A/N: I had this great plan of updating sooner then this…you can see how well that went. But in my defense I just couldn't make this chapter work! Believe me when I say that I was writing, just didn't like the product that ended up on paper…yuck. Anyway, I feel better about this compilation then I did about any other. Hope that everyone reading it will enjoy it.

CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT WE ONLY HAVE 8 MORE DAYS!

Warning: Character death is back…with a vengeance. Sometimes I really wonder if there is something wrong with me…

Disclamer: Does anyone else get tired of writing these? "Yes your honor, I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth…I do not own anything in this story (but the plot) and am not making any money from it."

Chapter 9

1 month ago

The Burrow

Of what we know, what do we know to be certain?

Will there always be a sun to rise and set as the earth moves in its appointed course? Will clouds always form from the evaporated water of the ocean, and always return it by saturating the thirsty ground?

Will good always triumph over evil?

My point is…nothing is certain…even what we see with our own eyes.

With our future secured to our satisfaction, we delved into the mystery abolishment. The innovation and creativity of the spells involved had to be admired, for all were original and unable to be duplicated. Whoever was responsible proved to be extremely powerful, maybe too powerful to be just one person. We dismissed the idea that two people were involved; one person is smart but people are stupid. If more than one had been involved, one of them surely would have made a mistake or left a clue. Conversely, it was hard to imagine that this was the work of just one person. It was such a conundrum.

We did not allow anyone to leave Hogwarts, explaining that it was much safer to stay behind the protecting wards of the school. But as strong as those wards were, fear still seeped through.

Trepidation and cynicism oozed into logical minds.

People walking alone would casually look over their shoulder.

Trusted friendships were forgotten.

Simple sentences were attacked for their "real meaning".

No one was immune to this scrutiny.

The worst part was that there was nothing we could do to validate or invalidate our suspicions. Since we all had learned long ago to resist the effects of the Imperious Curse, we could all easily resist the controlling nature of Veritaserum. We had to live without justification of the baneful thoughts that randomized in our minds.

Outwardly, we always disguised our surveillance of each other as just keeping an eye out for one another, but the truth was we wanted to keep an eye on one another.

And I had no doubt that I was first on their suspect list.

I was not surprised.

But I was rather disappointed when Draco changed.

He began to look at me differently, always casting furtive glances in my direction, tensing whenever I would touch him. He always denied my questioning, so I just tried not to provide any ammunition for his paranoia.

I did not blame him, and as angry as I was that his faith in me was shaken, the only reason I caught those furtive glances is because I had been casting my own.

Evil is a faceless stranger

Possessing such great danger

It walks among us wearing a mask

Deceiving us all, finishing its task

Still congregated at Hogwarts, we decided to make the best out of the time that we had, instead of just waiting until the next wave of terror hit.

A party was planned.

Determined to celebrate the small victories we could claim, several of us made our way to New Diagon Alley to purchase supplies for our last festivity.

But our arrival disturbed the neglect that had taken over.

New Diagon Alley, conceived only to create an illusion of normalcy, was never a bustle of activity. With only a few shops reopened, the expectation of finding little to no life on those streets was routine. But this was different; this was desertion.

It was what happens to today when it becomes yesterday. Discarded. Abandoned.

I have never seen the earth look so empty.

We did not investigate, already knowing what the result would be. Instead we continued with our plan and gathered our provisions, even leaving money on empty counter tops.

Apparating back to the path leading to Hogwarts, we were still reeling from the bizarre encounter, when we were hit with another one.

The sensation that dusk had arrived early was dismissed as their eyes drifted skyward to locate the source of the darkening sky. What they saw was amassed in such quantity that the flight of the creatures redirected the flow of air and disturbed the foliage scattered on the ground. The number was so great that it blocked those watching of their view of heaven.

Owls.

Hundreds and thousands of owls.

From below they watched, surprise turning to astonishment as the messengers passed overhead to seek salvation in another world.

A tiny wisp, pure as a snowflake, broke away from the flock and floated down to perch on her master's shoulder. He had watched her decent and now stroked her feathers that were the color of innocence.

He was stalling, trying to summon the strength for what she needed him to do.

She needed him to say good-bye.

Emotions restrained, he leaned in and whispered his release. She lingered a moment longer and nipped his finger before soaring off to rejoin the migration. His eyes never left her, only blinking when she was indiscernible in the horizon.

He hoped that he would see his beloved Hedwig again.

We thought we had more time, but things were deteriorating more rapidly.

The party had felt like a lie, a feeling akin to what a child feels when a mother tries to reassure them after the loss of a pet. It was hollow, but we faked it anyway.

We drank Butterbeer and Fire Whiskey.

We danced to up-beat songs and slower romantic songs.

We talked with each other.

We laughed as if everything was all right.

We refused to acknowledge that what had remained of the entire wizarding world could fit inside the Great Hall.

We ignored our pounding heartbeats and cold sweat of anticipation, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the next wave of terror hit.

Everyone had perfected their mask of relaxation and happiness, the music was continuous, alcohol was consumed without inhibition, and couples relished each other's company.

Then it all suddenly stopped. Evil had arrived.

The music halted, the lights went out, and all the chatter stopped. We were plunged into absolute silence and darkness; instinctively we grabbed the closest hand and held it firm as a small sound penetrated the palpable stillness, a sound that reminded me of a spitball blown through a straw.

