It was Monday night, eight days since Hagrid had been run out of the school. The fifth-year students were halfway through their OWLs; Harry had Arithmancy and Astronomy on Wednesday, before finishing with History of Magic on Thursday.

Harry was confident about his performance in his Charms and Defense examinations; the written portions were easy, and the proctors had seemed impressed at his performance in the practical examinations. Transfiguration had gone extremely well, as Harry had been asked to perform a vanishment during the practical examination; he successfully vanished a textbook on his first attempt.

Harry was somewhat less confident of his performance in Herbology and Potions, but he knew that he couldn't have performed too badly. He was certain that he had dealt with the Fanged Geraniums appropriately, and the most difficult question on the Potions Exam was related to Polyjuice Potion, something that Harry had more experience with than most of his peers. Runes had been Harry's most difficult OWL to date, and even Hermione was feeling stress about her performance.

Most of Harry's classmates were downstairs preparing for their Care of Magical Creatures OWL tomorrow. Harry, who had dropped the class after third year, was upstairs in his dormitory, buttoning his pajamas. Harry had nothing scheduled on Tuesday and was looking forward to a much needed break. His back hurt from hunching over parchment, his fingers were stained with ink, and his hand was cramped from clutching a quill. Harry planned to spend Tuesday revising for History of Magic, but he planned to do so while sitting on Slytherin's most comfortable couch.

The length of time covered by the History of Magic OWL was enormous, and Harry hadn't ever paid much attention in class until Snape had specifically advised him to do so. Thus, he planned to spend Tuesday cramming every possible fact into his short term memory, in hopes that some of them would be worth some points on his History of Magic OWL. Sure, he wouldn't remember any of those facts after Thursday, but by then the exam would be over and it wouldn't matter.

Harry wasn't particularly worried about Astronomy or Arithmancy examinations on Wednesday. Although the work could be tedious, Harry found the actual process of solving Arithmancy equations to be rather easy. Then again, perhaps that was just a function of revising so frequently with Hermione. And the Astronomy OWL was notoriously easy; many Ravenclaws joked that the hardest part of the exam was staying awake. Thus, Harry planned to get a good night's sleep tonight and tomorrow, so that he would be well prepared to stay up late on Wednesday evening.

Harry climbed into bed, went through his warding routine, and pulled the covers over his head. It was time for some well-earned sleep.

*!*!*!*!*!*

The dream was wrong.

That was the first thing that Harry noticed. The dream was wrong. The angles were impossible. Shelves leaned forward, creating impossibly steep slopes, but the glass balls on the shelves gave no sign that they were at risk of rolling away or crashing to the ground. Harry was somehow able to see three sides of the nearest shelf, even though it appeared to be hundreds of feet long. The floor seemed to ripple and lurch around, and in the distance, rather than fading to a vanishing point, the aisle in which Harry stood expanded to infinity. Perspective simply did not exist. The dream was wrong.

But none of that mattered, because Voldemort was torturing Sirius.

"You'll have to kill me," Sirius said defiantly, his voice echoed strangely through the chamber.

Voldemort laughed. "There was never any doubt that I would kill you," he said. "But I am curious to know… at what point will you give me what I want? When will the pain become unbearable?"

Sirius closed his eyes. A trickle of blood was running down his forehead and along the side of his nose. "Never," Sirius said.

"We shall see," Voldemort said. "You and I have hours to spend together, and there is nobody to hear you scream but me…" Voldemort laughed, loudly and deeply. "CRUCIO!"

*!*!*!*

Harry jerked awake. His pajamas were soaked with sweat, and he was gasping for breath. Harry groped around his side table. Glasses first, then wand. His clock showed 3:00 AM. Harry sat up on his bedside, jabbed his feet into his slippers, and began casting spells. Disillusionment charm, notice-me-not charm, muffling charm. After once last glance around the room to ensure that his dormitory mates were still asleep, Harry snuck out of Slytherin.

