck his head into the green flames. "Minerva McGonagall's office," he said.

McGonagall answered his call promptly.

"Alert the staff and the Order. Hogwarts is under attack," he solemnly said.

Closing the connection, he then gathered up his robes, he exited his rooms. Time was officially up.


An eerie silence had descended upon the castle as Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Ron passed through the Entrance Hall on their way to the dungeons. It was as if Hogwarts, itself, knew what was happening and was quietly preparing for battle. Knowing the castle, and the magic that ran through its stonework, their speculations weren't far from the truth.

They descended into the dungeons as quietly as possible, their senses on high alert. Rounding a corner, they all jumped as a door squeaked open.

"Psst."

Stephano waved them over, opening the door further to let them in. Breathing huge sighs of relief, the DA Core ducked into the empty classroom. Kristen stood not too far from the door, a handful of Slytherin students grouped beside her. Hermione quickly surveyed the group, counting eleven students, the majority first or second years.

"They were gathering for another meeting and I had a bad feeling about it," he whispered to Harry.

Hermione approached Kristen, checking to make sure that she knew where the humpbacked witch was. It was quickly concluded that time was not in their favor and that their next actions must be in quick haste. Kristen would take the group of students up to the third floor, directing them to take the passageway that would lead them to the basement of Honeydukes. Stephano and the rest of the DA Core, meanwhile, would continue on to the Slytherin common room.

In and out, they were, in a mere three minutes. The clock was ticking.

The entrance to the Slytherin common room was thankfully not too far from the classroom.

"You remember the runes, right?" Hermione asked of Draco.

He nodded as they turned a corner. "We went over them a dozen times. I won't forget," he said, glancing at her and grabbing for her hand.

Gratefully, she took it.

Another turn was taken and a short corridor walked down, their footsteps clicking on the stone. As they reached the end of the hallway, they slowed. They met each other's eyes and peeked around the corner, the next hallway containing the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

"Oh thank God," Hermione breathed, seeing an empty corridor.

"And considering we didn't run into anybody on our way here, I'd guess that they're still in there," Stephano said.

Hermione drew her wand, Draco dropping to his knees, his wand already tracing unseen patterns in the stones making up the entranceway to the Slytherin common room. She watched as the markings his wand made began to glow, individual runes crossing the doorway at a diagonal from one bottom corner to the opposite top one. Taking a deep breath, Hermione cast her spell.

It was once believed that when in need, the students within Hogwarts could call upon the castle's own magic to aid them. Of course, it had to be a true and desperate need that would awaken this ancient type of magic. Luckily, for the DA Core, what they asked for was above and beyond basic need. The castle obliged their request, the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room glowing once and then twice before dimming to a dull blue.

"There," Hermione said once finished, glancing at Draco. "They shouldn't be able to get out now."

"Or anybody in," Harry added. He looked at Draco. "Test it."

"I don't know the password any longer," he said, glancing at Stephano.

Stephano stepped forward. "Pureblood," he spoke.

The blue light glowed momentarily before returning to its previously dulled color. The DA Core smiled.

"Alright, now we have a battle to fight," Harry said.


Across Hogwarts' lawns, the front gate began to crack beneath the Deatheater's spells.


Minerva McGonagall hurried through the castle's corridors, her hands holding up her robes as the heels of her shoes clicked on the stone floor. The staff had always had a plan of escape to get the students out of the castle if such an occurrence as Lord Voldemort attacking the school should ever occur. However, the fact that she now had to follow that plan made her quite nauseous.

Rounding a corner on the third floor, she became aware of a quiet commotion in the next hallway. Her heart sped up, her mind painting visions of Deatheaters already infiltrating the school. The secret tunnel to Hogsmeade was in that hallway, she remembered. Drawing her wand, she quietly edged closer to the corner. Peeking around the wall, she sighed in relief, seeing not Deatheaters but students. However, upon seeing the students, her professorial duties reared up in her, and steeling a stern look on her face, she stepped into the corridor.

"What is going on here?" she asked crossly.

The students looked up, alarmed.

From within the mass of bodies, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood emerged.

McGonagall glanced between the two of them, knowing they were part of the DA Core. "I would like an explanation, and make it quick," she said. "There are Deatheaters…"

"…at the front gates," Neville said. "We know, Professor."

"We've been watching," Luna added.

Neville shifted on his feet nervously. "I don't want to sound rude, but we need to get them out of the castle," he said, gesturing to the few dozen Gryffindors and Ravenclaws watching from behind them.

McGonagall paused for a fraction of a second, stunned and amazed. "What about the others?"

"They're coming," he said. "We have this under control. Please trust us."

"You're needed downstairs, Professor," Luna said.

"We'll get them out," Neville said. "Don't worry."

"You've been planning for this," she said, looking directly at Neville.

He nodded.

She drew up all her resolve and nodded tersely. "Alright, then," she said. "Be careful. For Merlin's sake, be careful."

McGonagall disappeared around the corner.


