Disclaimer: As sad as it makes me, there characters, places and everything else connected to the Harry Potter books are not fruits of my own limited fantasy. No, the fantastic J.K.Rowling made them all up. I just wish I had a fraction of her talent…
A/N: Well, this is it. The final chapter. Before you move on to reading this, please retain in mind, that THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER THAN THE ONES I HAVE WRITTEN BEFORE. There will be deaths of some essential characters of this story in this chapter. Read only if you think that you are strong enough to handle this.
Many thanks to my wonderful betas Luinthoron and *~*Dy*~* and Puzzler for their help, I really appreciated it. And I wouldn't have been able to write it to the end, if not for you all. All the reviewers, thank you very much for your support. It's good to write if you know, that people really read your work :).
This last chapter was beta-read only by Luinthoron. I've been waiting for for two and a half months to get the beta-ed file back from *~*Dy*~*, but as I still haven't got it, I decided to post it now anyway. It's been already too long, hasn't it? And it IS the final chapter!
--Altair
Chapter Fifteen: Finale
The next day passed like a blur. Professor Dumbledore sent word to everyone in the resistance to organise the school's defence. He also tried to get help from the Ministry. That's when Minister Fudge really exploded. After he had heard, how they had received the information about the forthcoming attack, he not only refused to send any help, their argument about the reliability of Harry as a source of information reached the dimensions where the Minister of Magic threatened to order the school board to disengage Dumbledore and to have him sent to St Mungo's. Unnecessary to say, they didn't part on very friendly terms. More accurately, they had never parted ways on more belligerent terms. There was not enough time to evacuate the school. They would have needed to know about the oncoming attack sooner, to have the train ready. That meant that the students were all going to be at school on the time of the attack. That, too, troubled Dumbledore a lot. Hogwarts might be one of the safest places on Earth, but he still would have preferred to meet a direct attack on it without any students there to get hurt. There was, of course the advantage of being able to engage volunteering sixth and seventh years' students on the defence, but he was more than worried about the younger students. Many of them would overestimate their knowledge and power and try and join the battle, others would surely panic and try to escape – and run right into the arms of Voldemort's troops. How was he supposed to defend the school if he didn't even know from where Tom would attack? He knew, when the attack would occur, but he was still not able to satisfactorily organise the defences as he didn't know where exactly to place his little army. It looked as if he would be forced to place defenders scattered all over the school, which would reduce the defence ability in all massively. After all – the defence line would be able to form normally only after the battle – and it promised to become one – had already begun, for the defenders would have to rush to the place the attack took place from all over the school. There was no telling just how much this uncertainty would move the scales in Lord Voldemort's behalf. Needless to say, that the old Professor hadn't been this worried for a very long time.
Lord Voldemort was sitting in the same blood-red chair as always, when he arrived. The room was as dark as ever with the curtains drawn and the only source of light being the lighted fireplace. Arthur remembered when he was here the first time. It had been just a few days after the man in that chair had saved his life. It had been the first time he had ever considered working with and for the Dark Lord. That time, Lord Voldemort had opened his eyes to the problems of wizardkind. To the weakening of the wizard blood because of intermarriages with Muggles and Mudbloods, to the threat the Muggles would someday turn out to be, should they discover that magic exists, just because there was more Muggles than wizards. There had once been a time when Arthur had really liked the Muggles and he had really been interested in Muggle artefacts. And even though dealing with those had become disgusting for him, he still managed to uphold the image of an Muggle-obsessed poor wizard just to help the Dark Lord on achieving his ultimate goal – freeing the world from these lower creatures that were also called Muggles. There was also the issue of Mudbloods. They were magical, after all. But still, that didn't mean that they would have to be allowed to stick up their noses the way they did. No, the Mudbloods, if allowed to live, would become a lower class of workers. They would not be allowed to marry Pureblood wizards in order not to weaken their blood lines, they would have to find their partners for life in their own ranks, remove all children with no magical powers and maybe someday, generations away, when they had managed to produce fully magical clans, their successors would be allowed to have relationships with older families and get better jobs. This was going to be the future. A future for wizardkind, where wizards would not have to hide themselves from the world. A world he was going to help to build.
"My Lord." Arthur bowed his head towards the man in the chair from the shadows. Even though the man almost never faced him in this room, he still seemed to know every move he made in here. It was somehow creepy and reassuring on the same time. Like there was at least one thing in the world that you could always count on.
"I was expecting you," the man in the chair answered. He did not stand up nor did he turn around. He just continued to observe the flames in the fireplace – an obsession of his Arthur had never quite understood, even though he too seemed to like the fire. The fire… Maybe this was the reason he had acted in Arthur's behalf that time. Maybe it had been because Arthur reminded him of the fire with his flaming red hair? Had this been the reason he had first thought it a shame that such a wizard was a loyal member of Dumbledore's Resistance? Had this been the reason he had saved this man from grave danger to lure him over to his side. Maybe, but maybe not. This man was worthy of being considered a friend, unlike most of his Death Eaters. Most of them were just hungry for power and wanted their fun with the Mudbloods and Muggles, having no brains and creativity on their own. There were only few that really had earned his respect. The ones that had suffered in Azkaban all these years because they had been proud about the fact that they had been Death Eaters, for example. But there was only one he would call a friend and mean it. And that was the man behind him in the shadows. The one who was loyal, but had always a brain and who knew how to use it, the one who could fool Dumbledore himself. Silence was spreading out around the room. Neither man said anything, they were both just looking into the flames from their respective places, Arthur trying to think of a good way to place his request, Lord Voldemort just waiting for the other man to start speaking.
