Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's, as is any character you recognise. The ones you don't are mine.

Chapter Six: The Battle of Little Whinging

Terrence Ravens wasn't sure what he expected. He knew that sitting at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the inevitable arrival of three teenage wizards didn't sound too daunting; add in that they were three teenage wizards who had managed to repel a horde of vicious Death Eaters without a single death was quite another level of difficulty altogether. He expected them to act brashly, assured of their victory, perhaps attacking with a great deal of bravado due to their swollen confidence in their own ability. What Raves hadn't counted on, though, was Harry Potter striding quietly around the corner and seeming almost surprised to see him standing there, next to his partner, Alecto Carrows.

It was she who spoke to him first, narrowing her eyes at Harry with obvious contempt. "Well, well, Potter… isn't this one stupid move? You walked right into us, and now you're the proverbial rabbit in the headlights… or the half-blood scum in the crossfire…" she said with a twisting sneer on her face. Harry looked at her mildly, as though she had just said something about the weather that he faintly disagreed with, but didn't fancy pressing the point. Unnerved, Ravens looked to his partner for some advice.

"Not speaking Potty? Well, that's all right, you don't have to speak. I'm sure we can coax some noise out of you…" Alecto twirled her wand lazily in her hands, her eyes dancing over Harry mercilessly before she snapped it towards him and cried "Crucio!"

"Protego!" Harry deflected the curse before it even got near him, deflecting it against the wall from his perfectly performed shield charm as he levelled his wand at her, a smile tugging at his lips. Alecto narrowed her eyes, feeling slightly humiliated as Ravens noted the suddenly angry twitch to her muscles.

"Avada Kedavra!" she cried, well before Ravens managed to scream out his disapproval, but Harry was much too quick, leaping aside and raising his wand at Carrows before she could even turn to face him.

Harry hit her with a combination-jinx, the type he'd so wanted to progress to teaching his DA students but had never got as far as. The Leg-Locker Curse hit her first, tying her legs together tightly, followed by the Levicorpus Charm, leaving her hanging upside down, disarmed and unable to react. He noted with a smile the look of incredulous shame on Alecto's features, before he turned his wand on Ravens and Stunned him before he could fully assimilate what had happened.

His smile disappeared as he took in Alecto's rage, not at all phased by her anger and in fact, rather strongly responding to it. How dare she be angry with him? She, who had invaded his house and attacked him first; He felt icy rage rising in him, as he strode towards Carrows with fury etched in his face. She seemed to quail under his rage, but Harry didn't stop. He walked right by her, allowing her to believe he'd given her a respite, before he threw a Stunning Spell over his shoulder and left her hanging unconscious in mid-air.

Harry's stomach had now lodged itself unpleasantly in his throat as he strode down the corridor, measuring his steps slowly so as to delay the inevitable encounter. He knew what to expect – had known it from the moment he parted from Ron – but in truth he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Hera swept lazily after him, filling him with a thrill of confidence every time his senses perceived her, but all the same, the rational, unaffected part of Harry's brain recognised the perilous situation he was walking in to. There was even a niggling sense of doubt that the Endowment Charm wouldn't apply in the garden, but the charm itself worked hard to dispel this doubt.

Harry approached the back door, his wand raised and ready, his mind already playing out the scenario when he would burst through the door; but he suddenly found himself no longer moving, frozen in front of the doorway. Several dark thoughts raced through his head, before he concentrated on something that would give him the strength to continue. What had Dumbledore trumpeted as Harry's greatest strength? His ability to love… and he'd need that to walk away alive tonight…

Harry's mind cast over Hermione, the sister he never had. He thought about all the good times they'd had together, the fact that they'd never gone a lengthy period without being friends and that she was unflinchingly loyal even in the face of a slander campaign launched by the Daily Prophet. This, inevitably, drew his mind to Ron: his best mate and most loyal companion; the guy he'd trust with his life and Hermione's more than anyone. If Hermione was his sister, Ron was indisputably his brother. Harry couldn't imagine a life without them, but equally, he felt his heart fill with an icy numbness at what might become of their lives without him. No, he admonished himself; Ron and Hermione have each other. They'll make do. They'll be together, the way Ginny and I…

But that dragged his thoughts to Ginny, and Harry stiffened involuntarily. He searched his mind, thinking about everything Ginny and he had shared; that kiss in the common room, that first, not-at-all awkward walk around the grounds; more importantly, their first real date, when Harry had treated her to a midnight dinner in the kitchens, courtesy of Dobby's ability to repel the House-Elves from any particular place should be become sufficiently annoying. He felt his entire body shake with sadness at the thought of what could be his death; how could he stomach never seeing Ginny again? After everything he had been forced to do to her – break up with her, exclude her – how could he consciously take the decision to deprive her of any chance of them ever being together again?

