Once back under the starry sky, Harry heaved Dumbledore on to the top of the nearest boulder and then to his feet. Sodden and shivering, Dumbledore's weight still upon him, Harry concentrated harder than he had ever done upon his destination: Hogsmeade. Closing his eyes, gripping Dumbledore's arm as tightly as he could, he stepped forwards into that feeling of horrible compression.
He knew it had worked before he opened his eyes: the smell of salt, the sea breeze had gone. He and Dumbledore were shivering and dripping in the middle of the dark High Street in Hogsmeade. For one horrible moment Harry's imagination showed him more Inferi creeping towards him around the sides of shops, but he blinked and saw that nothing was stirring; all was still, the darkness complete but for a few streetlamps and lit upper windows.
"We did it, Professor!" Harry whispered with difficulty; he suddenly realized that he had a searing stitch in his chest. "We did it! We got the Horcrux!"
Dumbledore staggered against him. For a moment, Harry thought that his inexpert Apparition had thrown Dumbledore off-balance; then he saw his face, paler and damper than ever in the distant light of a streetlamp.
"Sir, are you all right?"
"I've been better," said Dumbledore weakly, though the corners of his mouth twitched. "That potion… was no health drink…"
And to Harry's horror, Dumbledore sank on to the ground.
"Sir — it's okay, sir, you're going to be all right, don't worry -"
He looked around desperately for help, but there was nobody to be seen and all he could think was that he must somehow get Dumbledore quickly to the hospital wing.
"We need to get you up to the school, sir… Madam Pomfrey…"
"No," said Dumbledore. "It is… Professor Snape whom I need… but I do not think… I can walk very far just yet…"
"Right — sir, listen — I'm going to knock on a door, find a place you can stay — then I can run and get Madam —"
"Severus," said Dumbledore clearly. "I need Severus…"
"All right then, Snape — but I'm going to have to leave you for a moment so I can —"
Before Harry could make a move, however, he heard running footsteps. His heart leapt: somebody had seen, somebody knew they needed help — and looking around he saw Madam Rosmerta scurrying down the dark street towards them on high-heeled, fluffy slippers, wearing a silk dressing-gown embroidered with dragons.
"I saw you Apparate as I was pulling my bedroom curtains! Thank goodness, thank goodness, I couldn't think what to — but what's wrong with Albus?"
She came to a halt, panting, and stared down, wide-eyed, at Dumbledore.
"He's hurt," said Harry. "Madam Rosmerta, can he come into the Three Broomsticks while I go up to the school and get help for him?"
"You can't go up there alone! Don't you realize — haven't you seen —?"
"If you help me support him," said Harry, not listening to her, "I think we can get him inside —"
"What has happened?" asked Dumbledore. "Rosmerta, what's wrong?"
"The — the Dark Mark, Albus."
And she pointed into the sky, in the direction of Hogwarts. Harry turned and scowled.
There it was, hanging in the sky above the school: the blazing green skull with a serpent tongue, the mark Death Eaters left behind whenever they had entered a building… wherever they had murdered…
"When did it appear?" asked Dumbledore, and his hand clenched painfully upon Harry's shoulder as he struggled to his feet.
"Must have been minutes ago, it wasn't there when I put the cat out, but when I got upstairs —"
"We need to return to the castle at once," said Dumbledore. "Rosmerta," and though he staggered a little, he seemed wholly in command of the situation, "we need transport - brooms -"
"I've got a couple behind the bar," she said, looking very frightened. "Shall I run and fetch —?"
"No, Harry can do it."
Harry raised his wand at once.
"Accio Rosmerta's brooms." A second later they heard a loud bang as the front door of the pub burst open; two brooms had shot out into the street and were racing each other to Harry's side, where they stopped dead, quivering slightly, at waist height.
"Rosmerta, please send a message to the Ministry," said Dumbledore, as he mounted the broom nearest him. "It might be that nobody within Hogwarts has yet realized anything is wrong… Harry, put on your Invisibility Cloak."