"I know why you came," he said finally, when the room had been silent for about five minutes. Arthur looked away from the fire, to the chair that was occupied by his Lord. "I know what you are going to ask. I can't say I'm surprised, though."
There was something about the Dark Lord. Something not every man was capable of. He always made you feel as if he had known what you were going to do, even before you had decided to do that yourself. Even more. He made you feel as if he had not only known you would do that, but as if he had planned for you to do that himself. Arthur had not been summoned here, today. He had also not set word about his coming and yet the Dark Lord seemed to have known exactly when he would arrive in the shadows of this old room. Some of the Death Eaters found it highly irritating, but it also held them in line. Well, maybe he just did know each and every one of his Death Eaters better than they did themselves…
Arthur looked away from the fire, in the direction where his Lord was sitting. His Lord had never used that particular merit of his on him before. He had heard that the Dark Lord was able to "read minds" as some people liked to put it, but he had never seen it himself. He was somewhat taken aback by those words, but he pulled himself together in a fraction of a moment. "Very well, then, my Lord. In that case, I would like to ask about your answer. Am I permitted, then?" he asked. Well, that wasn't exactly the first time he had come to his Lord with this particular request. The answer had always been no, but he never gave up hope, that his Lord would change his mind someday. About a battle. Well, he already knew what his Lord would answer, but it didn't hurt to at least try.
"Very well, if this battle is dominated by us, you can," came the voice of the Dark Lord from the enormous chair.
Arthur almost choked. He had been sure his request would be rejected as always. This time, it took him several minutes to recover from the surprising answer. He took a deep bow in the direction of his Lord. "Thank you, my Lord."
"But don't forget. On one condition only," the Dark Lord reminded him again to make sure he had really understood the permission in whole. "Only if it is clear that Dumbledore's Resistance is going down."
The sun was setting on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The setting sun had never before faced the school this silent. There were no students hurrying to their dormitories after hours, no teachers rushing in the direction of their rooms, even Peeves seemed to have decided that this night was not meant for his pranks and he was nowhere to be seen. There were some people all around the school, standing in small groups, but they were so quiet one could have heard a needle fall. The air was filled with suspense, the people in the school, no matter whether in common rooms, dormitories or standing in small groups in the corridors, were all filled with the same tension. Every person in the school, even the ghosts, was listening even to the smallest noises to determine the direction of the coming attack, but all they could hear was their own breath in this silence. Not one of them even dared to move, not to accidentally make some noises to mislead the others. Even the ever so nosy cat of caretaker Filch, Mrs Norris seemed to have disappeared somewhere. Not that anybody would have cared about this. There were worries enough without having to find a cowardly cat. And most of the people who had had experience with the cat in their own schooldays (and the current students of sixth and seventh years) were more than happy to be able to walk the corridors without the sneaky cat right behind them. Not that they'd been walking, but it was still good to know to be able to.
The last sunbeams were dying away behind the Forbidden Forest. Then, there was silence. Utter and total silence in almost complete darkness as the old mood had almost disappeared into nothingness. And yet another minute in silence went by, the people in the castle wondering, whether the information about an attack at sundown was really correct. And then, the front doors burst open. No-one had seen Lord Voldemort's army to arrive at the door. No-one had reported an army of this size to be spotted walking the grounds of Hogwarts and yet, there they were. The wizards and witches and all the creatures Voldemort had managed to convince. And their numbers were really something. None of the people in the castle had been expecting this. There was also no reason to be wondering why the doors had given up so easily. In the front, one could see a really big foot. Somewhere near it should have been also the other one, but one could not see it properly if looking through the door. One of the giants had just kicked the doors open.
For one moment, no-one moved. And then, as if a dam had broken, the battle arose. The first group of defenders, the ones standing at the door, was easily defeated. They had been too surprised to even react. But everyone in the castle had heard the doors being kicked open and the whole army of the Resistance was now hurrying in the direction of the Entrance Hall. And, unknown to anyone else, another person was heading in the same direction, well covered by his invisibility cloak. That, of course was no other than Harry Potter. As the guardians of the Houses had been given order not to open for anyone besides sixth and seventh years, he had sneaked out behind Fred and George, wearing his cloak and had been hiding from the defence groups in an empty classroom. He had felt the need to be part of this battle. Somehow, he still felt responsible and felt the need to atone himself at least in his own eyes by fighting this battle. He was sure, that no-one would think of sending him back to the Gryffindor tower once the battle was already going on. After all, he had faced the threat named Lord Voldemort (or Tom Riddle) numerous times before and he had always come out of it on top. Well, maybe it was pure luck that he did, but still, he had the experience of fighting Lord Voldemort unlike the sixth and seventh years, even though he was still in his fifth.
