Author's note: okay long, long chapter, including information which we only find out in OotP, but I thought, what ther hell. Also, I purposely didn't even try to involve any of the things I believe JK will do for her ending, because I know I would fall hopelessly short.

Some people asked me some questions, so I'll answer them:

Stonecoldfox - I think that's the best compliment a writer can get for a character, that my character is so real. I believe this comes from the fact that her voice is so definite in my head. So clear that I actually hear and see her saying these things, all her inflections and mannerisms are very definite to me. I don't imagine anyone in particular, like an actor, in the role, but if I had to choose I would probably choose Helena Bonham Carter, but I imagine Deb taller. Emma Thompson would be good too, but as you say, sadly she's too old. Angelina Jolie could do it, maybe…I don't know…no one perfectly fits the bill.

Ana Morales – 'Prelude to a kiss' this title will make sense in this chapter.

To those of you who have complimented me, particularly those who tell me this is their favourite story of all time, (taijyasango, stonecoldfox) I am just delighted you're enjoying it. Now I feel like I have to live up to that, but that's my own neurosis talking there. I just hope everyone keeps on enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it.

Everything, apart from minor additions here and there, belongs to they who must be deeply respected, JK Rowling and George Bernard Shaw. All thanks to them and my computer.

Chapter 15 – What goes up…

On the 13th of April, everyone at Hogwarts was stretched as thin as paper. Professor McGonagall couldn't get through a class without bursting into tears and Professor Flitwick had begun to stutter terribly. Many people had noticed the absence of certain Slytherins and rumors were beginning to fly about them being inducted into the death Eaters in time for the final battle.

"I dunno Hermione," Harry shook his head as they sat down to dinner, "It just sounds impossible. How is she going to change their minds?"

"Trust me," Hermione replied, "She can be very persuasive when she wants to be. Socrates himself would have trouble keeping up."

"Who in hell is Socrates?" Ron asked.

"Never mind," Hermione waved a hand, "The point is, when the time comes, they'll be right beside us, not their parents."

Professor Dumbledore stood up to speak to the students of Hogwarts. His ancient body stood before them with the spark of purpose in his eye.

"It seems unfair that I must do this to all of you, so young and untainted by the garish nature of war. You will all soon see the worst of it. My dear students, soon these walls will be faced again by the darkest of Dark Magic. Lord Voldemort will attempt to conquer Hogwarts, the last bastion of opposition, as he sees it."

There was a shudder or terrified whispering, and Dumbledore permitted it for some time, but soon silenced them with a calm wave of his hand.

"You will be asked to face him and his followers, you will most likely see many things that shouldn't be seen by anyone, not least young wizards and witches. The chance of death is substantial. But still it is unlikely. Wizards and Witches from around the world have descended on England and will soon be within these walls and will all stand to protect you from danger."

At that very moment, every member of the Order of the Phoenix burst through the doors, followed by a throng of people Hermione didn't recognize. The order itself had been expanded, there were many new members, but these people were new again, and came in all shapes and sizes.

"Ah, and here come our first platoon."

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin led the party to the front of the hall. Mundungus fletcher, Tonks, Arthur and Molly Weasley, even Arabella Figg, the well-known squib, was part of this quasi army. Ministry workers of all sorts had also turned up, though Cornelius Fudge was clearly absent. He had fled to China.

Dumbledore waved his hand and a table appeared in front of the Staff table, where the group sat down. Almost directly afterwards the door once again burst open and in came Deborah and Professor Snape, followed by twelve new guests. Draco Malfoy et al were looking sad, but proud, maintaining dignity.

"Ah," Said Deborah, "I see we aren't the first to bring guests."

"Good Evening Deborah, I trust all is…as it should be."

"All is perfect, Albus. Everything is as it should be. Perhaps you would like to introduce my guests?"

"Certainly. Students, Deborah has brought with her twelve children of Death Eaters. They have chosen to fight with us against their parents, and we all ask that you treat them with due respect. It takes courage to stand up to an enemy, more to stand up to a friend and yet the most to stand up to one's parents. They have chosen to help us, to fight for justice and good, and you should understand how difficult that can be, after a life surrounded by evils."

There was a deathly and uncertain silence following Dumbledore's words. Hermione could hardly believe Deborah had managed it. She may have assured the boys, but she wasn't sure herself. But here they were, looking pale and unsure, slightly shy and most of all, penitent. She decided she must, as head girl and as one who suffered by the Death Eaters, show her respect. She slowly rose to her feet and began to clap.

