**Ha ha! It only took me one day to write this chapter! Warning – it is very sad. Have your tissues ready. Thanks for reviews, even if you only had one day to give them in! HA! **

The window was medium sized. It was big enough for anyone in the room to get through once fully opened, and there was a convenient drainpipe right next to it that led all the way down to the ground, three storeys below.

"You're joking," Ron gulped.

"Nope," said Harry. He thrust an experimental leg out of the open window. Nothing happened, but when he grabbed tightly onto the windowsill, which seemed to want to help him as he didn't fall through it, and threw his other leg over, sliding down an extra fifty centimetres, his feet hit some kind of an invisible force field.

Harry climbed back inside the classroom. He had learned not to waste his time fighting invisible force fields – especially when he was hanging about seven metres off the ground.

"No good," he panted, when he was back inside. "I guess I'm not meant to get that far away from Voldemort. I reckon even if I jumped I'd just stop in mid-air. You try," he said to Ron.

White-faced, Ron copied what Harry had done. This time, however, he managed to grab onto the drainpipe, which also held his insubstantial weight,  and slide down it to the bottom. Luckily, whoever made the rules about what was solid to them and what wasn't had decided not to include the ground or the floor.

He could hear the screaming coming from the other side of the building and was extremely glad that he was on the opposite side to the front door.

"Ok!" he called up.

Harry looked suggestively at Ellyna. She shook her head. "The children first," she said.

Harry picked up the nearest child, a fair-haired little girl clutching a teddy bear and wearing a pink skirt. Not ideal attire for jumping out of windows. He whispered to the girl to stay quiet, held her out over the window, and dropped her.

She didn't stay quiet – she screamed as she fell, but once Ron had caught her he put a reassuring hand over her mouth. She didn't look very reassured but she stood shakily, looking up at the window from which she had dropped. She looked quite proud about it.

Harry grabbed the next one without ceremony, a dark skinned boy who looked determined not to make as much of a scene as the little girl. When Harry dropped him he went without a sound, and thanked Ron politely when he was caught safely.

Ron felt very uneasy. Well, more like terrified. These children were a lot more breakable than Quaffles, which he was more used to catching and even then he often dropped them.

Some of Harry's hand-eye coordination and reflexes appeared to have rubbed off since Monday, however, and he continued to catch six more in succession, setting them down safely on the pavement. Some cried, some stayed silent.

Harry had just picked up the ninth when a loud bang was heard from the other end of the corridor, and yet another scream as a teacher looked out from the classroom to see what was happening.

There was a cry of "Terrorists!" which was cut short with an audible curse.

All the children were crying now, the tears of young innocents who had no clue as to what was happening around them. Harry dropped the girl quickly and picked up another. There were still at least seven – and Ellyna – left.

Desperate, he picked up two smaller ones at once. Ron's face paled when he saw what was coming, but he caught each one one-handed and set them down.

The door burst open. The remaining five children screamed as Death Eaters burst into the room.

Harry was suddenly frozen in place as one of them raised his hand at their teacher, who was desperately trying to shield them with her body.

"Avada Kedavra!" Of course. It would be Voldemort himself who walked into the room where Harry was standing, forced to watch the carnage. Ellyna fell to the ground, leaving the children exposed.

Two of them ran for the window, pushing past Harry as he egged them on, yelling. "Go! All of you! Get out!"

One of them was cut down, a chubby fair-haired boy who could have been Dudley's younger brother. The other, leaner and darker, made it to the window and threw himself out.

The Death Eaters and Voldemort laughed as he screamed, believing that he fell to his death, but did not go to the window. They cornered the remaining three – two boys and a girl, and killed them quickly.

Apparently they had got bored with the slow effects of Cruciatus after the first two floors, and just wanted to finish the job. They screamed just before the curses stopped their hearts.

Harry screamed too, his scar burning nearly as badly as it had in the Defence classroom, almost an age ago, it seemed now. He could hear Ron screaming, too.

"Hide them!" he yelled through his screams, knowing that the Death Eaters could not hear him. "Hide them!"

Perhaps Ron heard him. Voldemort turned to the window where Harry was still frozen in place. He stood there for a minute, calculating. Then he turned away, following his Death Eaters out of the room, and Harry –

~*~

Woke up.

He sat bolt upright. He took no notice of the assembled people who were in the room. He had to get back. Somehow, he had to get back.

"Harry! Are you ok?"

He was in the hospital wing, and Ron lay beside him. He wrenched himself out of bed and launched himself at Ron, who was beginning to stir.

"Oh no you don't!" he growled, and pulled Ron's right hand towards him. Their scars met.

