Kneeling on the grass, Severus Snape was marginally aware of the wet
seeping into his best pair of trousers and the rocky bits reminding him
that his joints were nearly forty years old and not happy with this sort of
rude treatment. In all, though, it didn't signify, because his wife was
alive and propped against his chest with his arms wrapped around her. He
had no plans to let go at any time in the near future. In fact, if Severus
had his way, he and Hermione would go back at Dumbledore's archaic little
cottage and not emerge until their child got its letter of admittance from
Hogwarts.
That little fantasy, and he knew it was a fantasy, was shattered by the appearance of Ginny Weasley. She was wearing dress robes for her boyfriend and brother's graduation ceremony, but the sword in her hand and the phoenix on her arm were indications that the ceremony was not going to go off without a hitch. Her announcement of Voldemort's attack was merely the bitter icing on a cake of a day.
"I'd never have found you if Fawkes hadn't shown me where to Apparate to," Ginny was saying as she threw one arm around Harry's neck and kissed him quickly. "Dumbledore put him on my arm just before he went out to meet You- Know-Who!"
"How did Voldemort get on the grounds?" demanded Lupin urgently.
"I don't know! The heads of house just told us - the prefects - to get everyone down some trap door on the third floor while they prepared to defend the castle." Ginny's narrative faltered for a moment as she took in the dead body of Lucius Malfoy stretched out on the green grass, but quickly recovered. "Professor Dumbledore called me back at the last moment and gave me the sword. He said Fawkes would help me find you."
With the mention of his name, the phoenix arched his neck, surveying them all. His beady black eyes lighted on Hermione and he spread his crimson wings to glide to the ground at her side.
"We've got to get back, right now," declared Harry. He took the sword from Ginny and hefted it firmly in his hand. "I think Malfoy might have taken Hermione just to get me away from the school."
"No, I don't think it was Malfoy's idea," Lupin said, shaking his head as his brow furrowed in furious thought. "He's been running around in circles for weeks. If anything, I think Lucius was probably following Voldemort's orders, and Voldemort deliberately used him as a stalking horse to lure as many of us as possible away from Dumbledore's side. At the very least to distract Harry and Severus."
"'When the Dark Lord betrays his most loyal servant,'" quoted Sirius, his face bloodless with shock.
"The prophesy," Severus concluded grimly. "And Dumbledore's first priority will be to protect the students. He will have the staff defend them and the school, and confront Voldemort by himself."
"I thought Wormtail was his most loyal servant," murmured Hermione to Severus.
Unnoticed by the humans around him, Fawkes crouched as close as possible to Hermione as she lay half-reclining in Severus' grasp and laid his head over her chest. Several warm, pearly tears squeezed out of his eyes and slid down her décolletage to pool over her heart. Even Hermione paid scant attention to the bird, other than petting him absently, though her breathing became easier and her pulse ceased its rapid pounding, slowing to a more reasonable cadence. (Truth be told, Fawkes was still miffed that no one had had the sense to let him into the Hospital Wing when Severus Snape lay close to death last year. Even a phoenix had difficulty moving through solid walls.) All of Hermione's attention was on the discussion raging among the group of people standing around her.
"Malfoy's been desperate to prove himself to Voldemort," Lupin pointed out. "I'd say that qualifies him for the prophesy."
"Sod the prophesy," said Harry loudly, startling everyone. A fierce light burned in his green eyes, and Hermione shivered in awe at his determined tone of command. His voice was deeper that Hermione had ever realized, the strength of his conviction adding to the authority in his voice. "I don't give a damn for prophesies, and I don't give a damn for Voldemort, either. I'm going to shove this sword right through him and I'll do the same to any Death Eater who gets in my way."
"I'm right behind you, mate," Ron said. Lupin and Black were quick to weigh in with their agreement.
Fawkes lifted his head, considering the tall, slim young man with the sword in his hand. With a piercing cry he launched himself from the ground and landed on Harry's shoulder. Surprised, Harry reached up and scratched the bird gently along the back of his neck feathers. For the rest of her life, Hermione would remember the image of Harry Potter standing in his red Quidditch robes with a sword in one hand and a golden-tailed phoenix on his shoulder.
"Are you coming?" Harry asked Severus, somehow making the words an invitation.
"Yes. Of course," Severus declared after a moment. While Hermione wanted to clutch at him and make him stay, she knew better.
"Ginny, I want you to stay here with Hermione," Harry continued.
Ginny protested immediately. "No! I want to come with you! Let him stay!" She indicated Severus with a jerk of her head.
Normally Hermione would have been annoyed at the assumption she needed help, but as she was currently weak as a limp rag and ached from head to toe, she decided to let it go.
"Hermione's been hit with an Avada Kedavra," Harry countered, "and you know she can't Apparate. Someone needs to stay with her, and you're nowhere near as strong as Snape is. Please, Ginny! Don't argue!"
"Please, Miss Weasley," added Severus in a low undertone. "Please look after her." The quiet entreaty in his velvety voice reached her better than Harry's orders. Her shoulder slumped.
"Oh, all right. Damn it all, Harry," she cursed bleakly. I wanted to be with you."
"I know you did, Ginny," Harry replied. "I love you." Ginny murmured something, presumably the same words, as Harry kissed her swiftly. On his shoulder, Fawkes gave an impatient trill that was ignored.
Hermione looked away from the couple and found Severus' dark eyes looking straight into hers. For just a moment she forgot that she was in pain, forgot the coming battle that might see her friends dead, forgot everything but the man who held her in his arms and slowly, gently, kissed her mouth as though she were the most precious possession in the universe.
"I love you, Hermione," he murmured, his voice gone rough with emotion. "No matter what, always remember that I love you with all my heart and soul."
"And I love you," she whispered, fighting back tears as he pressed one more quick kiss to her forehead and rose to his feet. As he moved to join the other men, he paused for one moment to put his hand on Ginny Weasley's arm.
"Thank you," he said simply.
And with a chorus of 'pops' the five of them were gone, leaving Hermione and Ginny alone.
*****
For several minutes after the wizards had Disapparated, Ginny paced wildly, obviously in a full Weasley rage. Hermione remained where she was on the ground, huddled in Severus' coat for comfort.
Would you please stop that," Hermione sighed finally. "You're making me dizzy."
"How can you just sit there?" Ginny snapped. "They've gone off and left us behind, and you know how much I've wanted to be there when it all landed in the pot!"
"Yes, and I wanted to be there, too," Hermione reminded the younger girl tartly. "But you've got to admit Severus could out-duel you any day of the week."