Harry walked directly to the Room of Requirement; at this time of night, he didn't need the Marauder's Map to tell him whether or not he was alone in the seventh-floor hallway. Harry summed the room he used to hide things, opened the door, and sprinted to the bureau where his possessions were stored. Harry ripped open the drawers and seized the mirror that Sirius had given him at the beginning of the year. He tapped the mirror, rapidly, over and over.

"Answer," Harry mumbled to himself. "Answer. Come on, Sirius. Answer! Answer!"

"Harry? What's wrong?" Sirius's voice was muzzy from sleep. When Sirius's face came into view, Harry could see from his godfather's red eyes that Sirius had just awoken.

"Are you OK?" Harry asked.

"Yes, of course," Sirius said. "What's going on?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I just… you're home? You're safe?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Sirius said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just had a horrible dream," Harry said. He sighed with relief. "It felt like my dream at Christmas, you know? The one with Mr. Weasley. Except it was you instead of Mr. Weasley, and I was Voldemort instead of the snake, and you were being…"

"I'm fine, Harry," Sirius said. "I'm at home, and I'm not going anywhere."

Harry nodded. He had a lump in his throat; he swallowed, trying to make it go away. "I was just… worried."

"You should get some sleep," Sirius said calmly. "I'll still be here in the morning. We can talk tomorrow."

Harry nodded. He knew that what Sirius was saying was reasonable. "Ok, ok," Harry said. "Goodnight, Sirius."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry moved to put the mirror in the bureau, but on an impulse he raised it once more to his face. "Sirius?"

"Yes?"

Harry hesitated. "Stay safe, will you?"

"Of course I will," Sirius said.

*!*!*!*!*

The stone floor was cold, and Lucius Malfoy was on his hands and knees, his head hanging downward. His blonde hair fell forward, matted with sweat and almost completely obscuring the grimace on his face. The room was dimly lit by blue torchlight, some sort of warehouse. Enormous, evenly-spaced shelves stretched into the gloomy distance, and at the end of the nearest shelf was a dusty sign: ROW NINETY-SEVEN. Only two sounds could be heard: Lucius's ragged breathing, and the voice of Voldemort.

"It has been two days and two nights," Voldemort said. "Still, no Harry Potter." In his left hand, Voldemort held a Death Eater's mask—Lucius's mask. As he spoke, Voldemort turned the mask left and right, examining it inside and out.

"I cannot account for his absence, my lord," Lucius gasped. "Please-"

"This was your plan, Lucius," Voldemort said. The Dark Lord's wand was in his right hand. The mere fact that the wand had been drawn was an implicit threat, but Lucius's demeanor suggested that the implicit threat had been made explicit—had, in fact, come to pass. "This is your failure. You should be punished for your failure, should you not?"

"Yes, my lord," Lucius said.

"And this is only the beginning of your punishment. You assured me that Potter would come. You were certain that he would come to Sirius Black's rescue, blindly rushing into my arms." Voldemort gestured to the vast blackness that surrounded them. "And yet, Harry Potter is nowhere to be found."

Lucius pushed himself onto one knee, but rose no farther. He remained in that position of supplication as he spoke, keeping his eyes averted. "My lord, by all accounts the Potter boy and Sirius Black act as if they were father and son. That he has not come to Black's rescue is…"

"…not terribly surprising," Voldemort said. "Six months ago, I may have been surprised. But now, tonight… his absence has not surprised me in the least."

"My lord?" Lucius was obviously confused. "What do you mean?"

Voldemort raised Lucius's mask up in the air, holding it up so that it was silhouetted against a distant source of light. "In August, you told me that Potter would never return to Hogwarts. Not only did he survive the attack you arranged, but he managed to slip through your grasp at his trial, as well." Voldemort lowered Lucius's mask. "In September, you assured me that your pawn would have Potter expelled by Christmas, making amends for her failure in the summer. But when a new year dawned, Harry Potter returned to Hogwarts. Next, you told me that the Inquisition would easily bring about Potter's expulsion—your son was on the Inquisitional Squad, after all. Yet months have gone by, and still Potter remains beyond my reach!"