Kristen, with the dozen Slytherins, and Ernie, Ginny with him, met Neville and Luna at the humpbacked witch, dozens of students following them.

"Listen up, you lot," Ginny hollered to the mass of students staring wide-eyed at them. Many of them were first and second years, several crying in fear. "There is a tunnel behind this statue that will take you to the cellar of Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. You'll walk quickly and quietly where you'll be safe. Do you all understand?"

Her question was met with dozens of nodding heads. Nodding, she turned and tapped her wand three times against the statue.

"Dissendium," she said.

For a moment, it didn't move. Then, coming to life, the statue stepped out of the way, a dark and long passage revealed. They ushered the students through the opening in a single file, the tunnel only accommodating students one by one. The amount of students seemed to never dwindle, Ginny growing impatient. She glanced at the others.

"There'll be time," Luna assured.

Neville swallowed hard.

"What do we do next?" Ernie said.

"We head downstairs," Ginny said, her words echoing the impending fight.

"They're at the front gates," Ernie said. "I saw them out the window before my galleon heated up."

"Nott was supposed to let them in." Kristen glanced at Ernie.

"Hermione's spell has hopefully bought us some extra time," Ginny muttered.

"I don't hear anything yet," Neville said, straining his senses.

"This is a good sign," she responded.

"Yes, a very good sign," Luna echoed.

Finally, the last student disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel. Moving the humpbacked witch back to her previous position, the five headed towards the stairwell.


Albus Dumbledore entered the Entrance Hall flanked by the Hogwarts staff.

"Stand ready," he directed, facing the massive doors.

McGonagall stood to one side of him, her wand drawn. Severus Snape stood on the other. He met the headmaster's eyes and nodded once.


The Great Hall's fireplace flared to life, glowing green. A figure tumbled out of it, followed by another and then another. Kingsley Shaklebolt straightened his robes, Tonks and Remus Lupin following him. From the flames, three more Order members emerged from the fireplace, an entire stream of them soon after. Once all accounted for, they joined the Hogwarts staff in the Entrance Hall.


A dozen fractures spiderwebbed through the front gates, and the massive iron structure groaned. One hooded figure stepped forward and drew his wand, blond hair blowing from beneath his hood.

"Reducto," he cast.

And that was it, the gate falling, and the Deatheaters rushing forward.


Dumbledore tensed. "Get ready," he instructed.


In the hallways leading off of the Entrance Hall, students waited under Harry, Ron, and Draco's direction. The black-haired boy peeked around the corner of the staircase leading up from the first floor. Across the way, a hand flashed a signal from the entrance to the dungeons. He nodded ever so slightly, the hand holding up two fingers before disappearing.

Hermione and the others were ready.

His eyes glanced upwards where he knew Neville and Ginny waited with another batch of students awaiting the beginning of a battle. Breathing deep, he closed his eyes momentarily, a silent prayer going out to anybody who would listen.

"Do you hear that?" Draco whispered from beside him.

Harry opened his eyes and tilted his head to the side.

Outside, an explosion sounded, muffled but close enough.

"Bloody hell, they're here," Ron whispered.


Hermione spun around to face the group of students piled behind her. "Get ready," she hissed as another spell hit the front doors. Something rattled and cracked.

Luna tightened her hold on her wand. This was it.


Upstairs, Ginny and Neville glanced at each other.

"Everyone ready?" Ginny called out.

"This is the last chance to back out," Neville said afterwards.

Nobody moved.


A crack had formed in the wooden beams that constructed the front doors to the castle. Albus Dumbledore watched as the split formed, spreading until, finally, the door gave away. The great and heavy doors fell to the side, crashing to the ground with a deafening echo. Deatheaters rushed through the blasted doors, wands already drawn with curses falling from their lips. Dumbledore, the staff, and the Order of the Phoenix met the Deatheaters head on.


Harry held up his wand and opened his mouth. "And now, we fight!"

Students charged into the melee, coming from three separate directions, the Deatheaters' wandfire having no discrimination between targets.

McGonagall dueled, curses and hexes flying from her wand just as fast as her opponent. Hearing a warcry, she quickly glanced to her side, horrified to discover students, students, fighting alongside them. A spell screamed past her ear, and the Transfiguration professor redirected her attention to the Deatheater at the other end of her wand. There was nothing she could do about them at the moment.

Moments into the fight, it became obvious that the Deatheaters outnumbered The Light. They pushed and fought their way into the Entrance Hall, filtering deeper and deeper, as if their motive wasn't to battle The Light, but to take the castle, to take Hogwarts. However, what they didn't figure on was the deep devotion The Light had for Hogwarts. The Light was fierce, the struggle to hold their own a strong one. Wandfire escalated, time passing, the Hogwarts staff, the Order, the students, and the DA Core fighting their battles.


Across the Entrance Hall, Draco took on two Deatheaters at once. Wings outstretched, he cast his hands out into the air.

"Oh, what's little Malfoy going to do with no wand?" one taunted.

The other laughed.