Remus was facing a young boy of about sixteen years, one of his own students. One of his favourite ones, too. One, who really understood the meaning of the Dark Arts and who had been one of his top sixth years. And who was now fighting for Dumbledore, who was fighting against him. Well, he really liked the boy. There weren't that many young people talented in the Arts and the Defence. But it had to be. He had to erase this talent for his Lord. Well, he was going to make it a quick death for the boy, not because he would have preferred quick killing but because he respected his enemy and didn't want to torture him. He raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" The boy's eyes were full of surprise the moment he died. Remus turned to face his next opponent, but in the same moment, he was hit by a curse from behind. He hadn't seen the curse coming. One of his fellow Death Eaters had dodged a curse, but he had been so caught up in his own fight that he hadn't noticed anything that went on around him. He fell to the ground, his head hitting the floor, hard. For a moment, everything went black. And then, he could see more clearly than he had seen for months. He could see what he had been and what he had become. What he had allowed to be made out of him. He, one of the best friends of James Potter and a loyal helper of Dumbledore had let himself be used. Used as a spy against Dumbledore. Used to spy after James' son. Used to kill his own students... No! This couldn't be happening. This was impossible! But yet he knew that it was true. He had become a tool for Voldemort to be used against Dumbledore, to be used to steal Harry's memories. And he had killed an innocent boy. He had killed an innocent boy for Lord Voldemort! He had used an Unforgivable to do that, too. How would he ever be able to look at himself in a mirror after what he had done? He had killed, just for the fun of it. He remembered the woman who had helped him after he had lost his memory. And he had paid for her assistance by killing her. He had tortured Muggles and Muggle-borns... Remus opened his eyes. He was not worthy of anyone's forgiveness. And there was only one thing he could do to even barely make up for all he had done. He raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" His hand fell to the ground next to his lifeless body, still clutching the wand witch was directed at himself.
The enemy troops had already managed to get deeper into the castle. There were battle noises coming from everywhere. Harry was hurrying towards the Great Hall, hoping to be able to help. He had already pocketed his invisibility cloak. It was great for sneaking around, but it seemed to get in one's way once one was in a hurry. The wand drawn, he moved towards the open doors. There were people in there, he could see. People fighting each other to the death. And there were many of them. He could see Professor Dumbledore fighting three Death Eaters at the same time. Harry stopped only for a moment before rushing into the battle himself. He started to hurl curses and hexes at Death Eaters, tried to disarm them, dodging spells on the same time. Somewhere on his left he saw four Death Eaters surrounding Professor Snape. Harry was not sure if he should be angry or glad about that. Sure, Professor Snape lived to make his life Hell, but he still was a loyal member of the Resistance and had put his own life on the line of fire, spying on Lord Voldemort. Not hesitating another moment, Harry shot another curse aiming for the Death Eaters surrounding the nasty Professor. But he was not given time to see, if he was successful. There was already a masked Death Eater before him. He did not recognise the voice, but he could almost hear the sneer on his face. "Look at that, if this isn't the Potter boy... Master will be very pleased to hear about your passing..." And he shot the Cruciatus Curse at Harry. The boy only barely managed to duck the curse. Somewhere behind him, he heard someone scream out in pain. The curse that had missed him had found another victim. Who, Harry did not know. He didn't have time to turn and look, he had to concentrate fully fighting and surviving. Somewhere further on his right he heard people exult. Most of the people risked a peek in the direction of the jubilant noises, and were struck by horror. Harry, too looked in this direction and would almost have been hit by a curse for he completely forgot about defending himself at the view he saw. He had managed to look just in time to see Dumbledore fall. Forgetting all about where and when he was, he started running toward the old wizard, covering the space between them in no time at all, not wanting to believe the obvious. He was searching for a pulse, for some signs of life, not even noticing the fact that most of the Resistance was now trying to protect him from the curses of the Death Eaters. Someone took his hand and dragged him away from the lifeless body of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry looked up and met the warm and worried eyes of his foster father. He started struggling.
"We must go back! Professor Dumbledore needs our help! Can't you see, we can't just leave him lying there, they will kill him!" Harry cried, but Arthur just shook his head sadly.
"There's nothing we can do for him, anymore, Harry. He's dead and so will be you if you go back there now. Didn't you see how everyone was trying to protect your life as you were sitting by Dumbledore? How they started fighting without thinking, getting cursed in return. You're a symbol of freedom to them, and they will all get killed if you go and put your life on risk. Do you really want to do that?!"
Harry shook his head and followed Mr Weasley through the corridors, his mind racing. Professor Dumbledore was dead. The only person Lord Voldemort had ever feared had fallen. What were they going to do?
There seemed to be fighting all around them. They were headed for the Gryffindor common room, but when they heard fighting noises from right in front of them, Arthur led them to an empty classroom in the hope that no-one would discover them, Harry was sure. He would have been sure of it anyway, but the fact that Mr. Weasley pulled him into the classroom whispering "We better hide in here until they move on with the fighting. There's no need for you to get yourself killed!" was reassuring, too. He followed his stepfather into the dark room and they sat down on the farthest side of the room. The fighting went on and on for hours. Harry could hear people cry in agony. Were they Death Eaters or were they on his side? He could not tell for sure. The voices were too many for him to tell them apart.
