Author's Notes: And now, I present to you all: The Chapter That Explains It All. Don't you love that chapter? There's always one in HP, therefore there's one in my story. It's also The Chapter That Shatters Any Theories And/Or Preconceptions You May Have Already Had.

This was also the chapter that, when I first wrote it, the letter b on my keyboard wasn't working. So I went to some random website, copied the letter b from someplace, every time I needed that letter I'd paste it into the word I needed it in.

You don't forget an ordeal like that. Damn keyboard.

***

Sick with shock and terror, Hermione couldn't voice any objections as long, thin cords burst out of Charles Griney's wand and wrapped themselves snugly around her.

"You…" Hermione whispered in utter astonishment. Slowly, an evil grin was spreading across Charles' handsome features. She could do nothing but gape at him as he checked the cords to make sure they were tight.

"Yes, me," Charles laughed. It was a harsh, cold laugh, nothing like the bumbling, good-natured one Hermione had come to know. "Surprised, darling?"

Hermione shivered as Charles ran one of his fingers up her bare arm; she had rolled the sleeves of her robe up during the mad dash before, and now goosebumps were appearing on the exposed skin. Charles laughed again, his breath tickling her ear and making her shudder. Her ex-boyfriend straightened and strolled over to the other side of the room, greedily sizing up Hermione with his eyes in a way that made her feel extremely uncomfortable. She squirmed viciously against her ropes.

But then something occurred to her, a faint hope - what if the shape-shifter had not yet shown their true form? It could not have been Charles; her naïve, good-natured ex-boyfriend wasn't capable of looking at her in that kind of way. Hermione suddenly felt extremely angry with the shape-shifter in front of her, feeling as if he had taken this form as some kind of cruel joke.

"Well, go on then," Hermione hissed, the red-hot fury coursing through her veins making her unnaturally bold. "Aren't you going to turn into Professor McGonagall now?" she asked in a cold, cynical tone. "Or maybe Dobby the house-elf, that would be rich…"

Charles raised a perfectly arched, blonde eyebrow, smiling slightly. "Getting cheeky, are you, sugar plum?" he snickered. "My, my, aren't we the feisty one…ah, but I know what you're thinking." He bent down in front of Hermione again, tilting her chin up slightly so that his eyes were boring right into hers. "You're thinking that the real Charles Griney would never do this to you. Petrify students, poison Dumbledore…oh no, dear old Charles isn't capable, is he?" Hermione felt that faint glimmer of hope die as Charles laughed again - that cold, grating laugh that was worse than nails on a chalkboard.

"Well," he said, "I've news for you, Hermione, dearest. You only knew the real Charles Griney for about a week. And as a boy at Hogwarts," he added, leering at her unpleasantly.

Hermione felt a strange, stinging sensation somewhere behind her eyes. She could only stare at the man before her, her lips slightly parted. "You're lying," she finally whispered.

"No," Charles answered pleasantly, "I disposed of the real Charles Griney last September. He was an extremely useful person, I must say. Though having to keep up that idiotic, sniveling personality of his became quite tiresome after awhile, I assure you." He rested his elbow on his knee, still bending down. "I couldn't understand," he whispered, reaching out his hand and brushing his thumb across Hermione's cheekbone, "what a brilliant, beautiful witch like yourself could possibly see in that idiot. I finally assumed that you were in it for his money, so I was forced to keep up the Charles façade for the sake of those around us who had known the fool. It hurt me, though, Hermione; it hurt every time you looked at me with that exasperated look, or that annoyed expression. I longed to drop the act, to kiss you as I wanted to…but I had spent so much time planning…I couldn't jeopardize it, even for you."

Hermione could taste bile rising to her throat. She felt physically sick, and used all her willpower to keep from gagging as the horrible truth hit her. She had hardly known the real Charles; instead, she had been dating a sick madman that had likely killed the real Mr. Griney, and who was currently bent on murdering Albus Dumbledore. Hermione didn't even attempt to struggle as the Charles imposter continued to stroke her face with his cold fingers. She was too absorbed in the loathing consuming her. True, she didn't understand what the shape-shifter's motives were, or even who the shape-shifter really was - but something was becoming painfully obvious. For the better part of a year and a half, this man had used her. All fear was erased from Hermione's mind as she concentrated instead on the anger, the absolute fury, washing over her. Perhaps her hot temper - something that she suspected she had only developed after years of bickering with Ron - would come in handy after all. It was certainly making her mind perfectly clear right now.