Draco grinned, twin fireballs shooting from his palms. The Deatheaters screamed.

Harry, who had just stupefied somebody, the body falling limply to the ground, glanced at Draco. "Good going, mate," he called out.

Flashing him a smile, Draco's expression soon fell, and he pointed. "Behind you, Potter!"

Harry whirled around, wand out.

"Crucio."

Ducking, Harry acted quickly, diving forward and tacking the tall figure to the ground. The man impacted the ground with a sickening thud.

In the Great Hall, Hermione, Ginny, and Ernie fought back to back. Deatheaters swarmed around them like Dementors to a free soul.

Great Hall, love. We need help.

Draco, who had been ready to repeat his fireball display, shoved the flames forward towards his target and took off running across the stone floor, ducking and dodging. Pushing his way into the Great Hall, he took flight.

"ExpelliarmusStupify…" Hermione cried out, taking a step back as the Deatheater advanced on her. Her back hit Ginny's.

The Deatheater sneered, pointing his wand, and then was suddenly gone, pure air where he had stood.

Look up.

Hermione looked up. Draco flew through the air, a screaming and thrashing Deatheater in his arms.

Shall I drop him?

Hmm, no, I think he should hang out for a while.

Hang out? Draco was confused for a moment, and then looked up at the rafters of the Great Hall. He laughed. Hang out!

Swooping upwards, he grabbed onto one of the wooden beams and hauled himself and his captive onto the beam. Straddling the beam, he ripped the mask off, the shocked face of Gregory Goyle staring at him.

"Gregory, Gregory, Gregory," he chided, taking Goyle's wand from his limp hand. "Such bad luck you have." Draco snapped his wand and slipped it back into the other boy's hand. "Well, gotta go!" Falling sideways, Draco snapped his wings open, catching an air current.

Hermione tore her eyes away just in time to get out of the way of a cutting hex. A searing pain in her right arm told her that she wasn't quick enough. Craning to see the side of her arm, she surveyed the shallow cut to be non-important and continued onward. However, she didn't get two curses further before a tall, dark shadow stepped in front of her.

Draco zeroed in on her. Hermione, run! Get out of there.

Lucius Malfoy chuckled low in his throat. "If it isn't my son's little mate," he said, glancing upwards, his wand pointed at Draco who circled around the ceiling. "You know…" He glanced at Hermione. "…I've told him many times, but betrayal has its consequences. The boy just does not learn."

"Don't you touch her, you dirty bastard," Draco hollered, diving down towards Lucius.

Lucius glanced up, aiming his wand at Draco. A stream of orange light hit Draco in the shoulder. Throwing him out of control, he barreled through the air and hit the wall, a sickening crack sounding before he fell to the ground.

Hermione screamed and raced forward, hitting Lucius in the abdomen. Grabbing her shoulders, he threw her back. She landed a meter away from Draco.

Draco? Oh God, please say you're alright, she pleaded within her head, the blond-haired boy not moving. Her stomach twisted sickeningly.

"Tsk, tsk, such a muggle way to fight, Granger," he taunted, wiping his hands on his robes. "Didn't anybody teach you the proper way to duel?"

Hermione groped for her wand, found it, and aimed it upwards. Lucius, however, was faster, a quick succession of hexes firing from his wand. Rolling out of the way, Hermione got to her feet. "Augmenti," she shouted, a stream of water hitting Lucius' face. She held her wand steady, the water continuing to pour from her wand.

Lucius sputtered and blindly hit Hermione with a hex. Her entire left arm went numb and tingly. Hair dripping, he snarled, snapping his wand forward, a red light coming forth and hitting Hermione in the side. She screamed, ribs shattering, and dropped to the ground.

"So easy," Lucius muttered, standing over her.

Draco! Wake up…WAKE UP! She glanced to the left and reached out for him.

Lucius stomped his foot, but Hermione withdrew her hand before he could break anything. "I've often thought about what I would do if I ever got my hands on you," he said, circling around Hermione.

She pressed a hand to her ribs and snarled.

"I'm his father," he said. "I have every right to say in what happens in his life."

"You're not his father," Hermione said. "A father wouldn't hurt his son or kill his wife."

Lucius made a noise in the back of his throat. "Mmm, yes, sometimes sacrifices have to be made," he said.

Hermione shook her head. "You're wrong, you're very wrong," she said. "You know nothing about life."

"I know everything about life," he roared. "Life is power. Do you know how much power is in a wand, Miss Granger?" he asked delicately, studying his own.

"Only as much as is within the caster."

"Ah ah, not true," he said. "And they call you the smartest witch in your year…yes, don't look surprised. I know all about you. What kind of a father would I be if I didn't know the girl who stole my son's heart?"

Hermione snarled. "At least he has a heart," she said. "You have no heart."

"Emotion is weakness, and Draco was always weak," he said, glancing at his son still slumped against the wall. "Even as an infant he was too caught up in what he was feeling. Quite the crier he was, always wanting to be held," he said disdainfully, as if such things were distasteful.

