'Crucio!' Neville shouted. Draco No-Name turned to Neville in surprise. That surprise turned to horror as Neville's Cruciatus Curse flew at him. No-Name barely sidestepped the spell, jumping to the side as the red spell passed.

'Is that Longbottom?' No-Name sneered. 'You filthy squib. You dare use that curse against me?'

'Picked a fight above your station, No-Name?' Neville growled.

'When the Dark Lord takes over, I will no longer be Draco No-Name!' the ponce shouted. 'I will be honoured for my blood, just like I should be! You, on the other hand, will be worth less than a Mudblood, less than a muggle!'

Neville calmly gestured at the dead bodies that was all that was left of Voldemort's army. 'Doesn't look like your pathetic Dark Lord will be taking over very soon, though.'

Draco No-Name seethed, a furious look on his face. 'You dare insult the Dark Lord? You filthy good-for-nothing blood-traitor!'

'Good for nothing?' Neville heard Daphne's taunting voice from behind him. 'Why, Draco, it almost sounds like you're talking about yourself! You can't even force your pathetic self on women, can you, Draco? Harry took care of that little problem a few months back, did he not?'

'You!' No-Name snarled. 'You!'

'Yes, me,' Daphne ridiculed. 'What about me? Stupefy!'

No-Name's face flushed a deep purple in anger as he jumped out of the way of the spell. He opened his mouth, but Neville could see that he was having trouble forming words in his rage.

'Blood-traitor!' he instead settled for the mindless slur. 'I should've done this earlier! Avada Kedavra!'

Neville watched in horror as the Killing Curse flew, but Daphne deftly dodged the curse. The green jet impacted one of the conjured walls behind him, exploding in a shower of sparks and dust.

Neville turned back to No-Name, seeing red. 'You did not just do that,' he growled.

'What're you going to do about it, blood-traitor squib?'

'Quite foolish of you to be insulting death,' Neville said softly in his most dangerous voice. 'Confringo! Avada Kedavra! Confringo!'

Draco No-Name jumped out of the way of the three curses, but one of the Death Eaters standing adjacent to him was not so lucky. He was hit in the face by Neville's Killing Curse and fell. The other Death Eater, however, sidestepped his two Blasting Curses and remained standing.

No-Name roared in rage. 'You dare!' he bellowed. 'Avada Kedavra!' Neville easily sidestepped his slow-moving Killing Curse. 'Stop dodging, blood-traitor, and use your wand! Avada Kedavra!'

Neville ignored No-Name's brain-deprived insults. Vaguely, he became aware that Daphne and Susan had joined him in the fight. Daphne was back with her signature move, casting a series of flashy hexes and jinxes that took little effort and did little damage, but nonetheless required No-Name and his fellow Death Eater to constantly dodge or shield, tiring them out.

'Is that all you can do, blood-traitor whore?' No-Name snarled. 'Can't even cast real spells? I was right, your only use was as a proud pure-blood's cum receptacle!'

Neville raised his wand, wanting to curse No-Name into dust for the insult. 'Nev, don't,' Daphne hissed in his ear. 'He's trying to provoke you. Don't let him, please!'

Neville nodded and took a deep breath, controlling his temper. Instead of throwing all the darkest spells he knew at the ponce, he copied his girlfriend and sent a series of Stunning Spells, Disarming Charms, and other jinxes at him. No-Name was forced to dodge again. Neville could see that the idiot was getting incredibly annoyed by their tactic, but was unable to do anything in return, as he was too busy trying to avoid the various jinxes that were being flung his way.

They kept this up for what must have been several minutes. Over the sounds of spell fire, they could hear No-Name's panting. Perhaps they would tire him out, Neville hoped, perhaps he would surrender… Whatever No-Name had done, Neville really did not want to end the life of a boy his own age.

'Enough!' No-Name yelled suddenly. 'Enough of your games! Fiend-'

'No!' a new voice shouted. All the spell fire stopped as everyone turned to look at the newcomer. A blond-haired woman was charging out onto the battlefield. Neville recognized her as Narcissa Black…Draco No-Name's mother. She was followed by another woman, this one with brown hair. Neville knew her to be Narcissa's sister.

'Who are you?' No-Name snarled. 'I don't know you.'