"Who are you?" Hermione demanded in a low hiss, seething with rage.

"Oh, I believe you've heard of me," 'Charles' answered lightly, slowly rising to his feet again. "But enough small talk, sweetheart. I believe we're about to get company."

Hermione's heart leapt as she heard the same sound the imposter had already picked up. "Ron!" she tried to scream, but nothing came out. She realized with a start that 'Charles' had his wand pointed at her, and that her lips seemed to have been cemented together.

"Shh," the shape-shifter said softly, putting a finger to his lips and flashing a sickening smile. He turned to face the entrance, his wand still pointed at Hermione, and Hermione's wand pointed in the direction of Ron's increasingly loud footsteps. Hermione's eyes grew wide, and she struggled violently against the cords binding her.

Then, suddenly, the footsteps stopped. The imposter furrowed his eyebrows, both wands still pointed and ready. He stiffened as, after a small pop, 'Charles' felt a wand being jabbed rather roughly into the back of his neck.

"I don't know what the hell is going on here," Ron said quietly, though his voice was shaking with fury, "but if you move, Griney, I will kill you."

'Charles' did not seem fazed. "I was under the impression that you could not Apparate within Hogwarts," he said, almost amicably.

"Auror's privileges," Ron growled, thrusting his wand more violently into the shape-shifter's neck. "Drop the wands, or I'll kill you."

"Drop your wand, or I'll kill her," 'Charles' replied coolly. He gestured to the wand pointed at Hermione with a slight nod of his head. Ron's eyes flashed with sudden alarm as the bound Hermione managed to let out a slight whimper through her cemented jaws.

"You wouldn't dare," Ron hissed.

"It would be an absolute pity, yes," Charles agreed. "But I would dare, I assure you."

From the look on Ron's face, it was obviously he was trying to determine the danger of hexing 'Charles' right then and there, and if that would give the shape-shifter enough time to cast a spell of his own on Hermione. Hermione tried to encourage Ron with a nod of her head, her eyes pleading for him to do away with the imposter, whatever the cost. But as the Auror glanced from Hermione to the shape-shifter in front of him, his decision seemed to already have been made. Reluctantly, he bent to the ground and laid his wand there.

"Now take a step backwards," the shape-shifter drawled. He appeared to be enjoying this. Ron seemed to be fighting the urge to strangle him with his bare hands, but Hermione's well-being seemed to win out. Ron begrudgingly took a step away from his wand.

"Wonderful," 'Charles' smirked, spinning around and scooping up Ron's wand. Now clutching two wands in his left hand, and his own wand in his right, the shape-shifter caused Ron to fall to the ground and skid backwards towards the wall Hermione was propped up against with a flick of his own wand. Ron's head violently snapped backwards and hit the wall with a sickening crack.

Hermione's lips unglued and she gasped for breath, then cried out as she saw Ron attempt to stagger up, finding his vision blurred by the blood slowly trickling down his face, dripping into his eyes. The glinting, crimson liquid stood out fiercely against his pale face, creating small rivulets down his cheek. Hermione struggled even more aggressively against the ropes, her only thought to get to Ron. He looked dazed, but seemed to have come to his senses. He only had enough time to wipe the blood from his eyes before cords spurted from the shape-shifter's wand and bound him tightly as well.

"You nearly ruined everything, you know," the fraud hissed at Ron, momentarily losing his unnerving, calm attitude. His hand shook as he pointed his wand at the red-haired wizard. "Meddling in things you shouldn't have, flirting with Hermione…I needed her, you see…you nearly ruined that. You nearly ruined me."

'Charles' turned to Hermione, shaking his head, his easygoing manner having re-appeared as quickly as it had vanished. "Pity you like this fellow, darling," he remarked, almost apologetically. Then he pointed his wand at Ron and abruptly jerked it to the side.