~*~

They were huddled behind a bush in the school playground. It was cramped, and all the children were crying as the screams started to fade.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "What happened?"

"No time!" Harry breathed. He let go of Ron's hand. Nothing happened. He breathed a sigh of relief. "We have to get out of here!"

"We should wait for them to leave."

"No. Voldemort can sense everything – he'll know these kids are here even if he can't tell we are. How many are there?"

"Death Eaters? How should I know?"

"I meant the kids."

"Twelve."

"Twelve?" Harry breathed. So little saved. So much lost. But he had to make sure they really were saved. "Is there a back way out of this playground, do you know?" he asked the assembled children.

"There's a loose plank behind the swings," sniffed the girl with the teddy bear, who seemed, despite her shock to be the least awed by the two of them.  "I'll show you."

"No time to creep," said Harry. "Run!"

They ran. The girl pushed aside the plank and the rest followed her through onto the street. Harry and Ron walked through the fence, much to the awe of their small audience.

"Now what?" Ron asked.

"We have to get them safe, and get some Aurors to go to the school," said Harry, working it out in his head.

"Any of you lot got wizard parents?" he asked the kids, without much hope.

Surprisingly, the blonde girl with the teddy bear put up her hand. "My mum's  a witch," she said tentatively.

"No she's not!" said one of the other girls. "I've seen her, she wears aprons with flowers on and bakes cookies. Nice ones. Witches wear all black and they're evil!"

"No they're not!" screamed the blonde girl. "Some witches are nice! My Daddy's a Muggle," she explained to Harry and Ron. "We live just up the road."

Ron looked at Harry. "What do you think?"

Harry looked down at the girl. "Does your mum talk to people in the fire, sometimes?"

"Sometimes," she agreed. "Some of the people are very odd. I've got an uncle who's a wizard and he stays over sometimes, too. He's there now."

Harry looked back at Ron. "It's worth a try," he said.

~*~

Harry was kneeling by Ron's bed, his eyes closed as though in some sort of trance, their hands clasped as though Ron was on a deathbed. Hermione was one the edge of her seat, chewing her fingernails avidly. The others all sat on chairs or the edges of beds, watching them.

"I don't get it," Neville was saying. "His dreams are always so horrible. Why would he want to get back into them?"

He was growing tired of the half-explanations, the irritated glances, as though everyone there would be a lot more comfortable about speaking with each other if he left.

He'd already run all the way back up to Dumbledore's office to give the dog a detailed report about what Harry had done in the five seconds he had been awake, and then run all the way back again.

What spooked him was that the dog had actually listened to him, the way a human does when you are telling them something very important. Dogs just didn't do that, Neville knew.

His great-aunt had once had a dog, a little corgie that barked whenever you got within a ten-foot radius of it. If you tried to talk to it, it would just go back to sleep, or give you a whacking great bite.

It was uncanny.

As usual, no one answered him. Somewhere along the lines, someone had briefly explained that Harry and Ron were having a shared dream, although Neville did not understand how this was possible.

Someone had also explained that Harry was the anchor stone of this dream. If Harry woke up, then Ron would as well, so to get back into the dream and keep Ron with him, they needed to be touching – though why Harry had bothered to reach over him and grab Ron's right hand rather than his left was an unexplained concept.

"Run!" Harry suddenly yelled, and the sound echoed around the room like the bells of death.

"Harry?" squeaked Hermione again. There was no more sound from them – they just sat there, Harry in school black and Ron in sky-blue.

"I just wish I could help them," said Remus, his head in his hands. Sirius wouldn't half be pacing if he was here, he thought. That's what he does when he's worried. He paces. He's probably doing it up there, too.

Dumbledore merely sat silently, sighing occasionally but otherwise in quite a trance.

Lavender had arrived with Professor McGonagall not too long ago, and Wendy had sent Lavender back to Gryffindor tower.

Lavender hadn't looked too pleased that Neville was staying and she wasn't, but Neville had given her a wink that he hoped she had interpreted as a request to tell the rest of the class – or indeed, most of Gryffindor – as to the current situation.

Professor McGonagall looked tired. Just five minutes ago she had clutched at her breast and gasped. "It's nothing," she said when she was asked what was wrong. "It's gone."

The way she said 'It's gone' seemed to imply something else other than pain, but no one asked her. She seemed puzzled herself, and simply sat in a chair, staring into space.

It was quiet, too quiet. Neville almost wished for the screaming to start again. What was going on?

~*~

"But," Ron panted as they tore across the road, "If she's a witch – how can she see us?"

"She said her mum was a witch – she never said that she was one herself," said Harry, unsure of himself. Ron had raised an interesting point though – how were they going to talk to the girl's mother if she couldn't see or hear them?