Because our relationship isn't worth the lives of Ron, Hermione or anyone. If it's a choice between a person and us being together, the person wins every time, Harry thought dispassionately. With a quiet nod to himself, he drew himself up to his full height and resigned himself to his attack.

Before he could realistically consider not plunging himself straight into the action, he raised his wand at the door and thought "Reducto!" and watched as the wood splintered violently as the door was wrenched from its hinges. Harry was out through it in a second, in a flurry of black shapes, two of which he stunned instantly, firing off the curses without any kind of thought about it, relying on instinct to guide his composed duelling. He threw up a Shield Charm immediately, deflecting a few curses before he slammed another Death Eater with the Impediment Jinx.

He heard a shout though, as though someone had been caught off-guard, and he swivelled around, wondering if help had arrived. To his horror, however, the dark swish of cloak swept aside to reveal blood-red eyes, snake-like nostrils, a thin-lipped mouth and a raised wand, which cried "Expelliarmus!" in a high, icy pitch; followed by a shout of "Petrificus Totalus!" from the Death Eater next to him. Harry wavered, frozen immediately and disarmed as he stared into the cold eyes which bore through him with a kind of sickening malice.

Lord Voldemort had won Round One, at least.

Ron smoothed Hermione's tousled hair away from her pale cheeks and flickering eyes, and tried desperately to ignore the soft mumbles and moans he heard coming from her blood-encrusted lips. He wiped the trail of blood from the side of her mouth delicately away, using the hem of his pyjama top, and he tested her ribs gingerly – from the back, flushing with shame at the thought of trying the front ones – to make sure nothing was broken. Satisfied, but still trembling at the horror of it all, he hefted Hermione up to her feet, her completely limp form leaning on the one good arm he had draped around her waist. His useless stump of a left hand was bluntly holding her own left arm over his head, as he dragged her unceremoniously down the corridor.

Desperation began to take over as Ron struggled towards the end of the corridor, fearing what he might find every step of the way. He could hear the roar of battle outside, something that both surprised and terrified him. There were muffled shouts of Dark curses and other, less harsh curses from the force opposing the Death Eaters; Ron assumed that the Order had to get here sometimes, be he was open to the possibility that it might be a Ministry taskforce responding to the extensive use of magic – Harry's underage, in particular – in such a Muggle-concentrated area. He hoped fervently for some familiar faces, because he had a feeling some nameless Ministry Auror would try to pack him off to St Mungo's for healing, when in actuality he was going to barge right back into this house and fight Voldemort alongside Harry – once Hermione was safely ensconced in St Mungo's, however.

He could feel the panic at Hermione's condition welling up inside him, but he roughly stomped on it. Now is NOT the time to panic, Weasley! he admonished himself internally, the knowledge that Hermione was utterly dependent on him driving him towards that which he'd rather flee. The battle drew nearer as Ron lugged Hermione down the stairs, pausing briefly to summon his courage before he stepped into the corridor.

It proved to be a wise move, as the door was suddenly ripped from its hinges as one of the plebeian Death Eaters was blasted across the corridor, slamming against the kitchen door and wedging it open. Ron gaped as the sounds of a furious battle from outside assaulted his ears, and wrenched his head around to see the neat garden of Number 4, Privet Drive in flames, blackened and charred as the cream of the Ministry's Auror division battled furiously against the unscrupulous Death Eaters. He watched as Order members appeared through the turmoil as well, lit up by various explosions near him, or suddenly becoming visible through the gaps in Death Eater line that Rubeus Hagrid was constantly creating with his flailing fists.

Hagrid! Ron thought panicked, watching as six different Death Eaters aligned their wands on Hagrid's massive frame, ready to fire off some unmentionable curse. Instinctively, without causing the unconscious Hermione any added discomfort, Ron raised his still good hand, clutching his wand and aimed at the ground directly beneath the Death Eaters, crying "INFLATIUS!" with all he had and watching as the rudimentary posse were blown in several different directions.

Hagrid looked up in astonishment at the sudden attack, and Ron watched helplessly as his crinkled black eyes focused on Ron's charred form and suddenly overflowed with relief and hope. He slammed another Death Eater out of the way as Ron raised his wand and cursed another, before Hagrid was upon them.