Ginny dropped to her knees beside Hermione and began to pull up blades of grass from the hillside, savagely ripping them apart. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hermione! Do you always have to be so bloody practical? It's going to be the greatest wizard battle in a hundred years, and we're missing it!"
That earned her a raised eyebrow, oddly reminiscent of Snape's trademark disdain. "Bit blood-thirsty, are you? And when did you all learn to Apparate?"
"Jealous?" asked Ginny, quite accurately. "Dumbledore had a lot of the sixth-year class and most of the prefects start taking the class just a few months ago. I'm not up to solo Apparating yet, but really, Fawkes did all the work. I just did the spell."
"I had to drop out of the class," Hermione said with a sniff, absently rubbing her aching abdomen. "And here you are, taking it before me."
"Well, you can't take a chance of getting splinched, can you? Don't worry, you'll have that baby soon, then you can take all the lessons you want."
Hermione frowned and shifted her weight. "Ginny... I may be taking those lessons sooner than you think."
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked absently, still shredding the hapless piece of grass and staring out over the endless grass.
Hermione let out a small gasp as the full body ache that had been bothering her for some time abruptly coalesced in her back. "I think I'm in labor."
"What!? No, you can't be. Not now, for heaven's sake! You're not due yet!"
"I've had a very trying morning!" Hermione tried to joke, but the ache prevented her, robbing her of breath. "Help me sit up."
Ginny did as she was asked, but let out a horrified exclamation as she moved the cloak the two of them had been sitting on. "Hermione, you're bleeding!"
Feeling the fabric, then inspecting her hand, the older girl shook her head. "It's not blood. It's amniotic fluid. My water's broken."
"Really? What's it like?"
Hermione paused while the contraction slowly eased. "It feels like I've wet myself."
"And you've only just now noticed?" Ginny demanded.
"I thought the pain was just an after-effect of the Avada Kedavra!" she explained. "How are we going to get back to Hogwarts in time? What am I saying-we can't go to Hogwarts, there's a battle going on there. I don't even know where we are!"
"We're in Wales, somewhere. Professor Dumbledore said they thought you'd been taken to Malfoy Manor at first, but even Lucius Malfoy isn't that stupid. Wasn't, I mean," she amended, noting the still form of the deceased Death Eater.
"Bloody hell," Hermione cursed vehemently. "Well, let's get going. I can have this baby in a Muggle hospital just as well as at Hogwarts." With Ginny's help, she managed to stand up, and held the damp fabric of her dress away from her with distaste. She took several decisive steps before noticing Ginny had not followed. "Well? Which way?"
Ginny bit her lip. "Herm, I don't know how to tell you this... we're miles from any village."
Hermione stared at her, appalled, until another contraction bent her double.
Ginny sprang forward and put a supporting arm around her. "Tell you what. Let's just get you a bit further away from here," she said, with a nod towards the body lying on the grass. "We'll get you comfortable, and wait and see what happens. My mum says it takes ages to have a baby. Someone's bound to come back for us before too long."
"Let's just hope it's someone from our side," Hermione joked feebly. Her breath caught in a sob. "Oh, Gods, Ginny. This can't be happening now. It just can't!" The contraction argued that yes, it could. "What am I going to do?"
Accustomed to Hermione being the bossy one in their friendship, Ginny was momentarily at a loss for words. But if nothing else, Ginny was Molly Weasley's daughter. "Well," she said reasonably, "I think we're going to have a baby."
*****
Just as they had some hours ago, the five wizards appeared at the same time and immediately took a defensive position. This time, however, the view between the winged boar gateposts that framed the broad entrance to Hogwarts was not empty. Under the bright June sun, perfect for weddings and summer picnics, black and gray robed figures were scattered across the green lawn.
"The wards are all down," Severus noticed instantly. "A secondary set of spells should have been triggered around the castle itself if Voldemort overcame the Apparation barrier."
"Something's happened to Albus, hasn't it?" Sirius asked, and Snape nodded sharply as he looked out over the lawn.
With a sharp musical cry, Fawkes launched himself off Harry's shoulder and winged out over the battlefield, for a battle it was. Spells flared on the broad lawn, dark figures struggling in knots as curses and hexes flew like leaves in a high wind. Harry thought he recognized several of the Aurors from the Hogsmeade patrol among the scattered combatants fighting against the Death Eaters.
"Well, Potter, 'bout time you showed up," sneered a familiar voice. Draco Malfoy jogged up from the narrow avenue between the castle and the high outer wall, the same avenue Severus had led Hermione through on the day he'd taken her shopping in Diagon Alley. Behind him was a straggle of sixth and seventh-year students, chiefly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Among them, surprisingly, was Neville Longbottom, and even more surprisingly, the large form of Gregory Goyle.
"Why aren't you locked up?" Ron asked hotly.
"Because I'm leading the charge of the lame brigade," Draco answered in his usual bored, jeering voice, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the twenty or more students behind him.
"Draco's apparently a sleeper agent," answered Dean Thomas, who'd read far too many espionage books during his summers home with his Muggle family. "He got all the Slytherins worked up, well some of them, anyway," he amended, after taking a look at Goyle's thunderous expression, "and said as how he was going to go out and help the Death Eaters. And no sooner do they all get excited the git tried to take them out by himself. If Neville hadn't figured it out, they'd have had his goolies on toast."
The young Slytherin rolled his eyes at the idea of owing his continued existence to Neville Longbottom and although Severus was inclined to agree with that sentiment, it wasn't entirely impossible. The awkward boy had matured into a cautious young man with a knack for understanding people's motivations, if only because he was accustomed to being picked upon by his classmates.
Harry gave Draco a long, measuring look, under which the Slytherin waited, without squirming, to see if Harry would correct Dean's assumption. Severus made no effort to interfere; this was Harry's battle and it was his decision to make. Almost deliberately, Harry turned towards the other students and made no indication that Draco's intentions had ever been anything but pure.
"So we decided we'd come out and do the same thing, only for Professor Dumbledore's side," Neville finished, his eyes wide but not stuttering as usual. "Terry Boot and some of the others stayed behind to take care of the younger students and keep an eye on the Slytherins."
"Hey," rumbled Goyle, a puzzled frown on his slab-like face. "Aren't you Sirius Black?"
Sirius nodded, noting the apprehension on the other students' faces. "Yes. And I'm Harry's godfather."