Narcissa Black tried not to look hurt. 'Draco…you're better than this. Please…it's not too late…'

'Who are you?' No-Name repeated, sneering at his own mother. 'And who's that bitch with you?'

'Draco,' Narcissa pleaded. 'You don't have to do this…you can still come back… Please, Draco. Your aunt and I – '

'I don't have an aunt! Not anymore!' No-Name shouted. 'The only aunt I had was murdered by the Mudbloods and blood-traitors that you've been shamelessly corrupting yourself with! And now you're trying to lure me in, to kill me, or worse, turn me into a filthy Mudblood-lover like you!'

'I'm still your mother, Draco,' Narcissa said quietly. 'I still want to give you a chance…you needn't follow your father's beliefs to the grave.'

No-Name roared in fury. 'I have no mother! I haven't had a mother since she turned her back on my father and ran to the company of the blood-traitors! You're just another obstacle in the way of the Dark Lord's righteous rule!'

Narcissa looked shocked. Neville could not help but feel sorry for her. He wondered how it would feel if his own son turned on him like that. He found that he could not begin to imagine what the shock would do to him.

'My only family is the aunt that you helped murder!' No-Name bellowed. 'The Dark Lord would punish you for your treachery, blood-traitor, but he need not bother! I will settle my personal scores myself!'

'Draco, you aren't going to kill your own mother and your aunt!' Narcissa gasped.

'Weren't you listening to me?' No-Name sneered. 'You are no mother of mine! Neither is that Mudblood-loving brat my aunt! You killed the only woman worthy of calling herself my family! You're my enemy! I'll kill you!'

Neville watched in horror as No-Name and the remaining Death Eater by his side raised their wands. Narcissa made no effort to resist. It seemed like she could not bring herself to level her wand at her own flesh and blood.

No-Name had no such reservations, however. 'Avada Kedavra!' he snarled. A green jet of light flew from his wand. But instead of aiming for Narcissa, No-Name had aimed at her sister. Narcissa gave a shriek of horror as she saw where the spell was flying and rushed to pull Andromeda out of the way.

'What's wrong?' No-Name taunted. 'Can't stomach a Mudblood-shagger getting what she deserves anymore? I'll kill her first! I'll make sure you watch as she dies!'

That seemed to push Narcissa over the edge. Her wand shot into her hand and she raised it at her own son. 'You won't be killing anyone, Draco! Not today, not ever!' she shouted. 'And especially not my sister!'

Narcissa shot several Stunning Spells in Draco's direction. He sidestepped them all, but the Death Eater who had been fighting next to him was hit in the chest by at least three Stunners in a row. He was thrown through the air and landed a distance away, crumpled in an unconscious pile.

Neville, Susan, and Daphne rushed forward to join the fight, but Narcissa threw them aside with a flick of her wand. They could only watch as Narcissa and Andromeda fought their son slash nephew. Neither of the sisters were using any spells more dangerous than Stunners or minor jinxes, while Draco No-Name fought back with all the dark curses that he knew.

'When did you turn so weak?' No-Name taunted his mother. 'Can't even cast curses like a proper witch? What did you lose when you stabbed us in the back for those blood-traitors?'

'I lost nothing,' Narcissa replied in between casts. 'It's you that lost something, Draco, when you took that Mark.'

No-Name scoffed. 'What do you think I lost? Have you been listening to Dumbledore too much? Humanity? Sympathy? Forgiveness? That's for the weak! The Dark Lord has shown me power! What matters next to that?'

Narcissa sidestepped another one of her son's Killing Curses. 'So many things, Draco,' she said. 'So many things that your father never understood, and it seems, despite everything that I've done, you never understood, either.'

'You do not insult my father!' No-Name snarled. 'My father was a great man who worked all his life to further the pure-bloods' cause! You betrayed my father! You have no right to speak of him!'

'Your father was a fool!' Narcissa cried. 'He never understood that times were changing, that the old and worn ways were bound to be replaced with the new! That one cannot blindly worship one's beliefs and never check in with reality! I tried to offer you a chance, Draco, but you were so engrossed in your father's rightness that you never bothered to consider that he might be wrong!'

'My father is never wrong!' No-Name shouted. 'You were the one who couldn't see reality besides what your blood-traitor sister and cousin showed you! You abandoned everything you knew and were taught to be true for a lie! You're a fool! Crucio!'