Voldemort stepped forward. He was looming over Lucius now, and nearly trembling with rage. "Now you tell me that Potter can be lured away from Hogwarts if only I were able to imperil Sirius Black. I have sent the boy visions of Sirius Black's torture for two nights, and yet he remains safe!"

"I am sorry for my failures, my lord," Lucius said. "How-"

"No, you are not," Voldemort said. His voice had fallen to a whisper, but it cut through Lucius's apology like a knife. "Everything you have done, every failure, everything is perfectly according to your plan."

"I do not understand," Lucius said. Sweat had once again broken out on his face. For the first time, he seemed to lose control of his emotions. Previously he had been afraid, but now he seemed to be in the thrall of absolute terror.

"Of course you understand," Voldemort said. "I can see it plainly on your face. Your plans have not failed at all—they have succeeded perfectly, every one of them. The goal that you truly desired, though, was not the goal that you stated. Not at all. You said that you wished to capture Harry Potter, when in reality… you wished to protect him."

"NO!" Lucius shouted. "I didn't!"

"LIAR!" Voldemort bellowed. "Your guilt is obvious! Why did you direct your Ministry crony to attack the boy with dementors? His proficiency with the Patronus Charm was widely known!"

"I did not specify how he should be attacked—"

Voldemort began to laugh. "You are no fool, Lucius," Voldemort said. "After my fall, you evaded punishment, increased your family's wealth, and secured the Malfoy family's place as one of the richest and most respected pureblood families in England. No man who could accomplish those feats could also be responsible for such a spectacular string of failures… unless he intended to fail."

Lucius was silent.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" Voldemort asked.

"I have always been loyal to you, my lord," Lucius said quietly.

"You took Potter into your home, and treated him like your own son."

"A ploy, my lord, to join him to our cause."

"Yet another failure, then!" Voldemort's lips drew back from his teeth in a vicious snarl. "And with each failure, Potter has grown more suspicious, more cautious. Because of you."

Lucius's head sank even farther. "My lord…" His voice trailed off into nothingness.

"You lack the conviction to protest? To apologize? I had hoped for an admission of your betrayal, but your silence damns you all the same." Voldemort began pacing back and forth in the aisle, between the enormous shelves. "Do you know why I waited here with you, Lucius?"

Lucius shook his head.

"Once I discovered your betrayal, I wanted to give you one final chance at redemption. You could have been my most valuable servant, Lucius." Voldemort stopped directly in front of Lucius and raised his wand. "Incompetence must be punished, but betrayal will not be tolerated."

"I have always been prepared to die in your service, my lord," Lucius said, regaining a measure of composure. "I am sorry to have failed you."

"Death?" Voldemort said. "Yes, death will come for you eventually. But first…" Voldemort raised his wand. "Crucio!"

*!*!*!*!*

Harry jerked upright. He was in the Slytherin common room, and all around him fifth- and seventh-year students were clustered together, studying in small groups now that they had returned from dinner. Even Crabbe and Goyle were making an attempt at revising, although the blank looks on their faces suggested that the effort Daphne and Millicent were expending on them was being lost. Theo was sitting next to Harry, and Tracey was sitting opposite the two boys.

Harry glanced down at the table. He had fallen asleep on his Astronomy book, which was open in front of him. His arms were red from where he had rested his forehead upon them, and Harry vaguely recalled thinking that he would only close his eyes for a second. It had been two days since Harry first dreamed of Sirius's torture, and Harry hadn't had a good night's sleep since—he was constantly being awoken by those horribly distorted nightmares of Sirius being tortured. When he was awake, Harry knew that they were just dreams, but the nightmares were so horribly vivid that they never failed to rouse him.

"How long have I been asleep?" Harry asked.

"About an hour," Tracey said. "I thought you could use the rest."

"I'll be right back," Harry said. He stood and began to walk toward his dormitory.

"Is something wrong?" Theo asked. Harry did not answer.