All eyes shot at her, but she looked only towards Deborah's group, who returned her gaze with awkward incomprehension. They didn't understand why she was clapping. Draco especially, seemed baffled by this. Deborah winked at her.

Harry clued in to Hermione's thoughts, bolted up, dragging Ron with him, and began to applaud. Ron too, when he was standing. The staff table and the guest table began to stand too. Ironically it was the Gryffindors who were the first students to stand, followed by Slytherin, then Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw; the sound of applause slowly beginning to ring louder and louder, like the first rains slowly building up to a tumultuous downpour. And when every soul in the hall was standing and cheering wildly, Deborah turned to her group and smiled. "All for one and one for all."

The next days followed quickly, the students being urged to take the new guests in with open arms. And so they did, as had been done at the Triwizard tournament. The Quidditch pitch was alive with action, as were rehearsals, which were being supervised by Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, though effectively directed by Dean, who was not actually playing a role. Were it not for the pending war, one might have thought Hogwarts a Magical utopia. Despite the reports of Azkaban being penetrated and prisoners escaping, there was laughter everywhere; the corridors positively rang with it. Harry himself, who knew he would be in the thickest of the thick of the battle, had lost himself many a time in a conversation with a Texan boy about the marvels of the Phantom broomstick. The teachers had now abandoned classes and were taking to simply acting like children. Professor Vector had charmed the lake outside to splash water on anyone who passed. Madame Pomfrey had put whoopee cushions in all the hospital wing beds.

But all was not well everywhere. In the deepest dungeons sat three morose figures in the light of one fireplace. One held a mask, one held a vial and one held a bottle of Whiskey.

"Okay Severus," Deborah poured three shots, "If ever there was a time to drink yourself silly, this would be the time, and I think, after all our hard work we deserve it. Hermione." She passed Hermione a shot glass, and offered Severus but he shook his head.

"I'd prefer not to."

"Hermione, this is one of those rare occasions in life where you see something you've always wanted to see, but once you see it you realize you don't want to see it because of what it means. Behold, Severus Snape is afraid."

"It's not a joke, Deborah, it's my life."

"I know that." She said seriously.

"Then why do you laugh at me?"

"I'm not laughing at you, Severus. I'm actually making Hermione see the gravity of the situation. Please have a drink." He took it but did not drink. Deborah, however, threw hers down her throat and threw the glass into the fireplace, where it shattered. "Go on, Hermione. Don't forget to throw the glass" She looked at it dubiously in the half-light of the fire, chucked it back and threw the glass, and hers too shattered. She felt like she'd been hit in the face.

"That's the way," Deborah nodded approvingly, "Severus, your turn."

He grudgingly sculled it, hardly effected by it's potency. He held the glass

"Is there something you want to say, Severus?" Deborah asked.

"No."

"You sure about that?" Deborah asked skeptically.

"I'm sure."

"Maybe you should have another drink. This time I think you should throw the glass at the fireplace. Nice and hard."

She took his shot glass from him and poured it to overflowing.

"Go on. If ever there was a time…"

He sat for a moment, looking at her. Hermione saw the fear and pain in his eyes. The same innocent sharpness there that she had seen when he'd woken from his coma. It was truly frightening, to see him frightened.

He snatched the glass and poured it down his throat, and quickly smashed the glass against the wall of the fireplace as he jumped restlessly to his feet.

"Now is there something you want to say?" Deborah repeated.

"If…If something goes wrong…" He paced along the fireplace wall.

"Nothing will go wrong." Deborah interjected

"But if it does, Deborah, if it does…" He sounded desperate, like a man on his deathbed, only with more energy, "I want you to stay here. I want you to teach here. And help Dumbledore."

"It won't be necessary, but, as you wish."

"And my money. You must both share it. Hermione, I want you to have Snape Manor."

"What?" What on earth was he talking about? What Manor? And what was he giving it to her for? What the hell was he on about?

"You have no home in the wizard world, nowhere to go after this. I want you to have mine if something happens."

"You know what would be more useful to this girl, Severus? If you offered her your home with you in it. It's all well and good to give her an empty house, but it's not going to be empty after the battle. And then what? You'll be alive and she'll still have nowhere to go."

"I have places to go," Hermione argued, "I'm sure I'd be welcome at Grimmauld place, or The Burrow, and I've still got my parents' house."

