CHAPTER XXI

Note from author: I received a very good review the other day, with some great corrections. In the previous chapter I wrote "knew" instead of "new", I promise I'm not stupid that was just a typing error. Also technically oranges cannot apparently grow near London but its "magic" right? :0) Oh yes, and for clarification, Ginny and Harry were accidentally transported to completely different areas because the talisman was only meant for one person. Ginny landed close­-ish to London and got to Hogwarts by portkey, I know she could not have walked there on her own. If that was confusing it was probably my bad editing because I did make some changes before posting. Anyways thanks a bundle to David for all this useful information, I'm glad that you are enjoying it. Keep reviewing everyone!

Harry's entire torso was almost completely numb, except where his ribs were broken. His abdomen was riddled with gigantic, ugly black and yellow bruises, where the constant movement on the broken bones was damaging tissue inside. His shirt was almost completely torn; Harry ripped off the useless scraps and threw them on the ground. His coat looked dirty but undamaged, and his jeans were holding up. He'd had given up on his shoes a while back, they had been so soaked and muddy that they were slowing him down, so he was forced to walk barefoot. Harry sat down on a rock, breathing heavily. He had reached an area of green rolling hills, decorated sparsely with huge oak trees, and he had just climbed the largest hill he could find to see if he could get a view of anything. Off in the distance, a long way away was a structure of some sort, although he could not make out any details. His vision was particularly bad, considering his glasses, which had miraculously survived, were permanently smeared and muddy. Harry turned in a circle, surveying the landscape. His eyes caught site of something else. There was a long, dark line, winding across the countryside, taking squiggly turns and bends around the hills. His eyes followed it further along, until it passed him and continued off in the direction of the building he could see way off in the distance. It was then that Harry realized the line was actually train tracks. Train tracks leading to Hogwarts? Harry began his descent back down the huge hill, taking the shortest possible path, hoping he was on the right track. Harry chuckled to himself. No pun intented, he thought.

***

Hilary blew out a breath of relief when, finally, help had arrived. Six or so aurors, members of the Order, or both, appeared with several loud pops in the middle of the kitchen, and immediately began to fight of the group of deatheaters that had stormed Matilda's cottage, undoubtedly looking for trouble. Hilary figured they knew she or Ginny was at the house and had decided to make chaos for no reason. They seemed to be getting much more confident now that…she didn't even want to think about it. There was a shout and the deatheaters began to retreat through that back door. She spat after them.

"And don't come back!" she shouted, shaking her fist. Ethan, over in the corner groaned, just regaining consciousness. She went to him, kneeling to make sure he was alright.

"How's the head?" she asked.

Ethan dabbed at the back of his head delicately, where there was a little bit of blood. He grimaced.

"I'll be fine," he said. "Ginny?"

Hilary shook her head.

"She went and got help at Hogwarts. Poor girl didn't have her wand."

Ethan nodded. Several members of the Order came over, one supporting Matilda, who looked completely terrified, but otherwise unharmed.

"You okay mum?" asked Hilary. The old woman nodded feebly, wobbling slightly.

Hilary smiled.

"Come on then, let's get you to my house."

***

"O Spirit, you who are the lord of mercies and the essence of all comfort; look with compassion, we pray, upon all gathered here now, that our minds and hearts shall be at rest. Grant that this service of comfort, which we now hold in the name of the forces of nature, may bring to all a sense of peace and great trust in the world around us. And may the peace of Mother Nature, even the peace that passes all understanding, abide with us and rest upon all these dear ones…"

