Ron could not believe what was happening. It was not as if he had any lack of trust in Lovegood, not as if he had ever known her to lie about anything, but what he was hearing contradicted his expectations so severely that he had to ask her at least twice. In the last few hours he had trusted his minions to spread their influence across Europe to further distract some of the organs of the coalition while he returned to look for Hermione, but he was not the first to find her.

"Oh, thank God you're here," she had said as soon as she saw him. "Luna was just telling me she needs both of us- Neville needs both of us."

Why had he come back? Was she more important to him than Goyle and Bulstrode? Well, that much went without saying, he supposed, but had he worried that when he came back to her, she would be gone like Hannah? There were so many he had already lost...

"Oh, hello, Ronald. Whatever happened to your hair? Are your eyes different as well?"

"Wouldn't worry about it," he said. "What does Longbottom want?"

"He's gone to find Lord Voldemort," she said quietly with a seriousness that sounded strange on her lips. "I'm afraid he succeeded. He sent me to find you because there is no one in the world he trusts more." She took both of their hands and showed them what had happened in their minds.

"Evan has the diadem?" Hermione asked. "He never told us-"

"Prob'ly hid it at one of his old bases," Ron muttered. "Wouldn't have trusted any of his followers to know where it is. Maybe his friends went and got it for him; I don't know. Doesn't matter."

They apparated without another word. He could not have explained the theory on the subject, but after countless iterations through time and space, he was convinced that multiple people moving at once was stabler, somehow, and that side-along apparation was probably the least stable, at least for the person who was incapable of the skill. It was, therefore, not surprising that going along with his two friends who were both rather skilled was particularly stable, even comfortable. He thought about writing that down, but he supposed he could not really explain how it worked theoretically, even if he was certain of it.

He looked around at the unusual landscape, not seeing anyone else around, but Lovegood was quick to lead them; probably using Legilimency to find where they had gone. Looking over, it seemed Hermione had no more of an idea of what to make of the situation than he did, but he saw some of the same old resolve in her expression. Whatever her fate, whatever she was leaving behind, what was clear to her was the present moment, and at the very least she would steel herself for that. They came in sight of a strange company; Evan and Voldemort himself were dominating the scene, while the gaggle of seconds and thirds could only look on.

"Oh? Who might this be?" He squinted. "If I am not mistaken, your names are Weasley and Granger. I stunned you once when I was relatively sure that I would take over Hogwarts and the lives of its students would soon be made immaterial. Various Death Eaters gave an account of the students currently at the school when I returned for what would have been your fourth year and I was none too surprised when yours came up as persons of interest. It was suggested that I could not use your commitment to your ideals against you." He laughed, entirely to himself. "You realize, of course, that there had never been anyone that I could not manipulate apart from the old Albus Dumbledore, and maybe some of his barking dogs."

"My name is Lovegood."

"That's plenty, Luna," Hermione said. Reasonable as always, she seemed to think that their friend needed to realize the enemy was taking the situation seriously; he was just so amused by it all at the moment that it was easy to think he was being deliberately personable. "So, this is how it ends, then?"

"Why, yes, though I think there are rather too many of us at the moment. The extras can duel; I have no intention of getting involved."

It was a bizarre scenario, but quietly he supposed it made sense with the fact that their enemy was so afraid of death. More wands in the arena meant more variables, and it was better that his fated duel against Neville or Evan or both took place with as few of them as possible. The Death Eaters, whoever they were, seemed to be relieved to be able to get involved without getting killed. One seemed to sneer by the change in his voice.

"I always wanted Lucius's boy dead. If you ask me, he's been around too long already."

"No one did ask you," Lovegood said.

All their wands were already drawn. Ron reminded himself of a time that it occurred to him all the students at Hogwarts were already on panic mode, all the time. He expected no greater challenge than he had faced with Shacklebolt, given that there were only three of them, and theoretically Malfoy would be on their side.

They attacked without warning. One hit Hermione with a dark transfiguration, but all three were gripping their skulls in short order. His own Imperius Curse was successful, as it always was at that point, and turning the other two into his minions was even less challenging. It was perhaps strange that the three experts in Legilimency had gone for a mental attack all at the same time, but perhaps in all the teams for which they had ever fought, that had always been their role. He knew he was not going to learn it, and neither were most of the Slytherin's old mates, so he supposed that explained it. His first friend managed to turn herself back from a bat, which had not hindered her mental invasion, apparently.

The three minions stared back at their former master for mere moments before he mentally invaded one of them, killing him. Ron was not certain what had happened, but it was entirely possible that the dark wizard was not worth winning back over. The ability to resist the Imperius isn't explained by a capacity for the mind arts. Reckon it's a different thing; mental magic versus willpower.

"I see," Voldemort said, Evan still struggling under his control. "Your friends were able to overcome my servants due to a vulnerability that I left in their minds, the better to control them myself. At this point, though, I wonder if that was your entire point in summoning them here was to shield you against any reinforcements I might have."

