Chapter Twenty-Six

It's Been A Long While, Old Friend

Ron, Neville, Susan and Sue silently made their way down the second floor hallway toward Harry's room, two people lining up on either side of the door, Neville Susan and Sue looking to Ron to see what their next move should be. Ron sent forth a tiny patronus wasp to slip inside and return to file a report. The wasp disappeared through the doorway, and, after several minutes of waiting, the others began to look questioningly at their leader. He just shrugged, not knowing himself why his patronus did not return. He sent another one, this time to report back immediately. Again, after disappearing through the doorway, it simply did not return.

Ron conjured a privacy bubble and surrounded the four of them. "What do you reckon?" he asked, looking at the other three.

"Null bubble," Sue said dejectedly. "I can't believe he can cast one. and affix it to objects no less. He must be warding the entire room with it."

"Do you have to be dark to cast one?" Ron asked.

Sue shook her head. "No, just really powerful."

"Should we maybe just knock?" Susan asked tentatively. "Seems like it could be the simplest way to do this."

"Who knows if he's got other wards or booby-traps in there," Sue said, agreeing. "We should just try the simple and direct approach and knock."

"Agreed," Ron said, promptly extinguishing the privacy bubble, permitting him to turn around and knock on the door.

No answer.

"Hmm," Sue said, tapping her foot on the ground. "Seems rather anti-climactic if he's gone out. Jeez, we came all this way, and nothing."

"Maybe not nothing," said Neville.

"What do you mean?"

Neville hesitated for a moment, even going so far as to lower his head in contemplation for a moment before looking each of them in the eyes and saying, "Let's break in."

"Seriously?" Sue asked, sounding rather dubious at the prospect of forcing their way into a dangerous situation. "seems a bit reckless, don't you think?"

"Yeah well, we're Gryffindors," Ron said, agreeing with Neville and shrugging.

"But you're supposed to be his dorm mates!" Susan exclaimed, scandalized by the prospect of invading Harry's privacy.

"Might be good to test his defenses," Sue said, pondering the issue, tapping her chin thoughtfully with one finger. "You know, see what he's made of, and all that."

"Then it's agreed," said Neville, drawing his wand and holding it in a quasi-dueling grip.

The others followed suit, all of them turning their wands to the door.

"Hold on," said Ron, gesturing to Neville and Susan. "Go slip into the next room and test the defenses he has on that side. He's probably got the door warded to the hilt, but that doesn't mean that all four walls are."

Susan and Neville nodded and headed down the hall to enter the next room.

"So how are we going to do this?" Sue asked, absently casting the unlocking charm to see what effect it would have. Unsurprisingly, it did not unlock the door. Ron then tested the lock just to make sure it was in fact working. From there, they silently agreed that, if Harry were truly using a null bubble, their best bet would be to use non-magical means of entry. As such, Sue pulled out her .357 and demolished the door handle with three rounds, each of which disappeared immediately after impact. She then made short shrift of the hinges, while Ron gently levitated the door, careful not to let it fall into the room. They were operating under the assumption that the null bubble probably encompassed the entire room, but stopped just short of the doorway. Thus, Ron and Sue were hesitant to cast magic that would run afoul the threshold.

"Got it," Ron said, laying the door flat on the ground and cancelling the levitation spell so that he could join Sue and look into the room to examine it before walking in.

To their surprise, they discovered that they couldn't see anything, because there was a layer of fog obscuring their view.

"Er," Ron said, staring at it dumbfounded. "Sue?"

She simply responded by saying, "I have no bloody clue."

"I thought the null bubble cancelled magic," Ron persisted.

"It does."

Ron then pointed sharply to the fog charm. "That, Ms. Lee, is bloody magic. How?"

She simply shrugged and shook her head, indicating that she didn't have the slightest clue how one could operate magic inside a null bubble.

"What do you reckon?" Ron asked finally. "Do we go in?"

"Only if you want a painful death," Sue replied, still trying to figure out the puzzle before her.

"Painful death?" Ron repeated. "How do you figure?"

