A/N: This is JK's sandbox and I'm building a Sandcastle with my bare hands.

A Wake Up Call

Prelude

"Well done Ha-"

But the Deatheater she had just struck dumb made a slashing movement with his wand; a streak of purple flame hit her right over her chest. She gave a tiny "Oh." Of surprise, then crumpled, where she lay motionless.

It was strange how it had all happened within the blink of an eye, yet he saw it happen in slow motion, powerless to stop it. The most he could do was painfully drop to his knees beside her, he fumbled for a pulse, and found a feeble one. The earlier fight, forgotten.

Something flared deep within himself.

The Deatheater, (who he now recognised as Antonin Dolohov) wordlessly gestured to the Prophecy in his hand, then to her. The meaning was plain to him: 'Give it to me, or you get the same.'

After making sure Hermione was still alive, he rose to his feet, looking Dolohov straight in the eye. It all equated in his mind; if he wasn't there to protect her, who would be. With a stiff nod, and to Neville's obvious shock, he rolled the glass ball towards his opponent.

Just as he did, many things happened at once. The Deatheater whose head was stuck in the jar staggered through the door, distracting Dolohov. Neville roared and launched forwards to grab the Prophecy, and was banished across the room in return. Just as Harry dodged a flying Neville, the bowl-clad Deatheater was hit by an Impediment Jinx from somewhere in the next room.

Jumping at the chance to take the further distracted Dolohov, Harry slashed his wand "Diffindo!"

Hearing the spoken Incantation, Dolohov deflected it aside towards the doorway. Just as a punch-drunk looking Ron Weasley stumbled through it. "I got him Harree-" was all anyone heard as the deflected curse hit him between the neck and right collarbone, leaving a deep cut. The force of the curse propelled him into the room he'd come from, and a scream was heard from the same room not a second later.

Dolohov only smirked and bent to pick up the still rolling Prophecy...

Shock at what had happened was ringing in his ears, until he saw the smirk. Then something else snapped deep inside the depths of his psyche. The feeling rivalled the speed of which he bought his wand to bear, "REDUCTO!" The spell soared over the man's back, but hit the wall behind him. Blasting him into the middle of the room, Harry ran over before Dolohov could raise his wand.

Transferring his wand to his left hand he lashed out at the face of the Deatheater, the same way Dudley and his gang would lash out at him if he was unfortunate enough. He didn't realise how bloody he was getting, nor just how mangled Dolohov's face was until a hand grasped his shoulder.

"Harry!" Neville appeared in his vision, thrusting a glass orb into his hand. "We have to get help! They're coming."

He rose shakily to his feet, his vision red tinged. "Ginny? Luna?"

Neville led him past a still motionless Hermione over to the doorway. "I think I heard them in here."

With a last worried glance at Hermione, he followed the other boy into the next room. What they found, Harry would never forget.

Ron lay sprawled upon the ground, giggling feebly as Ginny desperately tried to staunch the bleeding that had already coated her hands in crimson. Luna gave Ron the occasional glance but most of her attention was towards the only other door in the room. Neville left a shocked Harry in the doorway and put his arms around the frantic redhead. "Get off me Neville! Help me!" She screamed at him but Neville held on.

They all knew he was dying and that there was nothing they could do to stop it. Only three of the group had accepted that so far. Even Harry, still rooted to the spot in shock, knew Ron's time on this world was up.

And he'd cast the curse that did it.

So he simply stood and watched as the second friend he'd ever made in his life, died before him, the flow of blood from the cut had slowed and the giggles lessened with each second until they were all but gone. He watched as the light left Ron Weasley's eyes for the last time, with Ginny cursing and yelling his name in a way that echoed around the room.

The scream must've been loud enough to draw the nearest Deatheaters as a crash was heard against the door Luna was watching.

Harry shouted at them to run, Neville tried to drag Ginny away but she fought him off just as the door was breached. He watched in shock as Luna's spell hit the figure before he could defend himself and was subsequently hoisted into the air by his ankle. His disbelief was further heightened by what happened next.

Luna had already turned towards him as Ginny brought her wand to bear. "REDUCTO!" The Deatheater turned mostly into a bloody liquid that coated the door and walls behind him.