Harry pulled his Cloak out of his pocket and threw it over himself before mounting his broom; Madam Rosmerta was already tottering back towards her pub as Harry and Dumbledore kicked off from the ground and rose up into the air. As they sped towards the castle, Harry glanced sideways at Dumbledore, ready to grab him should he fall, but the sight of the Dark Mark seemed to have acted upon Dumbledore like a stimulant: he was bent low over his broom, his eyes fixed upon the Mark, his long silver hair and beard flying behind him in the night air. And Harry, too, looked ahead at the skull, and thoughts raced. How long had they been away? Had the DA's luck run out by now? Was it one of them who had caused the Mark to be set over the school, or was it a member of the staff?
As they flew over the dark, twisting lane down which they had walked earlier, Harry heard, over the whistling of the night air in his ears, Dumbledore muttering in some strange language again. He thought he understood why as he felt his broom shudder for a moment when they flew over the boundary wall into the grounds: Dumbledore was undoing the enchantments he himself had set around the castle, so that they could enter at speed. The Dark Mark was glittering directly above the Astronomy Tower, the highest of the castle. Did that mean the death had occurred there?
Dumbledore had already crossed the crenellated ramparts and was dismounting; Harry landed next to him seconds later and looked around.
The ramparts were deserted. The door to the spiral staircase that led back into the castle was closed. There was no sign of a struggle, of a fight to the death, of a body.
"What does it mean?" Harry asked Dumbledore, looking up at the green skull with its serpent's tongue glinting evilly above them. "Is it the real Mark? Has someone definitely been — Professor?"
In the dim green glow from the Mark Harry saw Dumbledore clutching at his chest with his blackened hand.
"Go and wake Severus," said Dumbledore faintly but clearly. "Tell him what has happened and bring him to me. Do nothing else, speak to nobody else and do not remove your Cloak. I shall wait here."
"But —"
"You swore to obey me, Harry — go!"
Harry hurried over to the door leading to the spiral staircase, but his hand had only just closed upon the iron ring of the door when he heard running footsteps on the other side. He looked round at Dumbledore, who gestured to him to retreat. Harry backed away, drawing his wand as he did so.
The door burst open and somebody erupted through it and shouted: "Expelliarmus!"
Harry's body became instantly rigid and immobile, and he felt himself fall back against the Tower wall, propped like an unsteady statue, unable to move or speak. He could not understand how it had happened — Expelliarmus was not a Freezing Charm —
Then, by the light of the Mark, he saw Dumbledore's wand flying in an arc over the edge of the ramparts and understood… Dumbledore had wordlessly immobilized Harry, and the second he had taken to perform the spell had cost him the chance of defending himself. Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress. He merely looked across at his disarmer and said, "Good evening, Draco."
Malfoy stepped forwards, glancing around quickly to check that he and Dumbledore were alone.
His eyes fell upon the second broom.
"Who else is here?"
"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?"
Harry saw Malfoy's pale eyes shift back to Dumbledore in the greenish glare of the Mark.
"No," he said. "I've got back-up. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight."
"Well, well," said Dumbledore, as though Malfoy was showing him an ambitious homework project. "Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"
Harry began focusing on breaking out of Dumbledore's spell. He still held his wand and tried to perform a Finite on himself.
"Yeah," said Malfoy, who was panting. "Right under your nose and you never realized!"
"Ingenious," said Dumbledore. "Yet… forgive me… where are they now? You seem unsupported."
"They met some of your guard. They're having a fight down below. They won't be long… I came on ahead. I - I've got a job to do."
"Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy," said Dumbledore softly.
There was silence. Harry Broke free from the immobilizing spell and quickly silenced his shoes and staring at the two other occupants of the room. His ears straining to hear sounds of the Death Eaters' distant fight, and in front of him, Draco Malfoy did nothing but stare at Albus Dumbledore who, incredibly, smiled.
"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."
"How do you know?" said Malfoy at once.
He seemed to realize how childish the words had sounded; Harry saw him flush in the Mark's greenish light.