Ginny, Ron and Hermione listened tearfully to the sermon being given by one of their divination professors Firenze. His deep, rich voice rang through the crowd of students and teachers, and members of the Order. The funeral was taking place the last day before the new term started, and none of the three were looking forward to going back to work. Ginny in particular wanted to crawl up in bed and never talk to anyone for the rest of her life. Her mother had assured her this feeling would pass with time, but she was unconvinced. Nothing would ever be the same without Harry. Ginny shifted uncomfortably, biting her lip in pain. Her ankle had been broken in the fall, and once she had been rushed to the hospital wing, Madam Pompfrey had tutted, and told her she wanted it to heal naturally, seeing as how the skele-gro potion would be bad for her nutrition starved body. So she was forced to limp around on crutches, with all her brothers hovering worriedly around her at all times of the day, as if afraid she would disappear into thin air. It did nothing but add to her foul mood. She had already barked angrily at them several times, saying she may be a cripple, but that didn't stop her from kicking their asses. They'd only backed down for about a day or so, but right now, these worries were the farthest from her mind. She couldn't help thinking that something wasn't right. She remembered quite clearly, the feeling of being transported out of Azkaban, and for several seconds there, she had felt as though someone was there with her, until the presence had drifted away, as if being caught in a different air current that veered in a different direction. Ginny shook her head, she must have been imagining it. After all, Professor Snape and Malfoy had seen his dead body. Ginny pinched herself, stopping the torrent of thoughts, and concentrated on listening to Firenze's speech.

***

Something nudged Harry gently, but nevertheless painfully in ribs. He tried his best to inch away from his assailant but failed miserably. He was too weak. He had no magic, an empty stomach, he was seriously dehydrated, and his knees had finally given up when he reached the train tracks. His head was spinning, and he opened his eyes slowly, having forgotten everything. What he saw nearly gave him a heart attack. A giant, white nose, was centimeters away from he face. It snuffled soothingly against his forehead and nudged him again. Harry opened his mouth to groan, but his throat was entirely stuck together with dryness. He swallowed, but it would not un-stick. It made it very hard to breath. Harry opened his eyes a little wider, and tilted his head so the big, white muzzle no longer obscured his vision. It was a huge white horse, with a flowing mane and tail that gleamed iridescently in the glaring sun. Harry felt completely confused. The horse lowered itself gently to its knees and poked him again with its snout. It was only then Harry realized there was a gigantic horn poking from the middle of its forehead. A Unicorn. Harry rolled over gingerly, realizing it wanted him to mount it although he couldn't fathom why. It was just a feeling he had. He only just managed to roll onto the gigantic thing when it stood up roughly. He cried out in pain, his throat un-sticking painfully, as his torso was jostled. Just as he felt himself slipping out of consciousness, their came a deep, regal voice, from somewhere in his head. It is not your time to die yet, heir of Merlin.

***

There was a strange silence in the great hall at breakfast. There was hardly any conversation. Hermione would have thought the entire school would be gossiping, but then again, maybe they had finally grasped the gravity of the situation, she thought to herself. The students were beginning to get a little frightened as well. Dumbledore knew that the deatheaters would be making their move soon, and he had determined that prime targets were the ministry headquarters and Hogwarts. Those were the two places that would strike the most terror throughout if they were captured. Aurors guarded traffic through Hogwarts' front gates and members of the Order patrolled the halls at night. No one was allowed out past eight, and you were only allowed out on the grounds in full daylight in groups of five or more, with an adult supervisor. Security was tighter than ever. Draco Malfoy no longer constantly terrorized the younger students. In fact he didn't speak to anyone. Professor Snape, on the other hand, had become even more of a grouch and was inclined to remove house points from people for "walking too loudly," or "having a scratchy quill". Hermione looked around at the people sitting at the Gryffindor table. No one looked up, everyone had their heads buried in their porridge or cereal. Hermione sighed in frustration. She got up to get more porridge from the other end of the table, knowing if she asked someone to pass it, they'd be so busy moping about things they couldn't relate too that they wouldn't even acknowledge her voice. She got to the other end and reached for the bowl just as a sixth year she didn't know did the same. The younger girl glared at her and snatched the bowl out from under her fingers, giving her a look that said, "I'm too upset to be bothered being polite with you so shove off". Hermione's control snapped. She snatched the bowl from the girls hand and exploded, showing absolutely no restraint in her choice of words.

"You know what?!" she asked loudly, talking to everyone at the table, not just the shocked girl staring at her.