He didn't spare a moment to be disgusted as his brain re-engaged and Neville regained his hold on Ginny and pushed her towards him. Harry Potter turned to lead them away, he'd already alerted the Order, all he had to do was survive without losing more friends and without Hermione dying from her injuries. His face fell into a snarl as he readied himself to do battle so that Ron wouldn't die in vain. I've already failed enough. No more.

...

-A Running Battle Later-

Harry couldn't quite believe the man in front of him. "You'll let them go? If I stay?"

They'd been cornered despite the new ferocity they had fought with, they'd been finally surrounded in the strangest room he'd ever seen. A feat considering the other rooms they'd visited trying to escape the Department. Upon a rough stone dias was an ancient looking archway, the shimmering grey that hung inside the arch whispered to him constantly. But he couldn't let it distract him now, as he had more pressing matters to deal with. The four of them faced off against a number of Deatheaters, he only had eyes for the blonde leader though.

"Of course," Lucius spread his hands magnanimously. "Who else will spread rumours that the Deatheaters have once again risen. And are more powerful than ever." He crooned with a sickening smirk upon his face. His compatriots snickered in response.

He turned to the three remaining. He wasn't about to waste this chance. "Take Hermione and leave."

Neville did as asked immediately, his glare rarely leaving Bellatrix's gloating form. Ginny looked ready to argue if it weren't for an elbow from Luna, the blonde gave him a considerate look, which turned into a smile and nod. After a couple of tense minutes, Neville re-joined them, and they took up guard on either side, keeping an eye on the cloaked ones the whole way to the door.

Seconds felt like years as the group slowly made their way to the door opposite the one they'd entered. Only once the door closed with a solid snick, did he relax. Well, relax as much as one could when outnumbered by what looked like ten-to-one. There he stood, his glasses spattered with blood, his knuckles beaten, a wand in the right hand and the Prophecy in the left. His mind whirring with random thoughts, most of them concerned how to stall them. The Order would come. It was all he had left.

He stared directly at Lucius. "Why does he want me dead?"

The man's chuckle was laced with superiority. "Well, I assume, for not dying when asked to. That alone would irritate my lord."

Harry snorted, dying was no longer of major consequence. "I mean originally."

The man in front of him smiled. "Ah, a very poignant question Harry. Considering the answer is in your left hand."

He raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and a sleeve to wipe the blood off his glasses. "What? So somebody says something so that must be true?"

Lucius sighed. "It is a shame you weren't brought up in the proper way. Then you would not be ignorant of such things."

"I didn't really have a choice." Harry spat.

Lucius waved a hand, his charisma belaying incredulity of the situation. Harry was having a calm conversation with a man that had tried to kill him in his second year. "No, I suppose that's true. But Dumbledore must be slipping, you are so unprepared for what you've been tasked with. And tonight, you'll pay for it. So will you make this difficult for everyone, or will you die with dignity?"

"Dignity?" He said incredulously. "Giving up?"

"Not giving up, Harry. Merely realising that you are beaten, utterly. You have fought, fought well for someone your age, and you will die with honour. Most do not get this chance." Lucius spread his arms, gesturing at his situation.

He weighed his options, if he threw the orb at the ground. One of them may be quick enough to levitate it to safety. If he ran, he would be dropped with a fifty-fifty chance of smashing it. If he attacked, the numbers would quickly incapacitate him in a way that he couldn't drop the orb. Or he could give up, and accept death, knowing he got the ones who survived to safety.

A vision of Hermione being struck down, followed by what his own deflected curse had done to one of his oldest friends flashed before his eyes. The revulsion he felt towards himself was justified in his opinion, he'd let them come after all. He desperately sought for some kind solace in the face of what he'd done.

Decision made, he lifted the orb. See you soon Mum, Dad. "It is yours, only if Bellatrix kills me." If he was to die, it would be at the hand of the best after all.

She cackled with a glee that sat juxtaposed by the surprised look upon Lucius's face. "As you wish Potty!"

With the exchange completed, Bellatrix stepped closer, her face bordering on the curious. He suppressed a chuckle at the childishness of Sirius's cousin, he'd heard enough about her to make him think she was the most skilled of those here. Someone worthy enough to die at the hands of, considering the other's present. She cackled again, and what Neville had told him about the fate of his parents made itself known to him.

But it was too late to back down now, for he'd already backed down. "Crucio!" She growled.