Goyle thought about this for a moment before shrugging one massive shoulder as he ignored the convoluted implications; he was and always had been a follower and he would follow Draco Malfoy until it got him killed. His own reluctance to follow his father into the Death Eaters had caused him several moments of uneasiness, but his delay in joining the other Slytherins earlier in the day had left him exactly where he preferred to be - following Draco Malfoy.
"What happened to you?" Ron asked Seamus, who bore a large red mark on his face.
"Lavender," he answered briefly. "I told her she couldn't come with us, and she got a bit upset."
"So Romeo here puts her in a full body bind and props her in the corner," Draco finished with a nasty grin. "If she ever does marry him, he's going to be sleeping on the sofa for the first five years."
"We'll worry about our love lives some other time," Severus interrupted, the acid tone in his voice cutting through the young men's nervous banter with ease. "Where's Voldemort?"
The nervous students settled immediately under the lash of Professor Snape's sarcasm, and their sense of purpose hardened. Draco pointed over the sloping lawn, where one figure in the midst of a sea of black robes stood slightly taller than the rest. The Dark Lord was watching the slow advance of his forces against the powerful charms and shielding spells thrown up by the teaching staff of Hogwarts. On the ground beside him, in a heap like so much forgotten washing, was Albus Dumbledore.
"All right," Harry said firmly. "The far side of the castle is bound almost entirely by the lake. The squid will take care of anyone coming up that way, that's what he's for. Who here can Apparate?"
Draco and the rest of the seventh-years raised their hands, except for Neville who still hadn't caught on to the finer details. One of the sixth- year prefects also raised her hand. Harry couldn't remember the Ravenclaw's name, but she had a stubborn chin and a dangerous look in her eye. Next to her, Colin Creevey toyed with his camera before tucking it carefully into the pocket of his robes, for once having the sense to not document the moment for posterity.
"Here's the plan. I want everyone who can do so to Apparate to the far side of the lawn, over by Hagrid's hut, and work your way back towards the center. Do what you can to pick off any Death Eaters on the fringes and try to keep them from flanking Professor McGonagall. Don't take too many chances, however." One and all they ignored him, and he knew it, but did not call them on it. This would be a battle of historical proportions, and everyone present knew the odds were against them. Caution was not part of their marching orders. "Draco - you're in charge."
"Right," Draco answered, swallowing hard and for once without a smart remark. Severus put his hand on Draco's shoulder and the younger wizard looked at him, his ice-blue eyes white rimmed with shock at Harry's gesture of trust. Severus' black eyes held nothing but understanding - he'd once been given trust he hadn't deserved, and had spent the next fifteen years trying to be worthy of it. Just like his mentor had done with Severus, Harry was giving Draco the chance to redeem himself.
Draco frowned suddenly. "Was. well, you didn't kill me, so I guess Granger's all right?"
"Lucius tried to kill her," Severus told him uncompromisingly. "Your father's dead." Draco swallowed again and nodded his head once, controlling his breathing with some effort, but appeared to be almost as relieved as he was dismayed.
"Those who can't Apparate, I want to go directly up the hill to support McGonagall. The Death Eathers won't take you seriously, and by the time they do you should have made it to the front steps. And all of you - remember one thing. Don't hesitate, and don't try to play fair. You're stronger together than you are separately, so don't try to take on anyone in single combat. Watch out for each other."
"What are you going to do?" asked Susan Bones, her reddish hair reminding Harry rather painfully of Ginny.
"I'm going to kill Voldemort," he said in a voice that held no doubt whatsoever.
"Wearing that?" Draco scoffed at the Quidditch gear Harry still wore from his early morning practice. "He'll see you coming a mile away."
"Why not?" Harry returned with a grim smile. "They've always brought me luck against you."
Draco made a sour face, but said nothing further as he gestured to the dozen or so older students before pulling out his wand to Apparate.
Dean and Neville led the rest of the students past the shrubbery that clogged the edge of the lawn, and with one look back, began to make their way towards the embattled professors defending the main entrance to Hogwarts.
With Harry in the lead, Severus, Remus, Sirius and Ron struck out on an angle that would lead them directly behind the main body of Death Eaters. Their rapid progress caught several Death Eaters unawares and stunned them before they could raise any alarm. Severus knew they had at the most only a minute or two before the main group of the enemy would notice their little band. They passed several already stunned Death Eaters, lying in close proximity to a middle-aged witch and a younger wizard wearing the same practical, nondescript robes typical to the Aurors. The young man's chest still rose and fell, and would presumably live until the end of the battle, to be either aided or dispatched by the victors, depending on the outcome.
As they skirted another knot of subsided violence, Severus heard Harry inhale sharply. Before them, face down on the grass, lay the motionless form of Rubeus Hagrid. A fair number of dark-robed figures lay scattered about, some of them lying like disjointed dolls around the beaten half- giant. Judging from the tableau, the groundskeeper had gone berserk when Dumbledore had fallen and had waded into the ranks of Death Eaters with devastating effect until he was felled at last by multiple hexes. Faithful to the end, the enormous hound Fang sat mournfully beside Hagrid's corpse.
Harry took one step towards the body of his oldest friend, then stopped. "Come, Fang," Harry commanded, his voice barely wobbling. The hound hesitated, then lurched to his feet and joined their small group.
In a wedge, the five of them forced their way through the battle, aiding the few Aurors who remained standing. One or two Death Eaters at the fringe of the crowd around Voldemort turned to see the approaching group, and they quickly called their lord's attention to Harry's approach.
Across the lawn, the defending staff members took advantage of the sudden lull and forced their way further down the slope of the hill towards Voldemort and the fallen headmaster. Leading the assorted professors was Minerva McGonagall. Somewhere along the way she'd lost both her hat and her glasses, and her neatly bound hair had come down in straggles over her shoulders, but she had a clan tartan thrown over one shoulder and she looked every bit as fierce as her Highland forbears. The only thing missing was a stripe of blue face paint running from her hairline to her chin.
Coming up beside the professors were the students who had left with Dean and Neville, joining ranks with the defenders. Dean had one arm around Susan Bones' shoulders, leaning heavily on the younger girl but his wand at the ready as he limped behind his teachers.
From the west, Draco Malfoy and his handful of students forged up the last few yards. Goyle held a hand to a nasty wound on his forehead, but his brain was hardly a vital organ. Several others showed signs of hard wear, but their expressions were universally set and determined. The Death Eaters solidified their line but unconsciously drew back from the additional threat; no matter how used they were to dispensing pain and suffering to their victims, they had little experience with a concerted, organized resistance.
"TOM RIDDLE!" shouted Harry, pointing his wand at the wizard.
