Albus Dumbledore walked up and down the rows of makeshift sleeping bags, the sound of soft snoring coming from several directions. Flitwick had conjured up the sleeping bags when the wizards atop the east tower had begun to pass out from exhaustion. It had been a long night. The seemingly endless wave of beasts had continued to come against the towers and had been repelled time after time. But now the wizards who had been defending the towers, throwing spell after spell at the monsters needed their rest.

A teenager who had come from Stillwater Academy gave a loud snore and rolled over in his sleeping bag as Dumbeldore passed. The girl was perhaps fifteen, far too young to see and do the things which she had done that night. Dumbledore had once again been astonished by the strength of youth. The students from Stillwater and Hogwarts had performed and carried themselves in ways that many adult wizards couldn't. Dumbledore had seen a professor from Stillwater break down in tears when the first wave of monsters had come sweeping down the hill, while Colin Creevey who had been standing next to the teacher had merely gritted his teeth and readied himself for battle. Gryffindor bravery, Dumbledore thought to himself with more than a little pride for his former House.

After finishing his walkthrough, Dumbledore moved to stand beside McGonagall. She was looking out through the darkness, as if trying to see the enemy who had retreated once gain into the Dark Forest. She gave a small shudder and rubbed her hands on her arms. "Dark night, Albus."

Dumbledore gave small nod. The darkness of the night seemed almost solid. He felt as though he could reach out and caress the evil in the air. "It will soon be over, one way or another." He whispered.

McGonagall snorted. "I see no evidence of that, Albus. The attacks coming much slower, but I doubt we've made much of an impact on their numbers."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "No, I doubt we have. But the real battle is about to begin. As we speak, Harry is rushing headfirst towards Voldemort, seeking to finish it once and for all."

McGonagall's eyes widened and her head whipped back to the central tower where Harry had been for the entire battle. It was too far to see if Potter was there or not, but McGonagall had long ago learned to take Dumbledore's words as true. "Why are we sitting here? We need to help him. Voldemort will crush him!"

Dumbledore ran a hand through his beard. "This is how it has to be. Harry and his friends have changed to compensate for Voldemort's power. Perhaps their love for each other will be enough."

"Perhaps?!" McGonagall screamed. "Perhaps, Dumbeldore?! I admit Weasley has become a force to be reckoned with. Granger has become one of the most powerful witches I've ever seen." McGonagall stopped suddenly. "How is that, Albus? Granger has always been brilliant, but her innate magical strength has never been amazing. How is it that she seems to be able use magic that I'm not even sure I myself could?"

Dumbledore smiled again and this time it was a happy smile. "Love does strange things. It has to do with the bond that they share. Weasley has become a paragon of strength and physical power. The bond will not allow one of them to outstrip the other. It compensates. In response to Weasley's strength, the bond has bestowed Hermione with astounding magical abilities. Quite quaint, isn't it?"

"Still, Albus, we both know what happens when Joseph Dent confronted Voldemort that last time he was in power. Voldemort tossed the man around like a rag doll. As strong as Weasley is, we can't expect him to do any better."

Dumbledore nodded. "But it isn't Weasley that will be fighting Voldemort. That's Potter's job."

"I admit, Albus, that Harry has performed well beyond expectations, but this is Voldemort we are talking about."

"As I said, one way or another, this fight will soon be over. We've done all we can. It's up to Harry now."

((()))

Ginny tried her best to be quiet as she moved through the forest. She had never spent much time in the woods, and twigs and dry leaves snapped under her feet with each step. Not that being quiet was very important with all the noise going on around her. Voldemort's army which perhaps at one point had a semblance of discipline had fallen into chaos. Bellows of anger a pain rang out all around her as troll warred with each other. Evidently fear of attacking the castle had driven them to attacking on another. Ginny could hear human voices also, as the Death Eaters tried to keep the beasts under control.

