I got four reviews for the last chapter, people. I'm only updating after such an inadequate crop because I'm leaving on Friday to go to school and I want it all up by then. So REVIEW! You have no idea how ridiculously happy it makes me.

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The last time I was knocked unconscious with magic, I awoke to find myself in a comfortable bed—granted, it was a bed in a whorehouse and I was wearing nothing but an extremely short, extremely see-through white dress, but it was a bed. It was a very nice bed, in fact, and the memory of it was enhanced by my present circumstances. You see, this time, I awoke not in a bed at all but in a puddle of chilly water.

And I was wearing nothing at all.

I raised my head and looked around. I was in a cell. A dank, dark, dingy cell. Not entirely unfamiliar. I might have been in the Hogwarts dungeons if it weren't for the grungy, nasty, starved specimens of humanity locked in the cell opposite me. By the way they were staring at me, I rather thought that they weren't hungering only for food. I ignored them. There were two sets of bars and a powerful enchantment between me and them.

With a groan, I pushed myself up and discovered that there were silver cuffs around my wrists. Shackles made sense, I suppose, but these shackles weren't attached to anything. They looked like bracelets. I sat with my legs crossed and stared at them, frowning in puzzlement. Then I shrugged. They would slip right off once I changed.

Nothing happened.

I tried again. Nothing. And again. And again and again and again. A big, fat load of nothing. But silver didn't affect me—I was super-wolf or something, wasn't I? But wait—I knew silver didn't hurt me. That didn't mean it didn't affect me. I couldn't remember silver ever preventing me from changing, but I couldn't remember ever needing to change while wearing silver, either. I didn't wear it that often; gold looked better on me.

"Something wrong, dear?" a woman's voice asked.

I whipped around and nearly fell over. It was the nurse who had asked me all those dumb questions when I was in the hospital after I was bitten. Susan—no, Sally. That was it.

"You!" I cried in shock. "What--"

"What seems to be the problem?" Sally asked with mocking solicitousness. "Headache? Dizziness? Inability to perform magic?"

"You were the spider," I said accusingly. "You sold me out to Voldemort."

"For a handsome price," Sally agreed. She added, "It wasn't money they offered me, you know. Oh, no—I wanted something else. Something more."

"And what was that?" I sneered, though I was curious in spite of myself. "A new haircut? You need one, sweet-heart."

"The chance to kill that overgrown lawn gnome, Dr. Stanley," she said with an ugly smile. "How I enjoyed that moment. Well, several moments, actually. But then I was rudely interrupted by a bunch of upstart children. I had so wanted to see him die. I wanted--"

"You bitch," I snarled, and launched myself at her.

She disappeared and a spider scuttled away. I scrambled after her on my hands and knees, but was brought up short when a shiny, polished boot came into view as it crushed the spider mercilessly. I looked up and felt my chest constrict with fear.

"I thought so," Bellum commented, looking down at me. "Silver doesn't hurt you, but it does take away your ability to change. How unfortunate."

"What do you want?" I spat.

"Oh, let's not be coy," he admonished me. "You know exactly what I want."

"I also know you can't have it even if I were willing to give it," I snapped. "You can't get around the ring's magic. You can't break the enchantment."

"You seem very sure of that," Bellum commented. "Do you know something about wizarding marriage rings that I don't?"

"Don't be an idiot," I scoffed. "I didn't even know wizards existed until a few months ago."

"But you learn very quickly," he said. "I know that. I observed you for some time—ever since it became clear that Draco Malfoy was becoming too attached to you and the Dark Lord approved me for your mate. Oh, yes, my dear, you learn very quickly. What have you learned about your ring?"

"Nothing you don't already know," I insisted. "You're wasting your time, Bellum."

"Am I?" he asked softly. "Crucio!"

The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was as if every nerve in my body was on fire. Like every bone was breaking—every muscle, every tendon tearing apart. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't—my jaw locked and the muscles in my throat seemed to have frozen. All that came out was a frantic, high-pitched moan.

And then the pain stopped. I lay still, panting. I bit back a groan and made myself stand up. I faced Bellum directly. I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed by my nakedness. I had a beautiful body and I knew he couldn't touch it. I wanted to taunt him. You might be thinking that this was a dumb move, and you are absolutely right. It was an extremely dumb move. But I was pissed. I hadn't liked it when Draco messed with my head and I didn't like this bastard messing with it, either.