When Harry returned, he bent low over the table, and spoke to Theo and Tracey in a low voice. "I need to talk to the two of you in the hallway. Now." Theo and Tracey exchanged a curious look, and rose from their seats to follow Harry.

Once they were in the hallway, Harry gathered his friends close. "Just before Christmas, I had a dream," Harry whispered. "It was about Voldemort, and it turned out to be true—my dream was allowing me to watch what was actually happening. And just now, I had another one." Harry quickly described his dream about Lucius Malfoy. "Voldemort discovered that Mr. Malfoy has been protecting me all year, and now Mr. Malfoy is being tortured for it in the Ministry."

"And you're asking us what you should do?" Tracey said.

Harry shook his head. "No, I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to go save him."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Tracey said. Theo nodded in agreement. "Tell Snape. Or McGonagall. Send somebody else to rescue Malfoy if he's that important to you."

"They'd never do it," Harry said. "Go charging into the Ministry of Magic, wands drawn, because I had a dream? Not in a thousand years."

"Maybe you should take the hint, then," Tracey said. "If those two wouldn't do it, why should you?"

"Because I have to," Harry said. He reached into his pocket and drew out the D.A. galleon. He scrawled on it with his wand, then tucked it away once more.

"What did you just do?" Tracey asked.

"I called for help," Harry said. He began walking, not caring whether Tracey or Theo followed. "We'll be meeting in the Room of Requirement. I'd like you there, but I'll understand if you aren't." Harry walked away quickly; there was no time to waste. After a moment, he heard Tracey curse under her breath, then the sound of her running footsteps as she sprinted to catch up with him. Harry could hear Theo's heavier footsteps just a few feet behind Tracey.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, when Tracey was once again at his side.

*!*!*!*!*

Harry, Tracey and Theo were alone in the Room of Requirement. Harry wasn't sure if anybody would show up—there was no reason to carry the galleon around, now that the D.A. had disbanded—but he hoped to see Hermione, at least. Anybody else would be a bonus.

Harry was shocked when the next person through the door was Luna Lovegood.

"You still carry your galleon?" Harry asked.

"Of course I do," Luna said. "The D.A. was nice. It was like having friends."

Their conversation was cut short by the abrupt arrival of Hermione and Ron. And the twins. As Ginny walked through the door, Harry felt his heart soar—maybe this could work, after all—but then he saw that Longbottom was close on her heels.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked.

"Harry wants to get himself killed," Tracey said.

Harry held up his hands. "We don't have time to talk about this twice. Is anybody else coming?"

"Not from Gryffindor," Ron said. "Ginny was the only one to get the message, and she brought the rest of us."

Harry glanced at Luna, and she shook her head. Nobody else from Ravenclaw, then. And apparently nobody from Hufflepuff, either. Ten kids to save Lucius Malfoy from Voldemort.

It was better than what Harry had expected.

"So, what's going on?" Longbottom asked.

Harry gave him a cross look. "I've… been having dreams," Harry said. "According to Dumbledore, some of these dreams are true."

"Are you having visions?" Luna asked, her interest suddenly piqued. She seemed fascinated by the prospect. "Are you a seer? Were your eyes removed as a child and replaced with crystal balls? Is that how you can duel two people at once?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not like that. They aren't dreams of the future—they're dreams of the present. That's how I knew that Mr. Weasley was in danger just before winter break."

"And tonight you had another dream?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Another dream like the one I had in December," Harry said. "Except this time, it wasn't Mr. Weasley who was in danger." Harry described his dream to his friends; Voldemort and Lucius in the Department of Mysteries, the failed plan to lure Harry with a false dream of Sirius, and Voldemort's discovery that Lucius had been helping Harry. "Mr. Malfoy has been helping me all year, giving me challenges that he knew I could overcome."

"So?" said Longbottom.

"So… I'm going to the Ministry to save him," Harry said.

There was a brief silence after Harry finished. George was the first to speak.

"I think Davis has the right of it, mate," George said. "You'll get yourself killed."

"You want to go fight You-Know-Who?" Ron said. "It's suicide."