"You don't know what I'm capable of," said Malfoy more forcefully, "you don't know what I've done!"
"Oh, yes, I do," said Dumbledore mildly. "You almost killed Katie Bell and Professor Slughorn. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts… so feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it…"
"It has been in it!" said Malfoy vehemently. "I've been working on it all year, and tonight —"
Somewhere in the depths of the castle below Harry heard a muffled yell. Malfoy stiffened and glanced over his shoulder.
"Somebody is putting up a good fight," said Dumbledore conversationally. "But you were saying… yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school which, I admit, I thought impossible… how did you do it?"
But Malfoy said nothing: he was still listening to whatever was happening below and seemed almost paralyzed.
"Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone," suggested Dumbledore. "What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realized, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight, too. And after all, you don't really need help… I have no wand at the moment… I cannot defend myself."
Malfoy merely stared at him.
"I see," said Dumbledore kindly, when Malfoy neither moved nor spoke. "You are afraid to act until they join you."
"I'm not afraid!" snarled Malfoy, though he still made no move to hurt Dumbledore. "It's you who should be scared!"
"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe… so tell me, while we wait for your friends… how did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."
Malfoy looked as though he was fighting down the urge to shout, or to vomit. He gulped and took several deep breaths, glaring at Dumbledore, his wand pointing directly at the latter's heart. Then, as though he could not help himself, he said, "I had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one's used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year."
"Aaaah." Dumbledore's sigh was half a groan. He closed his eyes for a moment. "That was clever… there is a pair, I take it?"
"The other's in Borgin and Burkes," said Malfoy, "and they make a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the Cabinet was traveling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him… in the end he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realized what it meant — even Borgin didn't know — I was the one who realized there could be a way into Hogwarts through the Cabinets if I fixed the broken one."
"Very good," murmured Dumbledore. "So, the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burkes into the school to help you… a clever plan, a very clever plan… and, as you say, right under my nose…"
"Yeah," said Malfoy who, bizarrely, seemed to draw courage and comfort from Dumbledore's praise. "Yeah, it was!"
"But there were times," Dumbledore went on, "weren't there, when you were not sure you would succeed in mending the Cabinet? And you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands… poisoning mead there was only the slightest chance I might drink…"
"Yeah, well, you still didn't realize who was behind that stuff, did you?" sneered Malfoy, as Dumbledore slid a little down the ramparts, the strength in his legs apparently fading, and Harry struggled fruitlessly, mutely, against the enchantment binding him.
"As a matter of fact, I did," said Dumbledore. "I was sure it was you."
"Why didn't you stop me, then?" Malfoy demanded.
"I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders —"
As Dumbledore and Malfoy argued about Snape's loyalties, Harry moved around the tower and placed himself by the door.
"Well, you're losing your grip, then!" sneered Malfoy. "He's been offering me plenty of help — wanting all the glory for himself — wanting a bit of the action — 'What are you doing? Did you do the necklace, that was stupid, it could have blown everything —' But I haven't told him what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement, he's going to wake up tomorrow and it'll all be over and he won't be the Dark Lord's favorite any more, he'll be nothing compared to me, nothing!"
"Very gratifying," said Dumbledore mildly. "We all like appreciation for our own hard work, of course… but you must have had an accomplice, all the same… someone in Hogsmeade, someone who was able to slip Katie the - the - aaaah"
Dumbledore closed his eyes again and nodded, as though he was about to fall asleep. "… of course… Rosmerta. How long has she been under the Imperius Curse?"
"Got there at last, have you?" Malfoy taunted.
There was another yell from below, rather louder than the last followed by what sounded like an explosion. Malfoy looked nervously over his shoulder again, then back at Dumbledore, who went on, "So poor Rosmerta was forced to lurk in her own bathroom and pass that necklace to any Hogwarts student who entered the room unaccompanied? And the poisoned mead… well, naturally, Rosmerta was able to poison it for you before she sent the bottle to Slughorn, believing that it was to be my Christmas present… yes, very neat… very neat… poor Mr. Filch would not, of course, think to check a bottle of Rosmerta's… tell me, how have you been communicating with Rosmerta? I thought we had all methods of communication in and out of the school monitored."
