Ok. Feel free to kill me. I'm so sorry! All a bit hectic yesterday…not entirely sure why, but it was. Oh yes, and I had a chemistry test today, for which revision was needed. Meh.
Forever thanks to those who weren't late with their reviews…Disneydork, ballerinadoll9, NamelessHeretic, dingohart, PHEONIX39, Nessa19, GinnyP0tter, lemonwedges4, DancingCavalier, FalseReflections, elphaba731, Isis the Sphinx, Dobby's Socks, TheRedBandit, Thokul, Long Lost Dream37, Jane – Yes, I've noticed that. But it had to be her; what other seventh year does everyone care about so much? Thanks for the maths tip – thought I'd sorted that! Rather worrying for someone doing A-Level maths…, LostHeart4 and M.S.Memorial.
Anyway, on we go…
The next few minutes passed in a strange blur. Neville had released Hermione and the girl she was tied too, and, while the latter was standing, crying and shaking, Hermione had sunk to the floor. She was perfectly still, her face bloodless, staring blankly at the grass as though it would sprout her boyfriend any minute now, if she just looked hard enough.
And then Dumbledore arrived, and everything seemed to click back into normal again. He was as grave as Harry had ever seen him, sombrely taking in the scene behind the shack. McGonagall and Snape had come with him; the former seemed unable to speak, while the latter had an ever so slight trace of shock and disgust on his face. It was the most human expression Harry had ever seen on it, and, had the occasion been different, he would have relished it.
"Minerva," said Dumbledore softly, "escort the pupils back to school. All students are to return to their common rooms at once, and a register is to be taken in thirty minutes. Severus, please help Miss Granger and Miss Knightly to the hospital wing."
"Sir," Harry broke in desperately, feeling Ginny tensing next to him, "Ron…"
"Will be dealt with once I know everyone else is safe."
"But…"
"Go with Professor McGonagall, Harry."
Harry glared, pushing the multitude of emotions rolling round inside him into the deepest scowl he could muster. Katie was dead, Ron was missing, and all the old codger would do was stand there and stare at him like he was three years old!
"Harry, if you and Miss Weasley do not leave voluntarily, than I shall have to force you."
Seeing Neville and Luna, who had returned with the teachers, already turning to go, and even Ginny hesitate at the idea of being forced to leave caused some sort of small explosion in the pit of his stomach. How could they?! Ron could be hurt, Ron could be dying…except Ron wasn't allowed to die, because he was always there…and then Ginny was tugging gently on his arm.
"Come." she whispered, so only he could hear. "If he stuns you, or binds you, you won't be released until it's all over. Come freely, and we can do something."
Unable to argue round the logic in that, Harry threw a final glare in the headmaster's direction, and followed his girlfriend.
HTCHB
An hour had passed since they returned to the castle, and what little patience Harry had left was fast wearing thin. McGonagall had escorted them to the Great Hall and left, leaving the vast majority of the student population of Hogwarts gathered in one room to compare rumours, question each other and concoct their own theories of exactly what had happened. No one yet seemed to know of Katie's death; it was, however, general knowledge that several students had been taken to the hospital wing. Younger years too had been bought into the Hall; Harry had a feeling that Dumbledore would be addressing them all at some point that night. But right now he didn't care, he just wanted to know what was going on, what was happening, where Ron was…
So intent on thinking dark thoughts about the Head, and watching the door behind the empty staff table, Harry didn't notice the ghostlike figure stumbling towards them until Jane's gasp alerted him to it's presence.
Hermione looked as though she had aged about twenty years. Even her hair seemed to be flat. The three first years had remained unusually silent since they had found their older friends, perhaps guessing from the expressions on their faces that prying would not be welcome, and so the whereabouts of Ron and Hermione had not been questioned.
But now…
"Oh 'Mione…" began Izzy, approaching the older girl.
She didn't react.
"Hermione?" ventured Charlie next.
"Has Dumbledore come back?" Her words were directed straight at Harry, as though none of the others were there. Harry shook his head, and silence fell once more.
Eventually, confusion and curiosity outweighed the sense to stay silent, and Jane, in a nervous whisper, asked the company at large, "Where's Ron?"
"Gone." said Ginny hoarsely. "We don't know."
Charlie opened his mouth to question her answer when a tall, silver haired figure appeared at the staff table. Silence fell around the hall, the student body turning to look at their Head.
"Today," began Dumbledore, sounding weary and ancient, "saw a terrible crime occur in the village of Hogsmeade. For the second time in just two years, a student has been torn from our midst."
The mutterings began, people looking left and right, checking for friends and siblings.
"Katie Bell was murdered earlier this evening by Death Eaters."
Shocked gasps, cries of horror, Izzy erupting into tears and throwing herself onto Jane…
A high-pitched, manic voice, echoing through the school and right into the souls of those gathered there.
"Hello Potty. Enjoying our little surprise?"
People were looking left and right, searching for the source of the voice. But it didn't seem to be originating from a person; instead, the very walls were ringing with it. Harry, however, didn't need to see a face to recognise the mocking tone.
"Bellatrix," he muttered, as she began to speak again.