With a cry, Ron was thrown into the air by an invisible force. Hermione screamed as he was flung into one of the hard, stone walls of the chamber with a sickening thud. 'Charles' continued to toss Ron around like a rag doll, occasionally causing him to crash into one of the torture devices littering the chamber.

"Stop it!" Hermione screamed, watching in horror as Ron was tossed back to the ground, his right leg crumpling beneath him with a nauseating crack. His face was contorted in an expression of fury and pain.

"Yes, I think he's had quite enough, hasn't he?" the shape-shifter agreed as Ron's eyes rolled into the back of his head. The famous Auror slumped to the cold ground with a thud, unconscious. Hermione tried to scream again, but she seemed to have lost her voice; she could only stare at Ron's inanimate form in mute horror.

"Oh, we can't have that," the imposter said disapprovingly. "He has to be awake for all the fun," he twirled his wand around idly in his fingers, and then pointed it at Ron again. "Enervate."

Ron's eyes fluttered open, a low groan of pain escaping him.

"You're sick," Hermione whispered to the imposter, feeling her blood boil. "Whoever you are, you are sick…"

"Oh come now, dearest, surely you don't mean that," 'Charles' replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You barely know me. Or, well, the real me. Passing judgment so soon, really…Dumbledore would be ashamed - "

"Don't you dare speak his name," Ron choked out, blinded by pain and blood. Fury seemed to be the only thing keeping him conscious. "You pretended to be concerned about him…and this whole time…for God's sake, you work at the Ministry of Magic, you perverted - "

"He's a shape-shifter, Ron," Hermione said softly, her throat parched. Ron's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, making him look more dazed and pain-stricken than he already was.

"That's impossible…" he whispered.

"Oh no, Mr. Weasley, it is very possible. I am extremely fortunate to have ancestors on both sides of the family with the gift…and I suppose it was just the luck of the gene pool that the talent should skip so many generations and be bestowed upon me." The imposter gave another unsettling laugh. "Yes, I was meant to do great things…the Dark Lord said that himself once…"

"Who are you?" Ron demanded in a tone brimming with rage and loathing.

'Charles' glanced at his watch carelessly. "Well, we have time, I suppose…it really would be a shame for you to die without knowing what a brilliant plot you played a part in. It's fascinating, really, one of my most clever and elaborate ideas, if I do say so myself. But yes, we must wait for our third guest, so I suppose I could show you."

He began his now sickeningly familiar routine. Ron's eyes widened in revulsion and surprise as 'Charles' began his gruesome transformation anew. Hermione tried to will herself to look away, but found herself somehow drawn to the spectacle. She gasped softly in recognition, pieces of the puzzle seeming to fit together as rapidly as Charles Griney's features were changing and shifting. Ron inhaled sharply as the shape-shifter finished his revolting transformation.

The wizard standing before them looked very different from the last time they had seen him - his face was fuller, his hair was now trimmed and neat instead of wild and unruly, and his robes were not filthy and shabby, but were still the expensive ones that Charles Griney had been wearing only a few seconds ago. Only the haunted, wild, insane brown eyes remained the same, now causing memories of a courtroom and a penetrating stare to flood back to Hermione.

Donovan Owens stood before them.

He looked triumphant at the astonished looks on their faces. "That's much better," Donovan remarked, stretching. "All those different bodies were beginning to tire me…"

"You," Ron snarled, his eyes glinting with malice. "So that's what it is. Revenge. You're getting revenge on Dumbledore for almost sending you to Azkaban all those years ago - "

"Oh no, on the contrary, Mr. Weasley," Donovan answered. "Yes, revenge was my motive…but Dumbledore was not the original target, oh no…" He seemed absolutely brimming with eagerness, obviously bursting to share his ingenious plan with someone. "The target has always been…" he smirked and gestured to Ron and Hermione, "…you. And Mr. Potter, of course."

He paused, as if allowing time for his two victims to say something. When neither of them spoke, choosing to sit in stunned silence instead, Donovan shrugged and continued talking.