The pain, while excruciating and familiar, wasn't as bad as the curse under Voldemort. So with gritted teeth, he fought his spasming body. Thirty seconds later he dropped to his knees, unable to stand. He remained there, the knowledge that he would be seeing his parents again bolstered his resolve.

Then it stopped.

Surely death was about to envelop him now. He couldn't suppress the smile, despite the lingering pain.

Until a flare of light beside him caused him to look up, and what he saw shocked him. Sirius Black had come, dressed extravagantly and currently nose-to-nose with Bellatrix. Everyone simply stood and stared at his appearance, so what he did next, took everyone by surprise. "Get away from my godson." He snapped as he backhanded her across the face with his left hand. Before the smack could stir anyone to action, he cast an area banishing charm with his other hand. Pushing the Deatheaters back.

As they picked themselves up, more of the order arrived. Lupin, Tonks, Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in wisps of white smoke. They immediately threw spells at their adversaries, who replied in kind.

In the midst of the furore, Sirius squatted down next to Harry who had remained on his knees. "You've done beautifully, let us take it from here."

Harry felt himself tense at his godfather's consoling words. In fact, he was furious. Ron was dead, Hermione would be if she didn't receive the attention of a Healer. And after finally accepting his own demise, he was forced to live again, meeting his parents would have to wait, he'd lost his chance. And his voice shook with anger, something had obviously snapped, but he didn't realise it. "Fuck off." He snapped. "I'm putting them in the ground."

Sirius, shocked, didn't have time to reply as Lucius threw a spell in his direction, forcing him to divert his attention to deflect it.

Acting upon his rage, Harry pushed Sirius aside and threw a string of curses in return. As Lucius blocked most and stepped past the final one, an unkempt, unknown Deatheater fired a spell at Harry, which was blocked by Sirius who'd lunged across his body.

Thinking quickly, Harry threw a stunner at Lucius, then the Confringo Curse at the ground between the pair. All four of them were blasted back, but the Deatheaters got the worst of it, landing on the floor close to the wall.

Sirius moved over to him, face set. "You alright Ha-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET THEM!" Harry roared, ignoring his godfather as he picked himself up and hurried over to the edge of the Dias sending a fusillade of spells at the dark shapes. The Impediment hex and the rest of the jinx's he knew became distractions, he threw blasting and exploding curses almost exclusively. Blood thundered through his ears at the mix of fury and exertion.

Sirius said nothing and engaged the unkempt Deatheater next to Lucius. The sounds of battle filled the tiled room, pops, cracks, blasts of wind and crumbling masonry echoed almost painfully loud. Now that the Malfoy had the Prophecy, Harry concentrated on keeping him from escaping with it.

In the end, Harry became frustrated with his lack of success. "Crucio! Reducto!" He yelled in quick succession. Lucius jumped to the side of the Unforgivable, forcing him to deflect the blasting curse desperately. The deflected curse went sailing towards his partner just as Sirius sent a dark magenta coloured spell towards him. The Deatheater sidestepped Sirius's curse just as Harry's deflected one hit the wall behind him. It blasted them away at tremendous pace, throwing the man against one of the many rocks that dotted the Dias.

He didn't get up.

"Nice one James!" Cried Sirius just before he sent a flurry of spells back at Lucius.

Knowing they were outnumbered. He glanced around for any others they may be in trouble. Just then he saw Moody get hit in his good leg by what looked like a cutting curse, as he was facing Rodolphus and Nott. Harry rushed over, eyes darting around, looking for stray spells. On his way he saw Kingsley and Tonks duelling Bellatrix to a draw, none looked to be giving ground as their wands flashed in a blur. He also caught sight of Lupin taking on Macnair and Jugson, the Werewolf looked to be handling it well but he decided to intervene on his way. With nary a thought, he threw the same combo at Macnair who caught sight of the Torture Curse but moved into the Blasting Curse which effectively took his left leg off.

Remus didn't tear his gaze from his own duel but stunned Macnair as Harry moved on. Just as he reached Moody, he threw his new favourite combo at Rodolphus. Seeing it hit, Moody turned to him, his fake eye staring through the side of his head bizarrely towards his opponent. "Good one laddie. But we don't need the help, get the rest of your lot out of here." Moody spat before thrusting his staff forward, blowing the Deatheater off his feet.