Still, none of this mattered to her. Voldemort was her goal. He had slaughtered her brothers. He had to die. Fear or wariness hardly crossed mind. The fact that Voldemort had killed hundreds of witches and wizards far more capable than her didn't cross her mind either. Revenge was all she had now. In fact the only emotion she felt when she felt a wand jab into her back was regret that she wouldn't get her chance to kill Voldemort herself.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" said a voice from behind her, apparently the owner of the wand that was pressed into her back.

Ginny said nothing as she whipped around, bringing her own wand to shoulder level.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" the voice screamed before Ginny could even open her mouth. Her wand flew from her hand as she was thrown backwards into the dirt. She rolled as fast as she could. But all she received for her movement was a boot in the stomach. Her breath flew through her mouth in a grunt. Hands grabbed at her arms and legs and she thrashed and kicked to keep them at bay.

Laughter erupted around her as she was wrestled down, her arms and legs pinned to the ground. Lucius Malfoy's handsome, smirking face was inched from her own.

"Feisty!" he snarled.

Ginny only screamed thrashed in vain to get away.

"Relax, Weasley!" Malfoy said. "Believe me, young lady; you'd be dead by now if the Dark Lord didn't want to speak to you personally."

These words froze Ginny in place as if she had been punched. He knew, she thought to herself. Voldemort knew I was coming the whole time.

Malfoy must have seen the fear on her face because he laughed sinisterly. "Yes, my dear. The Dark Lord knows all. Let's go and have a chat with him."

Ginny swung a fist as the smirking face as he lifted her off the ground. His head snapped back as her punch connected, but he merely smiled and elbowed her in the face. Ginny heard a horrible crunch before her head exploded. Blood ran freely from her nose. It was quite broken.

Stars swam through Ginny vision as Malfoy threw over his shoulder.

"I admit," Malfoy began. "This would all be much easier if I was able to use magic against you, but the Dark Lord wants you intact when you come before him."

Ginny shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness that had settled around her brain.

Malfoy only walked a few minutes before he threw Ginny to the ground with a grunt. "I've brought her here, Master." Malfoy said, his eyes averted from the man in front of him.

"Good, Lucius." A reedy, scraping voice said from the shadows of a tree. Ginny squinted her eyes to see deeper into the shadows, and immediately regretted it. Voldemort's blood red eyes shone from the darkness.

Voldemort stepped out from the shadows, his long black cloak trailing behind him. There was no wand in his hand, but Ginny wouldn't have cared if he had been pointing one right at her. With a growl, she threw herself at him.

There was almost surprise on Voldemort's face when he saw what she was doing. Such abandon, such emotion was beneath the Dark Lord. With almost a lazy gesture of his hand, he stopped Ginny midair. She revolved slowly in the air as Voldemort stepped nearer. He was looking her over, considering her. After nearly a minute of just staring at her, he chuckled. "Oh, I see."

"What?" Ginny spat.

"I see what Potter sees in you. I've always liked my women pale, as well. And the red hair!" Voldemort ran a finger along Ginny's jaw, smiling. "Oh, yes I have always liked my women pale." His smile suddenly disappeared. It was quickly replaced by a scowl. "And perhaps that is why he likes his women pale. That boy stole much from me that night we first met. He has my strength, if untrained. He speaks Parseltoungue." His smile returned. "And perhaps my taste in women."

Ginny, tried to bite his hand, but the spell in which Voldemort held her was tight and movement was slow and ungainly.

Voldemort pulled his hand back lazily and then shook his finger at her with mock severity. "Come now, Miss Weasley. Let's try and be civil. At least until I'm done with what I've come for."

"Why don't you just kill me?" Ginny screamed. "Kill me the way you killed my brothers!"

Voldemort smiled. "Yes, your brothers. If I could I would bring them back and kill them again, I would. They killed almost half of my Death Eaters with that neat little trick of theirs."

Ginny felt a strange satisfaction in hearing that her brothers had caused Voldemort so much trouble. "You murdered them!"

