Neither can Live While the Other Survives …

Chapter two: What Army?

Summary: Either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives … the Prophecy is about to be fulfilled …who will die at the other's hand? Can Harry say everything he wants to say before it's too late?  Harry must vanquish the Dark Lord, or the Dark Lord will vanquish him …

Disclaimer: I own this plot as no one but JK herself knows how it will end.

AN: Hi again, thanks for the feedback. Really encouraging. Special thanks to Templa Otmena, Phoenix Padfoot and Patricia.

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          "So what happens now?" came the voice of Luna Lovegod behind Harry. As they turned to look at her, Ginny shrunk as low as she could, just keeping her head from their eye point.

          "You know the plan, Luna," said Ron.

          "Yes," Luna repeated. "I know the plan, but I should like to know it again."       

          Harry sighed and looked to Hermione for assistance. Hermione obliged, speaking in the kindest voice she could muster. "We wait out of sight until the doors are breached and when they are we go out and meet them. We wait a few seconds so Voldemort thinks that we're it, and then the others will come out."

          Luna surveyed Hermione with protuberantly wide eyes. Neville turned and tapped Hermione gently on the arm so that she looked around at him. "The doors have been breached," he said shakily as though he really didn't want this to come to anyone's attention and maybe it would go away if not spoken about.

          Hermione looked back. "I know. Harry," she said turning to him. "Shouldn't we –"

          "Yes," Harry cut her off. He turned around at the people watching him eagerly but with fear hidden beneath their eyes. "Listen, now's the time. We've got to go now and meet them. If anyone of you is unsure about doing this, then there's a back way out of this room that'll lead you into Hogsmead. There won't be any sentries out there yet, so if you want to go, no one will blame you."

          Not a soul moved. They all stared back at him.

          Harry felt an enormous pride flare up inside of him at these people who were willing to fight to the death to ensure that Voldemort would not take over. "Thank you," he said slowly with some suppressed emotion. "Tomorrow I'm going to have a long hot bath, eat a square meal, play chess with Ron, maybe talk to Ginny about something and teach Hermione to play Quidditch." A few people laughed nervously and if anyone could have seen Ginny's head, they would have seen that she was blushing furiously. "Imagine what you'll be doing tomorrow, and it will be so."

          Harry saw, with some satisfaction, some people closing their eyes, imagining. It gave him a sense of hope that they were listening to him and taking his advice, but it also made it all harder. He could not lead scared and nervous people in the face of danger; he did not have those kind of skills. It had always been ironically easier when he was on his own facing Voldemort; that time with the Philosopher's Stone he had been alone, no friends to protect, and he had survived. In the maze, once Cedric had died, he was alone, and he had survived. Now everyone was here … he may not survive … they might not survive …

          "Everyone ready?" he said finally.

          There was a chorus of yes.

          "Right then. Let's go."

          They filed out one by one, and Harry finally spotted Ginny. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her aside. "What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you in the safe house with everyone else in the tower?" he asked furiously.

          Ginny glared back at him defiantly. "I can fight!" she said.

          Harry looked around for Ron, who had already gone through the door. "If he knew you were here …"

          "Yes, I'm sure he'd shout and stamp his feet until he went very red. But he can't do anything about it."

          "You're not of age!" Harry protested. "We could do something about it!"

          "Neither is Luna! But she's allowed!"

          "That's because her father said she was. Yours on the other hand, didn't!" Harry interjected.

          Ginny went red with anger. "It's just because I'm a girl! If I was a boy, then it'd be different, wouldn't it?"

          "No," Harry answered. "They don't want you to get hurt. And nor do I."

          Ginny looked down, knowing that he was right, happy that he cared about her, but it didn't diminish her fiery anger at wanting to fight.

          "Ginny, this is my fight. This is what my life has to contain. I don't want to lose more people than I have to in the process."

          Ginny narrowed her eyes. "This is everybody's fight, Harry. You're just the main character. We – want – to – help. Why can't you let us?"

          Harry looked down at her, sighing, relenting slightly. "All right, then. But please … don't do anything stupid."

          Ginny smiled. "Same to you."

          And she disappeared out of the door, Harry standing alone feeling very unsure that he had done the right thing. 

(*)(*)(*)

          Lucius Malfoy shifted slightly at Voldemort's side. "Something is wrong, my Lord," he said uncertainly. "It would be Dumbledore's porogative to meet us head on."