"FUCK YOU, ALL OF YOU!" she chucked the bowl across the room, feeling a huge sense of satisfaction when it crashed and splattered all over everyone's shoes.

"You all sit around here moping about! As though it's the END OF THE WORLD, SHOWING ABSOLUTELY NO HELP TO ANYONE BUT YOURSELVES!" she began to cry. "MOST OF YOU KNOW NOTHING OF GREIF, AND YET YOU ACT LIKE YOU CAN TREAT THE REST OF THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU HORRIBLY BECAUSE BEING SAD GIVES YOU AN EXCUSE TO BE RUDE!"

She swept a hand across the room. And began ticking off on her fingers

"ALL OF YOU WERE THE FIRST TO JUMP ON HARRY'S BACK WHEN YOU WANTED SOMEONE TO BLAME FOR THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS, FOR THE ATTACK OF SIRIUS BLACK, FOR CEDRICS DEATH. You all called him a lunatic," she said more quietly.

Hermione pointed at Dumbledore.

"YOU SHOULD ALL BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO GREIVE FOR HIM! IF YOU'RE ALL EXPECTING TO SURVIVE THIS FUCKING WAR WITHOUT HARRY, THEN YOU BETTER STOP WAITING FOR DUMBLEDORE TO DO IT FOR YOU AND START WORKING TOGETHER. THAT IS THE ONLY WAY WE CAN WIN. SO GET OFF YOUR USELESS ARSES, AND START EXIBITING SOME CONSTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOUR GOD DAMMIT!" Hermione swept a fist furiously across her eyes, trying to clear her vision. Everyone was staring at her with varying degrees of horror, shame, and in some cases anger. Well that seems to have all gone to hell, she thought angrily. She didn't want to look at their faces anymore, so she turned, and ran.

***

Harry woke to the steady rise and fall on the unicorns lope. He looked around him, not recognizing the area. Where the hell are we? He wondered.

Harry patted to unicorns neck.

"Where are we boy? Eh?"

He felt silly, talking to it as though it could respond.

I'm not a farm animal you know, came a cynical voice. Harry looked around.

"Who said that?" he asked.

Me.

There it was again.

I believe you refer to me as "boy".

Harry froze. He looked at the animal he was sitting astride. It's ears were pricked back, towards him.

"A unicorn that speaks English," he said wonderingly.

Young people these days. Came the disdainful voice.

You really know nothing. I speak every language you could possibly think of. I am the Lord of the Anhyrn, and I have lived longer than the oldest tree. My kind has been here since the beginning.

It occurred to Harry that his companion was a bit of a snob.

"What's your name?" he asked nicely.

My kind call me Dryhten.

"So why save me?" he asked, "Why save me if I am so… beneath you."

You are the key to the survival of the world. The Anhyrn have long had a prophecy about you. It is essential that I maintain it.

"If you're the Lord of the…what do you call them?"

The Anhyrn.

"…The Anhyrn, then why not send someone else to help me?" Harry asked. "Surely you have better things to do."

The Anhyrn are bound by their powers to help those who are in need of it. It is why our blood will save someone, no matter who they are. I am the only one of my kind whose powers can match yours. We cannot help those whose powers are too strong to let us.

Harry grimaced.

"So can you do something about my ribs?" he asked painfully.

I have tried. Your magic will not let me; your body has its own intrusion alarm. It's a very rare trait in humans, it helps against hostile spells. Harry sighed disappointedly.

"Pity, where are we?" he asked.

Nearing Hogwarts. We are making much better time than you would have on your own.

Harry poked out his tongue childishly at the haughtiness of his ride.

I saw that.

***

Hermione was lying face down on her bed with her head in the pillow when there was a knock on the door. She didn't answer, it was probably Parvarti or someone come to tell her she was a bitch. She really couldn't care less. The door opened slowly. Hermione rolled over curiously.

"Hermione?" came a male voice. It was Ron.

Hermione sniffled. She didn't want him to think she'd been crying. He stepped inside and closed the door, coming over to her.

"That was really brave of you to stand up to everyone like that," he told her, sitting down next to her on the bed.

She snorted derisively.