Voldemort waved her comment away. "If it makes you feel any better, Ginny, your brothers were only doing what they were born to do."

Ginny stared back blankly, not understanding.

Voldemort saw her bewildered expression and laughed. "Oh, come now!" he screamed. "Surely you understand! I know that you're a smart little witch."

When Ginny simply stared back, Voldemort leaned in with a patient expression on his face. Ginny was sourly reminded of a Professor trying to teach a stubborn student an important lesson.

"Fate, Miss Weasley!" Voldemort ejaculated. "Surely you believe in that after all that has happened. This entire war is based on a single prophecy given by Albus Dumbledore. Young Master Potter and I are destined to face off in a duel to the death. Everything that happens leading up to that encounter is merely leading towards it."

Ginny began to understand, but she didn't feel like letting Voldemort know he had taught her anything. Voldemort took her silence for ignorance.

"Think about it!" he screamed. "Is it so hard to believe that your brothers were born to accomplish one thing in their pathetic, short lives? They were born to die!"

Ginny couldn't keep the horror from her features at Voldemort's words.

Voldemort smiled, genuinely pleased that Ginny's was grasping what he was saying. "Only the death of a loved one could have brought you from that tower. In response to your brothers death, you did the only thing that destiny has allowed you to do! You left the tower quietly, with thoughts of revenge flying through your mind. I knew you were coming because I have studied fate for decades. I know how it works, wielding people as if they were weapons."

Ginny could no longer hold her silence. "But why? Why is my coming off of the tower so important?"

Voldemort's smile became horrible. His red, slitted eyes nearly closed. "Who is the one person that Harry Potter would risk everything for? Who is the one person that Harry Potter would come out and risk life and limb to save?"

Realization dawned on Ginny like a punch. Breathing was difficult as the consequences of her actions ran through her mind. What have I done? she asked herself.

Voldemort continued. "As your brothers died to complete their destiny, so you are completing yours by luring Potter into my grasp. Your immature, irrational want for revenge will bring about the death of Harry Potter, the only person that ever had any chance of stopping me. After he dies, the rest of the world will fall like dominoes. This world will fall into my dark grip." Voldemort smiled, genuinely happy. And it's all your fault."

Ginny slumped and would have collapsed if Voldemort hadn't been holding her in the air through magic. She hung like a rag-doll. The only hope she had left was that Voldemort would kill her before Harry came.

Don't come, Harry. Stay in the Castle.

((()))

Harry eased the sword in its sheath, impatient to get moving. The Sword of Gryffindor shone brightly, its rubies reflecting even the dim light of the courtyard. The last time he had used the sword, he had nearly killed Voldemort in the sewers of New Orleans. If it came to that, he planned on finishing the job tonight.

The first one of his friends to reach the rally point was Quentin. He was wearing a heavy belt with large pouched that circled his waist. After a moment, Harry realized the pouches had belonged to the twins.

Quentin noticed Harry glance and said, "We need all the help we can get. I'm not sure how everything in these pouches work, but I'm sure we'll find out."

Harry nodded.

The next to arrive were Ron and Hermione. The looked impressive in their leather armor and Ron's huge sword. They were completely silent, though between the two of them, that meant very little. They could have been having a discussion with each other at that very moment.

Draco came last. Unlike the rest of them, Draco had put on his black school robe over his Muggle clothing. He had tied his shoulder length hair back into a tail. He looked freshly washed and clothed. Harry understood immediately. Draco wanted to look his best when he met his father for the last time.

With everyone there, Harry set off in a slow jog. Harry new they could easily keep that pace until they got to wherever it was they were going. Ron and Hermione could probably outrun Harry these days and Draco and Quentin were both athletic young men.

"How do we know where to go?" Hermione called up as they entered the first layer of the Dark Forest.

"We'll go to where we saw the explosion." Harry answered. "If he's not there, we'll just have to keep looking."