"Enchanted coins," said Malfoy, as though he was compelled to keep talking, though his wand hand was shaking badly. "I had one and she had the other and I could send her messages —"
"Isn't that the secret method of communication the group that called themselves Dumbledore's Army used last year?" asked Dumbledore. His voice was light and conversational, but Harry saw him slip an inch lower down the wall as he said it.
"Yeah, I got the idea from them," said Malfoy, with a twisted smile. "I got the idea of poisoning the mead from the Mudblood Granger, as well, I heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognizing potions…"
"Please do not use that offensive word in front of me," said Dumbledore. Malfoy gave a harsh laugh.
"You care about me saying 'Mudblood' when I'm about to kill you?"
"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore, and Harry saw his feet slide a little on the floor as he struggled to remain upright. "But as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now. We are quite alone. I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted…"
Malfoy's mouth contorted involuntarily, as though he had tasted something very bitter.
"Now, about tonight," Dumbledore went on, "I am a little puzzled about how it happened… you knew that I had left the school? But of course," he answered his own question, "Rosmerta saw me leaving, she tipped you off using your ingenious coins, I'm sure…"
"That's right," said Malfoy. "But she said you were just going for a drink, you'd be back…"
"Well, I certainly did have a drink… and I came back… after a fashion," mumbled Dumbledore.
"So you decided to spring a trap for me?"
"We decided to put the Dark Mark over the Tower and get you to hurry up here, to see who'd been killed," said Malfoy. "And it worked!"
"Well… yes and no…" said Dumbledore. "But am I to take it, then, that nobody has been murdered?"
"Someone's dead," said Malfoy and his voice seemed to go up an octave as he said it. "One of your people… I don't know who, it was dark… I stepped over the body… I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way…"
"Yes, they do that," said Dumbledore.
There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where Dumbledore, Malfoy and Harry stood, and Harry's heart thundered unheard in his invisible chest… someone was dead… Malfoy had stepped over the body… but who was it?
"There is little time, one way or another," said Dumbledore. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."
"My options!" said Malfoy loudly. "I'm standing here with a wand — I'm about to kill you —"
"My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."
"I haven't got any options!" said Malfoy, and he was suddenly as white as Dumbledore. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"
"I appreciate the difficulty of your position," said Dumbledore. "Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realized that I suspected you."
Malfoy winced at the sound of the name.
"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you," continued Dumbledore. "But now at last we can speak plainly to each other… no harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived… I can help you, Draco."
"No, you can't," said Malfoy, his wand hand shaking very badly indeed. "Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."
"Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban… when the time comes, we can protect him too… come over to the right side, Draco… you are not a killer…"
Malfoy stared at Dumbledore.
"But I got this far, didn't I?" he said slowly. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here… and you're in my power… I'm the one with the wand… you're at my mercy…"
"No, Draco," said Dumbledore quietly. "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."
Malfoy did not speak. His mouth was open, his wand hand still trembling. Harry thought he saw it drop by a fraction —
But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs and a second later Malfoy was buffeted out of the way as four people in black robes burst through the door on to the ramparts. It seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight below.
A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle.
"Dumbledore cornered!" he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly. "Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!"
"Good evening, Amycus," said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party.
"And you've brought Alecto too… charming…" The woman gave an angry little titter.
"Think your little jokes'll help you on your death bed, then?" she jeered.
"Jokes? No, no, these are manners," replied Dumbledore.
"Do it," said the stranger standing nearest to Harry, a big, rangy man with matted grey hair and whiskers, whose black Death Eater's robes looked uncomfortably tight. He had a voice like none that Harry had ever heard: a rasping bark of a voice. Harry could smell a powerful mixture of dirt, sweat and, unmistakably, of blood coming from him. His filthy hands had long yellowish nails.