Harry didn't know for how long they had been hiding in this classroom by now. Minutes? Hours? Days? He had already lost the track of time. How were the others? Had the Death Eaters reached the Houses? He really hoped that his friends were safe, but as for now, he certainly couldn't be sure of anything. Finally, the voices seemed to move away from their hideout, yet even more minutes passed before they finally dared to peek out of the door to see if the air was clean. The sight that awaited them was far from pleasant. There were Death Eaters and people from the Resistance lying dead on the floor, their bodies disfigured from all the curses they had been hit with. It was awful. Harry noticed that Mr Weasley was scanning the bodies even more carefully than he did. Something in the back of his mind reminded him that the twins, as seventh years, had also been engaged in the battle. He wondered if they were all right. They just had to be! But there was no time for wondering. Harry's stepfather already grabbed him by the hand and dragged him off in the direction of the dormitories, in the direction of safety.
They were running, trying to make it directly to the Gryffindor House. Harry was panting heavily from running up and down the changing stairs that seemed to have decided that he would not make it back there. Why was it that the school seemed to run rampant, too, whenever the situation was out of order?! But despite the spiteful stairs they made it to the right corridor. Relief and tiredness from running let them slow down the pace when they could already see the Fat Lady. Harry was so tired that he only wished to rest, but he was not sure he would be able to, regarding that the battle was still going on and he did not know who was on the winning side...
And then, they froze. Something appeared just before the Portrait hole. Something... or someone. Harry screamed. He had dreamt of this person ever so often, but it was still horrifying to be confronted with a real Lord Voldemort. Not to forget that his scar was hurting so much that he thought his head would explode. All of this took no longer than a fraction of a moment. Then, they stood, wands out, two wands directed at the Dark Lord, one at the fifteen-years old boy whose only crime had been to survive a death attack by the Dark Lord. There was a strange silence hanging in the air around them. Not one of them moved. Had someone looked at them this moment, he'd thought he'd be looking at statues or wax-figures.
Arthur was the one to break the silence at last. "You don't really think that you will get a chance to kill him, do you? You know as well as I do that as soon as you take a shot at whichever one of us, the other'll curse you. Why don't you just lay your wand down and spare us all of this experience?"
The Dark Lord's face bared confusion and hurt. "Oh, it's this way, then? And there I thought the boy and Dumbledore meant nothing to you…"
Harry was now looking from one to the other, looking very much confused. What were they talking about? Had Arthur been a spy for Dumbledore, too? It certainly looked this way. But he did not ask. He had to fight the horrific headache to be able to concentrate.
"Oh, well, you don't honestly think that I would betray someone I admire this much?" Arthur continued. "Of course not! I would never betray someone I consider a real friend. There aren't that many people who'd I refer to as such, who are almost closer than my own family for me. I won't let such people get killed by anyone, especially by you. Avada Kedavra!"
The spell hit Harry, who had not noticed that Arthur had turned on him by his last words, completely by surprise. Arthur looked up from the boy's body and smirked. "He trusted me right to his death, didn't he? Stupid boy."
The face of Lord Voldemort was unreadable. Arthur had, once again, really proved his acting talent. Even he, the Dark Lord himself, had been convinced for a moment. He reached out a hand. "Well, you certainly managed to get the job that all my Death Eaters have failed, done. Well done, my friend."
The battle went on until early hours, but not long before sunrise, the school was forced to surrender. The first rays of the sun painted Hogwarts' windows red, giving the old castle the look of being in flames. The Death Eaters and their allies were gathered at the castle steps, waiting for their leader, Lord Voldemort. This was his big moment. And he was going to enjoy it.
He emerged from the castle to once more stand in front of his followers. He knew that this was expected from him and he wouldn't have had it any other way. He looked over the people gathered, and opened his mouth.
"This is the beginning of a new world. A world of magic and magical creatures. A world that's free of Muggles, in which we can act freely with no need to hide. It's the beginning of our liberation. You all can be proud of having been a part of it, as you will continue to be as long as this fight for our freedom will last. There are still many who are too brainwashed to even want to be liberated from the bounds and boundaries we have been forced to live in because of the Muggles. I am sure, that many of them will soon enough realise that all of this is in their best interest, too, and they will join our ranks. As for this long, we will have to continue fighting. Some of our most famous opponents have already fallen. I was glad to hear that the traitor Snape had been punished, the message about Dumbledore's death also pleased me. Dumbledore has always been one of the greatest supporters of Muggles and has always helped in depressing our community. He has always been a symbol of Muggle- and Mudblood-lovers of our kind. With his death, we have set a sample. But there is one more famous opponent of ours who has found his death this night. Harry Potter was killed right outside the Gryffindor Tower. I am sure you all wonder who was the one who managed to complete the task that so many have attempted before and never succeeded. I'm sure you all know my most loyal follower for 18 years…" with these words, he opened the doors once again allowing Arthur to step outside and come to stand beside him. This was his reward. For the first time, he was being recognised as his Lord's follower among the Dark Lord's other, very surprised adherents. This was what he had always been working towards. He was officially on Lord Voldemort's side now.
The End
A/N: So, this is it. No more Spy. I hope you liked it. As for the ones who have asked me if there is going to be a sequel – I think you all can see that there is no way for a sequel for this story, as I killed off most of the main characters and Arthur's person is no more secret, either. I still hope you enjoyed reading this. Well, let me know what you thought of the story. It's the very last chapter so please, if you haven't reviewed before, do it now and even if you have, I'll be glad to hear what you thought of it. So please, please review.