Neville watched as the red jet of light flew from Draco No-Name's wand towards his mother. Narcissa ducked out of the way, while Andromeda leapt at her sister at the same time to push her out of its path. Narcissa managed to clear the trajectory of the Cruciatus Curse, but her sister was not so lucky. As she tried to push Narcissa to safety, the red spell struck her right in the stomach. Neville's jaw dropped in a shriek of horror that never left his throat.

Andromeda screamed in pain, twitching on the ground under the curse. Next to him, Daphne burrowed her head into his shoulder, undoubtedly remembering what it was like when Dolohov had held her under the Unforgivable. Neville tore his eyes away from Andromeda's twitching form and looked up at No-Name. He was wearing a horrifying grin of satisfaction at the pain that he was causing his aunt and showed no sign of wanting to let up.

Neville did not even realize that he had stood up, nor that his wand was in his hand and pointing directly at No-Name's chest. He took a moment to debate what curse he would use, what would be the most fitting punishment for the monster that had nearly raped his girlfriend, had murdered perhaps dozens of people, who now was using the worst of the Unforgivables on his own family…

Before Neville could cast the Organ-Liquefaction Curse, however, Narcissa had jumped into action. On her face was a look that flitted between pure hatred, agony, and sorrow. Her wand was levelled at her son, who was too busy relishing in the torture of his aunt to notice. Neville knew what would happen a split-second before it did.

'Confringo!' Narcissa yelled. Her voice was breaking – out of which emotion, Neville did not know and could not guess. 'Confringo! Confringo!'

It all happened in slow motion. No-Name realized nothing until it was too late. By the time he turned his eyes away from Andromeda's spasming body, he had long exhausted his window of opportunity for getting out of the way. No-Name watched with a horrified, helpless look on his face as three Blasting Curses flew directly at him.

Neville wanted to avert his eyes, but he could not. There were three loud explosions as the Blasting Curses hit their mark. The first curse landed directly in front of No-Name and kicked up a huge cloud of shrapnel. He screamed in pain as the shards of tiling, rock, and glass peppered his body. The second and third Curses hit on either side of him. More screams of pain.

'Confringo!' Narcissa croaked. 'Confringo!'

The fourth Blasting Curse impacted Draco No-Name right in the chest. Neville barely saw its effect before the fifth Curse hit the Death Eater once more in the chest. The blood and dust were creating a truly morbid fog, and Neville was having trouble seeing what was happening. It was not like he particularly wanted to in any case.

When the dust cleared, Draco No-Name was all but gone. All that was left of him were a pile of bloody robes, severed limbs, and unrecognizable flesh and entrails.

Narcissa collapsed onto the floor and began to cry.


Then, a figure turned the corner into the mouth of the corridor. The grey-skinned, dull-red-eyed figure saw Harry, cackled, and raised his wand.

Harry's first instinct was to shove Hermione back into the safety of the alcove. His next instinct was to roll away from the patch of floor onto which he had thrown himself to avoid the explosion. He was not a second too early. A split-second after he had rolled away, a bolt of green light exploded off the floor, on the exact spot where he had laid moments before.

Harry got onto his feet and readied his wand in one swift motion. He could see Voldemort's fatigue reflected in his dull red eyes, but that did not make him any less dangerous. Voldemort shot another Killing Curse in his direction, which Harry easily sidestepped. The slow speed of Voldemort's curses gave Harry a distinct advantage, he knew.

'Back for more, Tom?' Harry taunted as he sidestepped another one of Voldemort's spells. 'Haven't had enough the last time we met?'

Voldemort's red eyes flashed. 'You think you have power over me?'

'Tom, I don't need to think,' Harry retorted. 'I know.'

'Is that so, Potter?' Voldemort hissed. 'We'll be seeing who really has power over whom at the end of the day. Avada Kedavra!'

Harry once more sidestepped Voldemort's curse. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Hermione had joined the fight. He wanted to scream at her to get behind cover, but he knew she would not listen. Harry threw a chain of low-powered hexes and jinxes at Voldemort, forcing him to dodge around the attack, throwing off his concentration and tiring him out.

'How pathetic, Potter,' Voldemort sneered. 'Are those spells the best you can do?'