"Not like it did any good," she said.

"Oh I don't know about that," he corrected, stroking her hair. "People seemed pretty convinced, anyway no one's moping about anymore. They're all trying to be cheerful."

Good, she thought.

Ron kissed her cheek. Feeling the dampness.

"You've been crying," he whispered.

Hermione shook her head, and Ron chuckled.

"That's the spirit," he said. "Blatant denial, it's always works for me."

Hermione giggled. Ron's heart swelled. This was the Hermione he remembered. He tickled her. She squealed and wriggled away from him, but he pinned her down, holding her hands above her head with one hand and tickling her with his other. She screamed and kicked at him, but he dodged her, planting a firm kiss on her lips. Hermione stopped moving, and smiled.

"You should smile more," said Ron quietly. Her released her hands and kissed her nose.

"It makes me happy."

He leaned down and kissed her a little more passionately this time, one hand on her cheek, the other on her little waist. Hermione sighed against his lips and kissed him back, her hands holding his head closer. They were just contemplating going a little further when a horrible scream of an alarm rang through the castle. Dumbledore's voice rumbled through every room.

"ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS AND STAFF. THE CASTLE IS UNDER ATTACK. ALL STUDENTS REMAIN CALM AND MOVE QUICKLY TO THE GREAT HALL, WHERE A MEMBER OF THE STAFF WILL BE WITH YOU SHORTLY. ALL TEACHERS REPORT TO THE CONFERENCE ROOM IMMEDIATELY."

Hermione and Ron stared at each other, horrified. They both scrambled off the bed quickly, and hurried down the dormitory stairs to the common room, where many other Gryffindors were filing through the portrait hole to the great hall as well. Many of the younger girls were whimpering pathetically and generally getting in everyone's way as they bumbled about in panic. Ron grabbed two girls by the back of their collars, one in each of his massive hands, and steered them forcefully to the exit. Hermione followed his example, although she was more discreet. She directed confused first years and patted a few backs. When they entered the great hall themselves, absolute chaos met their eyes. Isn't there a level-headed student in the lot of them? Hermione wondered frustratedly.

"We're all going to die!" shouted someone. Hermione rolled her eyes. How constructive. She grabbed Ron's arm.

"Hey!" he said.

"Come on," she told him, nodding towards the staff table. She set off, weaving through the students until she got to the head of the room, where she climbed on top of the table and yelled for silence. No one heard her over the uproar. Her kicked a waterglass in irritation.

"You've gotten awfully intolerant lately," Ron whispered jokingly in her ear.

"Oh come off it Ron look at this mess," she told him irritably, pointing at the panicked throng.

She waved her wand, muttering a spell, and a huge BANG issued from the tip of it. Everyone went deadly silent, looking at her.

"Finally!" Hermione said.

"Now, do you all honestly think that running around like chickens with their heads cut off screaming "We're all going to die!" is going to help us AT ALL?" the last part ended in a shout. Everyone looked slightly scared. Those that knew Hermione looked at her in wonder. Ron stepped in.

"Honestly!" he said loudly.

Several people snickered, despite the situation. Hermione glared at him.

"Now," she said loudly. "Why don't you all sit down calmly, and show a manner a behavior that does not contribute badly to the current situation!"

Ron nodded.

"She means sit down and shut up!" he said.

Surprisingly, many people obeyed. Luckily, at that moment, Dumbledore entered, striding quickly. He was eyeing all the quiet students curiously. When he reached the staff table, he saw Hermione standing on top of it, and seemed to understand. He reached up gentleman-like, and helped her down from the table. Hermione thanked him politely and sat down in Professor McGonagall's seat to listen.

"Thank you all for listening quietly," Dumbledore told them. "It is my duty to inform you all that Hogwarts will be under full siege in a matter of minutes, when Voldemorts forces to reach our gates. It is for that reason that Professor Sprout is waiting outside the great hall to take all students to the dungeons to the safe-room, where they will be hardest to reach . All students please move quietly to the door now. I must ask all sixth and seventh year students to remain with me for a few moments."