          Voldemort sneered, looking around the empty Entrance Hall. "No, Lucius, do not be naïve. Most probably Dumbledore has some plan. A plan to draw us in."

          He turned around to the Death Eaters around him. "Leave none alive! Use any means with your wands to cause mayhem and destruction. If possible, leave Dumbledore to me but if it cannot be avoided, you have permission to … silence him. Harry Potter, however, is mine."

          He then turned to the Dementors. "You may use your natural ways of destroying your enemies." He was referring, of course, to the Dementor's Kiss.

          Movement at the top of the stairs made every single head turn in that direction. A group of children, teenagers, were striding towards them. They stopped at the top of the stairs, Voldemort recognising that the person in front was Harry.

          "Ah, here we are, Lucius, I told you there would be some pathetic stand against our massacre."

          Lucius smiled cruelly and drew out his wand. Harry balled his fists and clutched his wand, breathing heavily. He heard many intakes of breath behind him as some sighted the real Voldemort for the first time. They were trained, though, Harry had taught them that much.

          "Potter," Voldemort acknowledged Harry almost a sardonic familiarly. "We meet again for what I hope to be the last time."

          Harry glared back, ignoring the stabbing pains he was experiencing because of Voldemort's excitement. "It will be," he said. "Either way."

          Voldemort chuckled softly, the Death Eater's following suit. "So, Potter, you have put together a courageous little group. How … sufficient of you."

          Harry ignored the taunting tone to the voice, hoping that Dumbledore would show soon. "Yes, I'm very sufficient."

          Voldemort's sneer became even more pronounced. "It is doubtless, whether or not, that perhaps you have not noticed that they are all children like yourself?"

          It was Harry's turn to sneer. "You'd be surprised."

          "I don't imagine I shall, Potter. You do not surprise me in the slightest." He turned to his other Death Eaters, as though they shared a private joke. "He is still jesting, this insufferable boy, which baffles me somewhat when it is apparent that he shall be dead in a few minute's time."

          Harry narrowed his eyes. "Either I will, or you will. So I'm told."

          There was a silence that followed this. The Death Eaters stirred. Come on, Dumbledore, Harry thought.

"The Prophecy?" said Voldemort attempting to suppress his eagerness.

          Harry nodded. "Yeah, I don't suppose you've heard it yet, have you? They're not all that efficient, that lot, are they?" he said, fake amusement in his voice, waving his hand towards the Death Eaters who glared coldly at him from beneath the slits in their hoods.

          "Are you telling me that you have heard it, Potter?" said Voldemort disbelievingly.

          Harry nodded, sneering also. "Uh huh. Very interesting, I must say." He felt the people behind him stir. Nobody had ever heard him talk about the Prophecy that they did not know he knew. Ron and Hermione exchanged fleeting glances, neither of them having heard it either.

          Voldemort looked suddenly wary, his taunting face overshadowed by doubt. "A good bluff, Potter. No doubt Dumbledore's idea."

          Harry laughed softly, confidence beginning to take over. "Sorry, it's not a bluff. I know exactly what is going to happen. Which I guess, you could say," he said, tilting his head slightly and appearing to be deliberate to the point, "gives me a slight advantage."

          A Death Eater, out of anger no doubt towards Harry taunting his master, drew his wand and was about to mutter a spell before Voldemort raised his own wand, and pointed it at the Death Eater.

          "I told you," he hissed. "Potter is mine."

          Harry tutted. "Misbehaviour in the ranks, eh?"

          Voldemort straightened up. "Avada Kedavra!" he hissed at the Death Eater, which fell, at his feet. "Unlike you, it seems, I can afford a few losses. Let that be a lesson to anyone else who decides to disobey my direct orders." The Death Eaters did not show their fear, but nodded. He turned up to look at Harry. "So, Potter. You have decided to take a stand against us."

          "That's right."

          Nodding, Voldemort looked around at the giants, Death Eaters and Dementors as if sizing them up and comparing them. Then, with a certain amount of amusement in his voice, he said coolly, "You, and what army?"

          There was movement to the side of the staircase. Dumbledore was framed in the doorway, anger radiating from him. "That, would be mine, Tom," he said.

AN: Second instalment : complete! So what do you lot think of that then? READ AND REVIEW! PLEASE! Savvy?