"Is that you, Fenrir?" asked Dumbledore.
"That's right," rasped the other. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"
"No, I cannot say that I am…"
Fenrir Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely.
"But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore."
"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual… you have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"
"That's right," said Greyback. "Shocks you, that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"
"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little," said Dumbledore. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live…"
"I didn't," breathed Malfoy. He was not looking at Greyback; he did not seem to want to even glance at him. "I didn't know he was going to come —"
"I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore," rasped Greyback. "Not when there are throats to be ripped out… delicious, delicious…"
And he raised a yellow fingernail and picked at his front teeth, leering at Dumbledore.
"I could do you for afters, Dumbledore…"
"No," said the fourth Death Eater sharply. He had a heavy, brutal-looking face. "We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly."
Malfoy was showing less resolution than ever. He looked terrified as he stared into Dumbledore's face, which was even paler, and rather lower than usual, as he had slid so far down the rampart wall.
"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!" said the lopsided man, to the accompaniment of his sister's wheezing giggles. "Look at him — what's happened to you, then, Dumby?"
"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus," said Dumbledore. "Old age, in short… one day, perhaps, it will happen to you… if you are lucky…"
"What's that mean, then, what's that mean?" yelled the Death Eater, suddenly violent.
"Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing, I don't even know
why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yeh! Come on, Draco, do it!"
But at that moment, there were renewed sounds of scuffling from below and a voice shouted, "They've blocked the stairs - Reducto! REDUCTO!"
Harry's heart leapt; He recognized Neville's voice; so these four had not eliminated all opposition, but merely broken through the fight to the top of the Tower, and, by the sound of it, created a barrier behind them —
"Now, Draco, quickly!" said the brutal-faced man angrily.
But Malfoy's hand was shaking so badly that he could barely aim.
"I'll do it," snarled Greyback, moving towards Dumbledore with his hands outstretched, his teeth bared.
"I said no!" shouted the brutal-faced man; there was a flash of light and the werewolf was blasted out of the way; he hit the wall and staggered, looking furious. He growled animalistically and paced like a caged wolf. He swiped at the wall and his nails gouged tracks into the hard rock. He decided to go back and join the fight downstairs and the door slammed loudly behind him.
"Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us —" screeched the woman, but at that precise moment the door to the ramparts burst open once more and there stood Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, to the three Death Eaters, and Malfoy.
"We've got a problem, Snape," said the lumpy Amycus, whose eyes and wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, "the boy doesn't seem able —"
But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly.
"Severus…" The sound surprised Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forwards and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. Harry suddenly realized this was Dumbledore's plan all along. Both of them had been working towards the same goals. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.
"Severus… please…"
Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Harry burst into action as Dumbledore was blasted into the air: for a split second he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backwards, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight. Harry meanwhile, launched powerful Reductos into the chests of the three Death Eaters. Fist sized holes were unceremoniously punched into the backs and came out through the front. The blood spattered around the room and chunks of ribs and flesh hit Draco in the face, stunning him momentarily.
This momentary hesitation cost him and he was literally disarmed at the elbow of his wand hand. Before the follow-up reductor could hit him in the chest, Snape stepped in with a shield. He cast a flame curse at Malfoy's arm and cauterized the wound.
"Out of here, quickly," said Snape as he began throwing spells at the door. Harry was forced to shield as the assault was sudden and unexpected. The tower was narrow and there was very little space to maneuver. Harry blew open the door behind him and moved towards the side after dropping his shield. Making it look like he had retreated. Snape levitated an unconscious Draco behind him, who had passed out from the cauterization. Harry did not dare move in order to give his position away. As soon as Snape cleared the frame of the door, Harry aimed a Piercing spell straight at Malfoy's head. The spell was on the tip of his tongue when he remembered he needed Malfoy to take his message to Voldemort.