Silver masks gleaming in the sunlight, the Death Eaters parted to reveal their master, drawing around him in eddies of black and gray. The clear area immediately behind the Dark Lord included the crumpled body of the headmaster, but Harry could afford to do no more than glance at the elderly wizard and could not tell whether he was dead or alive.
"Harry Potter," hissed the dark wizard slowly. His white, reptilian hands rose and pushed back the hood of his dark robes, revealing his bony, repulsive countenance. "My dear boy. You don't know how glad I am to see you. And on your feet, for once. It's about time. It simply wouldn't do for everyone to see you die on your knees."
Despite the confident words, Severus knew Voldemort better than almost anyone, and he detected the faint signs of fatigue and stress around the red eyes. Dumbledore had not been easily defeated, and Voldemort would have had to expend a great deal of energy and magic to do so. Severus felt sure that the confrontation with Harry Potter was coming much sooner than the almost immortal wizard had planned or was ready for.
"He wasn't expecting you," he murmured in an undertone to Harry. "You were supposed to spend most of today chasing Malfoy, and give him time to gain control of everything here. He's off balance." The young wizard jerked his head in a short nod, acknowledging the words without taking his attention off his adversary.
Voldemort's red eyes flicked to the men standing beside Harry. "Severus," he ground out in quiet menace. "I'll deal with you later.
"I've already taken care of my greatest adversary," Voldemort continued, gesturing to the silver-haired wizard lying dead or unconscious on the ground, "and only you remain, Harry Potter. Son of my enemy, heir of Gryffindor," he spat out contemptuously. "You come before me with nothing but your toy sword and a pathetic assortment of allies. If you had the slightest sense you would flee to the ends of the earth and cower in fear for the paltry remains of your days."
"You should have gone into theatre," Harry said abruptly. "You're worse than Gilderoy Lockhart."
The abrupt sniggers of Remus and Sirius were too much for Severus to keep a straight face; he too grinned inappropriately at the comparison. Suddenly the group of wizards in their black robes and silver masks seemed patently absurd; it was a midsummer day and he could feel a trickle of sweat making its way down his back, and see a similar trail running behind Harry's ear. The Death Eaters would be keeling over from heat exhaustion before long.
Voldemort's face twisted in abrupt rage and his wand swung towards Harry with decisive killing force.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, getting the words out a hair before Voldemort finished his "AVADA KADAVRA!"
As they had before, the two brother wands connected, their respective spells lost in the clash of power. This time, however, no golden cage formed around the combatants. Splinters of gold appeared and dissipated in the air around them, sometimes to quickly to be seen, and during it all the golden thread which stretched from each wand tip grew thicker in the center. First one, then another ball of light formed on that thread, then more. Like beads on a cord they moved back and forth, growing larger and larger, glowing brighter.
Harry took a faltering step forward, then another, only peripherally aware of Severus and Sirius at his back, keeping pace. The golden balls grew in size and intensity as they slid between the wands of the Boy Who Lived and He Who Must Not Be Named. Harry staggered forwards another step, and a high, clear note began to sing from the golden thread, filling the ear and sliding down until the jaws began to ache.
The cord between Harry and Voldemort solidified and grew thicker as the young man fought to advance, becoming rope-like, then a solid beam bigger than a man's arm. The luminous balls coalesced, merging with each other into a single globe that grew in size and brightness until it became hard to see anything but the light and the silhouetted black forms of the dueling wizards.
Harry and Voldemort let out simultaneous yells as the phoenix song suddenly rose into a high scream and their wands erupted into flames. The gigantic ball of power between them disintegrated, throwing out waves of golden sparkles that glowed brighter than the overhead sun before falling to the ground like cinders.
With a snarl, Voldemort cast aside the handful of ashy splinters that remained in his scaly white fingers before those same fingers dove inside his robes and came up with another wand. Severus swore silently - hadn't he and Dumbledore squirreled away several found wands, yet blithely assumed there was time after Graduation to get Harry another wand?
The new wand, however, was quickly shown to be less than compatible and Voldemort's face twisted in aggravation as it hesitated before discharging. The fragment of delay allowed Severus and Sirius to cast spells at the same moment, blocking the curse flung at Harry.
One part of Severus' mind heard Remus Lupin cry out in pain as a Death Eater hit him with a painful curse as the battle erupted all around. Although Voldemort's followers were technically surrounded, they still outnumbered the castle's defenders by more than two to one. From the corner of his eye Severus saw Ron Weasley give Remus a hand up as the younger man cast a rather vicious hex in return.
Most of his focus, however, remained on the lithe figure of Harry Potter as the young man fought his way towards the murderous wizard standing just a few lengths away, staggering as he absorbed the hexes he could not dodge or Severus and Sirius could not block, catching more than one on the blade of the sword and somehow parrying them, sending the offensive magic skittering off on odd and dangerous tangents. By sheer force of will, the two older wizards kept pace with Harry as he closed in on the Dark Lord. In an unspoken accord, Sirius and Severus devoted their entire attention to defending Harry, and in turn Ron and Remus did all they could to protect those two wizards from the hail of spells flying in all directions on the field.
Voldemort howled with rage as the uncooperative wand in his hand continued to balk at his mastery, interfering with his aim and hesitating at inopportune moments. Arrogance and the press of his own followers at his back kept Voldemort from retreating as Harry raised the silver sword and swung wildly, the tip of the blade tearing the wand from the white hand and snapping it in two.
The Death Eaters gave ground as their leader snarled at them to get out of the way, allowing Voldemort to backpedal a few steps as he fumbled in his robes once more, reaching for yet another wand.
Voldemort was a powerful wizard, older than many on the field, and nearly immortal. However, his stolen body could not match the reflexes of a seventeen-year-old Quidditch fanatic, and he was physically incapable of dodging as Harry Potter brought Godric Gryffindor's sword up and lunged forward with all his might.
A scream tore from the Dark Lord's thin lips, his voice echoing across the battlefield as the sword grated against his ribs. The reptilian face twisted in agony and disbelief as Harry thrust the sword deeper. Almost as one, the incredulous Death Eaters and their equally shocked opponents halted their conflict to see Voldemort sag to his knees before Harry.
Severus could just make out the movement of Harry's mouth as he chanted a spell, but the majority of the spell was in the hissing syllables of Parseltongue. The few wisps of Latin he caught were not anything that had been taught in classes, though the verb for binding was clear, and the sword in Harry's hands began to burn a bright white. The sunlight, however, seemed to fade as the spell drew power from the very air around it, sucked in until the battlefield grew dim and Severus strained to see anything but the encompassing darkness and the brilliant white length of steel. The light coalesced and then suddenly went out.