Harry and Hermione answered that question with another series of elementary spells. Voldemort had to jump around so quickly to avoid the onslaught that it looked almost like he was tap dancing. It would have looked funny, Harry thought, if he had not been facing a Dark Lord. Harry knew that though they were doing no damage, they were winning. It was something that Voldemort, so fixated on killing, did not understand. They were draining Voldemort's strength, while setting his temper on edge and possibly baiting him into making a mistake that would cost him the fight – and his life.

Harry and Hermione kept up their regime, occasionally interspersing their casting with more dangerous curses such as the Blasting Curse, Unforgivables, or one of the 'Terror Curses'. Voldemort was forced to continually dodge or conjure objects to shield him, rarely getting a chance to cast himself. Even when he did, his curses were weak enough that Harry and Hermione could easily sidestep them.

'This ends here, Potter!' Voldemort snarled. 'Avada Kedavra! Fiend-'

'Silencio!' Hermione shrieked, avoiding the Killing Curse and aiming at Voldemort. The last syllable of the Fiendfyre Curse never left Voldemort's lips, and instead of giant, flaming beasts, all that came out of his wand was a jet of flame which slammed into a side wall harmlessly.

Voldemort looked enraged as he undid the Silencing Charm. 'So you're Potter's little Mudblood slag,' Voldemort sneered. 'Where did you steal your magic from? It must've been a powerful pure-blood, seeing as – '

'Sectumsempra!' Harry shouted in rage. Voldemort was forced to interrupt his tirade against Hermione to avoid the curse. He did not avoid it completely, though, for Harry saw it tear a small gash on Voldemort's left arm.

Voldemort roared in a mixture of pain and fury. 'Protecting the honour of your Mudblood pet, Potter?' he snarled. 'Why bother, Potter? All she's good for is as a proud pure-blood's plaything for a few days.'

'There are powers that you know not, Tom,' Harry spat, the fury flaring in him out of affection for Hermione giving him a surge of energy. 'And that you were an idiot to ignore. Stupefy! Liquefacite! Sectumsempra! Avada Kedavra! Stupefy!'

Voldemort waved his wand, and with obvious effort, conjured a bronze shield, which took Harry's first four curses. The Killing Curse, however, shattered the shield, and Voldemort was forced to quickly cast a Shield Charm to deflect the last Stunning Spell.

Voldemort slashed his wand through the air and conjured a serpent with a body of black fire. Harry had never seen this curse before, but Hermione must have deduced that it was a variant of Fiendfyre. She was proven right. With a few slashes of her wand and mutters of the Counter-Curses, she dispatched the flaming serpent much more easily than Harry thought was possible. Voldemort's weakness was obviously showing here, too.

'That was weak, Tom,' Harry sniped, Hermione's success giving Harry a feeling of undefeatable confidence.

'I'd like to see you do better,' Voldemort sneered. 'Or perhaps your whore?'

'Avada Kedavra,' Harry growled his response. Voldemort stepped aside, but another surge of energy coursed through Harry. He sent a sequence of spells at Voldemort, but instead of the relatively harmless hexes, jinxes, and Stunners that he had been using before, he cast a sequence of Blasting, Killing, and 'Terror' Curses, any of which were guaranteed to kill if he managed to score a hit. It almost felt effortless to Harry to cast these curses. He felt like he was being powered solely by his love for Hermione, and that was more powerful than any Invigoration Draught.

Voldemort conjured a solid brick wall on the left side of the corridor and ducked behind it, avoiding the spells Harry had flung his way. A Reductor Curse from both Harry and Hermione, though, rendered the wall to dust, which nearly completely obscured Harry's sight of Voldemort. Then, suddenly, and far too late, Harry realized that they had made a mistake.

'Expulso!' Voldemort bellowed, evidently putting as much power as he could into the curse. Through the dust kicked up by the Reductor Curses, Harry could not see where the spell had come from, nor where it was heading. There was a sudden blast at Hermione's feet. A sudden flash of light. Hermione had a look of shock on her face as she was thrown backwards by the force of the explosion. She collapsed in a heap, unconscious.

Harry's first reaction was to run to Hermione to check on her. If she was dead…and it was his fault…he would kill himself to go and personally apologize to her on the 'next great adventure'. But Voldemort's cackling laughter brought him back to consciousness. He had to force himself to not run immediately to Hermione's side. As much as he loathed himself for it, there was no time to check on Hermione…even if…Harry refused to even consider the possibility.