He resisted the temptation and as soon as they were out of sight, he shook off the cloak and ran down the darkened staircase and leapt the last ten steps of the spiral staircase. He stopped where he landed with his wand raised; the dimly lit corridor was full of dust; half the ceiling seemed to have fallen in; and a battle was raging before him, but even as he attempted to make out who were fighting whom, he heard the hated voice shout, "It's over, time to go!" and saw Snape disappearing around the corner at the far end of the corridor; he and Malfoy seemed to have forced their way through the fight unscathed. As Harry plunged after them, one of the fighters detached themselves from the fray and flew at him: it was the werewolf, Fenrir.
He was on top of Harry before Harry could raise his wand: Harry fell backward, with filthy matted hair in his face, the stench of sweat and blood filling his nose and mouth, hot greedy breath at his throat —
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Harry felt Fenrir collapse against him; with a stupendous effort he pushed the werewolf off and onto the floor as a jet of green light came flying toward him. The cursed sailed above his head as he rolled and summoned the fragments of wood that littered the floor and transfigured them into silver needles and sent them shooting into Greyback. The first-year transfiguration spell seemed to work and the werewolf let loose and unholy howl as his skin was perforated by tiny needles. Harry got his feet under him and ran, headfirst, into the fight. His feet met something squashy and slippery on the floor and he stumbled: There were two bodies lying there, lying face down in a pool of blood, but there was no time to investigate.
He saw Neville, Ron, Professor McGonagall, and Lupin, each of whom was battling a separate Death Eater. Beyond them, Harry saw Tonks fighting an enormous blond wizard who was sending curses flying in all directions, so that they ricocheted off the walls around them, cracking stone, shattering the nearest window —
"Harry, where did you come from?" Ginny cried, but there was no time to answer her. He put his head down and sprinted forward, narrowly avoiding a blast that erupted over his head, showering them all in bits of wall. He could not let the Death Eaters escape—
"Take that!" shouted Professor McGonagall, and Harry glimpsed a pair of unnamed Death Eaters retreating, almost sprinting away down the corridor with their arms over their head. He launched himself after them and summoned the shoes from the fleeing Death Eaters. Not expecting such a tactic, they unceremoniously fell face first into the floor.
"Percuto! Percuto! Reducto! Reducto!" Harry shouted and killed them instantly with direct hits to the chest and head respectively. Neville and Lupin quickly moved to reinforce the enormous blonde Death Eater who was causing most of the chaos. The man gave a howl of pain as the spell hit him in the face; He promptly wheeled around, staggered, and then pounded away as he took off after Snape. Neville however screamed, "Oh no, you don't! Deprimo!"
The spell used to blast holes into the ground raced after the man and hit him straight in the middle of his giant back. His chest promptly exploded as his remains immediately coated the hallways. Harry slipped on the blood as he ran but quickly went into a full sprint. He could hear the pounding of feet as Neville ran to catch up to him.
He skidded around the corner; his trainers slippery with blood; Snape had an immense head start. Was it possible that he had already entered the cabinet in the Room of Requirement, or had the DA made steps to secure it, to prevent the Death Eaters retreating that way? He could hear nothing but his own pounding feet, his own hammering heart as he sprinted along the next empty corridor, but then spotted a bloody footprint that showed at least one of the fleeing Death Eaters was heading toward the front doors — perhaps the Room of Requirement was indeed blocked —
He skidded around another corner and a curse flew past him; he dived behind a suit of armor that exploded. He took a quick peek around the corner and yelled, "It's me, Harry"
"Prove it!" Susan yelled from the other side of the wall.
"Ernie is a nincompoop!"
"Clear!" Susan yelled as Ernie gave a weak 'Hey' of outrage. Harry and Neville quickly rounded the corner only to see Susan step out from behind the statue covered in blood and dust. Behind her, half of the DA was peeking out from behind suits of armor and Hannah ran to hug Neville.
"Did any one of them get out?" Harry asked.
"Just Snape and Malfoy. The rest of them were cut down before they could follow. The other half of the DA is holding down the passageway to the Room of Requirement."