Sue just looked at Ron before rolling her eyes. "Do you think he set up the fog charm so that he could hide tea and biscuits? He's probably got charmed machetes or buzz saws or something ready to eviscerate you the second you walk in uninvited."

"That doesn't sound very pretty," Ron said, still eyeing the fog charm. He tried casting a few charms to dispel it, but nothing worked. They could see the magic visibly deteriorate about one inch from the fog.

"Holy fuck," Sue breathed, it suddenly dawning on her how Harry had managed the bubble. "He hollowed it out!"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, still casting charms, looking for a weak point.

Sue pointed at the fog charm. "He cast the null field and then hollowed it out. Crap, that sounds ludicrous. Never mind the whole creating a ward out of the spell. Ron, this is way beyond anything we've studied. The only reference I ever heard about this kind of magic usage was in a text summarizing the Fidelius. And even then..." She trailed off, her mind still awash with new ideas.

"So you're saying that instead of creating a bubble, he created something that more closely resembles a shell."

sue nodded. "It's strange. I mean, in theory you could create shapes other than spheres. It's just that spheres are the easiest because they form themselves naturally. I can't even begin to imagine how you would go about controlling your magic so that you could create a shape like this. I'm willing to bet that the field isn't spherical at all, but more rectangular, probably matching the room's dimensions perfectly. Your patronus never had a chance to even find a spot to sneak in. The room's probably warded to the hilt."

"Could still fire a bullet into it though," Ron mused. "He's not thinking with muggle weaponry in mind."

"Yeah, of course the null field might strip away the enchantments. It's unclear because bullets travel so fast. I don't know if the bullet would spend enough time inside the field for the vacuum to have a significant impact on the magic."

"I wasn't seriously contemplating firing into an unknown region with potential allies," Ron said. "But your words do give me an idea. What if I shot a large enough dose of magic hard enough and fast enough to carry it through the null field. Given that it's so thin, could it have a chance of making it to the other side?"

Sue merely responded by saying, "I have no idea how fast magic diffuses. We have no experimental data on null fields, and have done little to advance theories in it, since we could only produce one for a few seconds. The project was dropped."

In response to her words, he said, "Well, I guess it's time to try then."

He concentrated for a moment, preparing himself for the discharge, and then shot a thick white beam of energy across the threshold of the room. It visibly fizzled out to a point which just seemed to barely touch the fog before disappearing into it. Ron concentrated on pushing more energy through, and the beam thickened in response. Sue joined him by casting a ring of magic around the beam and sending it off, hoping it would act as a buffer. It improved their results marginally. Sue continued discharging magic as hard and fast as she could, while Ron stepped up his own beam, until his arm began to shake and beads of sweat dripped down his face. After a few moments of intense concentration, Ron broke, the spell fizzling out and his body going slack as he staggered backward and leaned against the wall for support, absently brushing sweat from his brow. Sue was in a similar condition, panting and bending over to lean against the door frame to clear the dizziness that was assaulting her.

"Damn, that was brutal," she managed.

When they both regained their composure, they looked up and saw that they had punched a hole through the fog charm that was about two inches in diameter. "Good stuff," Ron said. "It at least got us somewhere."

They both crowded around the hole and peered through. to their dismay, they found they could see very little. A tightly woven network of chains seemed to be beyond the fog charm, obscuring their view into the interior of the room. Leaning backward, Ron voiced the question, "What the hell was that?"

"That," Sue said, now more perturbed than ever, "was a wire mesh designed to either keep something trapped inside or to keep something out." After a moment, she added, "It's a good thing you didn't fire into the room. The bullet may have ricocheted off that thing and bounced back in our direction. Especially if there's a repulsion charm on it."

Ron whistled. "Damn. There's just no way for us to get in there."

"Not unless we're planning to use an RPG, and even then..." Sue shrugged, leaving the question hanging. For all either of them knew, the mesh was magically reinforced to stand up to that kind of firepower, or, again, a repulsion charm might bat it back to the sender before it exploded.