There was no traffic here, on this quiet suburban street in the middle of the school day. It was quite eerie.

Harry was carrying one of the girls on his back – Ron had another. Their weight was weighing them down, and Harry's charge was so terrified that she was nearly strangling him.

Eventually the blonde girl, whose name was Jenny, stopped outside a thatched cottage. "Here," she panted, clutching at a stitch in her side.

"Good," squeaked another girl, practically collapsing. "Can't – run – any – more."

"Me – neither," wheezed one of the boys, who had confessed too late that he had asthma.

"Come on, you lot," growled Harry. "Just another few steps 'till you're safely inside."

They groaned, but they followed him. To them, perhaps, he was like a P.E teacher – the last thing you wanted to do was what they told you, but for some reason you did it anyway.

Harry and Ron lowered their charges to the floor, who seemed relieved to finally be on solid ground once again.

Jenny knocked on the door, and a smiling, chubby woman in a flowery apron opened the door. Her face fell when she saw the eleven children surrounding her own daughter. She quite obviously could not see Harry and Ron.

"Oh – darling – what are you doing here? Did you walk all the way from school by yourself? But it's only half-past two; school hasn't finished yet, surely? And you are all these little friends of yours, then? I recognise Rachel, and Jennifer, but dear – your birthday isn't until next week…" she was utterly bewildered. Great.

"Jenny," said Harry quickly. "Tell her the school was attacked by Death Eaters."

Jenny repeated this message faithfully.

Her mother gasped and put her hands to her mouth. "Jenny, darling…"

"Tell her there are two boys here that she can't see," said Harry, before the woman could burst into another never-ending sentence.

"She can't see you?" said Jenny, confused. "How strange."

"Jenny, dear?" The poor lady sounded even more puzzled than before.

"Oh – er – Harry says to tell you that him and Ron are here, but you can't see them."

"Death Eaters?" the woman repeated, apparently not hearing her daughter. "Where are they?"

"At the school," said Jenny.

"They took over!" volunteered the dark-skinned boy.

"But we got away," said Jenny, glaring at him.

"Come in," said her mother quickly. "Come in, all of you."

"Jenny," Harry said, as the woman closed the door behind them.  "Is your Dad at home?"

"No," said Jenny, sounding surprised. "He works all day."

Harry swore. He would have to make do with Jenny as his interpreter.

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

"Emma Warnes."

"All right, listen up," he said to her. "I want you to repeat everything I say to your mum, word for word, ok?"

"Ok," she said.

"Jenny," sighed Mrs. Warnes, slumping on an armchair. "Who are you talking to?"

Ron got all the other children to sit down while Harry said, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Warnes. My name is Harry Potter. You can't see me, so I am speaking through Jenny."

Jenny faithfully repeated this.

Emma Warnes' eyes widened. "Harry Potter? Where are you?" she asked, looking around on the wrong side of the room.

"Show her where Harry is, Jenny," said Ron. Jenny pointed. Her mother looked up.

"All right," she said, breathing heavily. "What's happened?"

"Just now, Lord Voldemort attacked the school just down the road," said Harry, with Jenny repeating – although she had trouble pronouncing his name.

"You-Know-Who?" Emma gasped, clutching at her heart. "But – he's –"

"Back," Harry said quickly. "I saw him come back last year. He's been attacking everywhere for the last few months. I need you to send word to the ministry as soon as possible, and get some Aurors up here to do what they can before they all leave. We may still be able to save some of the students."

The woman nodded.

"I wouldn't mention his name though," said Harry, as an afterthought. "Just tell them there's a Death Eater attack. I'm pretty sure they'll all come running. They'll probably want to question the children so I'd contact their families and tell them where they are if possible."

"My god," said the Mrs. Warnes. "All the children – my son! I've got a son at that school! What if –"

"The Aurors will take care of it," said Harry, a lot less sure than he sounded. "Do what you can, please."

And with that, he and Ron left. The children called out goodbyes as they walked through the walls. Once outside, they could see the school – better than before for one reason. It was on fire.

They didn't need to discuss it – they ran straight for it.

Death Eaters stood in the playground, laughing as they shot final burning charms at the papers and wooden desks from outside the window. On the top floor, children still screamed.

Ignoring the Death Eaters – there was nothing they could do about that anymore – they ran through the walls of the building and reached the stairs. They couldn't even feel the heat – the fire had no effect on them.

When they reached the fourth floor, it took them precious minutes to find the rooms that still had people in them. They walked through the doors to find bodies, smouldering or consumed with flames – tiny bodies.