"Okay. Everyone to the Hospital wing. No body talk to any adult till we all get there. Okay?"
Everyone agreed and moved quickly to the Hospital wing. McGonagall and Lupin came around the corner only to see Neville, Susan and Harry standing over the bodies of five Death Eaters and their limbs. Some members of the DA had chosen to aim cutters instead of Reductos.
"Potter! What —"
"Snape killed Dumbledore."
Professor McGonagall's jaw dropped open and Remus paled as if he were a ghost. "Wha — no."
Harry didn't say a word and began walking to the main doors. Susan, Neville, Lupin and McGonagall all began following. Harry pointed a wand at his throat and spoke loudly as his voice reverberated around the castle. "This is Harry Potter speaking. Death Eaters infiltrated the Castle tonight with the help of Draco Malfoy. All the Death Eaters were killed during their assault. Snape and Malfoy have fled the castle like the cowards that they are. The castle is safe. Any injured person you see, help them reach the Hospital wing as quickly as possible."
Harry finished speaking as he reached the giant oaken front doors. They were already open, but just wide enough for a person to slip through. He opened them with an angry swish of his wand and they swung open with a crash. The loud sound was heard through out the castle that had suddenly gone silent. Slowly, uncertainly, dressing-gowned people were creeping down the steps, looking around nervously for some sign of the Death Eaters but seemingly relaxed at seeing Harry Potter. However, the sight of blood and gore coating Harry and Neville soon registered and some people retched. The group slowly grew in size as Harry approached the foot of the tallest tower.
He imagined that he could see a black, huddled mass lying in the grass there, though he was really too far away to see anything of the sort. Even as he stared wordlessly at the place where he thought Dumbledore's body must lie. Harry heard McGonagall's moan of pain and shock, but he did not stop; he walked slowly forward until he reached the place where Dumbledore lay and crouched down beside him. He had known there was no hope from the moment that the full Body-Bind Curse Dumbledore had placed upon him. In that moment, Harry knew Dumbledore planned to die.
He must have arranged it with Snape. That is why he prevented Harry from interfering. He probably expected Snape and Malfoy to escape with the Death Eaters with the Order putting up some form of fight. Neither Malfoy, Snape nor Dumbledore had expected Harry to set up a defense using the DA or for their methods to be so brutal. Harry couldn't help but grudgingly respect Dumbledore for setting up his death in such a fashion.
Despite Harry knowing Dumbledore was dying since term began, there was still no preparation for seeing him here, spread-eagled, broken: the greatest wizard Harry had ever, or would ever, meet. Dumbledore's eyes were closed; but for the strange angle of his arms and legs, he might have been sleeping. Harry reached out, straightened the half-moon spectacles upon the crooked nose, and wiped a trickle of blood from the mouth with his own sleeve. Then he gazed down at the wise old face and tried to absorb the enormous and incomprehensible truth: that never again would Dumbledore speak to him, never again could he help …
The crowd murmured behind Harry. After what seemed like a long time, he became aware that he was kneeling upon something hard and looked down. The locket they had managed to steal so many hours before had fallen out of Dumbledore's pocket. It had opened, perhaps due to the force with which it hit the ground. And although he could not feel more shock or horror or sadness than he felt already, Harry knew, as he picked it up, that there was something wrong …
He turned the locket over in his hands. This was neither as large as the locket he remembered seeing, nor were there any markings upon it, no sign of the ornate S that was supposed to be Slytherins mark. Moreover, there was nothing inside but for a scrap of folded parchment wedged tightly into the place where a portrait should have been. Automatically, without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry pulled out the fragment of parchment, opened it, and read by the light of the many wands that had now been lit behind him:
To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who
discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.
Harry neither knew nor cared what the message meant. Only one thing mattered: This was not a Horcrux. Dumbledore had weakened himself by drinking that terrible potion for nothing. Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand, and his eyes burned with tears as behind him Fang began to howl. A great man had died tonight. And the whole world was just a bit dimmer for it.