There was a scramble to the door as every fifth year and down got up and exited the great hall. When it was completely empty, except for the sixth and seventh years, Dumbledore spoke.

"I have been ordered to inform anyone who is seventeen years of age or older, that the ministry is issuing a temporary draft, stating any of the mentioned people in Hogwarts are strongly recommended to lend aid to the forces outside Hogwarts."

"Strongly recommended?" asked Hermione loudly.

Dumbledore looked at her slightly sadly.

"Essentially them mean required, unless you are injured or physically unfit, such as someone with asthma, or very bad eye-sight."

There was a murmur throughout the room. Several people had gone very pale.

"Also anyone in sixth year that can produce a corporeal patronus is asked to volunteer," said Dumbledore flatly, and though he really didn't feel this was necessary. Two students stepped forward. Hermione guessed they were the only ones in sixth year that even could produce a corporeal patronus.

Dumbledore sighed.

"Thank you, the rest of you may proceed to the dungeons."

Most of the sixth years, and one or two seventh years left the room.

"Everyone else please come with me."

***

Harry stared excitedly at the view of Hogwarts at the top of the hill. They would be there in no time. He hadn't had anything to eat in three days, only water. White, as he had taken to calling his companion because his name was too difficult to pronounce, had found a few streams to drink from luckily. There was a loud boom and smoke billowed up ahead. The smiled was wiped from Harry's face instantly.

Hogwarts is under attack! Said White.

White never actually spoke out loud, he communicated telepathically with people.

"How do you know?" ask Harry quickly.

My scout, in the forest; there is a whole clan that lives there.

Harry rubbed his face tiredly.

"We better get down there," he said, "I can still fight with a sword, even if I'm drained.""

You have much more magic in reserve than you know, boy. You should be more than fine.

Before Harry could ask any questions, White bolted, galloping down the hill at full pace, heading directly for the back end of the forbidden forest. Harry shook his head determinedly, ignoring the ache in his side, and drew his blade.

***

Ron felt completely out of his league, he didn't know how to fight like this. You just finished heading off some death eater and in come three others from behind. He wondered how Harry had done it. Practice I guess. Ron yelled, and charged towards a deatheater that was stalking Hermione menacingly. The students had been put at the back, not in the center of the real fighting. Their job was to fight anything that broke through the front line. The entire outer wall that surrounded the Hogwarts grounds had been demolished in several places, leaving access for the enemies. There were a lot more of them than Ron had expected. He didn't even realize there were that many deatheaters, and that was only the start of it. There were legions of dementors, and hordes of trolls and vampires. Ron knew they were drastically outnumbered. This is bad, he thought.

"Expelliarmus!" he yelled at an unseeing deatheater.

The man's wand flew out of his hand and he was blasted backwards, bowling over a troll. The Auror who had been fighting it waved gratefully, blood pouring from a wound on his forehead. He wiped it out of his eyes and turned to another deatheater. How does he do that? Ron wondered, before turning quickly to head off another assailant, grimly. The terror had left him shortly after being shoved into the thick of things, and he was now over come with adrenaline. It kept him from running away every time someone came at him. He had no practiced skill in fighting and tended to just charge straight at people blindly but it seemed o be working well enough, he had a few nicks and cuts and one curse burn that stung painfully, but nothing serious. Then again, he was in the very back. There was the huge crash and rumble of rolling stones and another part of the wall came down on top of a group of aurors, in stormed more trolls, wading through the chaos and wacking at people with huge clubs.

"Everyone available to the front lines," came a tiny copy of Professor Snape's voice in his ear. He ducked a trolls club and looked around to see if anyone else could hear it. Many students had a hand to their ears curiously. Must be some kind of charm, Ron thought.

"I repeat, every available person the front lines, we are outnumbered, everyone to the front lines!" came the voice again, this time more urgently. Ron fired a conjunctivitis spell in the troll's eyes and ducked between his legs, running forward. I'm going to die, he thought grimly, his mind feeling strangely detached from his body.