"I was here, you know," he said. A dark look was beginning to descend upon his eyes. "The night that you three supposedly defeated my master. He summoned us to him - we could feel the pain as much as he did." Anger was now creeping into Owens's voice, which had slowly become a low hiss. "And just before you banished him to a cursed existence, a half-life as he had before, he spoke to me. He told me that he could not return until his alleged killers were disposed of. He spoke to me…he gave me the greatest honour of all - helping to restore him to his former glory…" His eyes burned with pride, and a trembling Hermione realized something.

Donovan Owens was very, very insane.

"Voldemort is dead," Ron said flatly, not even flinching as he spoke the dreaded name. Obviously seven years in Harry's company had made him bold when it came to saying the name of the Dark Lord.

"He is not dead!" Donovan said shrilly, a wild look about him. "He spoke to me, he's alive…barely, but he's alive!" His words echoed in the circular chamber, bouncing off the walls, reverberating endlessly around the room.

"But," the shape-shifter said, now pacing the chamber, "how was I to avenge my master? That foolish court had sentenced my wife and I to Azkaban. And so, I had to make a choice…"

An unrecognizable emotion flitted over Donovan's face, but then was gone. "My Samantha was too weak to escape; after the Cruciatus curse, she was never the same…it was all that foolish girl's fault…" He dissolved into mumbling to himself, and then abruptly snapped out of it. "But my master had given me his orders," he continued. "He had chosen me to return him to power. On our way to Azkaban - they didn't dare use a Portkey, it was far too easy for us prisoners to escape in that whirlwind - I transformed into that Crump fool, just to shock the wizards guarding us. It worked; they were dumbfounded for a moment, and it was enough. Alonso and I managed to escape…but Sam…Sam was too weak…" A pained expression was now on his face. Donovan shook his head to clear it, and his calm, relaxed attitude returned once more.

"My master gave me explicit instructions," he continued, now idly toying with the crank on the torture mechanism Hermione had been staring at before. "It had to be all three of you…and here, at Hogwarts, in the very dungeons in which he'd nearly met his end - "

"You're…you're going to kill us?" Hermione burst out. A slow smile played across Owens's face.

"Oh, no need to worry, my dear," Donovan said coyly, crossing over to Hermione and kneeling down in front of her. She turned her head in disgust as he caressed her face with his fingers again. "I've become rather fond of you," he whispered in her ear. "Perhaps there's something my master and I can work out…"

"Get your hands off of her," Ron snapped furiously, uselessly fighting against the ropes wrapped around him. "Get your slimy, perverted hands off of - "

"You're becoming very boring very fast, Mr. Weasley," Donovan said irritably, rising to his feet and pointing his wand at Ron. Now Ron's jaws seemed to be cemented together, because all he could manage were muffled sounds through his lips. "Now, listen closely…" He smiled an oily smile and returned to toying with the crank, leaning against the wooden table.

"Alonso and I were weak; they had stunned us before we made our escape, and we were half-starved as it was. We had escaped somewhere in Switzerland, and if we had tried to Apparate, the Ministry would have picked it up and would have found us in seconds. We had no food, no wands. We lived off the forest we had fled into, barely able to survive. Alonso soon became quite a bother - he ate too much food, and seemed to be getting weaker instead of stronger." Owens's eyes glinted, and he looked smug. "So, I disposed of him."

Hermione barely contained a gasp; Ron narrowed his eyes, his breathing having become short and uneven, probably from the pain. Hermione watched Ron in concern. His right leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and his face was contorted into an expression of agony.

"And then," Donovan continued, having allowed a moment of silence for dramatic emphasis, "a miracle happened. Two foolish teenage wizards snuck into my forest one night, for thrills, I suppose. I surprised them. I stole their wands, and summoned the Knight Bus, transforming into some average Joe so as not to be recognized. I had lived in that vile forest for nearly five years.

"So, how was I to gather all three of you together at Hogwarts? I knew that the lovely Miss Granger here was already a teacher at the school, but you and Mr. Potter were abroad, Weasley, and not likely to return to Hogwarts. I considered fatally harming Hermione, for that surely would have brought both of you running…but I didn't want to harm her, because I would need her. Then I thought about writing to you, pretending to be Dumbledore…but I can mimic appearances, not handwriting. I spent the better part of a year trying to figure out how to go through with my master's plan. I feared it was impossible, that I had failed him." He took a breath, and suddenly a gleeful, deranged smile lit up the shape-shifter's face.