--Altair
A/N: Well, this is it. The final chapter. Before you move on to reading this, please retain in mind, that THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER THAN THE ONES I HAVE WRITTEN BEFORE. There will be deaths of some essential characters of this story in this chapter. Read only if you think that you are strong enough to handle this.
Many thanks to my wonderful betas Luinthoron and *~*Dy*~* and Puzzler for their help, I really appreciated it. And I wouldn't have been able to write it to the end, if not for you all. All the reviewers, thank you very much for your support. It's good to write if you know, that people really read your work :).
This last chapter was beta-read only by Luinthoron. I've been waiting for for two and a half months to get the beta-ed file back from *~*Dy*~*, but as I still haven't got it, I decided to post it now anyway. It's been already too long, hasn't it? And it IS the final chapter!
--Altair
Chapter Fifteen: Finale
The next day passed like a blur. Professor Dumbledore sent word to everyone in the resistance to organise the school's defence. He also tried to get help from the Ministry. That's when Minister Fudge really exploded. After he had heard, how they had received the information about the forthcoming attack, he not only refused to send any help, their argument about the reliability of Harry as a source of information reached the dimensions where the Minister of Magic threatened to order the school board to disengage Dumbledore and to have him sent to St Mungo's. Unnecessary to say, they didn't part on very friendly terms. More accurately, they had never parted ways on more belligerent terms. There was not enough time to evacuate the school. They would have needed to know about the oncoming attack sooner, to have the train ready. That meant that the students were all going to be at school on the time of the attack. That, too, troubled Dumbledore a lot. Hogwarts might be one of the safest places on Earth, but he still would have preferred to meet a direct attack on it without any students there to get hurt. There was, of course the advantage of being able to engage volunteering sixth and seventh years' students on the defence, but he was more than worried about the younger students. Many of them would overestimate their knowledge and power and try and join the battle, others would surely panic and try to escape – and run right into the arms of Voldemort's troops. How was he supposed to defend the school if he didn't even know from where Tom would attack? He knew, when the attack would occur, but he was still not able to satisfactorily organise the defences as he didn't know where exactly to place his little army. It looked as if he would be forced to place defenders scattered all over the school, which would reduce the defence ability in all massively. After all – the defence line would be able to form normally only after the battle – and it promised to become one – had already begun, for the defenders would have to rush to the place the attack took place from all over the school. There was no telling just how much this uncertainty would move the scales in Lord Voldemort's behalf. Needless to say, that the old Professor hadn't been this worried for a very long time.
Lord Voldemort was sitting in the same blood-red chair as always, when he arrived. The room was as dark as ever with the curtains drawn and the only source of light being the lighted fireplace. Arthur remembered when he was here the first time. It had been just a few days after the man in that chair had saved his life. It had been the first time he had ever considered working with and for the Dark Lord. That time, Lord Voldemort had opened his eyes to the problems of wizardkind. To the weakening of the wizard blood because of intermarriages with Muggles and Mudbloods, to the threat the Muggles would someday turn out to be, should they discover that magic exists, just because there was more Muggles than wizards. There had once been a time when Arthur had really liked the Muggles and he had really been interested in Muggle artefacts. And even though dealing with those had become disgusting for him, he still managed to uphold the image of an Muggle-obsessed poor wizard just to help the Dark Lord on achieving his ultimate goal – freeing the world from these lower creatures that were also called Muggles. There was also the issue of Mudbloods. They were magical, after all. But still, that didn't mean that they would have to be allowed to stick up their noses the way they did. No, the Mudbloods, if allowed to live, would become a lower class of workers. They would not be allowed to marry Pureblood wizards in order not to weaken their blood lines, they would have to find their partners for life in their own ranks, remove all children with no magical powers and maybe someday, generations away, when they had managed to produce fully magical clans, their successors would be allowed to have relationships with older families and get better jobs. This was going to be the future. A future for wizardkind, where wizards would not have to hide themselves from the world. A world he was going to help to build.
"My Lord." Arthur bowed his head towards the man in the chair from the shadows. Even though the man almost never faced him in this room, he still seemed to know every move he made in here. It was somehow creepy and reassuring on the same time. Like there was at least one thing in the world that you could always count on.
"I was expecting you," the man in the chair answered. He did not stand up nor did he turn around. He just continued to observe the flames in the fireplace – an obsession of his Arthur had never quite understood, even though he too seemed to like the fire. The fire… Maybe this was the reason he had acted in Arthur's behalf that time. Maybe it had been because Arthur reminded him of the fire with his flaming red hair? Had this been the reason he had first thought it a shame that such a wizard was a loyal member of Dumbledore's Resistance? Had this been the reason he had saved this man from grave danger to lure him over to his side. Maybe, but maybe not. This man was worthy of being considered a friend, unlike most of his Death Eaters. Most of them were just hungry for power and wanted their fun with the Mudbloods and Muggles, having no brains and creativity on their own. There were only few that really had earned his respect. The ones that had suffered in Azkaban all these years because they had been proud about the fact that they had been Death Eaters, for example. But there was only one he would call a friend and mean it. And that was the man behind him in the shadows. The one who was loyal, but had always a brain and who knew how to use it, the one who could fool Dumbledore himself. Silence was spreading out around the room. Neither man said anything, they were both just looking into the flames from their respective places, Arthur trying to think of a good way to place his request, Lord Voldemort just waiting for the other man to start speaking.