Draco? DRACO! Please wake up, she pleaded, brushing against him in her mind. Please? I need you, oh Merlin do I need you right now.

Hermione flicked a glance at her mate.

Lucius followed her glance. "Yes, I suspect he'll live," he said casually. "However, after hearing your demise, I doubt he'll want to any longer." He smiled, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Well, enough chitchat, Miss Granger. Shall we get on with it then?"

She touched his mind, the murkiness of unconsciousness touching back, and looked up at Lucius. "You can't win," she said. "You lost him long ago."

"I doubt that. There are certain…means in which I can gain what I want," he said and then drew his wand with a snarl, casting a quick cutting jinx.

Almost caught off guard, Hermione jerked to the side, the motion jarring her ribs. Wincing, she tightened her hold on her wand and retaliated. "Expelliarmus."

"Expulso." The curse hit the Slytherin table, it exploding. Wooden fragments flew throughout the Great Hall. Hermione dropped to the ground as a piece slammed into the wall behind her. Splinters rained down upon her.

Crouched close to the floor, she aimed upwards. "Stupefy."

"Incendio."

The table fragment caught fire. Hermione quickly aimed and cast a water spell, extinguishing the flames, before turning back to Lucius. The next spell was already upon his lips, the end of his wand pointed right at her. She dove.

"Reducto."

The spell missed Hermione, hitting the stone wall, blasting a great hole, stones falling to the ground in a heap. Dashing out of the way, Hermione narrowly missed being smashed. Panting, chest heaving, she watched as Lucius advanced on her, hexes and curses spilling from his wand one after the other. Ducking low, she felt as currents of air passed by her head, spells barely missing her. Then one hit her, knocking her to the ground. Scrambling, she got back on her feet, almost expecting to be hit with another curse. However, when none came, she looked up. Draco stood on the other side of a fallen Lucius and the pile of crumbled stonework, his wand drawn, a strained expression on his face. His left wing hung at an odd angle, smears of blood streaked across his face. It was a face Hermione couldn't have been happier to see.

"Is he dead?" she asked of the unmoving body of Draco's father.

"No," he said before stepping over Lucius' body and grabbing a hold of Hermione. Like lovers parted, they clung to each other. Draco pulled away and, just as quick, they were thrown back into the chaos, wands drawn.


Back in the Entrance Hall, Ron and Harry dueled Deatheater after Deatheater, Neville right alongside them. The once timid, brown-haired boy, now stood proudly as a member of the DA Core, fighting for the school he called his home.

"Oh, well if it isn't wee little Neville," a cackling voice taunted jovially.

Neville turned around.

"How are your parents these days?" Bellatrix Lestrange asked, a cockeyed grin twisting her face. "Oh, right, I forgot…"

Snarling, Neville lunged for her, wand aimed at her heart.

Bella danced backwards. "No, no, no, little Neville," she scolded, wagging her finger and laughing. "There will be no hexing."

"What about cursing?" he asked, his eyes shadowed and his shoulders tense as his wand shot out a tickling hex.

Dodging, she giggled. However, Neville anticipated her move and followed the first tickling hex with another. This one hit her, and she dissolved into laughter. The sight was slightly disturbing, Neville thought, watching as Bellatrix threw her head back, consumed in a heap of deep, belly laughs and snorts. From behind her, a whipping rope came whirling out, surrounding her tightly.

"Good on, Longbottom," Tonks cheerfully said, stunning Bella. Her hair was a shock of pinks and purples. "Just like your parents were."

Neville smiled shyly. "Thanks, Tonks," he said.

"Oi, behind you," Tonks called out.

Whirling around, Neville was just in time to dodge an acidic yellow hex. Instead, it hit one of the suits of armor, the metal sizzling and bubbling. "Confundo," he cast.

Hitting the Deatheater, the spell knocked him back two steps. Blinking, the Deatheater's mouth hung open and his brow furrowed. "Mum? Where am I?" he asked.

"Incarcerous." Ropes shot out of Neville's wand, wrapping around the Confunded Deatheater as he began to walk aimlessly around in circles. "Oi, Tonks, here's another," he said to the pink-haired Auror.


Further into the castle, the Deatheaters infiltrated, moving the battle deeper into the dungeons and up the stairs to the second and third floors. It seemed as if hours passed as the battle waged onward. The DA Core at some point got separated. Harry and Ron battled down in the Great Hall, the seemingly never-ending legion of Deatheaters bordering upon overwhelming. Their curses and hexes were matched head on, the scales tipping further and further in favor of the dark.

"Where are they coming from?" Harry gasped, watching as more hooded and robed figures poured in.

"I don't know, mate," Ron answered, ducking behind the overturned Ravenclaw table. Sweat slicked his hands, making it hard to get a good grip on his wand. His body trembled with exhaustion. "Harry, I don't know how much longer I can go on." Ron turned to look at Harry.

"You have to, Ron," he said sternly. "There is no other choice."

"I know," he muttered. "I was just saying."