"You won't be happy in those places, Hermione. You don't need to be around while Harry and Ginny and bonking like rabbits, and the Burrow is absolutely crawling with all walks of life and death. Your parents' house is miles from the wizarding community. You need to be somewhere with your own space, but near your friends. Snape Manor can offer you those things, but it's not going to be empty. It will have a Snape in it."

"Are you suggesting Hermione come and live with me?!" Snape growled incredulously. "I can't conceive of anything less appropriate!"

"I can." Deborah replied. "Not having her come and live with you. I'd offer my house but she'd be sleeping on books or on top of me. She'd have to wash her dishes and iron her clothes. At your house she is free to pursue worthy interests."

"She's my student."

"But she won't be soon."

He paused, glaring at Deborah, and pointed an accusing finger.

"You're just trying to keep me from thinking about it."

"Thinking about what?" Deborah asked innocently.

"You know what. What I have to do." He paced again.

"Can you blame me? And besides, now is as good a time as any to discuss what Hermione might want to do after Hogwarts."

"Why is she discussing it with us? She has her friends. She can discuss it with them."

"Yes, them. Who have as much experience as she does. Severus, you can't distance yourself from her just because you're toying with the idea that you might die. Now tell her she can move in with you."

He pinched the brow of his nose. "Hermione, if you want to move into Snape manor, you can do that…Whether or not I am there."

"What about me?" Deborah asked.

"What about you?"

"Can I move in?"

"You've got a house!" He was very frustrated.

"So?"

"So what do you need mine for!"

"I don't need anything. But maybe I want to move in. I think it would be good for us. For all of us."

"You're an abominable pain in the arse, Deborah. Move in if you want. But you'll have to ask Hermione, if it's her house."

"What do you think Hermione?"

Hermione felt like she'd been hit in the face…a number of times. She'd started this evening off with no conceptions of the future whatsoever. Now was in line to inherit a Manor, half a fortune and was being asked for lodgings. Soon they'd be arranging her marriage.

"If you want…I suppose. But only if you agree to stop making bets, Deborah. Neither of us need another tattoo. And only if Severus agrees to…smile, once in a while."

Deborah nodded keenly, whereas Severus merely crossed his arms and dipped his head curtly. There was a period of silence, in which Hermione looked dubiously between Deborah and Severus, Severus glared irately at Deborah and Hermione, and Deborah grinned manically at Hermione and Severus. Deborah slowly lifted herself from her chair and began to sing one hell of an infernal song, commonly pertaining to one purple dinosaur.

"I love you, you love me,

We're one happy family…"

"Gods, Deborah don't," Severus groaned. She put an arm around his shoulder and beckoned Hermione, who slowly, hesitantly got to her feet. As she approached, Deborah threw her other arm around Hermione and continued.

"With a great big hug and a kiss from me to you,

Won't you say you love me too? And again! Sing it with me!"

Deborah sang loud and long, Hermione sang timidly and Severus growled softly and furiously. How he knew it, Hermione wasn't sure, but hearing him sing it was scarier than the fear in his eyes, that was for sure.

After five rounds of the most annoying song in history, Deborah released them and they sat down again. Deborah poured a few more rounds, which were all subsequently consumed and shattered in the fireplace. They began to laugh after a while, they joked and teased each other, and Severus did actually smile once or twice. But in a lull in the conversation, he suddenly changed the mood.

"I think I'm going to die tomorrow."

"What makes you think that?" Deborah slid off her chair and onto the ground.

"I think I'm going to make it back to Hogwarts, but as soon and Voldemort is gone, Lucius or someone will realize it was my doing and kill me."

"That is a legitimate fear, but one that we can protect you from."

"How?"

"It's in Hermione's hand right now." She pointed to the vial Hermione held. "We made more than enough. I think you, Hermione and I could all have and there'd still be plenty for Voldemort. Of course, if someone tried to kill you, you'd need another dose…"

"Hold on Deborah," Hermione butted in, "Why didn't we make enough for everyone? Then no one would have to die."

Deborah sighed. "It doesn't quite work that way, Hermione. What if people don't want to live for one hundred and twenty years? Dumbledore doesn't want to, for one. And besides, to give it to everyone would be to disturb the natural fabric of life. That's why I haven't taken it myself before now, and why my parents didn't take it."

"Then why do you have it?"