"Ron! Hermione! Ruddy Merlin, we've bin' terrified fer yer!" Hagrid sang, relief evident in every syllable, as he lugged the pair onto his back and immediately shattered the rough Death Eater formation by charging through it back into the Order ranks. Ron held Hermione tightly, refusing to let her fall even slightly from his grasp, even when Hagrid lugged Ron back onto his feet back in safe territory, and he stumbled awkwardly and ended up with Hermione lying over him while he blushed furiously the whole time. Hagrid helped him out with a grim look in his eyes.

"Ron, wha' happened to Hermione?" Hagrid said, panicked. He had a genuinely horror-stricken look on his face as he cradled her limp form, and Ron gave him a look that conveyed his own horror at the situation.

"Bellatrix Lestrange… curse in the back… my fault… didn't… my fault…" Ron was entirely trembling, the shock of his injury now truly hitting him without of the distraction of Hermione's welfare to worry about. He raised his stump of a hand uselessly at Hermione, meaning to run his fingers through her hair but discovering to his dismay that they weren't there. Hagrid just gawped in horror at Ron's hand before he suddenly turned around, still holding Hermione and bellowed,

"REMUS! REMUS! Git' over here, ye' lousy werewolf, our Hermione's injured!" Ron squinted through the mass of people, the smoke and dust trampled up by the various curses and flailing bodies obscuring his view in time to see Remus Lupin Apparate from the chaos and appear at Hagrid's side.

"What's happened?" he asked frantically, his usually impeccably calm demeanour shattered in the flush of battle. His eyes travelled over the trembling Ron and the unconscious Hermione, and they widened, horrified. He raised his wand and immediately fired out two lithe wolf Patroni – ordinary wolves, not the were-variety – in opposite directions; one towards the battle, one towards the Order Party holding back. "Hagrid, we have to get them away from the Death Eaters, they're too close…"

"Remus, I don' reckon they'll break through here, Kingsley's line's too ruddy good…" Hagrid argued passionately, surprising Ron with the vehemence in his voice. "These kids have bin' through more tonight tha' they oughta' have ever faced…"

"I'm not arguing that Hagrid, or the proficiency of Kingsley's line. I merely want Ron nowhere near that house, because as soon as he has a new hand, he'll be clamouring to get back in there… especially… if Harry's… still alive…" Lupin trailed off here, notably paling as his eyes snapped to Ron. Ron stared back at him with resentment in his mind, clouding around the murkiness of his injury as he realised Lupin's intention to hamper his capability to help Harry.

"Harry… still alive… get Hermione to safety!" he yelled with much more clarity than he felt he had, his eyes burning with the desire to see her safe. Lupin stared at Ron carefully, before nodding just as Ron's eldest brother, Bill Weasley, Apparated to his side. His eyes widened as he took in Ron, trembling, and he immediately enveloped him in a bear-hug with a strangled cry.

"Ron! By Merlin, we thought… we were afraid…" he said hysterically. Lupin cut him off though, with a hand on his shoulder.

"Bill, this isn't about Ron. Hermione is grievously injured, and seeing as you yourself aren't exactly in tip-top condition, I think you need to take her to St. Mungo's and stay with her, to make sure nothing happens to her…" Lupin said forcefully. Ron could see Bill's ire rising, but it seemed to disappear as he self-consciously ran his fingers over his were-scars. He then looked at the completely limp Hermione and his eyes widened and his back stiffened.

"You got her out, Ron?" he asked, his eyes on the prone girl. Ron nodded, which Bill caught out of the corner of his eye, and he laid a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Mum's going to be so proud…" he said with a slight tear in his eye. Ron gulped, looking up into Bill's eyes desperately.

"Please Bill… you need to stay with her… I have to rescue Harry…" Ron said dejectedly, but set his jaw when he saw Bill and Lupin about to challenge him. "GO! SHE NEEDS HELP!" he roared, earning a determined nod from his brother and Bill Disapparated immediately. Lupin looked at Ron grimly, and motioned to his stump of a hand.

Ron hardly noticed that Minerva McGonagall had arrived, or that she and Lupin were discussing his injury with Hagrid offering several helpful points, because his mind remained firmly focused on the last time he had seen Hermione alive and well. He thought back to earlier in Dudley's bedroom, when she had stood next to him, wand raised, her cheeks flushed with the exertion of the battle, her hair mussed and her eyes alight with a fire Ron desired more than anything to be directed towards him. He remembered every detail of her battle-ready stance, from the chips of plaster in her hair – evidence of her cunning defeat of Kova and Rosier – down to the completely steady way she held her wand directly at Snape, her teeth bared in an expression of pure fearlessness.