They heard sounds of the monster army all around them. Quiet was of the utmost importance. Harry flinched every time a twig or a dry leaf crunched under his feet or the feet of his friends.

They had been running for almost twenty minutes when Harry called everyone to a halt. His friends surrounded him, throwing uneasy glances into the forest. They looked at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation for the stop.

"This is too easy." Harry whispered.

Hermione nodded her face pale. "I know. It's like Voldemort has opened a hole for us to come through. I bet this forest is swarming with troll and giants. We can hear them, but we can't see them."

Draco shook his head slowly. "If Voldemort knows were coming…"

"We're in big trouble." Harry said with a sigh. "Well, there's nothing for it. It's not like we can stop. He has Ginny."

They all nodded.

"Good. Let's go."

They set off at the slow jog again, the scent of burnt wood assailing their noses. They were close, Harry could feel it.

((()))

Voldemort stared into the dark forest. His eyes seemed to penetrate the darkness. Ginny had no doubt that he could see more than a normal wizard.

"They're close." Voldemort said, smiling. "I can feel it."

Ginny wished for the thousandth time that she hadn't been so stupid as to think she could kill Voldemort herself. Harry was going to die and the world would fall into darkness because of the immature acts of a teenager.

"ADVENTIA ILLUSIO!" Voldemort muttered.

Ten feet in front of him, an image of Ginny's dead body appeared on the ground. She was so bloody she was hardly recognizable.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked, still floating in the air on the currents of Voldemort's magic.

Voldemort didn't take his eye of the illusion as he answered. "Contingency, my dear. One must always have a plan to fall back on. I know that young Harry has become quite a wizard since our first meeting. If by some freak chance I can't defeat him fairly, I'll show him your dead body. Whether he becomes furious or is struck by his own grief, it will be more than enough time for me to finish him."

Ginny had lost all hope. The last thin she wanted to see was Harry dying. She would rather be dead. "Why don't you just kill me? Why use an illusion when you have my real body right here?"

Voldemort still hadn't torn his eyes from the bloody mess that was the illusion of Ginny's body. Ginny realized that Voldemort was enjoying looking at the illusion. He was enjoying the blood. "All in good time, my dear." Voldemort finally looked at her, his red eyes blazing. "Fear not, you will die for being nothing more than a Muggle lover. But as I said before: Contingency."

Voldemort turned and looked into the forest. "You can have her, now." He said to the darkness. "But she isn't to die, yet. Once I've killed Potter you can give her the Kiss."

As Voldemort had spoken, the darkness in the forest seemed to…shift. The darkness flowed forward and when Ginny realized what they were she couldn't hold back a scream. The Dementors floated forward, leaving only shadow in their wake.

((()))

Harry strode forward purposefully, on hand on his sword the other holding his wand. If he was to die today, he would die like a man.

Harry and company broke into a burnt clearing. All of the trees had been incinerated in the twin's blast. A few of the larger stumps were still smoldering.

Harry felt only a twinge of surprise to see Voldemort standing there, waiting. He wasn't alone. Malfoy and the rest of the remaining Death Eaters stood in a group behind their Dark Lord. Harry did a quick head count and saw that there were over twenty of them. Things weren't looking too good.

"Harry!" Voldemort called, his arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture. "Won't you join us?"

Harry walked forward on unsteady legs and was comforted to hear the footfalls of his friends behind him. Harry stopped a good twenty yards away from Voldemort.

"Where's Ginny?" he asked, his hand so tight on the sword that his knuckles were white.

Voldemort's face looked slightly disappointed. "Come now, Harry. This is our greatest moment together and you're ruining it with talk of a Muggle lover. She hardly matters. Or should I say 'She hardly mattered.'? She died in the most pleasant way."

Harry ripped the sword from its sheath with a scream of rage. Voldemort's eyes widened and his hand went to his side, almost as if remembering the sword's sting.

"It's over, Voldemort." Harry whispered. "You die today."