"You know," I said casually, running a hand over my hip. "I was a virgin on my wedding night." A muscle in his cheek began to twitch. "I was saving myself until I found a man good enough for me. I'm used to having the best, Mr. Bellum. And now I do. Draco is all any woman could hope for. Young, handsome, strong. . .virile." Twitch, twitch. His face was going gray. "I'm carrying his child, did you know that? I--"

"CRUCIO!"Bellum roared. "Crucio! Crucio!"

Yeah. Yeah, it was a bad move. I had thought that, having felt it once, it wouldn't be so bad the second time. Or that I would be somewhat prepared for it, at least. No. It was, if possible, even worse the second time. This time, I did scream. I was dimly aware that I was on the ground again, jerking uncontrollably. I had to tell him something—anything—whatever it took to make the pain go away.

"Alright!" I yelled. "Alright, I'll tell you!"

The pain went away.

"I knew you'd come to your senses," Bellum said, suddenly calm again. "So?"

"We—we swore an oath," I said shakily. "An unbreakable oath."

"And the relevance of this is..."

"We swore on the river Styx," I said, thinking quickly. "To undo it, I would have to petition Hades himself."

"How does this help me? That is impossible. Insolent wretch," Bellum snarled, and raised his wand.

"No! No, please wait," I cried desperately. "We found a way in—me and Granger. It's in the Department of Mysteries."

"If you are lying..." Bellum said dangerously. "I can torture you for a week before you go insane. Leglimens."

Images came to my mind before I realized what was happening. I heard the oath I swore and heard Draco's oath in return. I saw Granger's face when she realized where the entrance was. Then I realized what Bellum was up to and pushed him out of my mind. Keeping my thoughts carefully blank, I glared at him.

"Satisfied?"

"Quite," Bellum replied smoothly, and tossed me a bundle of white robes. "We are going to the Ministry."

"I suppose we're just going to walk in there and no one is going to stop us," I remarked, pulling the robes over my head. "Is that what we're doing?"

"Yes. That is exactly what we are doing."

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I was not impressed by the Ministry of Magic. Security was a joke. A sham. A tea party. I don't know what we were so worried about when we were planning how to break in. But then—to be fair, Bellum did kill rather a lot of people before they all ran away screaming. I think we were trying to avoid that.

"Where in the Department of Mysteries?" Bellum demanded.

"I—I don't know," I said. His hand tightened on my arm. "Granger had it all figured out. I just know it's a veiled archway."

"Ah, the Death Chamber...I always wondered..."

Bellum had that deranged, eager look on his face again. I shuddered. I wondered what his deal was. I mean, yes, I am pretty. But why was he so...obsessed? Surely I wasn't that good looking. Maybe he was a virgin. Or maybe he was jilted by the love of his life. Maybe he was gay and wanted desperately to prove to himself that he was straight. Or maybe he was just a raving lunatic.

Who the hell was I kidding? I was the sexiest girl around. Kudos to me.

This train of thought lasted me all the way to the Department of Mysteries. Bellum pushed me through first and I found myself in a circular room surrounded by doors. There must have been at least a dozen.

I hoped—really hoped—Bellum knew which one to take, because I sure as hell didn't. And the sooner we reached the Underworld, the sooner I could turn the tables on dear Ira Bellum. I felt anticipation and anger boil up inside me and pushed it back with effort. Cool head, I told myself. Keep a cool head. Revenge is a dish best served cold and all that.

"This one," Bellum said confidently, opening a door to the right. "I witnessed my father's execution in this room more than fifty years ago."

"Fascinating," I said, trying to sound bored.

"You will be my wife," he snapped. "You might as well get used to the idea."

I closed my mouth on the retort I was longing to make and stared straight ahead. There it was. The archway—and a veil fluttering gently over the entrance. Freedom. Or death. Or a little bit of both. Who knew? Would Hermes be on the other side? I hoped so.

"No worries," he said, appearing by my side. I didn't let my surprise show. "I'm here. I took the liberty of alerting your friends; they're on their way with the Horcruxes and should be here any minute. Quick, get him through the archway."

"Well? Get on with it," I spat, gesturing to the archway.