An icy cold gripped Ron's heart as he considered what might happen to Hermione. He couldn't lose her. It was impossible. He would trade anything for that, most notably himself. He just couldn't.

His reverie was broken by the stern voice of Professor McGonagall, who was staring at him sympathetically. "Well, Ron, what material would you like your new hand to be?" she asked sadly. Ron was taken aback.

"You can create a new hand for me?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes, although it won't be muscle, sinew and blood like the last one" she said, just as sadly as before.

Ron thought to himself, remembering a scene from earlier tonight. "It'll be like Wormtail's? Not flesh, but some kind of metal?"

"If that is what you want, Ron. I would ask that you don't make it too flimsy, as it has to stand up to the beating you will undoubtedly give the first Death Eater who gets near you…" she said wryly. Ron thought hard to himself, going over everything Hermione had ever said to him in their conversations, thinking of a metal she might have mentioned that was precious to her. Later, he would cringe in mortification at such a trivial pursuit, but he quickly sprung upon a moment they'd shared last year; something that happened in the aftermath of the invitation to Slughorn's Party.

"I… well… I suppose it is a date… we have to dress up nicely, right?" Ron suggested to Hermione timidly, flushing all the same. She met his embarrassment with a pink glow of her own, before she bit her lip attractively.

"Well… yes, I suppose that's true" she answered nervously. "It's just… well… don't expect too much, ok? I… I haven't got any Sleekeazy's this time… so… I mean, I didn't look that nice at the Yule Ball, but I liked my hair…I mean, I'm not saying it was perfect, but… it looked better, I suppose, than my usual tangle…" She was rambling, and Ron couldn't help but find this completely endearing. He smiled softly at her and eased her worries.

"You looked breathtaking at the Yule Ball…" he said as he flushed at his own daring, but felt immensely cheered to see her blanch and flush prettily. He delighted in his own ability to bring out such marvellous colour in her cheeks. "But I don't know what you're on about with your hair… I've always loved it… it's a brilliant colour, not like my hideous orange dome…" he said dejectedly. Hermione, however, delighted him further by reaching across the table and running her hands through his hair, sending shockwaves down his neck. It was a complete turnaround from the deliciously nervous Hermione from before, and he felt like he'd just lost control.

"Copper" she announced, all that he managed to discern as he savoured the soft glide of her hands.

"Wha… what? What's copper?" he asked stupidly, his manner lazy. He flushed at the grin Hermione shot him – she seemed to like that she could get such a reaction out of him. He groaned slightly as she answered him.

"Your hair is copper. It's the best metal-coloured thing I've ever seen, better than anything gold. Copper might not be beautiful or shiny like gold, but it's strong, and useful, and distinct; just like you…" she said softly, watching him. His heart fluttered madly, a surge of adrenaline pumping through his veins…

He vaguely remembered being interrupted by Ginny. Ginny and that blasted Dean Thomas arguing about Quidditch formations and Ginny rudely asking Ron for his thoughts on the best Chaser attack formations. It was one of many things he hadn't yet cleared up with Ginny yet, because that was really his one and only opportunity that arose to genuinely kiss Hermione. Shortly afterwards, Ginny had revealed that harrowing information about Viktor Krum, and Ron had screwed everything up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to think about that. He had a question to answer. "Copper" he announced determinedly to Professor McGonagall, his eyes still closed in reflection. "I want my new hand to be copper."

McGonagall looked at him shrewdly, before answering quietly. "You're quite sure of this, Mr Weasley?" Lupin and Hagrid were both looking at Ron curiously, as thought they would have liked to know why he chose such a strange-coloured metal.

Ron shrugged, non-committed, and muttered "Goes with my hair…" Lupin almost laughed at that one, but the look on Ron's face as he held up his trembling stump silenced it before he even opened his mouth.

Professor McGonagall concentrated hard on Ron's forearm in front of her, tracing the tip of her wand over it, gracing it with the physical contours of Ron's arm. Thinking back, Ron realised he couldn't ever remember Harry describing this part of Pettigrew's regeneration – he could put that down to Voldemort's magical prowess, he supposed, when compared with McGonagall's. When she was satisfied, Professor McGonagall raised her wand and muttered an incantation to herself, conjuring a globular ball of copper from the air, which she delicately reshaped into a large hand, comparing its shape against Ron's still-natural fist. When she was satisfied, she uncurled the first and directed it airily onto the end of Ron's forearm, knitting the skin to the metal with a stinging sensation that elicited a gasp from Ron.