***

Harry eyed the grim scene only a few feet ahead of him worriedly. The defenders were grossly outnumbered. His eyes scanned the crowd.

"Fuck!" he shouted. "They've got the students fighting!"

White's voice was determined.

We should get in there and help, otherwise they will all die.

Harry nodded. Though he would never admit it to himself (Harry was much too modest), his fighting was worth that of fifty well-trained aurors. His reflexes were so fast they could not be followed with the human eye. White had lived longer than ever imaginable and he had considerable practice in fights like these. Harry turned to the clan of unicorns behind him and nodded. White charged, his powerful hind legs bunching, then springing into action. Harry yelled as loud as he could and leveled his sword with White's body, parallel to the ground. They galloped out of the forest full speed, heading full-on into the fray. He hacked and sliced with one hand and twirled his dagger like a baton in the other, catching deatheaters and trolls in pressure points and weak spots in the armor with the sharp tip. His scar didn't ache. Voldemort wasn't here.

Coward, thought Harry.

Quite so, came White's voice in his head. He impailed a vampire through the chest with his razor sharp horn and jerked his head back violently, sending the dead creature flying over Harry's head. Harry chopped and hacked in a frenzy, barely noticing his ribs and he swung he arms expertly this way and that.

Behind you! came and urgent voice. Harry was gripped White's sides with his knees as the unicorn whirled hurriedly. Harry flung himself back flat onto White's flanks as a small throwing axe zipped through the air grazing a long shallow gash on his naked chest. Harry had forgotten that his shirt had disintegrated a while back, and had not thought to close the lapel of his coat. He jerked forward again and bent low on White's back, ramming his shoulder into a huge troll that was tall enough reach him at eyelevel. He backhanded the creature with his sword and followed up by stabbing his dagger in its forehead. It expelled a breath of air and fell forward, crushing a deatheater.

"Keep fighting!" shouted Harry to his steed. "I'm going to get off, I'll get at more people that way!"

As you wish, shout if you hit trouble.

Harry nodded, knowing White would know even if wasn't facing him, and vaulted of the white back into the middle of a throng of deatheaters. He grinned maniacally at all of them, standing there dumbly, looking at the boy they thought was dead.

"Remember me?" he shouted at them. He jumped and spun in the air, spreading his sword and dagger so they sliced around him in a ring. Four men were down at once. There was a loud scream voiced somewhere. It sounded instantly familiar. He swung around, bowling over three goblins and sprinted in its direction.

***

Ron heard Hermione scream and fell back from the deatheater he was fighting immediately. He whirled, eyes scanning the grounds, until they locked on her lying on the ground gripping her side and scrambling backwards away from a vampire wielding a two handed great-sword. He ran as hard as he could firing the first spell that came to his head as he neared them. The spell flew towards the vampire and ricocheted harmlessly off him. Shit, Ron thought. He watched as though in slow motion as the vampire lifted his sword high. Ron started ran harder, knowing he wouldn't get there in time. He looked on in despair as the gigantic sword came sweeping down towards Hermione…down…

"NOOO…" Ron bellowed, but he had barely finished these words went there was a whistle of another sword traveling lightening fast threw the air, and it intercepted the great-sword with and almighty CRASH. The vampires weapon shattered into dangerously sharp shards that scattered everywhere, and a tall, bare-chested man with black hair roared, and drove his sword threw Hermione's attacker with the force of a steam engine. The vampire died instantly, crumbling to the ground, it's body evaporating a few seconds later. The man stood, panting and staring at the spot where the vampire had died. Ron could perceive angry purple bruises all down his side. His long black coat hung off one shoulder, he did not move. Ron went over to Hermione quickly.

"Are you alright?" he asked anxiously, kneeling near her. Her side was bleeding. Hermione shook her head, breathing in heaving gasps. The wound leaked more blood.

"Shit," Ron said. He bent down, pulling a scrap of her ripped shirt aside, to get a better look. It was fairly deep, and an angry red around the edges. Someone else's hands came into view.

"Here," the person said, bending down and pressing a scrap of cloth on the wound.

"Hold in down to stop the bleeding."