"I know why you came," he said finally, when the room had been silent for about five minutes. Arthur looked away from the fire, to the chair that was occupied by his Lord. "I know what you are going to ask. I can't say I'm surprised, though."
There was something about the Dark Lord. Something not every man was capable of. He always made you feel as if he had known what you were going to do, even before you had decided to do that yourself. Even more. He made you feel as if he had not only known you would do that, but as if he had planned for you to do that himself. Arthur had not been summoned here, today. He had also not set word about his coming and yet the Dark Lord seemed to have known exactly when he would arrive in the shadows of this old room. Some of the Death Eaters found it highly irritating, but it also held them in line. Well, maybe he just did know each and every one of his Death Eaters better than they did themselves…
Arthur looked away from the fire, in the direction where his Lord was sitting. His Lord had never used that particular merit of his on him before. He had heard that the Dark Lord was able to "read minds" as some people liked to put it, but he had never seen it himself. He was somewhat taken aback by those words, but he pulled himself together in a fraction of a moment. "Very well, then, my Lord. In that case, I would like to ask about your answer. Am I permitted, then?" he asked. Well, that wasn't exactly the first time he had come to his Lord with this particular request. The answer had always been no, but he never gave up hope, that his Lord would change his mind someday. About a battle. Well, he already knew what his Lord would answer, but it didn't hurt to at least try.
"Very well, if this battle is dominated by us, you can," came the voice of the Dark Lord from the enormous chair.
Arthur almost choked. He had been sure his request would be rejected as always. This time, it took him several minutes to recover from the surprising answer. He took a deep bow in the direction of his Lord. "Thank you, my Lord."
"But don't forget. On one condition only," the Dark Lord reminded him again to make sure he had really understood the permission in whole. "Only if it is clear that Dumbledore's Resistance is going down."
The sun was setting on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The setting sun had never before faced the school this silent. There were no students hurrying to their dormitories after hours, no teachers rushing in the direction of their rooms, even Peeves seemed to have decided that this night was not meant for his pranks and he was nowhere to be seen. There were some people all around the school, standing in small groups, but they were so quiet one could have heard a needle fall. The air was filled with suspense, the people in the school, no matter whether in common rooms, dormitories or standing in small groups in the corridors, were all filled with the same tension. Every person in the school, even the ghosts, was listening even to the smallest noises to determine the direction of the coming attack, but all they could hear was their own breath in this silence. Not one of them even dared to move, not to accidentally make some noises to mislead the others. Even the ever so nosy cat of caretaker Filch, Mrs Norris seemed to have disappeared somewhere. Not that anybody would have cared about this. There were worries enough without having to find a cowardly cat. And most of the people who had had experience with the cat in their own schooldays (and the current students of sixth and seventh years) were more than happy to be able to walk the corridors without the sneaky cat right behind them. Not that they'd been walking, but it was still good to know to be able to.
The last sunbeams were dying away behind the Forbidden Forest. Then, there was silence. Utter and total silence in almost complete darkness as the old mood had almost disappeared into nothingness. And yet another minute in silence went by, the people in the castle wondering, whether the information about an attack at sundown was really correct. And then, the front doors burst open. No-one had seen Lord Voldemort's army to arrive at the door. No-one had reported an army of this size to be spotted walking the grounds of Hogwarts and yet, there they were. The wizards and witches and all the creatures Voldemort had managed to convince. And their numbers were really something. None of the people in the castle had been expecting this. There was also no reason to be wondering why the doors had given up so easily. In the front, one could see a really big foot. Somewhere near it should have been also the other one, but one could not see it properly if looking through the door. One of the giants had just kicked the doors open.
For one moment, no-one moved. And then, as if a dam had broken, the battle arose. The first group of defenders, the ones standing at the door, was easily defeated. They had been too surprised to even react. But everyone in the castle had heard the doors being kicked open and the whole army of the Resistance was now hurrying in the direction of the Entrance Hall. And, unknown to anyone else, another person was heading in the same direction, well covered by his invisibility cloak. That, of course was no other than Harry Potter. As the guardians of the Houses had been given order not to open for anyone besides sixth and seventh years, he had sneaked out behind Fred and George, wearing his cloak and had been hiding from the defence groups in an empty classroom. He had felt the need to be part of this battle. Somehow, he still felt responsible and felt the need to atone himself at least in his own eyes by fighting this battle. He was sure, that no-one would think of sending him back to the Gryffindor tower once the battle was already going on. After all, he had faced the threat named Lord Voldemort (or Tom Riddle) numerous times before and he had always come out of it on top. Well, maybe it was pure luck that he did, but still, he had the experience of fighting Lord Voldemort unlike the sixth and seventh years, even though he was still in his fifth.