"Ladies first," Bellum sneered, and shoved me forward.

I took a deep breath and stepped through the archway to find myself on a barren plain. The ground was scattered with bones and excrement. A moment later, Bellum joined me. The first thing I did was knock him flat on his ass. It felt so good to have my magic back. It was like crawling into bed after a long day and snuggling under a thick quilt. I took a moment to revel in the sensation, then bound him with invisible threads of magic while I contemplated the silver cuffs on my wrists. I concentrated and a crack appeared in the metal. And another. And another, until the shackles fell away from my wrists.

"You," I said, turning to Bellum. "Are an idiot."

Bellum went red in the face and looked like he was about to shout something when a hefty projectile hit his head with a dull thunk! and knocked him out cold. I blinked and then laughed when I saw the black helmet lying innocently on the ground next to him.

"I told them just to chuck it inside," Hermes explained, appearing beside me. "I thought you might enjoy that."

"I did," I assured him. "But what can I do with him?"

"Ariadne, you can be so dense sometimes," Hermes said, shaking his head. "Haven't you realized yet? You can do pretty much whatever you want. You have more magic than anyone has had in thousands of years. You just need to learn how to use it."

"Is that why I can't work magic outside of Greece?" I asked. "And—here, I guess."

"Basically," Hermes confirmed. "It's a trade-off. So. What do you want to do with him?"

"I want to take him with us," I said, frowning.

I thought about what I wanted and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I saw the results sitting before me. An action-figure size Bellum contained in a small cage made of bones. Bellum was now awake and yelling furiously, but it sounded more like a sort of outraged squeaking. I laughed. Ah, revenge. So sweet. And so deliciously chilly.

I picked up the helmet and the bracelet, which had fallen out when it hit Bellum. Hermes obligingly took the cage containing Bellum and we set off. The landscape was cold and dark and shadows seemed to swoop around like giant bats. I stayed close to Hermes as he led me confidently onward.

Soon, we came upon a large, leafless tree. Instead of leaves, it had glowing cobwebs dangling from its branches. I stopped and stared up at it, frightened but curious. Hermes tugged my arm and I reluctantly turned away from the tree.

"What was that?" I asked.

"The elm from which false dreams cling," Hermes said grimly. "Come on, it's best not to linger."

We walked for some time. My bare feet were beginning to hurt a little bit from the rough ground. It was completely silent save for my breathing. Even Bellum had shut up. The gloom was oppressive and discouraging—but then, we were in the land of the dead. Or almost to the land of the dead.

"Look," I hissed, seizing Hermes' arm. "What's that up ahead."

"Unburied souls," Hermes said grimly. "It's getting to be quite a problem down here. Only the Old Folk bury their dead with tributes anymore—to pay the Boatman. Most people are buried with something to offer, even if it was unintentional, but some---a growing number—are buried with next to nothing. They can't enter."

"My father—my father was buried with his baptism cross and his wedding band," I said. "Would that be enough?"

"I think so," Hermes said reassuringly. "But it looks like we'll find out in a minute."

In moments we were surrounded by people. Most were spirits, but some were shockingly solid. They begged us to show them the way out. They hadn't died—they had merely stumbled into the Underworld and couldn't enter the land of the dead. I remembered Bellum telling me that he had seen his father executed in the archway's chamber. Had those idiots been 'executing' people by sending them into the Underworld before they were dead?

We pushed our way through the spirits--literally through them--trying to get to the boat. The shades whispered frantically in all different languages, plucking at my sleeves. I answered as many as I could as well as I could. I mean, French, Italian, Spanish, Greek, even Russian--I could handle those. But Chinese? Indian? German? There were thousands of people down there from all over the world. It was heartbreaking.We were about to step into Charon's boat—Hermes' presence was enough for him to waive the fees—when I heard a shout above the whispering and muttering.

"Miss! Miss, please, a moment. Please wait!"

A pale, haggard looking man with shaggy black hair and sunken eyes was pushing through the crowd. He fell to his knees grasped my hands tightly in his own. His hands were deathly cold.

"Please, I know you must have heard this a hundred times already, but I must get back," he begged, imploring me with his eyes. "I have to help my godson—Harry Potter. Please, he needs me. Harry needs me."

"I know Harry Potter," I blurted. "He's my cousin."