"I'm not going to fight," Harry said. "I'm going to rescue Mr. Malfoy. Saving him and then running away is very different from engaging Voldemort in a duel to the death."

"With the Dark Lord, there isn't any other kind," Theo said darkly.

"And how will you steal Malfoy away without a fight?" Ron asked.

"Last year in Godric's Hollow, something happened with my wand and Voldemort's. They get tangled up. They neutralize one another and neither of us can cast spells. While I have Voldemort incapacitated, Mr. Malfoy can escape." Harry paused. "But I need help."

"So you don't just want to commit suicide," Longbottom said. "You want to take us all with you!"

"No," Harry said. "I need help getting out of the castle. And I need some of your goodies for a distraction," Harry said, looking at the twins. "I was thinking the portable swamp would do the trick. And anything else you can think of."

"Harry, have you thought about how long it will take to get to the Ministry?" Hermione said. "By the time you get there… there might not be anybody to save."

"I'll be travelling by floo network," Harry said. "I saw people using the floo to enter the Ministry this summer, and I know that Fudge has used the floo to come to Hogwarts this year."

Hermione frowned. "But the only working floo…"

"Is in the Headmaster's office," Harry finished. "I need Umbridge out of there."

"Which is why you want a distraction," George said.

"Exactly," Harry said. He turned to Fred. "I know a pair of people with a propensity for pernicious pranks. Could you possibly provide one, post-haste?"

Fred's eyes went wide. "With a request like that, how can we refuse?"

"Thank you," Harry said. He turned once again to address the group as a whole. "I'm going to rescue Mr. Malfoy. I can't ask for your help—it's too dangerous. But if anybody is willing to come with me… if anybody is willing to help Malfoy escape while I confront Voldemort… I'd welcome that."

"Then you are asking us to help!" Longbottom said. "That's exactly what you're doing! You want us to risk our lives for a Malfoy? Are you insane? What is going through your skull?"

Ginny put a hand on Longbottom's arm. "Please, Neville." When it was clear that Longbottom was done speaking, Ginny turned to Harry. "Why is Mr. Malfoy so important to you?"
"He could give us so much information about Voldemort-" Harry said.

"That's not enough for you to risk your life," Tracey said loudly. "And it certainly isn't enough for me to risk mine!"

Ginny looked askance at Tracey, but quickly turned her gaze back to Harry. "Is that the only reason?"

Harry took a deep breath. Ginny was right—information wasn't the only reason he was trying to save Mr. Malfoy. Harry had thought that he had killed this part of himself, the part that felt connected to the Malfoys. It had been too painful to think about, so Harry had killed it and buried it. At least, he thought he had. Now, it seemed that Harry had only shut his feelings away. They were back, as strong as ever. And that was why he wanted to save Lucius Malfoy.

"He bought me my first broom," Harry said. "He and Mrs. Malfoy came to cheer for me at the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He took me to the quidditch world cup. He came to take me away from my Aunt and Uncle every summer. I slept at his home, I opened gifts from him on Christmas." Harry looked down at the ground and blinked. Twice. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "He's the closest thing I've ever had to a father. And he's never stopped protecting me. Even though he was risking his life, even though I didn't know he was doing it, even when I thought he had betrayed me… he was protecting me." Harry looked up once again. He wasn't sure that he had successfully fought back his tears, but he didn't care any longer. "I've lost one father to Voldemort. I won't lose another."

Ginny nodded firmly. "I'm going with you."

"Me, too," Luna said immediately.

"You can't be serious!" blurted Longbottom. "You'll all be killed."

"Count me in," Ron said.

"Are you all insane?" Longbottom shouted.

"And us," Fred and George said in unison.

Ginny turned to Neville. "My father is alive today because Harry saved him. I'm alive today because Harry saved me. Mr. Malfoy is part of Harry's family, and I refuse to let my friend's family be killed when I can do something to stop it."