An explosion sounded from the other end of the Great Hall, or rather what was left of the Great Hall. Debris covered the floor, stone and wood alike. The house tables were in various states of disrepair. Large craters marred the walls and the floor, bodies lying motionless among the destruction. Blasts and flashes of lights came again from the other end of the room. Harry peeked out from the side of Ravenclaw's table.

Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and a dozen Aurors and Order members continued to battle, taking hits and injuries in stride as their wands darted and wove, curses and hexes raining through the air. The great stained glass window that sat behind the head table absorbed a red spell before shattering, glass and ironwork flying out into the room. Figures ducked momentarily, the battle resuming again.

Harry and Ron traded looks as the green-eyed boy poked his nose out from behind the table. A hex came flying their way, another and then another afterwards.

"Protego," Harry cast, watching as a Deatheater narrowed in on their hiding spot.

A bone crunching hex narrowly missed their heads, smashing a bench a few meters behind them.

The battle up on the teacher's dais faded from their minds, their concentration centered on saving their own rear ends. Ten meters away, the Deatheater was, Harry and Ron backing away, keeping the Ravenclaw table between them.

Ron stepped backwards, firing off a freezing hex followed with a mild stinging curse, watching as a jet of black light that would have curdled his blood sailed upwards, Harry's curse deflecting the spell. He stumbled backwards as his foot hit something solid, his balance being thrown off-center. Ron hit the ground, his legs caught up in debris on the ground. Harry glanced downwards, one hand reaching down to haul his friend upwards while the other struggled to keep the Deatheater at bay. However, Ron barely registered Harry's actions as his eyes met another pair of eyes, the pupils transfixed upwards in a dead stare. Ron's stomach dropped. He'd never seen a dead person before, nor one that he happened to know.

"Lav," he whispered, reaching down to touch his dead girlfriend's face.

Harry wrenched Ron upwards. "Get a hold of yourself, mate," he screamed, as he shot a stunner at the Deatheater. It grazed his shoulder, the Deatheater wavering on his feet before falling to the ground. "Come on, we have to get out of here," he said.

Ron's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

"She's dead," he said in a matter-a-face manner. "And in a moment, so will we."

An errant spell from the main battle hit part of the ceiling, stone and wooden beams crashing to the ground.

Ron covered his mouth. "Right, right," he said hollowly. "Dead."

Harry stared at Ron for a moment.

On the ground, the Deatheater, not completely stunned, the spell only touching his shoulder, stirred. Groping around for his wand, he rose upwards, getting to his feet, his wand aimed at the two students a few meters away.

"Expulso!"

Harry whipped around. "Stupefy."

The two curses met mid air, exploding, energy blasting out in all directions. One such wave of energy threw the Deatheater backwards, the body landing sprawled across a pile of tumbled wall.

Harry and Ron stared at the body for a split second before turning to each other.

"Come on, we need to go, Ron," Harry said levelly. "We can barely hold our own anymore."

Harry's words weren't far from the truth. However, fate, apparently, would have other plans as, with a thundering crash, the doors to the Great Hall opened.


Deeper into the castle, the battle waged with an intensity that loomed upon overwhelming. Students fell where they were hit, those who remained standing continuing to fight. Ginny and Luna trudged over a fourth year Hufflepuff, her eyes open in death, the wandfire exploding around them in a glorious rain of death. They ducked and ran. Ginny glanced at Luna, the blond-haired girl furious in her movements. Sensing eyes upon her, Luna turned her head. Their looks both said the same thing; they needed to get out of there.

Rounding a corner, leaping over a blasted classroom door, they both collided with a solid figure. Ginny stumbled backwards as Luna fell to the ground, smashing her face against the stones. The impact stunned her, blood leaking out through her nose.

The tall figure chucked and drew his wand. Amycus Carrow leered down at Ginny as he aimed his wand at Luna.

"Well, well, what a treat I have here," he crooned. "Red hair…hmm, I would have to guess that you are a Weasley. Blood traitors, they are…your whole family."

He took a step forward, Luna flinching out of the way.

Carrow glanced downwards. "And, who are you?" He knelt down on the ground, his wand picking up a strand of her hair.

Luna barred her teeth, the effect, paired with the blood flowing down her face, made for quite the wild image.

The Deatheater chuckled. "Not civilized of course," he said, standing up.

He turned to Ginny. "Would you like to see a trick, muggle lover?" he asked cruelly, eyes glittering with whatever his mind was currently concocting.

Ginny paled.

Flicking his wand, Luna suddenly launched into the air, whipping back and forth. Her screams echoed down the corridor. "Isn't this fun?"

Ginny certainly didn't share the same opinion. Red hair flying, she launched herself at Carrow, tackling him to the ground. His attention diverted, Luna dropped to the ground with a thud. Ginny's hands and feet flung out in every which direction, making as much contact as she could, preferably if it were to a specifically sensitive area. Carrow, none too pleased, growled and grabbed Ginny, throwing her to the side. Rolling three paces away, Ginny reached out as her wand clattered across the stones away from her.