"Your--your cousin," the man said blankly. "How--"

"Never mind," I sighed. Suddenly a thought struck me. I showed him the bracelet. "This is one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Do you know how I can destroy it?"

"A Horcrux," the man breathed. "That holds Voldemort's soul?"

"A bit of it," I confirmed. "Do you have any idea how to undo the magic?"

"I don't know," the man said unhappily. "If that's really a Horcrux, then it must be destroyed before Voldemort can be killed. Oh, Harry..."

"Give it to Cerberus," an old, cracked voice interrupted. Charon grinned at me, revealing several missing teeth. "He'll eat anything."

"Will that work?" I asked dubiously.

"Oh, yes," Charon said, bobbing up and down. "Nothing can survive a trip through his bowels."

"He has a point," Hermes said, looking bemused. "I think it'll work."

"What's your name?" I asked the man kneeling before me.

"Sirius Black," he told me. "I beg you—get me out of here. Harry needs me."

"If there's any way I help you, I will," I promised. I looked around at the hopeful souls surrounding me. "All of you."

Hermes helped me into the boat and I found that I was sitting with my back to the opposite shore. I had to watch that poor man's desolate yet painfully hopeful face until the gloom and mist swallowed him up. I shivered. So that's why Potter had wanted to come with me so badly. I felt a brief surge of sympathy both for Potter and his godfather. He must have been devastated. I thought about how desperate Sirius had looked, repeating over and over again that Harry needed him.

Harry needed him.

"Oh, my God," I said, jerking suddenly and nearly tipping over the boat. "He's the key. Sirius is the key."

"Oh, is he?" Hermes said, looking mildly surprised. "Well, I suppose you'd better get him out then." Hermes held up the cage and peered inside, looking Bellum over critically. "Bellum should suffice. His soul for that man's."

"An excellent idea," I said approvingly. "And fitting, too. Little pervert. I hope Hades has some juicy eternal torture for him."

Maybe I am heartless, but I had no qualms whatsoever about handing Bellum over to the god of death. Or maybe he deserved it. You decide. Bellum seemed to think I was a heartless bitch; in fact, he told me so. Several times. I ignored him and turned to see the shore looming in front of us. I heard a low, ominous growling and shivered.

"I'll wait here for you, then, my lord?" Charon asked Hermes, bobbing respectfully.

"Yes," Hermes said simply, and handed me out of the boat. We walked away. "You have the bracelet?"

"Right here."

"Well, there's Cerberus."

"Yeah. I noticed."

"Hard to miss, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"So are you going to do it?"

"Yeah, I'm going to do it. Give me a minute, will you?"

"We're wasting time, Ariadne. Your husband is probably fighting dozens of Death Eaters as we speak."

"Fine," I huffed. I looked at the snarling, three headed dog and then at the bracelet. "Do I just—toss it to him?"

Hermes eyed the enormous dog. "More than a toss, I think."

"Right." I drew my arm back and chucked the bracelet at the middle head as hard as I could. It snapped the bracelet out of the air and swallowed it, looking surprised. Then it started growling again. I turned to Hermes. "Now what?"

"Sing," he suggested. "It worked for Orpheus."

"Sing," I muttered. "Okay. Sure. Here goes, I guess...

"Nani, nani, to moro mou kani, nani..."

Hermes snorted in amusement, but did not interrupt. I was basically singing the Greek version of "go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep little baby". I didn't see what was so funny about it, especially since it worked. Cerberus slowly sank to the ground and we crept carefully by him, singing all the while. At least, I sang. Hermes was useless.

"That was fun," I commented when we were safely past. "Let's never do it again."

"Seconded," Hermes agreed. "Usually people are already dead when I lead them past him. Come on, we'll cut straight through the Field of Asphodels to the Palace."
We hurried through a vast plain of waving white flowers ignoring the faces of small children and other spirits that lingered there. We just plowed ahead until we reached the vast, black marble palace. I hesitated in the doorway. I was about to meet Hades. The god of death. What if—no what-ifs, I told myself firmly. Hermes is with me. I have Apollo's blessing. I'll be fine.

I took a deep breath and walked across the threshold. Hades was there—alone. Persephone was with her mother still. Surprisingly, I felt my fears ease a fraction. Hades' face was dark and stern, but fair. Death was straightforward—Hades wouldn't try to trick me. He didn't have to. Hermes and I knelt before the god and bowed our heads.