He was astonished at the effect. His hand was suddenly there again, his brain seeming to clunk back into motion. The shock that had previously been there dissipated almost at once, and Ron found himself clenching his new, copper, fist reflexively. It took him a few seconds to recover from his surprise, and then he was on his feet immediately.

"Harry's still in that house. I'm going in for him!" he announced grimly, then dared any of the three of them to deny him this right with a furious glare. Professor McGonagall looked highly affronted, but she seemed to be checking her retort; Hagrid looked shocked but also oddly awed, as though he respected Ron's courage; Lupin looked grim, his eyes trawling Ron's, searching to see if this was simple bravado or not. Finally, Lupin nodded and spoke for him.

"He's of age, and we can't stop him. Minerva, Hagrid, Ron has every right to be on the front line with us. And to be fair, he's an asset we can't afford not to exploit…" he said, with a slight smile at Ron, who nodded immediately, and turned to sprint off in the direction of Privet Drive, where the chaos still reigned, the entire street set alight by wayward curses and explosions. He checked his run suddenly though, turning towards the three who had helped him.

"Hagrid, Prof… Remus… er, Headmistress McGonagall…" He said tentatively, more grateful that he knew how to express. "Er… thank you. This… I'm not being disrespectful, I just promised Harry…"

"We know, Ronald. And it's Minerva, during the holidays, at least…" Professor McGonagall said with a twinkle and a tear in her eye. Ron felt awkward, but looked her in the eye anyway and gave her an encouraging smile.

"Right Professor… now… Hagrid, can you help me get into that house?"

"Help ye'? Ruddy Merlin Ron, I'll throw ye' in mesel'…" Hagrid roared, pulling himself up to his full height and running off towards the melee with Ron immediately behind him.

Instinct took over the youngest Weasley male, as he charged into the furious fighting, raising his wand and his metallic fist together, rattling off a curse at one Death Eater and slamming his fist into another who got near enough, hearing the sickening crack of bone with a satisfaction he hadn't expected. He whirled around in the tumult, launching curses in various directions every time he saw the flash of the gold Death Eater mask, or the falling body of someone who wasn't in a Death Eater mask. He lost all cohesive thought, simply blasting people out of his way, Stunning and Disarming and Impeding his way to the door, with Hagrid physically tearing apart the opposition's formations with his huge bulk.

Finally, Ron could see the last remnants of the opposition standing defiantly in front of Number 4's wrecked porch. Their orders were to keep the Order out of the house, but Ron wasn't prepared to take no for an answer. He'd gotten out; therefore, he'd get back in. Raising his wand at the six Death Eaters, he cried "INFLATIUS!"

The Death Eater at the front though, one Ron didn't recognise, deflected the curse right back at Ron, and he was forced to duck wildly to avoid it. He grimaced as it churned up the ground behind him with a large explosion, but being on his knees already, he wasn't toppled. He quickly roared to his feet and slammed an unbalanced Death Eater with his skin fist before charging through the stumbling mass towards the door, ducking and deflecting curses as he went.

"RON! ON YOUR LEFT!" His eyes snapped to his left as he saw Alecto Carrows emerge from the bushes and raise her wand, her eyes already screaming Avada Kedavra. Instinctively, Ron raised his hand to ward off the blast, but before he could even muster a paltry Shield Charm, Carrows was hit by two simultaneous Stunners from behind. Ron looked up to see Fred and George running towards him, gesturing him inside.

Ron – his mind going a mile a minute – leapt into the corridor and sent two Reductor Curses at the roof over the kitchen doorway, giving Fred and George a cover of dust and rubble to drive into the house under. To Ron's astonishment, however, they were followed by Professors Flitwick and Sprout, as well as Lee Jordan, all of whom gave Ron a bracing look as he roared out to attack the Death Eaters barricaded in the Dursley's kitchen.

Of the small garrison, three were relatively green Death Eaters. Marcus Flint – the former Slytherin Quidditch captain –, and his friends Rodger Derrick and Bobby Bole, were in their first real expedition as Voldemort's servants. The veterans of the garrison had all seen action that night already; Donna Yaxley, already Stunned once by Harry; Terence Ravens, who shared that fate; Fenrir Greyback, who had been forced into a retreat alongside Amycus Carrows, who too barricaded their way; and Brad Travers, Hermione's last victim before her subsequent cursing.