"Well, bugger that," Ron finally said, holstering his wand. "Care for a bite to eat?"

"Would love to," Sue replied.

The pair collected Neville and Susan, who had had even less success than they themselves had, and the quartet headed downstairs to grab a bite to eat and keep a lookout for the return of their fated hero.

-----------------

"So how long's it going to take for you to take out this Voldemort guy?" Minnie asked, munching contentedly away on a spinach and grilled tofu sandwich.

"It's really just a matter of finding him at this point. And his snake, of course," Harry said, mango smoothie in one hand, a piece of fried chicken in the other.

"Right, the other soul bit."

Harry nodded.

Harry and Minnie were sitting in a muggle cafe just a few blocks from the Leaky Cauldron. It was the late afternoon and neither felt particularly like doing much, especially after the Wormtail incident the previous day. And given that the wizarding world, Diagon Alley in particular, was neither safe nor cheery, they decided to keep to the muggle side of things.

"You probably want to do it quickly though," Minnie said. "I mean, he's probably running around killing people."

"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed. "I suppose that's as good a reason to hurry as any. Truth is though, I don't know where to find him. Or my friends for that matter."

"Well, you've painted a pretty big sign over your head," Minnie pointed out. "Everyone at the Cauldron knows you, and word's probably spread like wildfire."

"If Wormtail were any indication," Harry said, agreeing again. "True, true." He sighed, and leaned back, idly levitating crumbs off his plate and flicking them in the general direction of a child at a nearby table. The kid's eyes widened as he saw the crumbs floating in midair, and Harry just smiled and winked while the kid pulled on his mother's sleeve to get her attention. Promptly, Harry dropped the crumbs so that when the kid's mother did turn her attention to him, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"You're terrible!" Minnie said, laughing and slapping Harry on the arm playfully.

He just shrugged and smiled goofily, noting that the kid was now watching them in a surreptitious fashion. Doing a quick check that nobody else was looking, Harry conjured a flower right on top of the table, willing his magic to force it to materialize slowly, bringing it to life the way replicators and transporters in those old Star Trek TV series tended to make things appear.

The kid goggled as though he had just seen Santa Claus.

"Mom!" he said, eyes still wide and now pulling hard on his mother's sleeve, his voice now audible as he was practically yelling due to his excitement.

"Oh, you're going to get him in trouble," Minnie said, with mock-admonishment.

"It's good for him," Harry returned, not concerned in the slightest. "Maybe he'll grow up having a greater appreciation for the unknown. Muggles are trained to be far too narrow-minded."

"I'm not sure that this is the right strategy," Minnie said dubiously.

The mother was now reprimanding the boy.

"What's say we take off."

"Sure," Minnie agreed, wiping mustard off her lips and standing. Harry threw down a twenty pound note and followed suit, waving to the kid as they walked by, the kid just staring between their retreating forms and the white rose that continued to sit idly on their table.

Once outside the cafe, Harry picked Minnie up and spun her around, causing her to shout out in surprised delight and, before they had stopped, he apparated them to just inside the Leaky Cauldron, their bodies still pressed together, still spinning to their own internal rhythm, their heartbeats palpitating in unison as they slowed, Minnie coming down from the spin, her feet gently regaining ground. There they stood, looking into one another's eyes for what seemed like an age, oblivious to the Death Eaters and the phoenix soldiers that had been waiting there for them.

Harry leaned in close, his heart rate still high, his muscles tense from the anxiety. Looking for signs of acceptance, for that feeling of connectedness, Harry leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against Minnie's, still searching, still wondering whether he was destroying the peace they shared together. He pulled back, his eyes still searching for some sign of emotion. Minnie seemed frozen, as though she had somehow been turned to stone, despite the warmth he still felt emanating from her. She then smiled a happy, 'took you long enough' sort of smile, which Harry returned.

"Avada kedavra."