Instantly, a cold, searing pain went through Severus' left arm. He never heard Remus call his name, or the startled shouts of the Hogwarts defenders.
That little fantasy, and he knew it was a fantasy, was shattered by the appearance of Ginny Weasley. She was wearing dress robes for her boyfriend and brother's graduation ceremony, but the sword in her hand and the phoenix on her arm were indications that the ceremony was not going to go off without a hitch. Her announcement of Voldemort's attack was merely the bitter icing on a cake of a day.
"I'd never have found you if Fawkes hadn't shown me where to Apparate to," Ginny was saying as she threw one arm around Harry's neck and kissed him quickly. "Dumbledore put him on my arm just before he went out to meet You- Know-Who!"
"How did Voldemort get on the grounds?" demanded Lupin urgently.
"I don't know! The heads of house just told us - the prefects - to get everyone down some trap door on the third floor while they prepared to defend the castle." Ginny's narrative faltered for a moment as she took in the dead body of Lucius Malfoy stretched out on the green grass, but quickly recovered. "Professor Dumbledore called me back at the last moment and gave me the sword. He said Fawkes would help me find you."
With the mention of his name, the phoenix arched his neck, surveying them all. His beady black eyes lighted on Hermione and he spread his crimson wings to glide to the ground at her side.
"We've got to get back, right now," declared Harry. He took the sword from Ginny and hefted it firmly in his hand. "I think Malfoy might have taken Hermione just to get me away from the school."
"No, I don't think it was Malfoy's idea," Lupin said, shaking his head as his brow furrowed in furious thought. "He's been running around in circles for weeks. If anything, I think Lucius was probably following Voldemort's orders, and Voldemort deliberately used him as a stalking horse to lure as many of us as possible away from Dumbledore's side. At the very least to distract Harry and Severus."
"'When the Dark Lord betrays his most loyal servant,'" quoted Sirius, his face bloodless with shock.
"The prophesy," Severus concluded grimly. "And Dumbledore's first priority will be to protect the students. He will have the staff defend them and the school, and confront Voldemort by himself."
"I thought Wormtail was his most loyal servant," murmured Hermione to Severus.
Unnoticed by the humans around him, Fawkes crouched as close as possible to Hermione as she lay half-reclining in Severus' grasp and laid his head over her chest. Several warm, pearly tears squeezed out of his eyes and slid down her décolletage to pool over her heart. Even Hermione paid scant attention to the bird, other than petting him absently, though her breathing became easier and her pulse ceased its rapid pounding, slowing to a more reasonable cadence. (Truth be told, Fawkes was still miffed that no one had had the sense to let him into the Hospital Wing when Severus Snape lay close to death last year. Even a phoenix had difficulty moving through solid walls.) All of Hermione's attention was on the discussion raging among the group of people standing around her.
"Malfoy's been desperate to prove himself to Voldemort," Lupin pointed out. "I'd say that qualifies him for the prophesy."
"Sod the prophesy," said Harry loudly, startling everyone. A fierce light burned in his green eyes, and Hermione shivered in awe at his determined tone of command. His voice was deeper that Hermione had ever realized, the strength of his conviction adding to the authority in his voice. "I don't give a damn for prophesies, and I don't give a damn for Voldemort, either. I'm going to shove this sword right through him and I'll do the same to any Death Eater who gets in my way."
"I'm right behind you, mate," Ron said. Lupin and Black were quick to weigh in with their agreement.
Fawkes lifted his head, considering the tall, slim young man with the sword in his hand. With a piercing cry he launched himself from the ground and landed on Harry's shoulder. Surprised, Harry reached up and scratched the bird gently along the back of his neck feathers. For the rest of her life, Hermione would remember the image of Harry Potter standing in his red Quidditch robes with a sword in one hand and a golden-tailed phoenix on his shoulder.
"Are you coming?" Harry asked Severus, somehow making the words an invitation.
"Yes. Of course," Severus declared after a moment. While Hermione wanted to clutch at him and make him stay, she knew better.
"Ginny, I want you to stay here with Hermione," Harry continued.
Ginny protested immediately. "No! I want to come with you! Let him stay!" She indicated Severus with a jerk of her head.
Normally Hermione would have been annoyed at the assumption she needed help, but as she was currently weak as a limp rag and ached from head to toe, she decided to let it go.
"Hermione's been hit with an Avada Kedavra," Harry countered, "and you know she can't Apparate. Someone needs to stay with her, and you're nowhere near as strong as Snape is. Please, Ginny! Don't argue!"
"Please, Miss Weasley," added Severus in a low undertone. "Please look after her." The quiet entreaty in his velvety voice reached her better than Harry's orders. Her shoulder slumped.
"Oh, all right. Damn it all, Harry," she cursed bleakly. I wanted to be with you."
"I know you did, Ginny," Harry replied. "I love you." Ginny murmured something, presumably the same words, as Harry kissed her swiftly. On his shoulder, Fawkes gave an impatient trill that was ignored.
Hermione looked away from the couple and found Severus' dark eyes looking straight into hers. For just a moment she forgot that she was in pain, forgot the coming battle that might see her friends dead, forgot everything but the man who held her in his arms and slowly, gently, kissed her mouth as though she were the most precious possession in the universe.
"I love you, Hermione," he murmured, his voice gone rough with emotion. "No matter what, always remember that I love you with all my heart and soul."
"And I love you," she whispered, fighting back tears as he pressed one more quick kiss to her forehead and rose to his feet. As he moved to join the other men, he paused for one moment to put his hand on Ginny Weasley's arm.
"Thank you," he said simply.
And with a chorus of 'pops' the five of them were gone, leaving Hermione and Ginny alone.
*****
For several minutes after the wizards had Disapparated, Ginny paced wildly, obviously in a full Weasley rage. Hermione remained where she was on the ground, huddled in Severus' coat for comfort.
Would you please stop that," Hermione sighed finally. "You're making me dizzy."
"How can you just sit there?" Ginny snapped. "They've gone off and left us behind, and you know how much I've wanted to be there when it all landed in the pot!"
"Yes, and I wanted to be there, too," Hermione reminded the younger girl tartly. "But you've got to admit Severus could out-duel you any day of the week."
Ginny dropped to her knees beside Hermione and began to pull up blades of grass from the hillside, savagely ripping them apart. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hermione! Do you always have to be so bloody practical? It's going to be the greatest wizard battle in a hundred years, and we're missing it!"