Their relative experience couldn't help them against the fury of Hagrid, however, when he broke through to the kitchen and immediately slammed his fist into Ravens' face, throwing him against the wall in a crumpled heap. Almost immediately, the surrounding Death Eaters threw a barrage of curses at him, but his Giant's Blood deflected the majority of curses, while Fred, George and Lee circled him, deflecting curses and using his huge, magically-protected bulk as a shield. Lee gave a great whooping shout when he slammed Yaxley with a Stunner, but quickly leapt behind Hagrid to avoid Greyback's furious pounce. Very quickly, Hagrid and Greyback were involved in a furious tussle, the werewolf's lupine agility a decent counter to Hagrid's supreme strength.

Ron could hardly ask for better back-up, as only Amycus seemed capable of repelling the whirling, twirling Duelling Champion that was Filius Flitwick. He leapt around tables, running up walls with cleverly placed Sticking Charms to give himself unusual angles, and threw curses under his arm, over his shoulder or upside-down, more often than not striking a Death Eater or a Shield Charm.

Pomona Sprout, on the other hand, had none of his finesse, but she was a very tough fighter, staying immovably in one spot and casting superb Shield Charms every time she was attacked, retaliating with unique and obscure curses every chance she got.

Ron himself was engaged in a desperate fury to get to Harry, and this often led to him kicking and punching the Death Eaters if he got near them. Lee's conquest of Yaxley and Hagrid's destruction of Ravens left only Amycus, Greyback and Travers along with the three green Death Eaters, none of whom seemed able to cope with Flitwick. Indeed, Bole was incapacitated with such an immovable and irreversible Tickling Charm that Flint Stunned him himself to drown out the incessant laughter. Delighted by this moment of distraction by the former Quidditch captain, Ron slammed past Derrick with a shove of his shoulder and thundered his metallic fist into Flint's astonished face, breaking his nose with a sickening crack and sending him sprawling. Before he could even get up, he was hit with "Incarcerous!" and Ron was suddenly clean through on the doorway. Or he thought he was, because so engaged was Ron with trying to tug his foot free of Derrick's desperate grasp that he missed the contingent of Death Eaters that erupted through the back door, and the fact that Bellatrix Lestrange had her wand on him, a sick glee spreading across her face like the Black Plague.

"RON! LOOK OUT!" The shout came from a quarter his eyes weren't watching, but Ron's head snapped around in time to see Bellatrix roar, "Ivalidum!", and watch as the dark blue jet of light erupted towards him. Ron barely had time to register the fact that he needed a Shield Charm when he was suddenly slammed hard from the side and thrown unceremoniously out of the way of the charm, a strong pair of arms around his waist dragging him to the floor. There was an explosion of plaster behind them and his saviour – Fred or George – immediately cast a Shield Charm to ward off even more attacks. Ron, sensing the need for action, raised his wand and pointed it at the feet of the crowd of Death Eaters, crying "Locomotor Mortis!" which hit Pettigrew's legs, locked them together and sent him sprawling on the floor.

As he fell, Wormtail grabbed Pernickle's cloak desperately allowing Flitwick to Stun him and suddenly the fight was on. The reinforcement corps of Death Eaters – including the injured Rosier and the re-armed Snape – began a furious multi-person duel with the members of the Order, who had now been joined by Kingsley Shacklebolt and a younger member Ron didn't recognise. Such was the intensity of the fight that soon the entire room was engulfed in plaster and smoke from various wayward curses, and Ron could hardly seen two feet in front of him. He Stunned anything in black that got close enough, but before long he had lost patience with his reduced vision. His lack of foresight had resulted in several unseemly cuts and bruises from various hexes.

Thinking furiously, Ron reasoned that he had to clear this dust from the sky. He deflected a wayward Stunner from his right while wracking his brains for a charm that would fit the situation. Think, Weasley! You know Hermione would have one right at the tip of her tongue! His thoughts of Hermione, however, only intensified his anger, and as he whirled back to the smoke and dust, he spotted Bellatrix Lestrange again.

Terrifying and spectral, she swept out of the clouds of chaos, her cloak billowing around her, her dark, silky hair framing her waxen, once-beautiful face and her eyes glittering with malice and destruction. She watched, as a panther might lazily watch a chimp swinging idly from branch to branch, unnoticed yet coiled to spring, as Fred emerged from the smoke, looking for someone to duel with. Bella's eyes flashed, her wand was raised.