'Concerned, Potter?' Voldemort laughed horribly. 'How weak. Just like Dumbledore, thinking that "love" was greater than magic. Well, Potter, we're about to prove that wrong, aren't we?'

'No, Tom, I think we're about to prove that right,' Harry growled through gritted teeth. He was so furious that he felt waves of raw power coming off him. His mind, though, was incredibly clear – clearer than it ever had been in his life – and he felt so energized and wide-awake that he might as well have swallowed the whole world's supply of coffee beans and tea leaves both.

Without conscious thought, Harry had raised his wand. Voldemort's face turned from a satisfied smirk to a look of fear. Before it had even registered in his consciousness, Harry's wand had fallen three times, casting three Organ-Liquefaction Curses in sequence. Three sickly blue jets of light flew at Voldemort. Voldemort was forced to conjure two separate walls in front of him to intercept the curses, and even then, only barely.

'You've made a mistake, Tom,' Harry said quietly. 'What you think is my weakness isn't my weakness. It's yours.'

'I have no weakness!' Voldemort roared. 'I, the greatest sorcerer in the world, weak? I am immortal, Potter! You cannot kill me!'

'But I can,' Harry replied in the same quiet voice. 'Have you checked on a Ring recently, Tom? Or a Diary? A Locket? A Cup? What about a Diadem? And your snake? Do you miss her?'

Voldemort had a look of horror on his face as Harry listed off his Horcruxes. Harry saw that his wand even dropped a little. But he quickly schooled his features into a more ugly sneer than anything Harry had ever seen in his life.

'It matters not!' he shouted. 'You cannot kill me! You have not the power nor skill! And my followers? Even if I don't kill you today, your days are numbered! My Death Eaters – '

'Are all dead,' came a new voice. Harry and Voldemort both interrupted their verbal spar to turn towards the source of the sound. Walking towards them, wand in hand, was the figure of Severus Snape.

'Severus,' Voldemort said in surprise. 'I believe I ordered you to stay at Hogwarts.'

'So you did,' Snape replied silkily.

'Then why are you here?' Voldemort demanded. 'Why did you disobey my command?'

'I am not your slave, Voldemort,' Snape sneered. 'You do not control me.'

'Have you changed your allegiance to Dumbledore?' Voldemort snarled. 'Is that what it is? You have turned your back on your master to align yourself with the lover of Mudbloods, champion of muggles, Albus Dumbledore?'

'I did not say that either,' Snape spat. 'I am my own man. I do not serve anyone. Not anymore.'

'You swore service to me! You bear the Dark Mark!' Voldemort bellowed. 'You cannot turn your back on me!'

'But I have,' Snape replied, a look of mingled pain and hatred coming across his sallow face as he looked at his former master. 'More than fourteen years ago. I turned against you to make up for what I had done, for passing the Prophecy that you now so desire on to you. I do not regret what I have done.'

Voldemort scowled in rage. 'Then why show your true colours now?'

'Because my way forward was unclear for many long years,' Snape said softly. 'But now, it is.'

'Out of all men, I did not expect you to be a traitor, Snape,' Voldemort hissed, raising his wand. 'The Malfoy boy was right, it seemed, despite all my doubts. No matter…those who turn their backs on me will pay. Crucio!'

Harry had expected this of Voldemort, and was ready for it. With one wave of his wand, he levitated the body of a dead Death Eater in front of Snape. The Cruciatus Curse slammed into the body and was absorbed, doing no damage.

'How…Potter! Avada Kedavra!'

Harry once more saw it coming, and easily avoided the Killing Curse. 'That's pathetic, Tom. Let me show you how it's done. Avada Kedavra!'

Voldemort could not get out of the way of Harry's curse in time and was forced to conjure another bronze shield to absorb it. With a loud, deep ringing sound, the curse bounced off the shield and slammed into a wall, but not before shattering the shield. Voldemort responded with a string of curses, but he could not keep up his attack for long, for he was now under pressure from two opposing directions. Barely had he blocked one of Harry's Organ-Liquefaction curses with a conjured wall before he had to sidestep two curses from Snape.