Harry was about to snarl a scathing reply before he heard a scream of triumph. He turned to see Kingsley crumple to the ground, Tonks unconscious against the wall behind him, and watched Bellatrix hurry over to Lucius. He hastened to follow her, ducking under a violet spell as he did so. Just before he drew level with Sirius, she launched a very familiar green curse at his Godfather. Throwing all caution to the wind, Harry threw himself bodily at Sirius, sending them both sprawling as the green jet flew overhead.

Incensed, he looked up just in time to see Bellatrix take the orb and run toward the exit. Ignoring Sirius's yell, he darted towards the door in pursuit. She led him through the maze of rooms without a mis-step and beat him to the lifts, giving him no choice but to take a different one. The ride towards the surface felt mildly absurd with the dead quiet and the sensual voice that announced his destination. Once the doors opened, he saw she had a lead of about twenty feet on him. Infuriatingly, she sang childishly as she ran toward the Floo's like a gazelle in her heeled boots. "Your friends are dead Potter! You going to get me! You going to get me!?" She finished on a sarcastic note.

Forcibly reminded of Ron lying upon the floor with a deep gash in his neck and a puddle of blood around him, he saw red, his shout echoed throughout the Atrium. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

To his glee, the spell hit and she hit the floor. But to his fury, she remained alive and conscious. Curious at the cracking sound that she'd made, he peered at her closely from afar. Out of one of her pockets, a wispy blue-white smoke leaked unnoticed by her. He didn't have time to revel in his partial success as she started cackling. "Oooo, baby Potty does have some balls! Too bad they're too small to properly cast the curse!"

He heard a familiar shout from a darkened office behind him before he could reply. Be it a spell, or word. "Harry! Dumbledore's coming!"

"Aww look!" Bellatrix crooned before it turned to a cackle. "Some friends of yours that are still alive!" And to his horror, she lobbed a curse in the direction of the voice. All he could hear was an explosion, followed by multiple screams.

"You-." But what he was about to say died in his throat, as a skeletal figure alighted from a mass of green flames.

Voldemort had arrived.

All time seemed to freeze in place.

"Do it Harry." Came the strangled gasp of a voice into his ear. "She deserves it." Despite the cajoling, Harry didn't try it again. He had no idea why it didn't work, apart from probably being too young. That was one thing Barty Crouch Jr. had taught him about the Unforgivable Curses. The voice of Voldemort now carried over to him easily, no longer in his ear. "I will admit, Harry, you have the power. But none of the knowledge." He tutted, leering. "It's a shame really. To have such potential, only to have it squandered by the old fool."

The Tom Riddle of old reappeared for a moment, smiling sinisterly. "Imagine if you'd been taught properly from the start? Why, your friends would most likely have survived. Ah well, one less obstacle on the path to power."

His instincts screamed at him and he moved. But just as Voldemort raised his wand, a fireplace to his right and closer to Harry flared green. Dumbledore emerged from the flames, in faded blue robes, wand held loosely to his side, eyes fixed upon his former student. "It was a mistake to come here tonight Tom. The Auror's are on their way."

Voldemort sneered. "By which time I shall be gone. And you... shall be dead."

Each of the combatants pushed their protégés roughly aside. Bellatrix disappeared into the emerald flames, Harry merely behind one of the fireplaces as the two exceptional wizards did battle.

While he watched in wonder at the magic thrown about. Harry felt somewhat aggrieved that he was so powerless, so... Weak.

He really shouldn't have been so angry at the fact he was not one of the modern Merlin's of his time, considering he was barely fifteen. But for a boy who's whole life had been one fight or another, and at times, a fight to survive, power meant life. Pushing aside the hypocrisy of survival instincts and his willingness to die, he studied how the two titans of the Wizarding World fought. Until Voldemort invaded his mind.

It felt like forever.

Forcing Voldemort from his mind was up there with the Torture Curse in his opinion. Dumbledore would say it was love that drove him away. To him, it was similar, but very different at the same time. Various memories flashed before his eyes, even the worst ones involved his friends. Friends that were now dead, in fact he longed to join them, to apologise for his failures and to see his parents again. He'd felt Voldemort's revulsion at such an idea and felt him leave his head. Then his world turned to black.

...