Ron felt a vicious tug in the area of his chest, his throat constricting with fear. He tried to shout out to Fred, but the chalk and dust in his mouth made it impossible. Instead, his feet propelled himself forward immediately. If only I can get in front of that curse…

He was too late. Fred had turned around, his eyes wide at seeing Lestrange standing in front of him, and a flicker of fear crossed his face, before he raised his wand to defend himself.

Too late.

Bellatrix's curse had already struck him, hard, in the chest. Fred groaned in agony and immediately clutched his chest, the blood draining from his face as he fell to his knees and coughed, blood splattering out of his mouth.

"FRED" Ron heard himself scream at the same time as George, who had appeared at his side. Instinctively, his still standing twin brother raised his wand at Bella and cried "STUPEFY!" but she simply melted back into the smoke, effectively cackling at her own malice. Ron didn't care. He was cradling Fred's head on his knees, blood seeping out of his mouth as he struggled to get his eyes to focus.

"George! You have to get him to St Mungo's!" Ron said, his panic-stricken eyes finding those of his brother, who looked utterly desolate at the injury of his twin. George took a second to process this, before his eyes hardened and he immediately lifted Fred into his arms. In that second, Lee Jordan emerged from the cloud, nursing a seeping shoulder wound, but he went still at the sight of Fred.

"Oh Merlin!" he said, paling. Ron, sympathetic all the same, didn't have time for this. "Lee, we need to cover George's exit!" Lee nodded immediately, and suddenly the two of them ran for the door, blasting two Death Eaters out of the way and allowing George Fred to pass out of the kitchen and head for the front door. As Ron turned, however, he felt his heart suddenly stop, his entire frame freeze.

Gone was the vicious cloud of smoke. Gone were the wayward curses and launched bodies. Instead, Flitwick, Sprout, Shacklebolt and the unknown Order member stood frozen, wands raised, pointing at the figure in the doorway, whose eyes were settled not on Lestrange, Pernickle, Carrows, Travers, Rosier, Snape and Pettigrew around him, but on the unconscious Hagrid, lying on his back in the corner on top of a thoroughly crushed and thoroughly dead Marcus Flint.

And Lord Voldemort didn't look happy.

Harry cursed his luck as he pulled himself up from his feet. I had him where I bloody wanted him, and I let him escape, he lamented unhappily. Limping badly, Harry looked about for his phoenix, Hera, who had been instrumental in his survival of Voldemort assault. She was swooping low over the trees in the neighbour's gardens, but at a look from Harry, she swept across to him and landed on his shoulder, her thick, pearly tears already running down the wounds on his back and shoulders.

Feeling rejuvenated from her healing properties, Harry took up his wand again and looked back towards the house. The kitchen was alight with chaos, and the smoke was evident to all around. Muggles in neighbouring gardens were watching him, appalled, from their windows. Harry was sure the Ministry would deal with them, but all the same, he couldn't help feel nervous at such a breach of Muggle-wizard security. He risked a glance up at his Aunt and Uncle's bedroom, and he suddenly felt his stomach plummet.

There in the room was Dudley, unmistakeably fighting with a hooded black figure. Horror-stricken, Harry immediately raised his wand at the window, and – taking careful aim – cried "STUPEFY!" The curse took an age to get there, but it successfully smashed through the window and hit the Death Eater in the face. Harry watched him crumple and kept his wand trained on the window in the event that he had an accomplice up there. No-one came. Barring anything that happened before, the Dursleys – or Dudley at least – were safe.

Trying desperately not to think about them, Harry summoned his courage and charged towards the back door, blasting his way through the metal one Riddle had constructed behind him. The door flew off its hinges and slammed into one of the Death Eaters guarding the door, and Harry immediately froze the other one. The rest turned at the sound of the chaos, but Harry could only look on in horror as Lee Jordan, Ron and Professor Flitwick cried out in fury and attacked Voldemort, at whose feet lay the lifeless body of Professor Sprout.

A cold numbing sensation penetrated Harry's blood, and he suddenly roared his fury. He pointed his wand at the nearest Death Eater, one who had grabbed him, and cried, "RELASHIO!" The man stumbled back, his with a jet of hot air, as Harry swung his wand around in an arc and thought furiously, "Incendio Arcus!" The jet of flame whipped through the air like an arc and caught every Death Eater with it, setting a portion of their cloaks on fire. But Harry had no time for them. He charged through the mass, Voldemort his only target.