Harry could see that Voldemort was clearly struggling, but he knew that he could not let his guard down, not get arrogant and begin casting spells at random. Even magically weakened, distracted, and outnumbered, Voldemort had proven himself to be a difficult opponent.

'Sectumsempra!' Harry and Snape shouted in near unison. Two invisible blades shot towards Voldemort from perpendicular directions. Voldemort was forced to hit the floor and allow the two curses to fly over his heads. They intersected a metre behind Voldemort, creating a shower of brilliant sparks as they hit one another.

Voldemort conjured another barrier, temporarily blocking him from Harry's and Snape's view as he got back on his feet. Harry, knowing better this time, did not attempt to destroy the barrier with a Reductor Curse, but instead transfigured it into a quill, exposing Voldemort once more without the vision-impairing dust cloud that Reducto would have created.

'Confringo!' Harry cast, aiming at Voldemort's head, trying to take advantage of Voldemort's momentary distraction to land a final blow. It almost worked, but Voldemort managed to react just in the nick of time, deploying a Shield Charm and deflecting the Blasting Curse away from him.

There was an explosion. Harry heard Snape give a grunt to his right. He turned his eyes to look for one split-second. Harry's deflected Blasting Curse had hit the ground to Snape's left and had thrown him into the opposite wall. The Potions Master slid down the wall and collapsed, unconscious.

Voldemort turned back to Harry with a leering grin. 'The traitor's out of the fight, Potter,' Voldemort hissed, relishing in what he must have thought was imminent victory. 'It's only us left, Potter. Are you ready to face your fate?'

'I am,' Harry replied, steel in his voice. 'I'm ready to end you once and for all.'

Voldemort roared in rage and slashed with his wand, beginning the battle once more. This time, there were no holds barred. Harry no longer attempted to use anything short of lethal curses, and neither did Voldemort, it seemed. He did not attempt any fanciful attacks but stuck to simpler, straightforward dark spells. Green, blue, and red jets of light were flying in both directions, slamming into walls after missing their marks or alternatively hitting conjured or summoned objects and being absorbed. Voldemort's movements may have been slower and his casting may have been weaker, but he was still more than capable of defending himself against Harry's attacks and fighting back viciously now that the odds were once again even.

The battle seemed to go on for an eternity, but Harry was not growing tired. Burned into his mind were images of Hermione, and they seemed to give him an inexhaustible supply of magic and stamina. As Voldemort's casting began to slow down even more, Harry only sped up, feeling more and more alert as the fight went on. Occasionally, he would catch a glance of Hermione's still-unconscious form, lying further down the corridor, and feel a new surge of power come across him.

'That is enough!' Voldemort shouted suddenly, ceasing his attack. Harry was startled enough that he, too, against his better judgement, interrupted his own casting.

'You may be stronger than I thought, but you are still a fool!' Voldemort sneered. 'You are a fool who loves, who cares! I will still easily defeat you! You are weak, you are vulnerable, and you will be broken!'

And to Harry's horror, he turned his wand towards Hermione's body, still lying where it crumpled on the ground. 'Say goodbye to your Mudblood, Potter. Avada – '

Harry's wand hand shot up without prompting. It was as if the wand itself was reacting to Voldemort uttering the Killing Curse against a defenceless Hermione. He could feel untamed magic radiating off the core, bleeding through the wood and into Harry's hand and body. The core, Harry realized at once. The strand of Hermione's hair in his wand was reacting to her being in danger.

Harry did not know how he knew what to do, but he slashed his wand again and again, bringing it down a total of seven times. He felt all his magic and power erupt, not only through his wand, but out of every pore on his body. Without uttering a single word, a jet of green light left Harry's wand tip, then another. Voldemort tried to dodge, only just managing to get out of the way of the curse.

Harry slashed his wand again. Voldemort conjured yet another bronze shield, but it was immediately smashed by a fourth Killing Curse. He brought his wand up to conjure another, but he never made it.

A green jet of light struck Voldemort in the stomach. Another one hit him in the neck half a second later. This was followed by a third, impacting his wand arm.

As if in slow-motion, Voldemort's dull red eyes rolled back into his head. His right hand relinquished its grip on his wand and the piece of wood dropped to the floor. Judging by the look on his face, Tom Riddle had not even realized what had happened as he began falling backwards, already dead, before hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Harry walked up to Voldemort and picked up his wand. The piece of wood felt filthy in his hand. With relish, he brought it down over his knee and snapped it in half. He pointed his wand at the dead Voldemort's neck and muttered, 'Sectumsempra.'