That earned her a raised eyebrow, oddly reminiscent of Snape's trademark disdain. "Bit blood-thirsty, are you? And when did you all learn to Apparate?"
"Jealous?" asked Ginny, quite accurately. "Dumbledore had a lot of the sixth-year class and most of the prefects start taking the class just a few months ago. I'm not up to solo Apparating yet, but really, Fawkes did all the work. I just did the spell."
"I had to drop out of the class," Hermione said with a sniff, absently rubbing her aching abdomen. "And here you are, taking it before me."
"Well, you can't take a chance of getting splinched, can you? Don't worry, you'll have that baby soon, then you can take all the lessons you want."
Hermione frowned and shifted her weight. "Ginny... I may be taking those lessons sooner than you think."
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked absently, still shredding the hapless piece of grass and staring out over the endless grass.
Hermione let out a small gasp as the full body ache that had been bothering her for some time abruptly coalesced in her back. "I think I'm in labor."
"What!? No, you can't be. Not now, for heaven's sake! You're not due yet!"
"I've had a very trying morning!" Hermione tried to joke, but the ache prevented her, robbing her of breath. "Help me sit up."
Ginny did as she was asked, but let out a horrified exclamation as she moved the cloak the two of them had been sitting on. "Hermione, you're bleeding!"
Feeling the fabric, then inspecting her hand, the older girl shook her head. "It's not blood. It's amniotic fluid. My water's broken."
"Really? What's it like?"
Hermione paused while the contraction slowly eased. "It feels like I've wet myself."
"And you've only just now noticed?" Ginny demanded.
"I thought the pain was just an after-effect of the Avada Kedavra!" she explained. "How are we going to get back to Hogwarts in time? What am I saying-we can't go to Hogwarts, there's a battle going on there. I don't even know where we are!"
"We're in Wales, somewhere. Professor Dumbledore said they thought you'd been taken to Malfoy Manor at first, but even Lucius Malfoy isn't that stupid. Wasn't, I mean," she amended, noting the still form of the deceased Death Eater.
"Bloody hell," Hermione cursed vehemently. "Well, let's get going. I can have this baby in a Muggle hospital just as well as at Hogwarts." With Ginny's help, she managed to stand up, and held the damp fabric of her dress away from her with distaste. She took several decisive steps before noticing Ginny had not followed. "Well? Which way?"
Ginny bit her lip. "Herm, I don't know how to tell you this... we're miles from any village."
Hermione stared at her, appalled, until another contraction bent her double.
Ginny sprang forward and put a supporting arm around her. "Tell you what. Let's just get you a bit further away from here," she said, with a nod towards the body lying on the grass. "We'll get you comfortable, and wait and see what happens. My mum says it takes ages to have a baby. Someone's bound to come back for us before too long."
"Let's just hope it's someone from our side," Hermione joked feebly. Her breath caught in a sob. "Oh, Gods, Ginny. This can't be happening now. It just can't!" The contraction argued that yes, it could. "What am I going to do?"
Accustomed to Hermione being the bossy one in their friendship, Ginny was momentarily at a loss for words. But if nothing else, Ginny was Molly Weasley's daughter. "Well," she said reasonably, "I think we're going to have a baby."
*****
Just as they had some hours ago, the five wizards appeared at the same time and immediately took a defensive position. This time, however, the view between the winged boar gateposts that framed the broad entrance to Hogwarts was not empty. Under the bright June sun, perfect for weddings and summer picnics, black and gray robed figures were scattered across the green lawn.
"The wards are all down," Severus noticed instantly. "A secondary set of spells should have been triggered around the castle itself if Voldemort overcame the Apparation barrier."
"Something's happened to Albus, hasn't it?" Sirius asked, and Snape nodded sharply as he looked out over the lawn.
With a sharp musical cry, Fawkes launched himself off Harry's shoulder and winged out over the battlefield, for a battle it was. Spells flared on the broad lawn, dark figures struggling in knots as curses and hexes flew like leaves in a high wind. Harry thought he recognized several of the Aurors from the Hogsmeade patrol among the scattered combatants fighting against the Death Eaters.
"Well, Potter, 'bout time you showed up," sneered a familiar voice. Draco Malfoy jogged up from the narrow avenue between the castle and the high outer wall, the same avenue Severus had led Hermione through on the day he'd taken her shopping in Diagon Alley. Behind him was a straggle of sixth and seventh-year students, chiefly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Among them, surprisingly, was Neville Longbottom, and even more surprisingly, the large form of Gregory Goyle.
"Why aren't you locked up?" Ron asked hotly.
"Because I'm leading the charge of the lame brigade," Draco answered in his usual bored, jeering voice, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the twenty or more students behind him.
"Draco's apparently a sleeper agent," answered Dean Thomas, who'd read far too many espionage books during his summers home with his Muggle family. "He got all the Slytherins worked up, well some of them, anyway," he amended, after taking a look at Goyle's thunderous expression, "and said as how he was going to go out and help the Death Eaters. And no sooner do they all get excited the git tried to take them out by himself. If Neville hadn't figured it out, they'd have had his goolies on toast."
The young Slytherin rolled his eyes at the idea of owing his continued existence to Neville Longbottom and although Severus was inclined to agree with that sentiment, it wasn't entirely impossible. The awkward boy had matured into a cautious young man with a knack for understanding people's motivations, if only because he was accustomed to being picked upon by his classmates.
Harry gave Draco a long, measuring look, under which the Slytherin waited, without squirming, to see if Harry would correct Dean's assumption. Severus made no effort to interfere; this was Harry's battle and it was his decision to make. Almost deliberately, Harry turned towards the other students and made no indication that Draco's intentions had ever been anything but pure.
"So we decided we'd come out and do the same thing, only for Professor Dumbledore's side," Neville finished, his eyes wide but not stuttering as usual. "Terry Boot and some of the others stayed behind to take care of the younger students and keep an eye on the Slytherins."
"Hey," rumbled Goyle, a puzzled frown on his slab-like face. "Aren't you Sirius Black?"
Sirius nodded, noting the apprehension on the other students' faces. "Yes. And I'm Harry's godfather."
Goyle thought about this for a moment before shrugging one massive shoulder as he ignored the convoluted implications; he was and always had been a follower and he would follow Draco Malfoy until it got him killed. His own reluctance to follow his father into the Death Eaters had caused him several moments of uneasiness, but his delay in joining the other Slytherins earlier in the day had left him exactly where he preferred to be - following Draco Malfoy.