"And then…a blessing in disguise…Charles Griney came along," he said, laughing softly. "I had been staying in Hogsmeade, as close to Hogwarts as was possible. He was staying at the same inn as I, with the Minister for Magic. We struck up a conversation one night. I talked to him for nearly the entire night: about his work, about the Ministry, and about this wonderful girl he had met, a teacher up at the school. He was supposed to meet her for dinner the next night. When I learned he was going out with none other than Hermione Granger, I was ecstatic. When I learned he had no family, no living relatives, I thought it too good to be true. I spent the next few nights getting to know him, learning all I could about him. It didn't have to be exactly precise; it seemed he had few friends, and with no family, the only people I would have to fool would be those who knew him at the Ministry. And then, the night before he left to go back to London," Owens whispered, swelling with pride, "I killed him. I returned to London with Isaac Crump, in the body of Charles Griney."

Hermione realized that she was trembling violently. She felt numb. Donovan looked at her pityingly, though a smile played across his face.

"Don't worry, Hermione," he said soothingly. "I'm getting to the best part," he chuckled, clearing his throat. "I now had Hermione by my side constantly, but what to do about the other two? And then, you see, I had my stroke of brilliance - why not kill three birds with one stone? Dumbledore and Alonso's foolish daughter were both at the school - the two people responsible for sending my Sam to Azkaban, and for my living in exile in that damned forest, for so long. Now, I knew that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley would only come to the school if Dumbledore asked them to. So, I wrote that idiotic note, and sure enough, Dumbledore went crying to the two Aurors."

His audience was silent, perhaps contemplating what Donovan had just said, or too paralyzed with fear and loathing to speak.

"Then imagine my disappointment," Donovan went on, "when only Weasley showed up. And then, imagine my utter despair when he started making trouble, sticking his long nose where it didn't belong." He glared at Ron with malice. "I needed Potter to complete the trio, to obey my master's orders. At first I lost hope - but you see, I had been giving Euphoria to those idiot house-elves to sneak into Dumbledore's food. I was linked to him through the poison, I could feel him weakening. I knew that Potter would come to see Dumbledore when he was in the final stages of the poison. So I resigned myself to waiting…and then imagine my excitement when Potter did show up, just as expected - "

"What about those kids?" Ron interrupted harshly. "How did they fit into your sick little plot?"

"Oh, them," Owens said in an off-hand way. "Well, they weren't originally part of the plan, but they proved to be an unexpected asset. As I said before, I was going to kill three birds with one stone. I knew someone was sure to figure out what was really happening to Dumbledore eventually, and when they did, there would be hell to pay. Therefore I couldn't very well waltz into the kitchen as Charles Griney, or as myself, to give them the poison. So I had to choose someone to frame," he sneered, "and who better than that little brat Diana? I always took her form when delivering the Euphoria. I figured someone would be smart enough to question the house-elves eventually - preferably after your deaths and Dumbledore's, to allow me time to get out of England - and that the stupid little creatures would be happy to tell them that it had been Professor Drago poisoning the headmaster all along. As soon as everyone found out who her father was, the courts wouldn't hesitate to put her in Azkaban. It all worked out so perfectly, you see…Dumbledore dead, Diana behind bars, the three that destroyed my master done away with, and the Dark Lord free to return…"

He looked gleeful for a moment, his eyes shining madly. Donovan then shook his head to clear it, the insane smile still present on his face. He turned to Ron. "You asked about those two foolish boys…well, they had a nasty habit of sneaking down to the kitchens. I should have really been more careful, but…I suppose what happened was that they saw Professor Drago in the corridor outside the kitchens - and then they saw me, as Diana, leaving the kitchens seconds later. They began to suspect something. Rather than kill them, I Petrified them, while in Diana's body of course. Once awoken, they would just confirm the story that Diana was behind everything. But then, of course, I had to destroy the Mandrakes…they couldn't awaken until I was safely away from Hogwarts, just in case."

"And Dobby?" Hermione ventured to whisper hoarsely.