Over and over again, this sound ripped through the silence.

I have no concept of how much time had lapsed since it all began. Sometimes it feels like it was an eternity, other times it feels like mere moments. But when it stopped, it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

The lights returned.

As my eyes adjusted to the intrusion of light, I could see that only a few people were standing. My vision clearing, I could then recognize that it was Draco, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, and Hermione. They were all wearing identical expressions of incomprehension.

And I saw why.

Littered on the floor were my friends, my companions, my lineage. Pools of blood leaked from their wounds and slowly surrounded them, creating a macabre aura. Some were still clutching their loved ones hand.

Ginny was sobbing against Ron's shoulder, Hermione looked furious, and Charlie kept running his hand through his hair while trying not to break down.

The horror of the situation surpassed the death around us.

We were the only ones left.

Why were we spared?

Was it a blessing or punishment?

By mutual unspoken agreement, we fled…back to the Burrow.

Secluded in the Burrow, we all tried to ignore the beckoning of surrender, the temptation to float into oblivion. We did not know when our turn would come, who would be taken next, or whether we should try to fight.

But the darker things become, the stronger the human spirit will shine.

There is no better representation of "busy work" then housework. Dust something and it needs dusting again tomorrow, but even something so mundane can tender the most unexpected results.

While the others chose to wither away the days in defeat, she would ceaselessly clean, all the while thinking that one so clever should be doing something better with her time. Research and knowledge would not provide an answer though, and she saw no use pretending to hope.

She absently feathered over collections, shelves, her beloved books and she thoughtlessly passed a rag over the frames of the portraits in the hall. Passing through doorways and hallways, her movements were suddenly arrested as her subconscious tapped her on the shoulder.

Something was wrong.

Repeating her path, she tried to determine what was causing her alarm. Her analysis of the environment finally unveiled the dilemma when she recreated her action of dusting the doorway.

Her hand passed right through.

Long void of laughter or conversation, her cry of alarm echoed easily through the house and demanded the attention of others. Her husband, her hero and her intellectual equal responded.

Scampering to all corners of the house, they were unable to find any solidity. Final assessment revealed this contamination of transparency violated the entire abode.

Everything…everything…was fading away.

With voices rising in panic, the four cast worthless spell after worthless spell. They hurriedly produced potions that might as well have been water. Nothing was working and one of them was reminded of a question spoken by his first year betrayal, what is this magic?

Only two in the household had not turned up for the discovery and the effort, the youngest and the oldest.

Now they became hunted.

Locating them in the living room, the youngest man of the family notified the others and proceeded in to express his relief that they had been found before the inquisition began. Half serious, he joked his suspicion over their absence in hopes of preparing them into having an explanation, all the while his mind wondered why they did not speak.

Arriving closer, realization crushed his heart.

He could see right through them.

Their faces looked back at him, apology in their eyes, but he would not take it.

"I failed you, not the other way around."

The others arrived to find the last member of the household speaking his admiration to his older brother and his pride to his younger sister. They gathered around him, explanation concluded. They watched him as he tenderly touched the air around his sister's face while she tried not to look terrified.

Fever pitching, more spells were cast with no effect. The one who had joined this family by marriage could not handle the sight unfolding before her, and fled from the room. The other's followed, not wanting to eavesdrop on the family's last moments.

No one spoke as they collectively waited hour after agonizing hour for the phenomenon to complete. Slowly, this prolonged torture omitted an entire home and erased two of its members.

And on a grassy hill top, four people stood on an invisible foundation, shrouded in despair.

The trio survived…plus one.

But it wasn't over yet.

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A/N: Well peeps…only two more chapters left! What will happen? When will it happen? Stay tuned…

As always, thank you so much for reading. Please leave your thoughts; I would love to hear them!

Xikum: I am so glad that you are back! Your review regarding Harry's breakdown affecting the wizarding world was really inspirational! If only I hadn't already determined the ending, I would have asked your permission to incorporate that thought into the story. Really, it was an excellent idea.

I am afraid that this chapter validates your second review, but all hope is not lost! It may or may not be the end of the wizarding world after all, (don't you love my subtle way to keep you reading?).

Thank you again for your insightful and though provoking review!

Silver Emerald Eyes: My darlin', don't you ever apologize! Late or not, I am just so happy when I see your name pop up in my email! Your reviews are almost a story in themselves! Seriously, you really know how to make someone feel wonderful.

I am sorry for the POV confusion in the opening of the last chapter, but wow…thank you forever for all those fabulous things you said! "The Perfect Rose" poem is actually mine, and I am so honored that you liked it so much! Personally, I think my poetry sucks, especially when I compare it to my brother's. I am also delighted that the first scene portrayed for you everything that I wanted it to. It's hard to write that kind of emotion, you know? Again, thank you SO much for everything; you truly are my sun, my moon, and my world.

Charmina: I inspired a "Chandler Dance"? Me? Are you sure you reviewed the right story? In case you did, a BIG HUGE thank you is deserved. You review was so touching, and don't sell yourself short! Your writing is truly beautiful!

I hope this chapter finds you still in enjoyment of my story! Thank you again!

Dragenphly: Alright, you caught me…I am evil :)! But that admission will still not compel me to tell you if the tissue industry will experience a shortage when this story is over…sorry. My evilness is perversely pleased that you are still reading, and I thank you for the encouraging review!