Only the last room held anyone still alive. There were six children by the window, and when Harry and Ron materialised through the solid wood of the door, they only screamed even louder.

"You have to get out!" Harry yelled. "Out the window!"

The noise of the fire made it almost impossible for them to hear – but they seemed to gather that the boys were there to help them. They ran across the room, clinging to their clothes and sobbing.

"No!" shouted Ron, but there was nothing he could do to make them understand. They were too young, too frightened.

Harry was already hoisting one onto his back and another onto his shoulders.

"Are you mad?" Ron yelled through the smoke. "You'll fall!"

"I won't die. They will anyway," Harry yelled back. "Help me!"

Ghost-tears ran down Ron's cheeks as he hoisted another child onto Harry's back. Harry sagged under the weight, but he somehow managed to do the same for Ron, so that they were each burdened with three children.

"I'll go first," said Harry, but Ron shook his head and made his way over to the window. One leg, two legs. Grab. Slide.

Something below yelled a curse. One of the children on his back fell with a scream. The other two shrieked and held on tighter. Ron closed his ears to the thud she made when she hit the earth.

Harry was above him. Ron preyed that the pipe would take both their weights.

Harry looked down, and his head spun. Focus. He heard the scream of one of Ron's children, he gritted his teeth and yelled at his own to hold on tight.

The Death Eaters below them were shouting – they obviously couldn't work out how six - five children were floating in mid-air, apparently clinging to nothing but still afloat.

Scream. The weight on Harry's back lightened considerably, and Ron ducked as the boy went hurtling past him.

"Mummy!" shrieked the girl on his shoulders. Her arms obscured his eyes, and he slipped. All three of them screamed as he plummeted – but somehow he got a hold of the pipe again, his feet inches from Ron's head.

BANG!

The Aurors had arrived. Harry could hear the pop! pop! pop! of apparition and disapparition all over the playground as the Death Eaters left.

"Stay where you are!" Harry yelled to Ron, who didn't need telling twice. "Hold on!" he yelled to the crying children on his back.

After only minutes, there was silence.

~*~

Harry had screamed again. Ron had tears rolling down his cheeks. They were both breathing heavily as though running.

Hermione watched them, her fingers still in her mouth. What had she done? It had been her stupid idea – to get Harry and Ron into a duel with Wendy and then whisper to the class to start throwing curses whenever their back was turned.

At the time she'd thought it would be fun – even though Harry couldn't use his arm and only Ron could fight. Oh well, she had thought. She could get her revenge on Harry another time. But this…

It had to have something to do with their Blood Brother bond, she knew, from looking at Wendy and receiving an answering nod. They'd talked about it – all of them – when Neville had gone upstairs on some unnamed errand. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Remus and Pomfrey all knew – they had since this morning. She couldn't help feeling a little guilty. Perhaps Harry and Ron had decided to tell her tonight, after lessons? She'd never forgive herself it that was the case.

"Stay where you are!" Harry yelled. "Hold on!" His eyes were tight shut, his knuckles white where they touched Ron's.

Please, Hermione thought. Please let them come through this safely.

~*~

A voice below called – "You up there! Come down! It's all safe!"

"Go on!" Harry hissed, his fingers slipping on the pipe.

"Can we trust them?"

"Go!"

Ron went. Together they slid down the drainpipe, the children sobbing into their robes. When they landed, they turned to face the Aurors. There were at least thirty of them. Harry thought he even recognised a few, but could not recall any names.

They were staring, wands poised, at the four children hanging in midair.

"Come on," Harry whispered. "Get down."

Ron also relieved himself of his charges. His stomach was ready to turn inside out. He tried not to look at the mangled bodies of the boy and the girl who had fallen.

"Let's go," Harry sighed, surveying the Aurors with caution. "We can't do anything more."

He reached out his right hand, and Ron took it, turning to take a final look at the girl he had failed.

~*~

They stirred. They awoke.

Harry let go of Ron's hand and slumped against the bed. The first thing Ron did was to be violently sick in the basin on the bedside table. He counted himself lucky to have made it that far.

Hermione made for Ron – Remus ran to Harry. He lifted him up easily and put him back on the bed, where he sat upright, tears flowing silently from his eyes.

"How – can you?" Ron stammered, after Madam Pomfrey had removed the basin. "How – can you – stand it? Most horrible thing…"

Harry didn't answer, he pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them.

"Ron?" Hermione asked. Ron looked up at her as though she was from a different planet.

"Hermione?" After a brief second, Hermione hugged him. Ron burst into tears over her shoulder and held her tightly.

"So – sorry –" he said between sobs.  "Sorry I didn't – tell you…"

Hermione's heart broke.