Carrow laughed, stepping on Ginny's hand. "I think this is mine now," he said.

Yelping, she wrenched her hand out from beneath his boot.

The Deatheater held up her wand and grinned down at her. Holding it up, he snapped it. "Oops," he said, snickering, the two pieces of Ginny's wand falling to the floor. "Now you have no wand." Twirling his own wand, Carrow advanced on Ginny. "Have you ever seen your own insides?" he asked as if on a whim.

Ginny scrambled backwards, her hand throbbing.

"A beating heart held in one's own hand," he mused, taking one step forward after the other. "Such power in just one organ."

Ginny blanched.

"One's victim must be alive, alive and alert, for the spell to work correctly," he said. "It's terribly difficult to cast."

Gulping, she reached for something, anything with which she could throw at him, preferably something hard and damaging.

"But don't worry your pretty little head over that. I've had lots of practice."

He drew his wand, caressing it lovingly.

Ginny shuddered.

Pointing the wand at Ginny, Carrow waved it, Ginny's heart sputtering, the first syllables of the curse sounding from his lips. From behind him, a spell flew, hitting Carrow dead center in his back. Freezing, his eyes wide in shock, he fell forward. Ginny stared at his form, her heart palpitating as it realized just how close it was to being ripped from her chest. Trembles began to travel through her body, but she pushed those down.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" Hermione skidded to the ground beside Ginny, grabbing her around the shoulders.

Taking a shaky breath, she patted her chest, still feeling the beating of her heart. "Yeah, I'm alright," she said, flexing her injured hand gingerly.

Behind Hermione, Draco knelt beside Luna stiffly, as if he were in pain. "She's not dead," he said. "She's still breathing."

Hermione glanced once behind herself before offering her hand to Ginny. "Come on, we have to get to the Hide Away."

Ginny took Hermione's hand with her good hand and got to her feet, grabbing the older girl around the waist to gain what shaky balance she had. Hermione hissed, backing away, one hand plastered to her side.

"Sorry," Ginny winced.

"It's alright, just a few broken ribs," she said, closing her eyes for a moment to regain her composure. Hermione looked at Ginny. "Where's your wand?"

Ginny nodded at the remains of her wand cast across the stones a few paces away from her. "He broke it," she said morosely.

Draco hefted Luna's weight in his arms and flinched, groaning. "Come on, we need to go," he said.


Neville raced through the seventh floor corridors, a half dozen Deatheaters in hot pursuit behind him. Though a prominent limp slowed him down, the urgency of his situation deadened the feeling in his left ankle. Three floors below, he had been making a hasty retreat when, head on, he had come face to face with a mass of Deatheaters bent on leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake. Thinking quick on his feet, Neville had spun around and sprinted in the opposite direction. Heavy wandfire had followed him, suits of armor, paintings, and statues exploding. Debris had hailed all around him, bruising his flesh. Desperately, he scrambled to the seventh floor, loosing his footing as he changed staircases. His ankle had turned beneath him painfully, tendons and ligaments snapping.

He had to keep moving, his life depending on it, this being the mantra he kept repeating in his head as he dodged spells and curses. A nasty acid green hex sailed over his head. Neville ducked and spun around a corner, darting behind a half-destroyed statue of a woman. Panting, he braced his hands on his knees, eyes watching in terror as they caught up to him. Tucked between the statue and the wall, he watched as they came to a stop not even a meter away from where he hid.

"Where'd he go?" one asked. "He was just here."

Another sneered. "He can't have gotten far."

Yet another snorted. "Not with that ankle."

"Oi," the first said. "He probably went down here." He gestured to an adjacent hallway.

The Deatheaters grunted their agreement. Neville let out the breath of air he'd been holding in and carefully hopped out into the corridor on his uninjured foot. Tentatively, he placed the other one down on the ground. Then, limping, he headed towards the end of the hallway, the Hide Away not too far away. Reaching it, he half limped and half hopped three times up and down the hallway, concentrating as hard as he could on his need for somewhere safe. Like clockwork, the door appeared.

"Finally," he muttered, opening the door.

Expecting the warmth of their Hide Away, he was taken aback when, instead, he got a room full of junk. Frowning, he closed the door behind him, craning his neck as he glanced upwards at the towering piles of odds and ends that were packed into the room. Tiny pathways were carved through the room, weaving between the mountains of broken furniture, piles of discarded books, and scatterings of smashed bottles. In interest, he peered through one of the towering, peaked windows and down onto Hogwarts' grounds. A battle still raged even on the school's front lawn. Looking away, Neville poked through the room's contents, ducking quickly as a Fanged Frisbee, its magic having diminished, wobbled precariously through the air. Stepping to the side, he braced himself on the back of an old chair, a rusted ax resting against it and was distracted by a bright twinkle a few meters away.

Curious, he limped forward. An old tiara, tarnished and smudged with age, sat amidst a pile of muggle trading cards. Reaching down, he picked it up, turning it this way and that, studying it. The light streaming in from the high, cathedral windows reflected faintly off of an inscription etched into the metal.