Remus was facing a young boy of about sixteen years, one of his own students. One of his favourite ones, too. One, who really understood the meaning of the Dark Arts and who had been one of his top sixth years. And who was now fighting for Dumbledore, who was fighting against him. Well, he really liked the boy. There weren't that many young people talented in the Arts and the Defence. But it had to be. He had to erase this talent for his Lord. Well, he was going to make it a quick death for the boy, not because he would have preferred quick killing but because he respected his enemy and didn't want to torture him. He raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" The boy's eyes were full of surprise the moment he died. Remus turned to face his next opponent, but in the same moment, he was hit by a curse from behind. He hadn't seen the curse coming. One of his fellow Death Eaters had dodged a curse, but he had been so caught up in his own fight that he hadn't noticed anything that went on around him. He fell to the ground, his head hitting the floor, hard. For a moment, everything went black. And then, he could see more clearly than he had seen for months. He could see what he had been and what he had become. What he had allowed to be made out of him. He, one of the best friends of James Potter and a loyal helper of Dumbledore had let himself be used. Used as a spy against Dumbledore. Used to spy after James' son. Used to kill his own students... No! This couldn't be happening. This was impossible! But yet he knew that it was true. He had become a tool for Voldemort to be used against Dumbledore, to be used to steal Harry's memories. And he had killed an innocent boy. He had killed an innocent boy for Lord Voldemort! He had used an Unforgivable to do that, too. How would he ever be able to look at himself in a mirror after what he had done? He had killed, just for the fun of it. He remembered the woman who had helped him after he had lost his memory. And he had paid for her assistance by killing her. He had tortured Muggles and Muggle-borns... Remus opened his eyes. He was not worthy of anyone's forgiveness. And there was only one thing he could do to even barely make up for all he had done. He raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" His hand fell to the ground next to his lifeless body, still clutching the wand witch was directed at himself.
The enemy troops had already managed to get deeper into the castle. There were battle noises coming from everywhere. Harry was hurrying towards the Great Hall, hoping to be able to help. He had already pocketed his invisibility cloak. It was great for sneaking around, but it seemed to get in one's way once one was in a hurry. The wand drawn, he moved towards the open doors. There were people in there, he could see. People fighting each other to the death. And there were many of them. He could see Professor Dumbledore fighting three Death Eaters at the same time. Harry stopped only for a moment before rushing into the battle himself. He started to hurl curses and hexes at Death Eaters, tried to disarm them, dodging spells on the same time. Somewhere on his left he saw four Death Eaters surrounding Professor Snape. Harry was not sure if he should be angry or glad about that. Sure, Professor Snape lived to make his life Hell, but he still was a loyal member of the Resistance and had put his own life on the line of fire, spying on Lord Voldemort. Not hesitating another moment, Harry shot another curse aiming for the Death Eaters surrounding the nasty Professor. But he was not given time to see, if he was successful. There was already a masked Death Eater before him. He did not recognise the voice, but he could almost hear the sneer on his face. "Look at that, if this isn't the Potter boy... Master will be very pleased to hear about your passing..." And he shot the Cruciatus Curse at Harry. The boy only barely managed to duck the curse. Somewhere behind him, he heard someone scream out in pain. The curse that had missed him had found another victim. Who, Harry did not know. He didn't have time to turn and look, he had to concentrate fully fighting and surviving. Somewhere further on his right he heard people exult. Most of the people risked a peek in the direction of the jubilant noises, and were struck by horror. Harry, too looked in this direction and would almost have been hit by a curse for he completely forgot about defending himself at the view he saw. He had managed to look just in time to see Dumbledore fall. Forgetting all about where and when he was, he started running toward the old wizard, covering the space between them in no time at all, not wanting to believe the obvious. He was searching for a pulse, for some signs of life, not even noticing the fact that most of the Resistance was now trying to protect him from the curses of the Death Eaters. Someone took his hand and dragged him away from the lifeless body of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry looked up and met the warm and worried eyes of his foster father. He started struggling.
"We must go back! Professor Dumbledore needs our help! Can't you see, we can't just leave him lying there, they will kill him!" Harry cried, but Arthur just shook his head sadly.
"There's nothing we can do for him, anymore, Harry. He's dead and so will be you if you go back there now. Didn't you see how everyone was trying to protect your life as you were sitting by Dumbledore? How they started fighting without thinking, getting cursed in return. You're a symbol of freedom to them, and they will all get killed if you go and put your life on risk. Do you really want to do that?!"
Harry shook his head and followed Mr Weasley through the corridors, his mind racing. Professor Dumbledore was dead. The only person Lord Voldemort had ever feared had fallen. What were they going to do?
There seemed to be fighting all around them. They were headed for the Gryffindor common room, but when they heard fighting noises from right in front of them, Arthur led them to an empty classroom in the hope that no-one would discover them, Harry was sure. He would have been sure of it anyway, but the fact that Mr. Weasley pulled him into the classroom whispering "We better hide in here until they move on with the fighting. There's no need for you to get yourself killed!" was reassuring, too. He followed his stepfather into the dark room and they sat down on the farthest side of the room. The fighting went on and on for hours. Harry could hear people cry in agony. Were they Death Eaters or were they on his side? He could not tell for sure. The voices were too many for him to tell them apart.