"That's ok," she said, pulling herself onto the bed beside him.

"So many… couldn't save them… that girl… I saw her…"

Remus watched Harry helplessly, glancing at Madam Pomfrey who came over and touched his arm.

"I'm fine!" he growled, pulling away from her. He half-pushed, half-threw himself off the bed and went to Ron.

"How can you stand it?" Ron asked him, almost accusingly, letting go of Hermione to meet his eyes. "How? I saw that girl – I saw her, Harry! Just lying there, all broken…"

"I lost one too," Harry whispered, barely audible to everyone in the room. The look in Ron's eyes scared him.

"It was the most – horrible thing – I've ever seen in my life," Ron gasped. "And all the children – trapped inside… can't believe…"

Harry looked away. He'd seen them too. Piles of them, engulfed in fire.

"Jenny's brother!" Ron suddenly screamed. "Emma's son! There's no way he could have survived!"

"I know," said Harry, willing him to stop talking. Remus was staring at them in horror – so was Neville.

Ron gave himself up to Hermione again. Harry stood up, and leant against the bedpost. Sixteen. They'd saved sixteen. Out of a school of maybe hundreds.

Professor McGonagall was there. Harry stared at her. Ellyna. They couldn't save Ellyna.

Professor Dumbledore stood up. "Harry?"

"A school," Harry managed to say. "A Muggle primary school."

There was silence except for Ron's gasps of sorrow. Professor McGonagall met his eyes, and something passed between them. She bowed her head.

"Professor – I –" Harry started. "I'm sorry – we tried…"

"Poor Ellyna," Ron sobbed. "She could have got out – they never had a chance…"

"I… I don't understand…" said Neville. Harry looked at him. What was he doing here? How much did he know? He turned back to Dumbledore.

"He was there," he told the Headmaster. "In person. They killed as many as they could and then set the place on fire. We saved as many as we could –"

"How?"

"Muggles can see us. Muggles and squibs. We got twelve out at the start and four more through the fire. Aurors sorted the Death Eaters out but I don't think there were any casualties."

Dumbledore bowed his head.

"Sir –" he had to know. He just had to. If he had been there – "Was Professor Snape… I mean…"

"Professor Snape has been in the castle all afternoon," Dumbledore informed him softly.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. He could never have looked at Snape again if he knew that he had been part of the raid – even if – apparently, he had fought against it at the start.

Wendy came forward and hugged him. He couldn't help making the front of her robes a little wet.

"Dumbledore!" the voice came from the fireplace, where another old man's head was resting.

"Yes, Barny?" said Dumbledore, with the tone of a man who knows what is coming.

"There's been another attack I'm afraid. A children's primary school in Kent. Over three hundred killed. Look, I wouldn't have bothered you, you'd have found out anyway, only the woman who reported the attack was blabbering some nonsense about Harry Potter in her living room, and there were some funny goings on afterwards as well. I don't suppose you'd be able to shed some light on the situation?"

"Ah. What sort of goings-on?"

"Well, the bastards set the place on fire, but when we arrived there were four kids hanging in mid-air just opposite a drainpipe, and two more dead on the ground underneath them, like they'd fallen. It looked like they were holding onto something, and when we told them to come down they moved like something invisible was carrying them down that drainpipe. Now I'm a wizard – and I still found that disturbing. Whatever it was disappeared once the kiddies were safe on the ground. What do you think?"

"Have you got Alastor and Mundy over there?"

"Of course."

"Very well. I'll be with you in five minutes."

The head disappeared.

Everyone turned to stare at Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron stared at each other.

"Three hundred?" Ron whispered. It sounded a lot more real now that they had a number.

Harry sat down on his bed, hard. "Three hundred. Sixteen out of three hundred."

"And all the teachers."

"Yes."

"You climbed down a drainpipe outside a burning building?" Hermione squeaked.

"I wasn't afraid of the fire," said Ron. "The fire couldn't hurt me."

"I want words with the man who built that drainpipe though," said Harry, still in utter shock. "Drainpipes are for climbing down. There weren't even any handholds."

They didn't even notice when Madam Pomfrey force-fed them Dreamless Sleep potion.

Wendy caught Harry as he collapsed under its influence, and arranged him comfortably on the bed.

"I will see you all later," said Dumbledore, hastening towards the door. Neville – up to my office if you please. Then you may return to your common room." He left.

"Well," said Wendy, looking around at Poppy, Minerva, Remus and Hermione. "That's it then, isn't it?"

*****

** Bit of a sad chapter, that one. Hum de hum. Two chapters in as many days! Aren't you proud of me? **grin**

Laterose **