"One friend is dead, little boy, and the other will soon follow if you do not do as we ask. Meet us at the main gates in one hour. Bring who you wish, and be prepared to fight. If you do not come, your friend shall die. If you come, we shall leave him to fend for himself in the battle. Tonight is the end, Harry Potter. You and your friends shall die, and the Dark Lord shall rise again! One hour, Potter."
The voice faded, and the ringing stopped. Silence. Terrible, infinite silence, as the whole world held its breath.
And let it out again.
Shrieks, crying, the thundering noise of a thousand legs pounding backwards and forwards…and then three deafening bangs, originating from the Staff table.
"I would ask you all to resume your seats and remain calm." said Dumbledore quietly. "If the staff would join me for a brief meeting? I leave our Head Boy and Girl in charge – send word with the ghosts if anyone begins to cause trouble. Harry, if you would join us?"
Acting on autopilot, Harry climbed to his feet and trailed after the sombre teachers, half registering Hermione and Ginny following behind him, but thinking little of it. They were there, of course. They were always there.
"We must evacuate the students." said Dumbledore simply the moment the last of the staff and the three students had filed into the same room Harry had stood in once before, on what had felt like the worst night of his life, after his name had come out of the goblet. He would give anything to go back to that moment.
"What of the matter I informed you of, Albus?" interrupted Snape, tight lipped and frowning.
"We can only hope that Draco's father informed him of what was to occur tonight, and suggested he get out of the way. For the time being, our main worry is the students still in the school."
Harry frowned, briefly wondering at the fact that Draco Malfoy too had not returned from Hogsmeade. But then the conversation continued, and he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.
"But how? They must be nearby, the gates will be guarded, they will have undoubtedly blocked the floo…" Tiny Flitwick, worried but as strong as ever.
"And the passageways…between them, they must know them all…" added Hermione's arithmancy studies teacher.
"Not all." said Dumbledore quietly. "There is a passageway leading out of these grounds into Hogsmeade village. We send the students through it."
"Sir!" Harry, jerked out of whatever daze he had fallen into as the words and their implication entered his brain. "He knows…he'll have told them…"
"We shall use the passageway." repeated Dumbledore firmly, ignoring the dark looks of incredulation on the faces of the three youngest present. "Minerva, Filius, Severus, Ponama? If you would escort your houses to the edge of the Whomping Willow. Severus, you go first and deal with the tree. Send the students through the passageway."
"You think there will be a fight?" asked Snape silkily, as though asking if the headmaster took sugar.
"Of course there will, Severus! They are evidently after Potter, and since I for one shall not let them have him while there is breath in my body, then there will be a fight!"
Harry started, suddenly feeling immensely proud. McGonagall; tight lipped, strict, stern McGonagall, was willing to fight for him, to put up her life for him…if she actually believed in him…for a moment, a split second, it was as though the sack of bricks he had been carrying around had been taken away.
"What of the students? Some will want to stay, to help." threw in Professor Sprout.
"Those who are over fifth year and wish to stay may. All those from the first four years are to leave the grounds."
"I'm going down to the gates." said Harry quickly, just in case anyone was thinking of doubting that fact.
Snape frowned. "Potter, think this through for a moment. This is evidently a trap. Do not fall into it by putting yourself right in the firing line and getting yourself killed."
Harry scowled. "If I'm not there, they'll kill Ron. He might be dead already, but if he's not, I won't be the reason he dies. And if there is a fight, which you all seem to think there will be, then I'm going to be there."
"Us too." Added Ginny quickly, lest they be forgotten.
"Plan of action, Professor?" asked Hagrid gruffly, from where he loomed at the back.
"Once the students have been taken to safety, Filius, begin reinforcing and adding to the protective charms around the walls. Severus, Ponama, anything you think appropriate. Minerva, if you please. Madam Hooch, if you would alert the ghosts and the house elves to the plan, they may stay or go as they wish. And then go to Poppy, tell her to be prepared. The rest of you, please help escort those who are leaving through the passageway, and then return to the Hall."
And suddenly, the meeting was adjourned. One by one, the teachers filed back into the Hall, and the three students slipped in after them, trying not to notice the hundreds of eyes following their every step.
"You are all to be evacuated. Your heads of houses will lead you to a passageway out of the school, from which you should emerge in the Shrieking Shack. Those of you who can, apparate onwards from there. The rest are to head for the Three Broomsticks, and make use of the Floo network there."
"Is there going to be a fight?" called a tall, slim Ravenclaw fourth year nervously.
Dumbledore bowed his head. "We can hope not, but with Death Eaters confident enough to approach our gates, I think so."
"What if we want to stay?" asked Ernie Macmillan, sounding determined.
"Those in fifth year and above may stay if they wish to, but everyone else is to leave. Understand this, however; this is not a classroom test, or club simulation. There are people waiting at our gates who will torture and kill you without second thought. Please consider very carefully before deciding to remain. Severus, if you would?"
"Slytherins, follow me."