"RIDDLE! STAND AND FIGHT, YOU COWARD!" he screamed, furious.

Voldemort just regarded him with a cruel smile, but all the same deflected the curse he had unwittingly thrown. "A true general knows when to fight and knows when not to, Potter…" he spat, before hurling a curse at him. Harry dodged around it and charged Voldemort, his wand raised, but he immediately swept around, casting a Disorientation Charm behind him, which Harry walked into. Suddenly the entire room swam, and Harry struggled to get his bearings.

Within seconds, however, Ron had cancelled the charm, and still had enough presence of mind to Stun the rear retreating Death Eater, Travers, as he plunged through the doorway. Harry was up immediately, following the running contingent that had managed to force their way back onto the battleground of the front lawn and were now attacking the Order forces. Furious at the death of Professor Sprout, so unnecessary, Harry plunged out onto the lawn and started hacking Death Eaters out of his way with curses and hexes. He barely registered Ron at his side, fighting just as furiously, because he was so focused on breaking through their ranks to get to Voldemort, who had turned to face the Order and now had his wand trained on the back of a small wizard, usually so jovial, who was fighting desperately to stave off the Death Eaters.

"DEDALUS! GET DOWN!" It was too late. Diggle had barely registered Harry's voice when the Avada Kedavra curse hit him in the back, thrown by Voldemort. He hit the ground, and Harry erupted.

Hatred such as he had never known coursed through his veins, a righteous anger he had flexed before but never truly unleashed. There was a wild screech above him, and his phoenix dived at Voldemort as he himself raised his wand, crying "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Riddle was too fast, dodging it, but Harry was on him immediately, hammering his Shield with a Stunner, then a Hurling Hex; a Cruciatus Curse, a Blasting Hex, another Cruciatus Curse, a dodged Avada Kedavra, two more Stunners, Incarcerous, Immobilus, Impedimenta, a final Stunner which shattered Voldemort's Shield Charm. Harry had him where he wanted him, he had him, but then he cheated.

Voldemort raised his wand, pointed it at Ron and sneered, "Crucio!" Ron was taken by surprise and was suddenly writhing on his knees screaming in agony. Harry, filled with horror, dragged his wand away from Voldemort and cancelled the curse on Ron, but it was all the opening Voldemort needed. With a last, high, icy blast of laugh, he Disapparated with a great crack.

The Death Eaters gave a great keening roar of defiance, and then they too, with a series of smattered pops, vacated the premises too. Harry looked around, horrified at the carnage, and then to Ron, who had climbed to his feet, and was only barely trembling.

"We did it Harry…" he muttered, clearly horrified at everything he'd seen. Ron didn't say anything for a few seconds, and then looked to Harry as if something terrible had happened. "I… we have to go and see Hermione!" he said desperately, the pain evident in his eyes. Harry stared at Ron, and was about to nod compliance, when a horrible thought erupted in his brain.

Dudley.

Suddenly abandoning Ron, Harry turned and sprinted towards the house, his exhaustion nonexistent in such a furious fear. He thundered past Lupin, who tried to stop him and immediately followed him, but Harry had only one thought: get to my aunt and uncle's room. Ignoring the carnage in the hallway, Harry stopped dead when he saw the missing door frame. He remembered the Imperturbable, but he couldn't remember who had cast it.

Trembling, Harry walked through the door, hearing Dudley's keening whimper before he saw his cousin, kneeling on the floor, cradling his battered and bloody mother's head on his lap, while his father, Harry's Uncle Vernon, lay spread out on the floor, his eyes wide and unfocused. He was dead.

Filled with a sudden fury again, that anyone would attack defenceless Muggles, Harry walked over to the unconscious Death Eater and flipped him over, kicking the mask from his face and then freezing in shock as he stared at the face. The Death Eater on the floor was well known to him, despite the remnants of Dudley's boxing defence and the glass shards from Harry's stunner. He'd recognise that face anywhere. And for the second time in a week, one of the people who'd looked after Harry throughout his life had been taken from him by Draco Malfoy.

This chapter was extremely hard to write, I suffered chronic writer's block throughout, but I finally got it finished. It's critical to the plot, but I promise those that wanted to hear what happened between Harry and Voldemort in the back garden only have to wait one chapter. It's an extremely important part of the plot and I want to do it justice.