Great Things

A/N: Much credit for this chapter is due to my co-conspirators (who write far better Ron and Hermione than I do) Stacey and Steph. Without them, this probably would be a fairly crappy fic. So… this one's for you, guys!

"Go. Do the great things we're all expecting of you."

Harry jumped to his feet as soon as the lights went off in the hall, his wand out from his pocket in one fluid motion.

He should have known, he thought to himself angrily.

He knew this was coming. He should have known this would be the when and the where.

It was so bloody obvious, that anyone with half a brain would have made the connection, he chided himself.

But no one had made the connection. Not the Order, not McGonagall, not even Hermione.

Dumbledore would have.

But the would-haves and should-haves didn't matter much now, did they?

He glanced over at his classmates to see if they were all right, but they'd all gotten to their feet, wands out. A moment of pride surged through him as he watched Neville throw a successful hex at a cloaked Death Eater whose back was turned. He was pulled out of the musing as a hex whizzed by him, narrowly grazing his ear. He turned towards the offending Death Eater, easily taking him out with a leg locker curse as he fought his way to Ron and Hermione.   

"Harry!" Ginny's voice called, as she appeared by his side. He looked down at her, at once glad to see her and frustrated that she'd willingly thrown herself into the center of it all.

But it didn't really matter now.

"C'mon, we need to get to your brother," he said under his breath, beginning to throw hexes at the hooded figures that had invaded the dining area as he fought his way to Ron.

"You all right?" he asked under his breath, finally reaching his best friend's side, and determinedly staying there, continuing to dodge hexes and throw out some of his own, so caught up in sticking with Ron that he didn't notice the girls getting pushed and jostled in the opposite direction, several of the participants in the fray coming between the two pairs as they fought the invaders with every last bit of determination.

He and Ron pushed forward, easily falling into synch as they hexed everyone in their path. Harry felt a small sense of satisfaction watching a few of the faceless Death Eaters fall to his wand, but it was brief as his mind turned yet again to the task that was looming ever nearer.

He glanced around the room. If Voldemort even showed his face. So far, there had been no hint of the attackers' leader.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron's voice jarred him out of his scan of the room. He looked at his best friend, eyes widening as he realized that neither Hermione nor Ginny were anywhere in sight.

"I don't know, we need to-"he began but was cut off as a sharp pain ripped through his forehead. He lost the ability to concentrate on anything else as he looked up, gripping his wand so tightly it felt as thought it might give way and splinter under his grip. He didn't see the Dark Lord right off the bat. Nor did anyone else, really.

But he was here.

A moment later, a hush fell over the crowd, followed by several gasps and shrieks.

This was it. Harry set his shoulders, still clinging to his wand, eyes searching for the yet-to-be-seen foe.

Suddenly Harry felt someone brush by his side. He looked, noticing that Ron had stepped protectively in front of him.

"Ron, get out of here!" he shouted desperately, wanting to warn his friend before…

His scar exploded, white lights popping in front of his eyes as he heard a faint "Out of my way, foolish blood traitor," hissed.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Ron yelling. "You're not going to keep this one to yourself, Harry." And then more shouts as Ron fired off a Conjuctivitis curse.

'Imbecile!" Voldemort roared as Harry finally forced aside the pain, raising his wand yet again, moving to push Ron out of the way.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Time seemed to freeze as the words reached his ears, the entire great hall falling into a hush, everything slowing down so much that he may have been watching it in reverse, watching the green light return to Voldemort's wand.

And then time began to speed up again, all of the shouts of the battle assaulting his ears as Ron fell to his knees in front of him.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, his screams lost in the chaos as he watched his best friend fall forward.

But before he could make a move to help his fallen friend, a cackle sounded in his ear and he felt something cold and metallic pressing into his arm, as a cold, high voice hissed "It's time."

And then, without warning, there was that all-too-familiar tug at his navel and the Great Hall and all of the chaos rushed past him, fading away as he found himself plunged into complete darkness. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as his surroundings slowly faded into view.

"No. Not here. Not again," he murmured as he took a step backwards, nearly falling over a gravestone behind him, catching himself just in time.