"'Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure,'" Neville read before shrugging with disinterest and dropping it back onto the pile of trading cards.


The crashing Great Hall doors hung from their hinges, the sound reverberating through the remains of the room. As if this were their queue, a hush descended over the Deatheaters, the fighting ceasing as a robed figure entered the battle-torn Great Hall. A heartbeat of silence passed before two fine-boned, white hands removed the hood, Lord Voldemort's glowing, red eyes casting about in a pleased manner.

Gasping, Harry barely repressed a scream, hand clutching his head.

Dumbledore straightened up, eyes focused on Voldemort. "Tom," he said as way of a greeting. The battle had taken its toll on the Headmaster, the man trembling and finding it hard to maintain an upright position. His wand hand hung limply, though his wand was still clutched within his fingers.

"Dumbledore, yes, we meet again," he said, gliding forward.

Deatheaters parted and bowed to their master.

From behind the overturned table, Harry and Ron watched.

Lord Voldemort shifted his attention from Dumbledore to Snape, who stood beside Dumbledore on the opposite side of which McGonagall stood.

"Severus, I believe it is time you proved your loyalty to me." His words were delivered with a silky voice.

"Tom, there is a better way," Dumbledore said, his words not a plea for mercy.

Voldemort sneered. "There is no other way," he said. "You and your muggle-loving beliefs have tainted our society long enough. Muggles are nothing but creatures to be dominated and tamed," he roared. "The infusion of their blood with ours is a mockery, a disrespect to everything we've fought for."

Dumbledore's face fell, his expression bordering upon sorrowful. "How I've lead you astray, my boy," he said.

He ignored the old man's words. "Change is upon us," he said, turning to Snape. "And it begins now. Severus!"

The Potions Master tensed his shoulders, letting any emotion dissolve from his facial features.

Harry and Ron gripped the edge of the table, their eyes peeking around, widening as they watched the tableau unfolding right before their eyes.

"Your loyalty, Severus," Voldemort said.

Severus glanced at McGonagall. "Forgive me," he mouthed, his lips moving almost imperceptibly.

"If it must be, then it must be," Dumbledore said, letting his wand drop to the ground.

Voldemort grinned with glee, folding his hands.

Raising his wand, Snape shifted his eyes back to Dumbledore.

"No, no, no," Harry began to mumble, a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Ron's hand kept him from bolting upwards.

A pregnant pause heralded for a moment, breaths held, and then two words were spoken.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green light flashed, Harry wrenched free from Ron's grasp, and Voldemort's head snapped around.

"Harry Potter!"

"Harry, no!" Ron leapt up.

"You bastard," Harry hollered, setting out for Snape. "He trusted you."

Ron grabbed the back of Harry's robes. "Silencio," he said, Harry's mouth moving in silent motion. Then, like a Deatheater out of Azkaban, they hightailed it out of the Great Hall, Voldemort's roar being the catalyst for dozens of curses aimed their way. Dragging Harry, Ron knew exactly where to go, there being only one truly safe place left.


Hermione, Ginny, and Draco, Luna still unconscious, arrived in the seventh floor corridor at exactly the same time that Harry and Ron did. Ginny gasped and launched herself at the black-haired boy.

"Harry!"

"Snape killed Dumbledore…Voldemort's here," he said, gasping for air, his words mixed with hers. Harry grabbed her in an embrace, glancing over his head at the rest of the DA Core, a grim and angered look on his face.

Hermione blanched, edging closer to Draco. "He's dead?"

"Voldemort's here?" Draco asked at the same time.

Ginny pulled away. "You've got to be kidding."

Harry shook his head.

Reaching out with her mind, seeking a moment's comfort, Hermione squared her shoulders. "Even more reason to get out of here," she said, Draco returning the gentle touch, glancing at her. "As in, right now."

Ron glanced at Luna, his face paling. "She…she isn't…"

Draco shook his head. "Dead? No," he said, staggering. "But someone needs to take her. Please…"

Immediately, Harry stepped forward, Luna transferring arms.

Your numbing spell's wearing off, Draco said to Hermione. Cast it again, will you?

She glanced at him, his face ashen. Of course. Hold still. "Obtorpesco," she cast, Draco's face relaxing and the edging panic rising towards the surface of his consciousness fading.

"Oi," Harry then said, something occurring to him as he glanced about. "Where's Neville?"

The DA Core froze, the sick realization registering in their heads.

"Last I saw he was with you," Ginny said.

"Same here, before we got separated," Draco added.

"I haven't seen him for hours," Ron said, horrified.

Fearful glances were exchanged.

"We have to go back," Harry decided.

"We can't just leave him," Draco said next.

From under them, an explosion shook the castle.

Hermione glanced in the direction of the blast. "But we can't all just go back down there," she said. "We're bleeding, exhausted, and injured…"

"We should get in here first, and then decide," Ginny spoke up, the door to the Hide Away appearing after three quick paces.