"We used it when people got sick, or if someone went away and we wanted them to come back. But it's a more complex thing than that, Hermione. This potion, it's ancient. It goes back more than three thousand years to my ancestors who were leaders of their community. The people decided that they wanted their leaders to live for as long as possible because my family was so good at it. One after the other all counseled the people and kept the peace. So naturally, the people wanted to have them around for as long as possible. So a very clever man by the name of Jareth, he made this potion, with slightly different ingredients. Over the years it has been altered for the better, and my family has only ever used it when in the capacity of a leader to a people. To simply dish it out to everyone would be wrong."

"But Voldemort is evil. And wrong."

"And two wrongs don't make a right. You didn't listen to me in our lessons, did you? I said what makes this world is not good or evil, but a balance. Voldemort may do wrong, but we will win by doing right. Trust me, I've thought about this already."

"It just seems so unfair."

"Excuse me," Severus leaned in aggressively, "Could we perhaps return to me?"

"You're so self-centred, Severus," Deb sighed, took the potion from Hermione and gave it to him. "Well go on then, drink it."

"What if I don't want to live another hundred and twenty years?"

"Well, you're going to have to choose, Severus. Possible death or prolonged life. What's it gonna be?"

He looked at the potion for some time, inspecting the clear, watery liquid. He wondered if it was what he wanted, more life, when it had been so cruel to him already. Why, when he hated his life already, was it so hard to consciously choose to face death? He knew why. It was, to his great annoyance, that infernal song. I love you, you love me… Deb did it on purpose, like everything else. She'd made him feel like he would be missed. Like her life would be lacking without him. And she'd dragged Hermione into the equation, poor girl. He knew he had some responsibility to her now, but did it include this? Would these two women make his life better or worse? Would they make or mar him? Was it worth finding out?

Apparently Deborah got tired of waiting. "For fuck's sake, Severus, after all we've been through. JUST DRINK THE BLOODY POTION!"

She ripped it from his hand, pinched his nose until he opened his mouth and then poured it down his gaping throat. He gulped and struggled and choked, but it all went down, the faint metallic taste of blood on his tongue, mingled with the taste of the smell of the first day of spring.

"There," She said triumphantly, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

The next morning, on the very day of, Dumbledore insisted that every person on the grounds be in the Great Hall from two o'clock onwards. Deborah and Tonks organized games and sang songs and generally kept everyone's spirits up. The women seemed to have inordinate energy. It spilled forth from their being at every opportunity. They hardly knew each other, but it hardly mattered. They appeared somehow to be kindred spirits, friends from another life.

At five o'clock, Severus very quietly exited through a side door. Hermione instantly looked to Deborah, who lifted her sunglasses, smiled and winked. Hermione was heartened and turned her energy back to Harry, who was tensing and looking very pale indeed. Everyone was sitting around him, All the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus, Arabella Figg, and Hermione.

"Harry, You're going to do us proud," Molly said firmly, "You're going to save the world."

"You did it once without even knowing it," Bill reminded him, "You can do it again tonight."

"It's not the same and you all know it. What if I get it wrong? What if this new wand doesn't work? What if he doesn't do what he expects? What if I sneeze?"

Dumbledore had given him a new wand. One that wouldn't react as his normal one had done last time.

"Come on Harry," Ron punched him cheerfully in the arm, "D'you really think Dumbledore would put you through this if he didn't think you could do it?"

"Ron's right," Hermione agreed, "Dumbledore wouldn't make you do this unless he was absolutely confident it would work. And it will."

Harry was silent. He was silent all through dinner, and all through Dumbledore's explanation of what would happen. The tables were magicked away and everyone was put in a particular position. The muggle-born students were all boxed in by the wizard-born students, who were boxed in by the teachers and other wizards. Dumbledore was at the back, With Remus and Sirius on either side, and Deborah at the front. On either side of Deborah were the twelve Death Eater children, and Harry, on her right side. Hagrid had positioned a number of magical creatures outside the castle walls. His negotiations had been very successful and had managed to recruit quite few, but some for some high prices. There were Dragons, Hippogriffs and Trolls, but he had even convinced a number of Centaurs and Giants to join them, plus Aragog and his larger children, who obviously had a bone to pick with Voldemort. There were also creatures that Hermione had only ever seen in books. Chimeras, with lions' heads and serpents' tails. There were Gryphons, Manticores and Scorpion men, who all looked particularly angry. They weren't going to hold the death eaters off for long, but it could take a few of the inexperienced fighters out. However all the animals had been told not to harm Severus, who had tied a red handkerchief to his robe to be sure they could tell him apart.