Ron nodded and looked up at Hermione's saviour. His head was bent, concentrating on the gash, affording Ron only a look of some messy black hair. Ron stared curiously, feeling an emotion welling up in his stomach. The man removed his long black trench coat and wrapped it around Hermione. I know that coat, thought Ron. I know that hair. Suddenly everything clicked. He threw himself backwards with a yell. This wasn't happening. The black haired man lifted his head, looking straight at Ron with heavy emotion in his shockingly green eyes.

"Get her to Madam Pompfrey Ron," he said, and then jumped up and threw himself back into the crowd.

Ron lifted Hermione, feeling tears on his cheeks. He was imagining things.

"He's dead damnit!" he shouted to himself.

"Ron…what are you…" Hermione murmured blearily.

Ron shook his head and sniffed.

"No worries Hermione, just rest, I'm taking you to the hospital wing."

Hermione nodded, and her eyes drifted shut.

***

Harry shook his head and tried not to think about his friends. He needed to get anyone on his side into Hogwarts, and fast. He looked up, scanning the towers. There! Harry thought. Dumbledore was at the top of the astronomy, directing aurors. Harry waved his wand, casting a speech spell by sheer force of will, drawing on the pool of reserve magic that White had told him was there.

"Dumbledore," said Harry in a normal voice, knowing the headmaster would hear him. "Dumbledore call all men back, get everyone inside the castle, Please!" he said urgently. He knew the deatheaters were conjuring a spell that would level Hogwarts in one explosion. He could feel it the magic in the air, and he needed to stop them before they finished.

"They're starting an earthquake spell Dumbledore," Harry said louder, "hurry!"

He looked at the astronomy tower and felt Dumbledore's gaze piercing into him. He knew the old man knew who he was. He stared back. Seconds later, Dumbledore turned away, pointing here and there and gesturing quickly. There was aloud siren and a voice echoed through the grounds.

"ALL MEN RETREAT INTO THE CASTLE, I REPEAT, EVERYONE RETREAT INTO HOGWARTS, NO EXCEPTION. RETREAT IMMEDIATELY."

Aurors everywhere around Harry looked confused, but their training held, and they all began to hack their way through the mess of creatures back to the castle. Harry did the same, except he was aiming for the center of the grounds. He amplified his speech charm when he knew everyone was inside the castle, so that it would infiltrate every crack and stone in Hogwarts.

"EVERYONE TO THE DUNGEONS NOW! THAT INCLUDES ALL INJURED PEOPLE IN THE HOSPITAL WING, MOVE!" he commanded, hoping they would listen.

***

Ron was carrying Hermione as fast as he could to the dungeons. He didn't know who it was that was telling them to do this, but everyone was obeying. He entered the biggest room under Hogwarts to find the entire school, and every other man at Hogwarts hurrying into through the same door

. The last man sprinted through, and several aurors bolted huge metal doors shut. Ron laid Hermione down gently in the corner where all the other injured lay on stretchers. The room was huge, but it barely held the huge number of people.

"I need silence please!" came a strong voice. It was Dumbledore, standing on a podium at the head of the room. Everyone quieted. Dumbledore waved his wand, and a scene appeared in the air above them. It was a view of what was happening outside. The view rushed forward past enemies of all kind until in centered in on one lone figure standing in the middle of everything. A man with black messy hair, no shirt, and green eyes. He had a sword and his wand drawn and two other blades at his hip. The room went deathly quiet. Everyone recognized Harry, but know could believe what they saw. Suddenly, he sheathed his blade. Everyone gasped. How could he fight without his weapon? He put his wand away too, and then straightened, staring calmly at the deatheaters and dementors advancing on him. Something very strange was happening, the air was beginning to crackle and shimmer and everyone saw strange ripples in it, like you do when it gets extremely hot outside, except the temperature around them was the same. It was even happening inside Hogwarts. Several spells came rocketing Harry's way, but they seemed to veer around him at the last minute, as though slipping on an oily surface. He crouched low, an expression of extreme concentration on his face… and the world exploded.