Another explosion followed by a series of blasts sounded from below, growing closer. The floor quaked, dust and stones falling from the ceiling.

There was no question what the DA Core would do.


Neville froze as he heard the room's door open. But then voices carried, voices he recognized.

"Harry?! Ron? Draco? Luna? Luna!" Stumbling over haphazard, discarded objects, he skidded to a stop as his friends came into view. The first thing he saw, the first sight that drew his eyes, was Luna hanging limply in Harry's arms. "Oh God," he moaned.

"She's not dead," Harry said quickly before adding, "and neither are you."

Ecstatic greetings were exchanged, back slaps and hugs given all around as they shared brief versions of their battle experiences.

"He's really dead?" Neville asked, stunned, after Harry filled him in on recent developments.

Neville took Luna from Harry, holding her closely.

"No thanks to Snape," Harry answered.

The DA Core shared Harry's sentiments, adding their own in regards to the greasy, traitor of a Potions Master. If words could kill, barring those said in conjunction with wand movement, Severus Snape would have been dismembered, decapitated, disemboweled, and robbed of that which every man protects. A murderous glint shone in each of their eyes, unspoken words sharing what they would do to the man if they ever came upon him.

A weary moment then passed, the DA Core wilting, their minds shifting to more immediate concerns.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked, looking around.

"I don't know. I was thinking hard about somewhere safe, our Hide Away, when this appeared," Neville said. "Lots of neat things in here. Did you see the stuffed troll over there?" He pointed off to the right.

A quick assessment of the room was attained, the DA Core marveling at the room's contents but agreeing that escape from the castle was a more urgent need than their own curiosities.

"So, what do we do now?" Ron asked. He had sat down in an old, over-stuffed chair, the stuffing spouting out in every which way.

"We need the Hide Away room," Harry said. "Neville, you called this room up, so you need to call up the Hide Away."

"How…how do I do that?" he asked.

"Just think about what you want the room to do," Harry instructed.

"I'll try." Neville nodded, closing his eyes.

The room with the haphazard assortment of objects blurred, fading from view, the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of their Hide Away coming into view.

"I did it!" Neville grinned, the DA Core patting him on the back.

"Well done, mate," Harry said.

A fire crackled in the fireplace, the room just as they had left it. School books were scattered across the tables, parchments and quills filling the spaces in between. A stray set of robes was tossed over one of the armchairs, various articles of clothing or possessions strewn about the room. On the wall above the tables, the Marauder's Map detailed the legion of Deatheaters filling the castle. They covered all seven floors. The DA Core collapsed onto the couches, the adrenaline rush from the battle wearing off, fatigue and pain taking its place. Closing their eyes, they relished the quiet relief of safety.

"Hello."

A voice drew their attention.

"Did you hear that?" Ron asked, sitting up stiffly.

"You're hearing things, Weasley," Draco snapped.

Be nice…

"No, I assure you, you're not hearing things," the voice said again.

This had the DA Core sitting up, all senses alert. Harry drew his wand, the others doing the same.

"Up here," it instructed. "Above the fireplace."

The pixie portrait, that had once failed to move even the slightest bit, had now come to life. Bouncing and twirling, the cute pixie smiled down at the DA Core.

"You need to escape," she said, her words not a question but a statement.

Harry stepped forward. "We do."

A click was heard. "Step through and you'll find solace," she said, gesturing to the edge of her frame.

Frowning, Harry carefully reached up and pulled on the edge of the frame. It swung open, revealing a dark tunnel. "Where does this lead?" he asked the pixie.

She giggled. "Enter, and you shall see."

He glanced back at the DA Core. "Do we go?"

An explosion, louder and more earth-shattering than the first two, came from not too far away.

"Yes," Draco insisted. "I say we do."

The rest of them agreed, and thus it was determined. A scramble ensued to push one of the couches over, the DA Core aiding each other up onto the couch and then the fireplace mantle. Harry, going first, lit his wand, shining it into the tunnel, only darkness meeting him. He turned back.

"Neville, hand me Luna," he instructed, the brown-haired boy carefully stepping onto the couch.

"Wait," Hermione said, stopping him. She drew her wand. "Mobilicorpus."

Luna floated up towards Harry.

Neville grinned a thanks at Hermione before climbing up. One by one, they clambered onto the mantle and stepped into the tunnel. Hermione, being the last to enter, closed the portrait like a door.

"Thank you," she whispered to the pixie.

"A favor called is a favor granted," the pixie answered, the frame clicking shut.

Darkness met them, a half dozen wandlights illuminating their way.

"I guess we walk," Harry said, glancing back at his friends.

A rumbling rattled the portrait.

"Sooner the better, Potter," Draco said.

As they began walking, Ron glanced over at his friends. "So much for the Felix Felicis," he said begrudgingly.

Harry turned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call our situation right now lucky," he said.

"I would," Neville spoke up softly, turning to Ron. "We lived, didn't we?"