The only sound was that of the benches being pushed back, as the Slytherins rose to their feet and silently followed their head of house out of the room. Flitwick led the Ravenclaws next, but here a good number remained behind. Luna, of course, and Cho and many of her friends, and others too, some from the DA, some Harry recognised only as people he passed in the corridors. Even more Hufflepuffs chose to stay, and Harry suddenly remembered the Hats words: "where they are just and loyal…unafraind of toil…". Tonight, Hufflepuffs were proving their worth once and for all.
And finally the Gryffindors. McGonagall prowled the table, plucking the younger years from amongst those remaining – Dennis Creevy had to be physically removed from his brother's side. So busy was Harry in watching the faces of those staying and leaving, he did not notice the little figure stumbling towards him until she was right in front of him.
"I can't stay." said Jane resignedly, looking up at her brothers face. He crouched down slightly, so his eyes were level with hers.
"No." Harry agreed. "You can't. Go with Izzy and Charlie, get to the Three Broomsticks and go home to Mum and Dad and Jack and Gemma and everyone. Tell them…say…"
He found himself unable to word what he meant, but Jane seemed to understand. She suddenly launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and latching on.
"I'll see you later." she whispered fiercely in his ear. "And Ron. And Ginny and Hermione and Luna and Neville and everyone. Be careful. Love you."
And then she was gone, and the bricks were back.
HTCHB
Darkness had fallen. Fifty-five minutes had passed since the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange had echoed through the walls of Hogwarts, and now the grounds were filled with people. They surrounded the main gates, fanning outwards into the dark, and at the front, directly before the closed gates, stood three teenagers. They were slightly forward of the main mass of people, alone in the middle of the semicircle of teachers who fronted the hastily thrown together army.
Beside him, Harry could see Hermione, her eyes glued on her watch as she counted down the final minutes. No one spoke; there was no noise other than the occasional rustle of branches and cloaks. Armed with wands, potions, the odd venomous plant and, on Hagrids part, a pink umbrella and a cross bow, the people of Hogwarts watched and waited.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Gasps, shock, surprise and horror as, exactly on the hour, the walls and gateway in front of them seemed to melt away. They were still there – if you tilted your head and half closed your eyes, it was possible to see the occasional shimmer of the many spells that held the walls in place – but to the naked eye it was almost impossible to pick them out. What was far easier to see was the mass of black cloaks and white masks that waited on the other side.
HTCHB
What grabbed Harrys attention, however, was the figure suspended in midair above the horde of Death Eaters. Apparently unconscious, bound and sporting a magnificent shook of red hair…Ron Weasley. Next to him, Harry felt Hermione bristle, drawing herself to her full height, hair frizzing with anger. Her eyes were locked on the slowly revolving figure, as though sheer will alone could restore him to her side. Sensing she was about to do something that would probably involve attempting to hex every Death Eater within reach, Harry put a restraining hand on her elbow. Now was not the moment.
The gesture, however, did not go unnoticed.
"Clever move, Potter." came the shrieking voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. She appeared to have been elected leader of this particular jaunt, and was flaunting the fact to the best of her ability. "Wouldn't want someone's hand to accidentally…slip…whoops…"
The Ron-figure bobbed in midair several times, before slowing to a steady hover once more.
"Let him go!" shouted Hermione suddenly, making Harry jump slightly. Her voice wasn't strained or upset – pure anger radiated from it with a force that could have flattened small children.
Bellatrix laughed.
"Missing your boyfriend, mudblood? Don't worry, you'll be together soon. All it needs is for Potter to come through the gates, and we send the blood traitor over."
"And if he refuses to come?" asked Ginny, her voice quiet and yet still travelling easily.
"Then your mother will have at least one child to bury before the night is out."
"What's the point, though?" called Harry, drawing attention back to him. Keep them talking, keep them occupied, give the others and himself time to think of a plan…
"The point? They say you are moderately intelligent! The point, Potter, is your death, and the return of the Dark Lord!"
"You think killing me will bring him back from whatever hidey hole he's run off to this time? Or do you forget? He needed me alive, last time. I hardly think he'd be happy if one of you killed me before he could do it himself."
Bellatrix laughed, high and manic.
"Oh don't worry, Potter, the Dark Lord would never allow anyone lesser than himself to have the honour of disposing of you. Tonight you shall meet, and tonight you shall die."
"Unless your Master has managed to return to his body in the past nine months, I really can't see how that's going to happen." said Harry, trying to sound off hand, but his attention now caught by the mad woman.
"This time, he doesn't need his own body to kill you, Potter."
And then, rising from somewhere in the crowd, a second voice, vaguely recognisable and yet chilling in it's familiarity.
"I had always hoped to kill you face to face, Potter, but it seems it is not to be. Second best, in this case, will have to do."
The crowd of Death Eaters parted at some invisible order, and a figure moved through the parting. Tall, slim, sharply defined features picked out in the wand light, blond hair glistening ever so slightly,
Draco Malfoy, eyes gleaming a blood red, wand aloft supporting the bobbing shape of Ron Weasley, and the silky voice of Lord Voldemort snaking out of his mouth.
Hahaha! I love being an author. I can update late AND leave you with two cliffies in a row. Worship me! Mwahaha!
Honestly, though…make a loner feel loved…reviews are just a click away…