"You have returned my helmet, I see," Hades said, flicking a cold glance at Hermes. "Finally."

"I keep telling you, it wasn't me," Hermes said testily. "But here it is. Courtesy of Ariadne. She's very clever. Apollo's favorite, you know."

The helmet flew out of my hands. Hades caught it and inspected it with a frown on his face.

"There is a mortal enchantment on it," he said. "How did this happen?"

"An evil wizard," I explained, "used it to contain a bit of his soul in an attempt to become immortal. I believe he used your helmet to spit in death's eye. Pardon the phrase."

"Really," Hades said dangerously.

"If you lift the enchantment he can be killed," I said hopefully. "I thought, since I brought it to you..."

"Yes, yes," Hades said, nodding. "I can certainly do that. My thanks for returning it to me, Ariadne."

"My pleasure," I said politely, if somewhat untruthfully. "There's just a couple more things..."

I paused, half-expecting him to tell me to join Sisyphus for my insolence.

"Go on," Hades said.

"There is a man on the other side of the Styx," I said. "He's not dead—he shouldn't be there, and he's needed at home. I need to take him back."

"What do you offer in return for his release?" Hades inquired.

"This man's soul," I said, and Hermes held up the bone cage as if displaying a door prize.

"I see," Hades said, leaning forward. I swear I saw his mouth twitch as if he were restraining a smile. "Very neat. Portable."

"Yes, very convenient," I agreed. "He belongs here more than Sirius does, kyrie."

"I quite agree," Hades said. "Sirius is yours. What is your second request?"

"The Unburied Souls," I said after a moment of hesitation. "Kyrie, it's not their fault they weren't buried, or buried without payment. Won't you let them in?"

"What are you willing to give in return?" Hades asked me.

"I don't have anything," I admitted, and the Sybil's words came back to me:

To strike a bargain, you must have something to trade.

"I don't have anything to trade," I whispered.

"Yes, you do," Hades said, much to my surprise. "You have another life inside you. But are you willing to trade it away?"

At first I had no idea what he was talking about—and then it hit me. The baby. A surge of relief so powerful swept through me that I nearly collapsed. I didn't have to have a baby. I could get rid of it. Then I came to my senses. How was it a fair trade if I was glad to give it up? And—Jesus, what kind of person was I? It was for the best, I told myself. You promised to help those people however you could. And you can't have a baby. The very idea is ludicrous. Why condemn those souls to an eternity of waiting so you can keep a baby you never wanted in the first place?

"You can't cheat death," Hades told me gently, as if he were reading my thoughts. "Trust me, child. It will be a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice I am willing to make," I said firmly. "You have a deal."

Hades nodded. "It is done. You may go."

Hermes and I rose and backed away. Once outside, Hermes picked me up and rose into the air.

"This will be faster," he told me, flying back the way we came.

"Why didn't we just do this in the first place?" I asked, annoyed.

"You needed to prepare yourself," Hermes said. "Would you have wanted to face Hades right away?"

No. No, I wouldn't have wanted to. Hades was fair, yes, but he was still the god of death. And he was scary as hell. I was glad to be zooming away as fast as Hermes could go. We zipped over Cerberus' head and over the Styx. We landed among the Unburied Souls, who were crowding around a very sour looking Charon. Sirius rushed up, a look of wild joy on his face. He seized me by the shoulders and pulled me into a rough hug.

"Thank you," he whispered brokenly. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," I said. "Let's go!"

Hermes picked both of us up with one in each arm—hey, he is a god—and flew us back to the entrance. He set us down and smiled at me.

"You're on your own now, kid," he said, and kissed my forehead. "Good luck."

"Thank you, Hermes," I said. "For everything. I couldn't have done it without you."

"And we couldn't have done it without you," he said cryptically, and disappeared.

"Ready?" I asked Sirius. He looked crestfallen. "What's wrong?"

"I've tried going through here," he said dully. "A million times. It doesn't work."

"It will now," I said impatiently. "You have Hades' permission. Now let's go."

I took his hand and stepped through the archway, pulling him after me. We emerged in the same empty chamber. I blinked in surprise. Where were Draco and the others? Where were the Death Eaters? How long had I been at Bellum's anyway? Could the fight still be at Hogwarts?