"We'll do it," Luna said. "No matter what you throw at us, we have no intention of allowing Neville to fight alone."

"While your foolish sentimentality is enough to explain your willingness, I was expressing my question to the chosen one, as it were."

"He chose us," Hermione said. "We chose to follow him."

"Sometimes, you choose yourself," Ron said. "Longbottom has at least one power that you don't realize, and it's free will. He's not so afraid of death that he's boxed in to a specific course of action; he's-"

"That is quite enough." All at once he felt a bone snap on the inside; it might have been one of the bones in his leg, but there was pain all over. "Isn't it lovely? It's a West African bludgeoning curse. They used it to keep the slaves in line."

"I'm glad you didn't waste your time here," he muttered back. "No more delays!"

"Oh, you wish to hurry along your own death?" Voldemort asked. "I suppose that is the logical conclusion to not being afraid of it. In this moment, however, I find I have no particular fear of it, not when my mortal enemies are placed in front of me. Can you tell me what happens if I defeat them both and the prophecy is effectively defied?"

"You have always believed in prophecy," Luna said.

It's more like he's staling, but why? What's he got up his sleeves?

Just in terms of numbers, they had an advantage, but there had never been a more powerful enemy, not in the entire world, and he had been most everywhere. He had no idea how the nat-kadaws of Burma were communicating with the spirits, but that was probably all they were doing; there was no way to control something like that. In that sense, he supposed that Voldemort was the most powerful entity that had ever made an enemy of him, though it was difficult to say whether or not he was in control of himself. It doesn't matter, though. There's nothing we can do about that.

He needed Longbottom to attack, but if his ally had some reason for not moving, then- then what? Were they going to get through by a direct assault? It certainly seemed like the only thing left to them. How could he, however, best contribute to the effort?

"Imperio!" he incanted, struggling against the indomitable will of the enemy. He was vaguely aware of the others moving around hi, but all he heard in his mind was the taunting voice that applauded him for his courage while reminding him that his mental strength was not enough. Was he distracting the enemy? Was the distraction enough to make a difference? Was there anything else he could do?

At long last, though it was probably not that long of a time, he found himself thrown off. Hermione and Luna were in a heap, presumably having done something like attempt a mental invasion at the same time. Coordinated assault failed-

"-as I was saying, what reason is there for me not to dispose of Evan?" Voldemort asked.

"Well, why get rid of a piece of your own soul?"

"I no longer need him. My greatest enemies no longer live, and the magical world is no longer and environment where a mind may learn the nature of magic. It is unlikely that anyone will ever become dangerous to me." He seemed to think for a moment. "I am aware of potions and other ritual where a soul fragment becomes necessary, but I hardly intend to kill everyone on the planet; the world should still be full of souls I can use for various purposes."

"Okay, that was what I figured, but it helps to have you here to explain it."

Why was he just talking? What did it matter what the dark wizard ultimately wanted, when this was their only chance to kill him? Had Longbottom not called them there to fight? What was the plan, just standing around talking until the enemy got bored and killed them all?

Ron glanced over at Malfoy, who did not seem to have tried anything. His whole look was dispassionate, though something had happened in all the time he had been missing, clearly. It appeared that all the color had been drained out of him.

"Hermione," he whispered. "There's something different about-"

"There's no point in being quiet," Lovegood said. "I can hear you."

"I can tell," she whispered back without acknowledging that they were not talking about the other Ravenclaw with them. He tried to take it as a good sign that she was at least aware of his observation, but it seemed she had no idea what to do with the information. It felt like they were all in first year again. The enemy was right in front of them, but relative to him, they were no stronger. As much as they might have wished for the chance to try, they were, in his understanding, perfectly unable to kill him. Of course, it still escaped him why the promised child of prophecy was taking the chance to ask about horcruces and soul magic.

What was meant to happen, though? Had he gone in with any expectations, or had he allowed Longbottom to think of everything by answering his summons without asking him any questions first? What was the prophecy going to do anyway? Would it do him any good to try to take advantage of the prophecy without finding out the meaning of it first?

"Perhaps you could tell me why you would summon your friends if they cannot help you at all," Voldemort said after a moment. "Have you any idea that they are all going to die here?" He shook his head. "For a moment, because of the foolishness that Evan demonstrated, I allowed myself to hope that you would be a worthy enemy, but it seems you do not possess a better idea, even by the slightest measure. In truth, I suppose I only just said that I have eliminated all threats to my life except the theoretical threat presented by the prophecy, not that there was any way for me to address that. Perhaps there was only so much you could do. Can I presume that you do not intend to simply join me?"

"I don't think I want to do that," he responded. "Honestly, I hadn't even thought of it. It never occurred to me that I could get out of this by joining you and I'm almost disappointed, because I could swear someone would have thought of some trick with the prophecy." He looked over at Evan. "You weren't really going to kill him either, were you?"