"What happened to you?" Ron asked Seamus, who bore a large red mark on his face.
"Lavender," he answered briefly. "I told her she couldn't come with us, and she got a bit upset."
"So Romeo here puts her in a full body bind and props her in the corner," Draco finished with a nasty grin. "If she ever does marry him, he's going to be sleeping on the sofa for the first five years."
"We'll worry about our love lives some other time," Severus interrupted, the acid tone in his voice cutting through the young men's nervous banter with ease. "Where's Voldemort?"
The nervous students settled immediately under the lash of Professor Snape's sarcasm, and their sense of purpose hardened. Draco pointed over the sloping lawn, where one figure in the midst of a sea of black robes stood slightly taller than the rest. The Dark Lord was watching the slow advance of his forces against the powerful charms and shielding spells thrown up by the teaching staff of Hogwarts. On the ground beside him, in a heap like so much forgotten washing, was Albus Dumbledore.
"All right," Harry said firmly. "The far side of the castle is bound almost entirely by the lake. The squid will take care of anyone coming up that way, that's what he's for. Who here can Apparate?"
Draco and the rest of the seventh-years raised their hands, except for Neville who still hadn't caught on to the finer details. One of the sixth- year prefects also raised her hand. Harry couldn't remember the Ravenclaw's name, but she had a stubborn chin and a dangerous look in her eye. Next to her, Colin Creevey toyed with his camera before tucking it carefully into the pocket of his robes, for once having the sense to not document the moment for posterity.
"Here's the plan. I want everyone who can do so to Apparate to the far side of the lawn, over by Hagrid's hut, and work your way back towards the center. Do what you can to pick off any Death Eaters on the fringes and try to keep them from flanking Professor McGonagall. Don't take too many chances, however." One and all they ignored him, and he knew it, but did not call them on it. This would be a battle of historical proportions, and everyone present knew the odds were against them. Caution was not part of their marching orders. "Draco - you're in charge."
"Right," Draco answered, swallowing hard and for once without a smart remark. Severus put his hand on Draco's shoulder and the younger wizard looked at him, his ice-blue eyes white rimmed with shock at Harry's gesture of trust. Severus' black eyes held nothing but understanding - he'd once been given trust he hadn't deserved, and had spent the next fifteen years trying to be worthy of it. Just like his mentor had done with Severus, Harry was giving Draco the chance to redeem himself.
Draco frowned suddenly. "Was. well, you didn't kill me, so I guess Granger's all right?"
"Lucius tried to kill her," Severus told him uncompromisingly. "Your father's dead." Draco swallowed again and nodded his head once, controlling his breathing with some effort, but appeared to be almost as relieved as he was dismayed.
"Those who can't Apparate, I want to go directly up the hill to support McGonagall. The Death Eathers won't take you seriously, and by the time they do you should have made it to the front steps. And all of you - remember one thing. Don't hesitate, and don't try to play fair. You're stronger together than you are separately, so don't try to take on anyone in single combat. Watch out for each other."
"What are you going to do?" asked Susan Bones, her reddish hair reminding Harry rather painfully of Ginny.
"I'm going to kill Voldemort," he said in a voice that held no doubt whatsoever.
"Wearing that?" Draco scoffed at the Quidditch gear Harry still wore from his early morning practice. "He'll see you coming a mile away."
"Why not?" Harry returned with a grim smile. "They've always brought me luck against you."
Draco made a sour face, but said nothing further as he gestured to the dozen or so older students before pulling out his wand to Apparate.
Dean and Neville led the rest of the students past the shrubbery that clogged the edge of the lawn, and with one look back, began to make their way towards the embattled professors defending the main entrance to Hogwarts.
With Harry in the lead, Severus, Remus, Sirius and Ron struck out on an angle that would lead them directly behind the main body of Death Eaters. Their rapid progress caught several Death Eaters unawares and stunned them before they could raise any alarm. Severus knew they had at the most only a minute or two before the main group of the enemy would notice their little band. They passed several already stunned Death Eaters, lying in close proximity to a middle-aged witch and a younger wizard wearing the same practical, nondescript robes typical to the Aurors. The young man's chest still rose and fell, and would presumably live until the end of the battle, to be either aided or dispatched by the victors, depending on the outcome.
As they skirted another knot of subsided violence, Severus heard Harry inhale sharply. Before them, face down on the grass, lay the motionless form of Rubeus Hagrid. A fair number of dark-robed figures lay scattered about, some of them lying like disjointed dolls around the beaten half- giant. Judging from the tableau, the groundskeeper had gone berserk when Dumbledore had fallen and had waded into the ranks of Death Eaters with devastating effect until he was felled at last by multiple hexes. Faithful to the end, the enormous hound Fang sat mournfully beside Hagrid's corpse.
Harry took one step towards the body of his oldest friend, then stopped. "Come, Fang," Harry commanded, his voice barely wobbling. The hound hesitated, then lurched to his feet and joined their small group.
In a wedge, the five of them forced their way through the battle, aiding the few Aurors who remained standing. One or two Death Eaters at the fringe of the crowd around Voldemort turned to see the approaching group, and they quickly called their lord's attention to Harry's approach.
Across the lawn, the defending staff members took advantage of the sudden lull and forced their way further down the slope of the hill towards Voldemort and the fallen headmaster. Leading the assorted professors was Minerva McGonagall. Somewhere along the way she'd lost both her hat and her glasses, and her neatly bound hair had come down in straggles over her shoulders, but she had a clan tartan thrown over one shoulder and she looked every bit as fierce as her Highland forbears. The only thing missing was a stripe of blue face paint running from her hairline to her chin.
Coming up beside the professors were the students who had left with Dean and Neville, joining ranks with the defenders. Dean had one arm around Susan Bones' shoulders, leaning heavily on the younger girl but his wand at the ready as he limped behind his teachers.
From the west, Draco Malfoy and his handful of students forged up the last few yards. Goyle held a hand to a nasty wound on his forehead, but his brain was hardly a vital organ. Several others showed signs of hard wear, but their expressions were universally set and determined. The Death Eaters solidified their line but unconsciously drew back from the additional threat; no matter how used they were to dispensing pain and suffering to their victims, they had little experience with a concerted, organized resistance.
"TOM RIDDLE!" shouted Harry, pointing his wand at the wizard.
Silver masks gleaming in the sunlight, the Death Eaters parted to reveal their master, drawing around him in eddies of black and gray. The clear area immediately behind the Dark Lord included the crumpled body of the headmaster, but Harry could afford to do no more than glance at the elderly wizard and could not tell whether he was dead or alive.