"The kitchen's head elf? Oh, I think the idiotic thing started to suspect foul play -  that the poison wasn't really 'medicine', because the next thing you know, he's telling Potter that he has to tell him something important. I couldn't have that, though, so I Petrified him as well while in Diana's body. He'll make a nice little addition to the witness stand at Diana's trial," Donovan smirked.

Hermione could only stare at him in disbelief - it was so complex, so carefully planned, so brilliant. Donovan seemed to sense her astonishment and looked extremely pleased with himself.

"And now, as soon as Mr. Potter shows up - as soon as he realizes that he's got the wrong Diana, he'll rush down here to save his little friends - the real fun will begin. You'll all suffer; just as the Dark Lord suffered, just as I suffered. And then I'll kill you, and the Dark Lord will be free to return. And I will be rewarded beyond my wildest dreams…" Donovan's eyes were glazed as he stared into space, that crazed smile still painted on his face.

"You're mad," Ron said bluntly, despite the pain he was evidently feeling. "I saw him die. We saw him die. He's gone this time, and you know it."

"Ah yes, ignorance is bliss, isn't it Mr. Weasley?" Owens retorted, though his voice sounded ever so slightly uncertain. He suddenly went rigid and alert, his eyes lighting up. He pointed his wand at the entrance, pocketing Hermione's and Ron's wands. Pounding footsteps were starting to become clearer and clearer. Hermione moaned and looked away, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry was going to come, and then they were all going to die. She looked to Ron, but there was no comfort in his pained expression. He looked almost as hopeless as she felt. A pang suddenly shot through her…after nearly fourteen years, they had finally admitted how they felt about each other…and it had been too late…

"Ron! Hermione!"

Hermione couldn't help but turn her head as Harry hollered their names and appeared at the entrance to the chamber, looking panicked. Someone was standing in the shadows behind him. A look of astonishment and disbelief flitted over Harry's face as he spotted Donovan Owens.

"Why hello, Mr. Potter," Donovan said silkily, his wand extended. "Nice of you to finally join us." He frowned as Harry drew his wand and pointed it in Donovan's direction. But the shape-shifter wasn't staring at the wand - he was staring at the figure behind Harry.

"You…" a female voice hissed in anger. Hermione's eyes widened as none other than the real Diana Drago stepped out from behind Harry. "You – " she called Donovan something quite rude, but not necessarily undeserved. "You were behind this!" she shouted in fury.

Donovan's eyes flickered, his mouth twitching. "It's a pity you have to stay alive to take the blame," he said brusquely to Diana. "I would have taken great pleasure in killing you, just as I killed your father…"

Diana's chest heaved as she took deep, deliberate breaths. She seemed to be fighting some sort of inner turmoil, trying to restrain herself from strangling Owens with her bare hands.

"It's because of you that I couldn't stop the Cruciatus curse," Donovan's voice began getting louder and shriller. "If you hadn't Stunned me and ran off…Sam wouldn't have had to endure the pain until your idiot of a father showed up an hour later and stopped the curse. She was never the same after that. She was so weak…" Donovan was clenching his fists, his eyes livid with hatred. "It's because of you that she couldn't escape when your father and I did. It's because of you that she ended up in Azkaban! It's because of you that she died there last year!" he bellowed, his hand shaking wildly as he shifted to point his wand at Diana instead. Harry saw his chance.

Hermione screamed and squeezed her eyes shut as three different voices hollered three different curses. A scream, a yell, a horrible thump, and then silence. Hermione risked opening one eye to see what happened, feeling as if she was going to be sick.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Diana sprawled on the stone floor, unconscious or worse, and an unarmed Donovan standing extremely still as Harry scrambled up, Donovan's wand clutched in his hand. Harry snapped the slender wand in two, crouched over and panting hard. It seemed he had been hit in the stomach with one of the curses. Nevertheless, he managed to point his own wand at Owens.

Donovan seemed to have recovered. "That's all right," he sneered, and in one quick motion, before Harry could react, he drew Hermione's wand from his pocket. "I have another," he laughed coldly, slowly turning and pointing the weapon at Ron.