"No, no, as long as he knew his place, I intended to allow him to live as long as you did, but his desire to kill me was rather transparent from the start. Perhaps he did not realize as much as a third year, but his envy of my power and repute was well-known by the older students. I suppose that much is consequent of his trust in his friends not to repeat anything he ever said to them." His shrug could not have been clearer; it was like he thought they were all blind. "My enemies are all children, it seems. I suspect there are plenty of adults who hated me, but if they took me seriously, for the greater part I took them seriously, and I eliminated them. Albus Dumbledore was one of my highest priorities, and his death was not trivial to arrange, nor was it without cost to my resources, but I knew how I would do it since before I collected the Stone. I created a deathtrap for him in Azkaban and acted quickly and carefully enough that he would have to go alone, without the time to call on reinforcements or the opportunity to predict it, and the utter fools in the Ministry went along with my plan. Dolores Umbridge was rather easy to manipulate; it was a shame you and your friends found a way to be rid of her."

Ron did not want to spare so much as a thought for the long-dead Defense teacher. She was hardly any different than some Death Eater who had been killed and kicked out of the way at some point, even if the Ministry had apparently created an Inferius with her corpse, unless they were just pretending and using a body double. There really was no difference. Her soul, if she ever had one, was already gone to meet its eternal reward, off on the next great adventure, to put it as mildly as Dumbledore would have.

"You can spare us- the explanation," he managed. "We've known since before that year that everything the governments were doing was helping you, and it didn't take long to figure out that it wasn't a coincidence. We knew as far back as... whenever they started doing anything, as far back as after you stole the Stone, that they weren't trying to stop you, because if they were, they'd have been following the gold. They simply didn't want to find you. They needed you to give them every excuse they could get to get stronger, and when you killed Crouch and replaced him with someone else, you were just finalizing your plans to get them off your back."

"That's correct, Weasley, and it is as you say; I expect everyone who has been paying attention has realized as much. All the same, I find I rather enjoy gloating over the foolishness of my supposed enemies. Did none of them realize that the Order of the Phoenix was necessary to be rid of me the first time? That the Aurors, with all their resources, were not able to defeat my Death Eaters?" He looked around. "That was not a rhetorical question," he said, hitting Luna with some unidentifiable curse.

"I don't know if no one realized," Neville said. From his tone it was clear he was not pleased about how Voldemort was getting an answer out of him, but if he was stalling for something, it had not arrived yet. "I just know that no one who realized was in charge of anything."

"The public was not aware that Evan survived," Hermione said, glaring with the same intent. "If they had known what happened, they might have credited him with your defeat. Because Snape kidnapped him and hid him from the rest of the world for a decade, no one could identify any motive in the warding that must have killed you, and so they decided it was no act of James and Lily Potter that defeated you, but rather some horrible mistake you made. They never gave the Order any credit for the actions of its members."

The survivor of that fateful night was looking at her with some unidentifiable expression. It was like he thought she was blaming him, or if she would, he would have something to say about it. She did not.

"I suppose the public was also unaware that I survived, not that any among them would have known of a horcrux; even I had no idea that one could make them by accident. I can only imagine their shock to find I had cheated death. Many of my followers were rather disappointed, though I expect you know that by this point. There was no one that I ever personally killed so frequently as my own servants, and for the most part, the world believed I had it out for those of no magical background, as if I ever cared to find out if they existed, more than as a figment of some overactive imagination."

"That's what happened, basically," Neville said after a moment. "Everyone was frightened. I don't think the Ministry really wanted you back; they'd have done just fine with a boogeyman, but maybe they wouldn't have made it past Dumbledore."

"Oh, to be sure," Voldemort agreed. "It was the same with my Death Eaters, and yet now, what does it matter? I confess, it was rather interesting that you wanted to exchange words before our confrontation, and you were most of what I had hoped you would be, I suppose, in that at least you do not seem to believe that the use of dark magic, of all things, is how you can expect to win against a master of all magical arts."

"That's going a little far, isn't it, though?" he asked.

"However do you mean, Longbottom?"

"Well, I have a few of my friends here with me. Three of them happen to be expert Legilimens."

"Oh?" He shook his head. "Perhaps you were paying less attention than I had thought. Two already tried to invade my mind, what difference will a third make? If I understand correctly, he avoided study of the mind arts for years because he had no desire to be the same as his father, and turned to Astronomy."

Ron scowled. He really should have figured that Malfoy's old boss would have read his mind a few times, but it was still annoying, the way he thought he could just dump all those personal details out as if he really knew- even if they were Slytherins, and that much was expected. An idea formed.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," he said. "The real child of prophecy, Longbottom, chose to bring us to the fight. That's how he means to kill you."

"What an interpretation!" Voldemort said in mock surprise. "I am challenged by three moderately educated Legilimens- I, the scourge of secrets and locutor of lies, am expected in the field of battle, one of wits." He clapped. "Well, let us waste no more time. The three of you will have enough trouble for the rest of your miserable lives without any pointless delay."

As Hermione, Luna, and Malfoy all fell to the ground, hands on head, the strange thought that occurred to him was that it was almost like being in school again.