"Harry Potter," hissed the dark wizard slowly. His white, reptilian hands rose and pushed back the hood of his dark robes, revealing his bony, repulsive countenance. "My dear boy. You don't know how glad I am to see you. And on your feet, for once. It's about time. It simply wouldn't do for everyone to see you die on your knees."
Despite the confident words, Severus knew Voldemort better than almost anyone, and he detected the faint signs of fatigue and stress around the red eyes. Dumbledore had not been easily defeated, and Voldemort would have had to expend a great deal of energy and magic to do so. Severus felt sure that the confrontation with Harry Potter was coming much sooner than the almost immortal wizard had planned or was ready for.
"He wasn't expecting you," he murmured in an undertone to Harry. "You were supposed to spend most of today chasing Malfoy, and give him time to gain control of everything here. He's off balance." The young wizard jerked his head in a short nod, acknowledging the words without taking his attention off his adversary.
Voldemort's red eyes flicked to the men standing beside Harry. "Severus," he ground out in quiet menace. "I'll deal with you later.
"I've already taken care of my greatest adversary," Voldemort continued, gesturing to the silver-haired wizard lying dead or unconscious on the ground, "and only you remain, Harry Potter. Son of my enemy, heir of Gryffindor," he spat out contemptuously. "You come before me with nothing but your toy sword and a pathetic assortment of allies. If you had the slightest sense you would flee to the ends of the earth and cower in fear for the paltry remains of your days."
"You should have gone into theatre," Harry said abruptly. "You're worse than Gilderoy Lockhart."
The abrupt sniggers of Remus and Sirius were too much for Severus to keep a straight face; he too grinned inappropriately at the comparison. Suddenly the group of wizards in their black robes and silver masks seemed patently absurd; it was a midsummer day and he could feel a trickle of sweat making its way down his back, and see a similar trail running behind Harry's ear. The Death Eaters would be keeling over from heat exhaustion before long.
Voldemort's face twisted in abrupt rage and his wand swung towards Harry with decisive killing force.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, getting the words out a hair before Voldemort finished his "AVADA KADAVRA!"
As they had before, the two brother wands connected, their respective spells lost in the clash of power. This time, however, no golden cage formed around the combatants. Splinters of gold appeared and dissipated in the air around them, sometimes to quickly to be seen, and during it all the golden thread which stretched from each wand tip grew thicker in the center. First one, then another ball of light formed on that thread, then more. Like beads on a cord they moved back and forth, growing larger and larger, glowing brighter.
Harry took a faltering step forward, then another, only peripherally aware of Severus and Sirius at his back, keeping pace. The golden balls grew in size and intensity as they slid between the wands of the Boy Who Lived and He Who Must Not Be Named. Harry staggered forwards another step, and a high, clear note began to sing from the golden thread, filling the ear and sliding down until the jaws began to ache.
The cord between Harry and Voldemort solidified and grew thicker as the young man fought to advance, becoming rope-like, then a solid beam bigger than a man's arm. The luminous balls coalesced, merging with each other into a single globe that grew in size and brightness until it became hard to see anything but the light and the silhouetted black forms of the dueling wizards.
Harry and Voldemort let out simultaneous yells as the phoenix song suddenly rose into a high scream and their wands erupted into flames. The gigantic ball of power between them disintegrated, throwing out waves of golden sparkles that glowed brighter than the overhead sun before falling to the ground like cinders.
With a snarl, Voldemort cast aside the handful of ashy splinters that remained in his scaly white fingers before those same fingers dove inside his robes and came up with another wand. Severus swore silently - hadn't he and Dumbledore squirreled away several found wands, yet blithely assumed there was time after Graduation to get Harry another wand?
The new wand, however, was quickly shown to be less than compatible and Voldemort's face twisted in aggravation as it hesitated before discharging. The fragment of delay allowed Severus and Sirius to cast spells at the same moment, blocking the curse flung at Harry.
One part of Severus' mind heard Remus Lupin cry out in pain as a Death Eater hit him with a painful curse as the battle erupted all around. Although Voldemort's followers were technically surrounded, they still outnumbered the castle's defenders by more than two to one. From the corner of his eye Severus saw Ron Weasley give Remus a hand up as the younger man cast a rather vicious hex in return.
Most of his focus, however, remained on the lithe figure of Harry Potter as the young man fought his way towards the murderous wizard standing just a few lengths away, staggering as he absorbed the hexes he could not dodge or Severus and Sirius could not block, catching more than one on the blade of the sword and somehow parrying them, sending the offensive magic skittering off on odd and dangerous tangents. By sheer force of will, the two older wizards kept pace with Harry as he closed in on the Dark Lord. In an unspoken accord, Sirius and Severus devoted their entire attention to defending Harry, and in turn Ron and Remus did all they could to protect those two wizards from the hail of spells flying in all directions on the field.
Voldemort howled with rage as the uncooperative wand in his hand continued to balk at his mastery, interfering with his aim and hesitating at inopportune moments. Arrogance and the press of his own followers at his back kept Voldemort from retreating as Harry raised the silver sword and swung wildly, the tip of the blade tearing the wand from the white hand and snapping it in two.
The Death Eaters gave ground as their leader snarled at them to get out of the way, allowing Voldemort to backpedal a few steps as he fumbled in his robes once more, reaching for yet another wand.
Voldemort was a powerful wizard, older than many on the field, and nearly immortal. However, his stolen body could not match the reflexes of a seventeen-year-old Quidditch fanatic, and he was physically incapable of dodging as Harry Potter brought Godric Gryffindor's sword up and lunged forward with all his might.
A scream tore from the Dark Lord's thin lips, his voice echoing across the battlefield as the sword grated against his ribs. The reptilian face twisted in agony and disbelief as Harry thrust the sword deeper. Almost as one, the incredulous Death Eaters and their equally shocked opponents halted their conflict to see Voldemort sag to his knees before Harry.
Severus could just make out the movement of Harry's mouth as he chanted a spell, but the majority of the spell was in the hissing syllables of Parseltongue. The few wisps of Latin he caught were not anything that had been taught in classes, though the verb for binding was clear, and the sword in Harry's hands began to burn a bright white. The sunlight, however, seemed to fade as the spell drew power from the very air around it, sucked in until the battlefield grew dim and Severus strained to see anything but the encompassing darkness and the brilliant white length of steel. The light coalesced and then suddenly went out.
Instantly, a cold, searing pain went through Severus' left arm. He never heard Remus call his name, or the startled shouts of the Hogwarts defenders.