New wards had been put on the castle, which would also cut Voldemort's army down. The entrance hall was booby trapped with all kinds of dangers. Gases to cause all kinds of damage, flagstones that had been charmed to bite whole legs off, windows that took heads off. Severus, of course, had charmed his mask to repel gas, and knew exactly how to get around the traps.

They all talked quietly, anxiously, absently, trying to keep as far away from the truth of their predicament. It was like being in a U-boat before hitting the shore. All was Quiet on the Hogwarts front. But Deborah was talking, assuring Harry and giving him a blessing. She put her hands on his head.

"This is a very old blessing. It was given to warriors before battle." She spoke first in an ancient language, uttering every word into his uncomprehending eyes. He had an urge to turn away, but his urge to maintain eye contact was greater. And then it was over, and she continued. "What I said was this: May the Gods bless and keep you, may they give you sight where others are blind. May they firm your footsteps and give you strength when you are weary. You will walk and they will deliver you from terror. They will save you from all troubles. Blessed be. Whether or not you believe in it, Harry, it can't hurt to have all bases covered. Are you afraid?"

He nodded, unable to speak.

"Well, at least we know you haven't lost your mind, right? Do you still want to do this?"

He nodded again.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I could do it, or Albus, or Severus even—"

"I'll do it."

It felt good to hear himself say it. Somehow it strengthened his resolve, to hear himself so confident. And at that very moment a soft bell rang through the hall, throwing a sheet of silence over all.

"Lord Voldemort approaches," Dumbledore declared. Everyone, wands out!"

Everyone whipped a wand out. Even Neville remembered to bring his. Hermione was very grateful for the blessing Deborah had given her and Severus. It was no immortality potion, but there was something comforting about it. A sort of placebo effect.

A rumbling sound vibrated through the foundations of the building, slowly increasing and becoming more detailed. The shrieks of Banshees and Gorgons was clear over the human shouting and yelling.

"The beasts have eliminated at least fifty of them." Dumbledore was using a sort of magical surveillance system. There were mirrors on the outer walls of the Castle that were reflecting everything back to a mirror in his hand. "Ah, but the Scorprion men have only just begun. They seem to have detained the Banshees. The Gorgons are having trouble with the Gryphons. The Dementors, however, are not being stopped. Fortunately we have cast the Patronus Domus spell on the castle. We shall probably be left to deal with about one hundred Death Eaters."

"Well, there are about one hundred fully grown wizards here, not counting the seventh years and the kids," Deborah replied, "It should be an even fight."

"Let us hope the entrance hall is as effective as the beasts." Dumbledore switched mirrors to view the scene in the Entrance Hall as the rumble of battle grew closer and louder.

"Dumbledore, why don't you show everyone what's happening," Remus cried, "The Patronus Domus is a sight to behold."

Dumbledore muttered something to the mirror and it threw its light onto the huge doors to the hall. It showed a huge, muscle-bound man, entirely made of light, who was charging his sword at the dementors. He was completely brutal with them, his strength far outweighing theirs. Hermione attributed this to the fact that so many wonderful things had happened in Hogwarts over the years. The Patronus had hence grown very strong. A Patronus Domus thrives on good times in the building it protects, and can grow to be strong enough to destroy a Dementor, just as this one was. It was absolutely obliterating them, turning them into smoke.

Hermione, however, was watching another part of the scene. Voldemort, closely followed by Severus and the higher Death Eaters, was nearing the door. There were two vicious thuds on the door, and then it was blasted open by Lord Voldemort himself, who was looking triumphant and supreme. His followers soon banded together, and it became clear that there were less than expected. About seventy Death Eaters were standing behind Voldemort, all looking as though they were ready to tear everyone apart. Hermione recognized a few body shapes. She saw the tall, imposing figures of the senior Malfoys, Pettigrew's short, measly body, not to mention Severus and his red handkerchief.

"You've lost, you old fool!" Voldemort crowed over the crowd. It doesn't matter how many of those others you kill. My faithful Death Eaters are still beside me."

"Yes," Deborah interrupted calmly, "Death Eaters. Have you noticed your children are here beside me?"