"I don't know where everyone is," I said, looking around. "There was a fight at Hogwarts, but they must have been here to throw in the Horcruxes...did they go back?"

"If there was a fight, they would have," Sirius said confidently. "Can you Apparate?"

"I'm not a witch," I said. "Not exactly."

"You'll have to hold on to me, then," he said, leading the way out of the room and drawing his wand. He illuminated the tip and stared at it for a moment with tears in his eyes. "It feels so good to do magic again. To be alive again." Then he shook himself. "Come on, we'll have to get outside to Apparate."

We headed for the door and Sirius stumbled, just barely catching himself. I rushed to his side and caught his arm, looking him over for signs of an injury or—something.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said, looking around. "I tripped over something--"

"Mistress Ari!" a voice squeaked, and suddenly Cinders appeared. She was clutching a length of shimmery, flowing fabric. "You is back!"

"Cinders? What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Cinders is waiting for you, Mistress," she replied. "Master Draco is telling me to stay and bring you back to Malfoy Manor. Is great battle at Hogwarts. Master Draco is fighting with Phoenixes."

"Oh," I said, looking at Sirius. "Well, now we know where they are."

"Draco?" Sirius asked. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," I said a little irritably. "Draco Malfoy. My husband."

"Your husband? Then you're a--"

"No, I'm not," I snapped. "And neither is he. He's been helping the Order of the Phoenix for weeks."

"How long has it been since I—fell? How old is Harry?"

"My husband is twenty-three," I said stiffly. "I don't know how old Potter is."

"Eight years," Sirius breathed, looking dizzy. "Or seven. Jesus."

"Are we going, or what?" I asked impatiently.

"Yes, we is going now, Mistress," Cinders squeaked, and reached for my hand.

I snatched my hand away hastily. "No, Cinders. I'm going to Hogwarts. I have to help."

"But Mistress--"

"Get to Hogwarts," I told her. "Tell Draco I'm alright. And--"

"Tell Harry Sirius is coming," Sirius said over his shoulder, heading for the door.

I followed him hastily and we ran through the deserted hallway to an elevator that took us to the ground floor. He led the way out onto the street and held a hand out to me. I gripped it firmly and we were gone. I was almost used to the sensation by now—if you can get used to being shoved through a rubber straw.

We ran up the road to the castle. Sirius suddenly changed into an enormous black dog and loped ahead. An Animagus, I thought. Huh. I changed too and quickly caught up to him. The smell of magic was overwhelming. I could see flashes of light and hear shouts and howls of pain. I ran faster, overtaking Sirius. I was built for speed; he wasn't. He looked more like a bear than a dog.

I blew through the gates and attacked the first Death Eater I saw—they were all wearing skull masks, making them easy to pick out. Not a good move. This particular Death Eater was—had been—fighting with Granger. He wasn't anymore, though. I left my kill and looked around for a new victim. I didn't worry about making new werewolves now; this was the only way I could fight right now.

I caught a glimpse of Sirius, human now and fighting with a sallow-faced, black haired witch who looked like she had seen a ghost. Well, I suppose she had. I dodged a curse sent my way and lunged at my attacker, knocking him over and burying my muzzle in his throat. The wolf inside me was going nuts—the smell of blood was electrifying.

I went a little insane for a few minutes, though thankfully I retained enough awareness to know who was on my side. Then, suddenly, I realized something was wrong with me. I changed back to human and narrowly avoided being trampled by a centaur. My belly was cramping and I could feel wetness trickling down my thighs. What? But I was pregnant, how could I have my—oh. It wasn't my period. It was a miscarriage. I bit my teeth against the pain and crawled behind a tree.

"Artemis," I gasped. "Help me."

"I'm here," she said. "I'm here. Stand up."

"Thank you," I said gratefully as she took the pain away.

"There," she said, pointing to a fallen woman's bow. "The Amazons came. Use her bow—their arrows are enchanted."

"Thank you," I said again.

I looked up at the tree I was hiding behind. I could reach the first branch if I jumped. I backed up into the forest—away from the fighting—and got a running start. I swung myself into the tree and held my hand out. The bow and quiver flew to my hand. I climbed higher and found a spot where I could see the open field below. Only then did I start shooting. No sense in sitting out in the open like a big, white target, after all.