Voldemort though a glance over his shoulder at his Death Eaters. "Kill them. Be wary of the freckled one. He is most dangerous. Potter is not to be touched. He's mine. I'll kill them man who so much as singes a hair on his head."

The Death Eaters pulled their wands, but seeing Harry so close to his friends, they knew they couldn't cast any spells without hitting him. Seeing this, they all charged.

Harry charged them, as well. He heard his friends running behind him, staying with him. They all were screaming.

Harry met the first Death Eater head on. The woman saw him coming and tried to shy away from him, remembering Voldemort's last order. Harry swung his sword and took the woman's leg at the knee. She fell with a scream of agony and Harry turned help his friends.

If they weren't going to fight him for fear of Voldemort, Harry was going to take full advantage of it. He swung his sword with abandon, imagining Ginny's smiling face as he cut her killers down. The Death Eaters stayed away from him as best they could, but every one of his slashes connected with flesh and bone.

Suddenly, huge, black tendrils wrapped around his arms and ripped him away from the battle. He flew through the air, end over end, until he fell to the ground with a grunt. Try as he might to hold onto the sword, it flew from his grasp when he hit the ground.

The black tendrils had disappeared while Harry was in the air, and Harry rolled immediately. A black bar of shadow erupted from Voldemort's wand and struck the ground Harry had been moments before. There was a slight hiss and the shadow consumed the ground, giving off a horrible stench. Harry was sure if he had been hit by that spell he would have been dead in moments.

Harry whipped his wand out of his pocket and squared up to the Dark Lord. Voldemort hadn't wasted time. As Harry had been rolling, Voldemort had begun his next spell. Harry was hit by a multicolored wave. A numb fog settled over his brain. His eyes saw only black and rubbing them did nothing to clear them.

Harry knew that blind as he was, he had little or no chance at dodging Voldemort's next spell.

((()))

As Harry reeled in shadow, the battle continued around him. When Harry had been torn from the battle by Voldemort, Ron had become enraged. Harry was his best friend and seeing him about to die had sent Ron over the edge.

He didn't even bother with the sword, ripping it from his back and tossing it to the ground; the bulky thing impeded his movement. With a burst of supernatural speed, Ron met his first Death Eater. Now that Harry had been pulled from battle, the evil wizards had no qualms against using magic. The wizard in front of Ron had just begun to pull his wand from within his robes when Ron hit him. Ron had grown so strong since becoming a Sentinel that he could crack stone with his fist. He wasn't surprised to find that it worked just as well on flesh and bone.

He was aware of Hermione at all times. Their bond always told him where she was. Through the bond, he felt her heart beat. He felt tiny threads of hatred and fear from her. These felling were not directed at him, but rather at the Death Eaters she was fighting. He felt her enormous will build up as she prepared to unleash a spell.

He couldn't hear the spell she muttered, but there was a large flash of light and a grunt of pain came from behind him. These Death Eaters were good at what they did. They had spent the majority of their lives devoted to learning powerful spells to cause pain and death. Hermione was only a sixth-year student, but the one Death Eater after another fell beneath her wand. Ron couldn't help but smile as he downed another Death Eater (a large man that had a scar that ran from his temple to his upper lip). Ron had become strong in body, but Hermione's magic had become just as strong. And as strong as he was, he had little doubt that Hermione was even more dangerous than him.

With the blood pounding through his head, Ron didn't hear the spell that connected with his back. His Sentinel magic protected him enough to stop the fireball from tearing through his body, but he was still knocked to the ground, his leather armor smoldering. Powers that be, it hurt.

As quick as he was, Ron wasn't fast enough to dodge the second spell. All of his muscles suddenly went rigid and pain tore through his body. He gritted his teeth and it was all he could do to lift his head to see Lucius Malfoy with his wand pointed at Ron's head, smiling wickedly.