Harry didn't know for how long they had been hiding in this classroom by now. Minutes? Hours? Days? He had already lost the track of time. How were the others? Had the Death Eaters reached the Houses? He really hoped that his friends were safe, but as for now, he certainly couldn't be sure of anything. Finally, the voices seemed to move away from their hideout, yet even more minutes passed before they finally dared to peek out of the door to see if the air was clean. The sight that awaited them was far from pleasant. There were Death Eaters and people from the Resistance lying dead on the floor, their bodies disfigured from all the curses they had been hit with. It was awful. Harry noticed that Mr Weasley was scanning the bodies even more carefully than he did. Something in the back of his mind reminded him that the twins, as seventh years, had also been engaged in the battle. He wondered if they were all right. They just had to be! But there was no time for wondering. Harry's stepfather already grabbed him by the hand and dragged him off in the direction of the dormitories, in the direction of safety.
They were running, trying to make it directly to the Gryffindor House. Harry was panting heavily from running up and down the changing stairs that seemed to have decided that he would not make it back there. Why was it that the school seemed to run rampant, too, whenever the situation was out of order?! But despite the spiteful stairs they made it to the right corridor. Relief and tiredness from running let them slow down the pace when they could already see the Fat Lady. Harry was so tired that he only wished to rest, but he was not sure he would be able to, regarding that the battle was still going on and he did not know who was on the winning side...
And then, they froze. Something appeared just before the Portrait hole. Something... or someone. Harry screamed. He had dreamt of this person ever so often, but it was still horrifying to be confronted with a real Lord Voldemort. Not to forget that his scar was hurting so much that he thought his head would explode. All of this took no longer than a fraction of a moment. Then, they stood, wands out, two wands directed at the Dark Lord, one at the fifteen-years old boy whose only crime had been to survive a death attack by the Dark Lord. There was a strange silence hanging in the air around them. Not one of them moved. Had someone looked at them this moment, he'd thought he'd be looking at statues or wax-figures.
Arthur was the one to break the silence at last. "You don't really think that you will get a chance to kill him, do you? You know as well as I do that as soon as you take a shot at whichever one of us, the other'll curse you. Why don't you just lay your wand down and spare us all of this experience?"
The Dark Lord's face bared confusion and hurt. "Oh, it's this way, then? And there I thought the boy and Dumbledore meant nothing to you…"
Harry was now looking from one to the other, looking very much confused. What were they talking about? Had Arthur been a spy for Dumbledore, too? It certainly looked this way. But he did not ask. He had to fight the horrific headache to be able to concentrate.
"Oh, well, you don't honestly think that I would betray someone I admire this much?" Arthur continued. "Of course not! I would never betray someone I consider a real friend. There aren't that many people who'd I refer to as such, who are almost closer than my own family for me. I won't let such people get killed by anyone, especially by you. Avada Kedavra!"
The spell hit Harry, who had not noticed that Arthur had turned on him by his last words, completely by surprise. Arthur looked up from the boy's body and smirked. "He trusted me right to his death, didn't he? Stupid boy."
The face of Lord Voldemort was unreadable. Arthur had, once again, really proved his acting talent. Even he, the Dark Lord himself, had been convinced for a moment. He reached out a hand. "Well, you certainly managed to get the job that all my Death Eaters have failed, done. Well done, my friend."
The battle went on until early hours, but not long before sunrise, the school was forced to surrender. The first rays of the sun painted Hogwarts' windows red, giving the old castle the look of being in flames. The Death Eaters and their allies were gathered at the castle steps, waiting for their leader, Lord Voldemort. This was his big moment. And he was going to enjoy it.
He emerged from the castle to once more stand in front of his followers. He knew that this was expected from him and he wouldn't have had it any other way. He looked over the people gathered, and opened his mouth.
"This is the beginning of a new world. A world of magic and magical creatures. A world that's free of Muggles, in which we can act freely with no need to hide. It's the beginning of our liberation. You all can be proud of having been a part of it, as you will continue to be as long as this fight for our freedom will last. There are still many who are too brainwashed to even want to be liberated from the bounds and boundaries we have been forced to live in because of the Muggles. I am sure, that many of them will soon enough realise that all of this is in their best interest, too, and they will join our ranks. As for this long, we will have to continue fighting. Some of our most famous opponents have already fallen. I was glad to hear that the traitor Snape had been punished, the message about Dumbledore's death also pleased me. Dumbledore has always been one of the greatest supporters of Muggles and has always helped in depressing our community. He has always been a symbol of Muggle- and Mudblood-lovers of our kind. With his death, we have set a sample. But there is one more famous opponent of ours who has found his death this night. Harry Potter was killed right outside the Gryffindor Tower. I am sure you all wonder who was the one who managed to complete the task that so many have attempted before and never succeeded. I'm sure you all know my most loyal follower for 18 years…" with these words, he opened the doors once again allowing Arthur to step outside and come to stand beside him. This was his reward. For the first time, he was being recognised as his Lord's follower among the Dark Lord's other, very surprised adherents. This was what he had always been working towards. He was officially on Lord Voldemort's side now.
The End
A/N: So, this is it. No more Spy. I hope you liked it. As for the ones who have asked me if there is going to be a sequel – I think you all can see that there is no way for a sequel for this story, as I killed off most of the main characters and Arthur's person is no more secret, either. I still hope you enjoyed reading this. Well, let me know what you thought of the story. It's the very last chapter so please, if you haven't reviewed before, do it now and even if you have, I'll be glad to hear what you thought of it. So please, please review.
--Altair