"Have you considered that this might be a trap?" Hermione asked quietly. All other conversation stopped and all heads turned toward Hermione. "You said it yourself, Harry—Voldemort's plan was to lure you to the Ministry. Maybe it's still his plan. Maybe he just changed the bait."

"I don't—"

"Why is he waiting for you in the Department of Mysteries, then?" Hermione asked. "Why wouldn't he be at Malfoy Manor? Or anywhere that he wasn't inherently surrounded by dozens of aurors?"

"I DON'T CARE IF IT'S A TRAP!" Harry shouted. "If Mr. Malfoy has been helping me, I'm going to go save him. And if that's what Voldemort expects, then I'll prove him right. I don't care what Voldemort wants—I'm going to rescue Mr. Malfoy."

"But why the Department of Mysteries?" Hermione said, almost frantically. "There has to be something we don't know, and that scares me!"

"He's been trying to get into the Department of Mysteries all year," Harry said, struck by sudden realization. "That's why the Order has been guarding it—to keep Voldemort out. But he's in there now, which means that I have twice the reason to go. Whatever the Order has been guarding, it needs to be protected."

"Then maybe we should tell the Order," Hermione said. "McGonagall, or Snape."

Harry shook his head. "No. They'd never take a risk to rescue Lucius Malfoy. If anybody is going to save him, it's going to be me. Us."

"What if this dream isn't even real?" Tracey said. "You told us yourself that Voldemort sent fake visions of Sirius into your mind, even though Sirius was safe! What if this is just another fake?"

"This dream was different," Harry said. "It's… it's hard to describe. The dreams with Sirius were wrong; space was wrong, sound was wrong. It didn't feel real. But this dream… this was real. I know it. I'm certain of it."

"I don't care how certain you are," Longbottom said. "Count me out."

"You'd let a man die just to spite me?" Harry said. "I guess I was wrong to expect anything more from you."

Longbottom ignored Harry's comment and turned to the rest of the group. "Please, don't go along with this. I don't care what his wand can do; Potter's going to get you killed."

"Some risks are worth taking," Ginny said quietly.

Longbottom shook his head. "Good luck, then. Be careful. If I haven't heard from you by dawn, I'm telling McGonagall."

Harry nodded. "Fair enough." Once Longbottom was gone, Harry turned to the twins. "How soon can you have your distraction?"

"Forty minutes," George said. "We need supplies from Gryffindor tower, then a few minutes to set up."

"A word of warning," Fred said. "Once we have everyone's attention, we won't be able to join you at the Ministry."

Harry frowned. Fred and George were good in a duel; he had hoped to have them along. But Harry needed to get to the Ministry more than he needed Fred and George to be with him.

"It'll have to work," Harry said. "Hermione, why don't you, Ron and Ginny go with the twins—having a couple of prefects nearby should prevent them from running into any trouble, and extra hands can't hurt."

"Once the twins are in place, where should we meet you?" Hermione asked.

"We? You mean you're coming with us?" Ron blurted.

"I'm not letting you go alone," Hermione said. She took a step closer to Ron and placed her hand between his shoulder blades. "And the more of us there are, the greater the chance we have of making it out alive."

Harry turned to Tracey and Theo, a hopeful expression on his face. "Well? What do you two think?"

"I think this is a stupid idea," Tracey said. "And I think we're all going to die." She slipped her hand into Theo's and their fingers intertwined. "We're with you."

"Thank you," Harry said. "I need you to go to the Transfiguration classroom across from the Headmaster's office. Take Luna along. Let yourselves in, and wait for the distraction to start. When Umbridge leaves the headmaster's office, you need to slip past the gargoyle before it locks us out. When the rest of us arrive, you'll open the gargoyle and let us in."

Tracey nodded. "Easy enough."

"Everybody know what they're doing?" Harry asked. He received nods all around. "Good. We'll meet in the Transfiguration classroom, and then we'll all go into the Headmaster's office together. The fewer times we open the gargoyle, the less likely we are to get caught."

"And what will you be doing?" Tracey asked.

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm going to get Draco."


A/N: It's the endgame. Less than ten chapters to go.