((()))

Draco and Quentin had stayed well behind, Harry, Ron and Hermione, knowing that their contributions to the fight were not in brute strength or overwhelming magic. But when Draco saw his father pinning Ron down with a spell, he wasn't surprised to find his feet running forward to help him. Weasley wasn't Draco's friend and much more time would be needed to mend the gap which had grown between them over the years, but Draco would have gladly given his own life to save the freckle-faced boy. He owed Ron that much. He owed them ALL that much.

With simple acts of kindness, Harry Potter and his friends had pulled Draco out of the shadow of his own soul. Draco had known that he was withering inside for years, but he had needed the acceptance of his new friends to truly sever his connections with Voldemort and his father.

So it was with a happy, easy heart that he tackled his father to the ground. They both rolled on the ground, vying for solid holds on each other's arms. His father's grip wavered and his eyes widened when he recognized his son. It was more than enough time for Draco to snap his fist forward. There was a dry meat packing sound when his fist connected with his father's cheek.

Lucius grunted and with strength brought upon by rage and disbelief he threw his son away from him. Draco rolled and came to his feet, his wand in his hand, ready to dodge what ever his father sent his way.

Lucius was a little slower getting to his feet. He wiped his mouth and spit blood. He turned his icy blue eyes to his son. It was in that moment that Draco realized he no longer had a father. There was only hatred in his father's gaze. In that one look Lucius disowned his son.

Draco couldn't have cared less. He had hated his father for years. His expression was blank when he raised his wand above his head, ready to duel.

Lucius smiled viciously. "Now you die, boy."

Draco didn't even respond. He knew he had little chance against this man in battle. Lucius Malfoy had always been the worst of the Death Easters. Still, he readied himself to fight.

Draco may not have earned his position on the Quidditch team during his second year, but the years of playing the sport had honed his reflexes to sharp daggers. When a black bar of power shot out from the tip of Lucius' wand, he dodged it easily. Spinning like a top, Draco turned and yelled, "GLOOMION SETELIUS!".

The spell was invisible. Lucius' eyes widened and his hands shot up to them, rubbing vigorously. "I'm blind!" he screamed. "You little bastard. How dare you use that spell on me? I taught you everything you know!"

Draco thought about everything he had learned from Harry in the last few months. Very little of it had anything to do with magic. Harry had taught him the power of forgiveness. Draco knew it was the most important thing he had learned since coming to Hogwarts. "No, Lucius." He whispered. "Not everything."

Lucius was muttering every counter curse that he knew. The counter curse that should have made the blindness only sent a wave of pain through his head. "What have you done to me?" he demanded.

Draco almost smiled. "You know, Lucius? You have never lacked in ambition or hatred, but you were never a very smart man. You should know that spells cast by different people have different effects. Your counter curse would have worked if the spell had been cast by a evil wizard." Finally, Draco did smile. "I guess that means I'm one of the good guys. You just assumed I was evil because you raised me. The counter curse is different when cast by one with a noble heart. But you wouldn't know anything about that."

Draco looked down at his wand and whispered, "Shamshere Appeario."

A foot long blade grew slowly from the tip of his wand. When it had reached its full length he stalked towards his father.

Lucius must have heard the whisper, because he began backing away, fear plain on his handsome face. "Draco, don't do this! I'm your father."

"No." Draco said. "You never were." He lunged forward and buried his blade into Lucius' throat.

Lucius' scream was cut short as blood rushed into his mouth. His wand fell to the charred ground and his hands flew to his throat, trying to stem the flow of blood which would be his death.

Draco merely stared. "I would have stabbed you in the heart if I thought you had one, Lucius."

Draco turned his back and walked slowly away from the man who had raised him. Lucius was trying to yell, but by now all strength had left him. He collapsed to the ground and the last thought that ran through his mind before death took him was one of disbelief and anger.

I had planned on finishing it with this chapter. I know you're all asking how I could stop in the middle of the fight. I feel like an ass doing it, believe me. I just ran out of time.