"Who are you?" Voldemort demanded, as some of his followers recognised their children.

"Excuse me," Deborah said politely, "I wasn't talking to you. Could you wait a moment please? Death Eaters, your children, can you see?"

Voldemort was furious. He pointed his wand at her, hurling all kinds of hexes, which she neatly deflected or avoided. In the meantime, the Death Eaters pushed forward, looking at their children in disbelief.

"Are you ready to kill your own children, Death Eaters? Because I told them that if you truly loved them, you would never point your wands at them."

"Draco!" Lucius angrily, "What are you doing?"

"What I should have done long ago!" Draco called back, on the verge of tears, "I'm NOT making the mistake you made!"

"And you're going to kill him for it." Deborah concluded.

"Crucio!" Voldemort screamed in Deborah's direction. She howled painfully, her body tensed up and she fell to her knees, convulsing heavily. "My faithful servants, kill! Kill them all!" But only the ones without children. With a grand chorus of Expelliarmus, Death Eater wands went flying from every direction and were safely directed by Dumbledore into one of the fireplaces. There was a huge clash and spells shot around the hall like different coloured golden snitches. The crazier Death Eaters simply tried to blast away whole sections of people. the older good wizards threw hexes and binding curses at the enemy, some of whom were so scared that they jumped through the windows. They just weren't ready for battle. The Beasts were waiting for them. But everyone ran out and hurled themselves onto the enemies, stupefying them and re-stupefying them, binding them and rebinding them, giving them sleeping potions and whatever was on hand. All that were left were the parents of the children, Severus and Voldemort.

"What are you waiting for? Destroy the children!" He still held Deborah under his curse, and she was now on her stomach, her face pressed to the floor. She turned haltingly to the children and whispered, "It's now or never kids." And as though his by a universal epiphany, all twelve screamed with all their hearts "AVADA KEDAVRA!!!!!"

The hall filled with bright green jets of light and a great wind nearly blew everyone off the feet. But when the light normalized, twenty-four death eaters were dead on the floor, their eyes wide with the rush of death.

"You can kill all my servants, but I am stronger than ever. I do not need them. All of you together could not destroy me! And now, to Harry Potter." Voldemort turned his wand on Harry and released Deborah, "I do hope I find you well. You couldn't have found me at a better time. I'm better than ever. I'm immortal. I'm going to live forever and rule the world with the true hand of power. No one can stop me. But first I'm going to kill you and that old fool. And then everyone else…Starting with that whore on the floor."

He pointed at Deborah, but looked at Dumbledore, whose eyes were blazing with energy.

"As long as I am alive, you will do no such thing." Dumbledore began to walk towards Voldemort.

"How will you stop me, Dumbledore? You'll soon be dead too. You can't do anything once you're obliterated by my spell."

There was a hail of manic laughter, but oddly enough it was not Voldemort. It was a mellow feminine laughter. Deborah sat up and grinned her huge grin. "Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. You talk the talk, but do you walk the walk?"

Voldemort's mad, red eyes were aflame with irritation.

"Severus, who is this impertinent woman?"

Severus sighed and removed his mask. "She is Deborah Daniels, daughter of Jareth and Ruth Daniels, from whom we stole the potion recipe. She is responsible for this. It is from her we obtained the potion."

"Kill her." Voldemort ordered, "You will kill her and everyone else here, but not before I duel with Harry Potter."

Dumbledore came forward through the crowd and put his hand on Harry shoulder.

"Yes, Harry. Why don't you duel with Tom Riddle?"

"I am Lord Voldemort!" he chuckled. "I have not been Tom Riddle for many years, Albus."

"True enough," Deborah sighed, "But all is not as it may seem. Go on then, have your duel."

Harry stepped forward and bowed. Voldemort laughed derisively and bowed mockingly in return. For a man alone in a room full of enemies, he was extraordinarily cocky and arrogant. Hermione supposed he thought he had reason to be so, but it just seemed sad and pathetic.

"On the count of three, cast your spell," Voldemort ordered as they assumed starting positions, "One, two—"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!!!!" They had said it unison, completely disregarding three. There was another explosion of green light that consumed Harry, Voldemort, Severus and Deborah, but threw everyone else backwards. Another great gust of wind rushed past and there was a loud, high pitched keening from within the cloud of light. Slowly it dissipated, and the keening subsided, exposing the outcome. There on the floor lay Voldemort's body, sprawled across the floor, his fiery eyes now stone cold. And at Harry's feet, crumpled, face down and motionless, lay Deborah Daniels.