"Now," Donovan drawled, "unless you want me to blow Mr. Weasley here to smithereens, I suggest you drop your wand."

Harry's uneven breaths were the only sound in the room as, resentfully, he slowly crouched to lay his wand on the ground. Just as it seemed he was about to drop it, he instead leapt up, screaming, "Expelliarmus!" at the top of his lungs. Hermione's wand flew out of Owens's hand and landed in the dark somewhere with a clatter. Unruffled, Donovan swiftly drew Ron's wand from his pocket, laughing maniacally.

"Who knows how many more I have hidden up my sleeve?" he taunted an astonished Harry. "Drop the wand, Mr. Potter. No tricks this time."

"Don't Harry, he's going to kill us anyway," Ron called feebly, now clutching his broken leg. Donovan's eyes flashed as he glared at Ron out of the corner of his eye.

"Meddling fool," Owens hissed, but Harry still seemed dubious despite Ron's warning. Hermione knew her friend too well; Harry would not try to harm Donovan, would not risk Hermione or Ron getting hurt. The Boy Who Lived dropped his wand.

"Excellent," Donovan said smoothly. Suddenly, a strange expression crossed his face, and he slowly cocked his head to the left a bit. "Yes, master…they are all here," he said in a dreamy voice. Harry stared, looking both confused and apprehensive at the same time. "Yes…yes, I am sorry for wasting time…I had to wait for Potter, you see. Yes, master…but I have a request…may I keep the girl?" Owens flinched abruptly, and started speaking very fast. "No, master, but she will be harmless, I assure you! Please master, I have served you well, master…I'll perform a memory charm on her, she will not remember…" A look of sheer delight dawned on his face. "Thank you, master! You are most kind, master, most gracious - yes, yes…I will get on with it, thank you master…"


The affected smile on his face did not waver as he hurried over to Hermione. "You're very lucky, darling," he said excitedly. "My master has agreed to let me keep you alive…with a few modifications to your memory, of course." He stroked her hair lovingly, his eyes greedily taking her in. "Oh, how you remind me of my Sam…" he whispered. Hermione shuddered under his touch.

"Leave her alone!" Donovan whirled around as Harry spoke out furiously. "I don't know what you're trying to do, or why you think Voldemort's still living, but you're sick."

"Silence, Potter!" Owens thundered, pointing his wand at Harry. A twisted smile slowly spread across his face. "You've been the Boy Who Lived Far Too Many Times," he whispered.

Hermione choked; he was going to do it. He was going to kill Harry, and then Ron. She didn't even want to think about whatever perverted fate he had in mind for her. She tried to look away, but she was paralyzed, forced to watch as her best friends were murdered. Absolute and devastating hopelessness washed over her as Donovan Owens began uttering the words to the spell that had killed Harry's parents and Severus Snape. The spell that would kill Harry.

Hermione started, and time seemed to freeze in its tracks momentarily. Snape.

Owens had forgotten something.

"Avada Kedavra!" the shape-shifter cried triumphantly as time returned to normal for Hermione. Harry didn't move; rather, he stood straight-backed and tall, perhaps unafraid to die, or perhaps because he had remembered too. A blinding, green light filled the dim chamber, forcing Hermione to shut her eyes against its brilliance. A whooshing sound filled the chamber, the unmistakable sound of approaching death. And after that, silence. An extremely loud silence. Shaking, Hermione dared to open her eyes.

Donovan Owens lay on the ground, cold, unmoving, and unmarked. He was dead, a victim of his own rebounded curse, just as his master had once been. He had made the same mistake that the Dark Lord had made twice – Owens had forgotten the protection that lingered on Harry, first from his mother's sacrifice, and then from Snape's.

Harry himself stood with his arms raised, as if he had been shielding himself from the brilliant light. The sleeves of his robe on his right arm had been singed. Harry slowly lowered his arms, breathing hard.

"God, Snape," Ron said weakly, "that's two we owe you." And with that, Ron collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Miles away in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, Albus Dumbledore's eyes flew open.

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Ah, the climax of the story. If you refused to review all throughout this story, but then thought, "Meh, maybe I'll review just one chapter to appease SP and the review song gods," review this one. Please and thank you. ^_^