He carefully traced his wand tip over Voldemort's throat, opening a deep gash. Deep red, almost black blood began pouring out of the wound and flowed out onto the tiled floor, marking the finality of death. Voldemort, who had gone to such lengths to prevent his own death, was, in the end, killed like the twisted human he was.

Harry did not waste a second before sprinting to Hermione. He flipped her over onto his back. Her eyes were closed, and there was a cut on her cheek that was bleeding slightly. Otherwise, her face was completely devoid of colour. Harry desperately felt for a pulse, hoping and praying that she was still alive.

And he found it at the base of her neck. Despite everything, her heart was still beating, she was still alive. She was going to be fine…he was sure she would. His Hermione was strong. She could pull through anything.

Harry lifted her off the floor and looped one of her limp arms around his neck. She was going to be okay, he told himself as he tore up the corridor as fast as he could, muttering a half-hearted apology as he passed Snape, still knocked out on the floor. He dashed into the Atrium, wand ready to curse any Death Eaters still alive, but found none.

He charged across the atrium to the central corridor where a majority of the Ministry's wizards and Death Eaters had disappeared into. That was his best bet for finding help, Harry thought. The floor was covered in the dead bodies of Death Eaters and the occasional Auror, Hit-Wizard, or Unspeakable. It made traversing the corridor difficult, but he cleared his way forward with his wand. He felt slightly guilty that he was disrespecting the bodies of the Ministry's fallen, but Hermione was more important.

Up ahead, Harry saw a big group of gathered wizards and witches. To his immense relief, he saw lime-green robed Healers among them. He sprinted the rest of the way, pushing several surprised Hit-Wizards out of the way.

'I need a Healer!' he shouted. Aurors, Hit-Wizards, and Unspeakables parted as they saw him. A witch in lime-green robes came up to him.

'Mister Potter, what has happened?' the Healer demanded.

'What does it look like? Hermione is hurt. Help, please!'

The Healer nodded and gestured at an empty spot for Harry to set Hermione down. The Healer waved her wand over her prone form, and several lights lit up over her. The Healer took out a pad of parchment and a quill and began taking notes.

After several exhausting minutes – or perhaps only seconds – the Healer turned back to Harry.

'Two broken ribs, a broken arm, punctured left lung,' she said. 'Not difficult to fix. She'll be fine.'

'Then fix her!' Harry cried, able to think of nothing else besides Hermione.

The Healer nodded and got to work. Harry stood silently besides Hermione as the Healer worked on her. After many long moments, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Harry turned around to find Neville standing there, Sirius a few steps behind him with Amelia and Kingsley.

'She's okay?' Neville asked softly.

Harry nodded. 'The Healer says she'll…she'll be fine,' he panted, trying to calm himself. 'Minor…well…major injuries…but easy to fix magically.'

Neville nodded. 'Ginny was hit by a curse. Luna was thrown across the corridor by some sort of explosion. They'll be fine, though, the Healers say. Everyone else was mostly okay. Anyone we know hurt where you were?'

That reminded Harry of Snape. 'We need another Healer,' he shouted. 'Left side corridor when you come out of this one. Severus Snape is there. He was knocked unconscious trying to fight Voldemort.'

Two Healers rushed off. That proclamation had brought the conversation back to the topic of the battle.

'What happened to Voldemort?' Amelia asked.

'Dead,' Harry replied. He had little desire to go into exactly what had happened. 'I killed him.'

All was silent for several seconds while the news sank in, then the cheers erupted. Aurors, Hit-Wizards, Unspeakables, and Healers were hugging each other in celebration. Harry, though, had little desire to revel. Not while Hermione was still unconscious and hurt. Neville, for his part, seemed to have caught on, and was shielding Harry from the attention.

The celebration was brought to a sudden stop by the loud sound of a Floo activating in the Atrium. Heads turned. Through the gaps between the witches and wizards, Harry could see Albus Dumbledore step out of the Floo and into the Atrium.


A/N: Voldemort could put up a better fight here than in the graveyard because he had gotten used to his new body and its many limitations.

And now onto the final battle.