Dumbledore hastened to Harry and made sure he was alright.

"She threw herself in front of me…the spell…she…"

Severus ran to her body and kneeled beside her, raising her face to him. He lightly brushed the stray hairs out of her face.

"Deborah…" He whispered, "Deborah, wake up…" Hermione pushed through the crowd and kneeled on Deborah's other side. She lightly shook her arm, her limp, lifeless arm.

"Get up, Deb!" She whimpered. "You must get up!" Tear pooled and blurred her vision, "Deb, wake up!"

Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked into Dumbledore's solemn face.

"Hermione…" He murmured. But she wasn't interested.

"Deborah! Wake up right now!" The tears fell and landed on Deborah's tattooed arm. She felt the eyes watching her, but she didn't care. "Deborah! Deborah…" She threw her arms over Deborah's body and weeped, while Severus continued to brush away hairs. All of a sudden there was a burst of mellow, feminine laughter that shook the body Hermione was resting on. Hermione jumped off and saw Deborah's recently deceased face was now utterly overflowing with laughter. Deborah's deceased body hauled itself up into sitting position, and her deceased arms slapped her deceased thighs in hysterics.

"Sorry," her deceased mouth said, "I couldn't resist." Everyone simply stared at her in disbelief and confusion. She had survived the curse…how?

"Deborah?" Severus inquired, "How did you---"

But Deborah just beamed at him and pat him on the shoulder.

"Severus," Dumbledore sighed, "She took the potion. She tricked us." Severus rose to his feet angrily, regaining his firm presence.

"Come on," Deborah chuckled, "You've got to admit that was funny."

"Funny?" Severus growled, "That isn't funny, Deborah. It's wrong to toy with people's emotions."

 "Well, a year from now you'll think it's funny." She jumped to her feet and looked around. "What's everybody waiting for? Death Eaters are still here."

"I think they want an explanation," Hermione offered angrily.

"Explanations later. Death Eater disposal now."

People began to move. The death Eaters were put in cuffs and attached to a long chain. The older wizards and Aurors put a spell on them that mimicked the effects of a Dementor's kiss temporarily, then led them out of the castle grounds, where they would apparate to Ministry Headquarters. A real Dementor was waiting for them there.

Those that were dead were taken outside where Filch and Mundungus Fletcher were building a large bonfire for bodies of death eaters. Severus and Harry took Voldemort's body out. Professor McGonagall helped Draco take his parents out, and Hermione helped a young French girl take her father. There was also a procession of black wagons to take the dead to a cemetery. Among the mourners were the Weasleys, who solemnly took Percy's body out, and Albus took his brother Aberfoth. Some younger students fell victim too. Three third-years and two fourth-years and four fifth-years, whose fellow classmates carried them outside, supporting those in tears.

There was a brief period of small talk when Aurors and others departed to spread the good news. It didn't seem as though they'd just won the fight. It seemed as though they'd only just begun it and it was already over. Nobody knew exactly how to feel.

Hermione, however, was furious. How could Deborah do that to her? How could she make her think that she had…it was horrible to do that to someone. It was just wrong. So while Dumbledore prepared to speak to everyone, she followed Deborah out of the hall and told her so. She screamed at her that she was very irresponsible, that it was wrong and definitely not funny, no matter how you looked at it. And all the while Deborah looked at her seriously, not whispering a word. Even when she finished, Deborah said nothing.

"Well?" Hermione prompted her huffily.

"Well what?"

"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?"

"At times like these my brother would have said, 'When in doubt, have a pickle."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Hermione yelled.

"You know, pickled cucumbers…gherkins…whatever you call them. My brother used to say, when in doubt, have a—"

"I don't care about pickles! I care about you!"

Deborah looked at her momentarily, and smiled a warm, happy smile. Not loony or maniacal, but a calm, motherly smile.

"What are you smiling about?" Hermione demanded.

"Hermione cares about me." And she gave her a big hug. And she didn't let go. At first Hermione tried to escape, but it was no use. The damn woman was strong. So she gave into it tired of being angry.

"I thought you were dead." Hermione said, nearly a sob.

"O Ye of little faith. Didn't I tell you it would all work out alright in the end?"

"I didn't believe you."

"Honestly," Deborah sighed, "No one ever learns. I'm always right."