I saw plenty of faces I knew—including Genevieve Dolohov, who was finishing off her husband with a look of triumph on her face. Kingsley Shacklebolt took down a wizard trying to get at Genevieve. Huh. Genevieve was a traitor? I had a flashback to the Christmas ball and seeing Genevieve flirting with Kingsley. Maybe it wasn't flirting. But this wasn't the time to wonder about it.

I shot until I ran out of arrows, then watched carefully, making sure the other Amazons' arrows reached their targets and setting people's clothes on fire. I felt sick. I could still taste blood in my mouth. But that wasn't making me sick. What was making me sick was that I didn't mind it.

Then I saw it. Him. Voldemort. Practically right underneath me. He almost made me fall off my perch. He was—terrifying. Inhuman. He was bald and gray, with long, slender, pale hands. His eyes were bright red with slit pupils. His nose was flat with slit nostrils, like a snake's. He knelt, cradling an enormous snake's head in his lap. Potter stood before him, glaring murderously.

"Fight me," Potter growled. "I know about your Horcruxes. They're all destroyed. Every last one."

"Nagini was no Horcrux," Voldemort hissed softly.

"No," Potter said coldly. "But she's dead."

"Dead like your parents," Voldemort agreed. "Dead like your dear Sirius Black."

"Not just yet," Sirius interrupted, stepping forward. Potter went pale and looked like he might faint. "I was merely—indisposed."

"Well, I suppose I shall have to remedy that," Voldemort snarled, rising quickly and gracefully to his feet and lifting his wand in one motion.

"NO!" Potter yelled, lunging in front of Sirius just as I knocked Voldemort sideways with a huge burst of magic. I set Voldemort's robes on fire and scrambled down from my branch. I dropped out of the tree as a wolf and leaped to place myself next to Potter. I had gone through a lot of trouble to get Sirius out of the Underworld, and I was not going to let some creepy corpse send him right back.

Things happened very quickly after that. Voldemort raised his wand once more and I sent it flying with another wave of magic. Sirius and Potter raised their wands at the same time and shouted some spell—it sounded suspiciously like 'abra kadabra' but I was sure that couldn't be it—and twin jets of green light shot straight into Voldemort's chest. He flew backward, hit a tree, and fell to the ground. He lay still.

Everything was still.

Everyone stopped fighting and stared at the figure lying beneath the tree. His resemblance to a corpse was now even more striking because he was, in fact, a corpse. After a moment's hesitation, I slunk forward and sniffed the body. Definitely dead. I turned back to see Potter staring at the quickly disintegrating form of Lord Voldemort with his face blank from shock. I changed back.

"He's dead," I said softly. "You did it. He's gone."

"He's gone," Harry repeated dumbly. "He's gone."

"Yes," Sirius said, gripping his god-son's shoulder. "I'm so proud of you, Harry."

"Sirius!" Harry cried, as if seeing him for the first time. "You're alive!"

"Yes, thanks to your cousin," Sirius laughed. "Although I don't really understand--"

"It's a long story," we said together, and grinned reluctantly at each other.

"A little help, if you don't mind!" a woman with bright blue hair yelled, dueling with a Death Eater. "They're escaping!"

"Right," Sirius said. "Let's go."

"I'll just—go this way," I said lamely as they dashed off together. "Back in the tree."

"Ari!" Draco ran toward me and grabbed me by the shoulders. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at Malfoy Manor? Are you hurt? You're bleeding."

"I was helping defeat the most evil wizard of all time, I didn't feel like waiting around and worrying for you, no I'm not hurt, and I'm bleeding because--" I hesitated. "Because I just lost the baby."

"But you're alright?" Draco asked, looking me over. "You're sure?"

"I'm fine," I assured him. "But Draco, we need to talk--"

"Later," he said. "Get up to the castle and help Madame Pomfrey in the Infirmary."

"Draco--"

"Later, Ari," he said brusquely. "I need to see to things here."

"Draco it's really--"

"Whatever it is, it can wait," he said, already jogging away. "Just go!"

"Oh, boy," I muttered.

This was going to suck.

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I'm sorry, Amy! That's why I replied to your review saying I hope you don't hate me. o(