In a flash, a dozen men and women stood on either side of the pub, wands raised, that one lone curse crossing the distance between the Death Eaters and Harry Potter. Harry just sighed, and drew his wand, and summoned a pint of butterbeer to intercept the curse. The pint exploded in a fit of glass shards and drops of the tasty beverage, the sound of the glass fragments crashing against the floor and raising the tension in the room.

It was a strange sight, Harry decided. There were twenty Death Eaters in total, some of them disillusioned and hiding at the edges of the wall, one in plain clothing and pretending to be an innocent patron. A handful of others seemed to simply appear, decked out in full Death Eater regalia. He could sense the darkness within them; he could feel their Dark Marks pulsing on their arms, symbols of their allegiance, and he understood now how silly it was to think that Dumbledore could have ever been blind to the presence of a Death Eater. Their marks lit them up like Christmas trees to anyone sensitive enough to feel the flows of magic. It was even easier to spot disillusionment, and invisibility cloaks were a joke, since they were concentrated beacons of magical energy.

All in all, Harry was really unimpressed.

More interesting was the fact that Ronald Weasley was present, and not just the impetuous, red-headed Gryffindor, but three unlikely allies, all of whom were slinking about near the bar, where Tom, the barkeep, stood frozen at the sight of his bar-turned-battlefield. With Ron stood Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones and some Ravenclaw whose name Harry couldn't quite pin down. Judging from how they were trying to slink into the shadows and that their wands were trained on the Death Eaters, Harry could only assume that they were, at least tangentially, on his side.

"Are you guys just going to stand there or do you actually intend to attack me?" Harry asked, his voice sounding both innocent and incredibly scary as he turned to face the Death Eaters. "I don't exactly have all day, you know."

Harry's words seemed to have the intended effect. Whatever interest the Death Eaters might have had for Ron and his cadre of friends was promptly extinguished as each of them momentarily lived out their own little fantasies of killing Harry Potter. As such, they focused their will on that particular task, each of them dreaming of the rewards they would receive for being the one who could lay title to the murderer of the Boy-Who-Lived. It probably wasn't the smartest move in the world to start taunting people who were trying to kill you. Certainly it didn't work for Sirius Black back in the Department of Mysteries, and, despite Harry's superior magical prowess, twenty Death Eaters of unknown skill were a lot to handle.

Still, Harry had had experiences fighting against tougher odds, and he had a few tricks up his sleeve. Before a single Death Eater could utter another curse, Harry executed three formidable spells simultaneously. First, he animated three tables and a chair, and deployed them to cordon off Ron and his friends. While they may have looked like they knew what they were doing, Harry wasn't prepared to take chances, and simply assumed that they were Hogwarts drop outs who found themselves in a bad place at a bad time. It didn't help that he noticed that Neville was missing a hand. Second, he transformed the floor of the Leaky Cauldron into a frictionless sheet of ice that was four inches thick, taking a moment to chill it below zero degrees Celsius, below minus ten, and minus twenty and minus thirty, and continuing to chill it all the way until it reached minus eighty degrees. Thirdly, he conjured a flock of birds, and sent them fluttering aimlessly at the Death Eaters.

And that was only the beginning. Soon, the world would become acutely aware of the wrath of the Chosen One.

Half the Death Eaters fell over instantly as they instinctively dodged the robins and blue jays, unable to keep their balance on the slippery surface. Harry knew that, for all intents and purposes, they would be out of commission for at least a minute, as many of them cried in pain and shock as they planted their hands on the floor, which were promptly seared by the deep cold of the ice. The other Death Eaters cottoning on to the predicament they were in, stood stock still and instead chose to fire off a round of heavy curses, expecting to simply overwhelm Harry before dealing with what was otherwise an impressive transfiguration.

The purple light of four Mudblood curses, the blood red light of three Evisceration curses, the amber light of one Cruciatus, and the black light of two disembowelment curses all converged on Harry's position. Calmly, he simply said, "Protago," and erected the most powerful shield on the planet, which easily absorbed each and every curse, with the exception of the Cruciatus, which he simply ignored, despite the fact that it hit him dead on.

"Is that all?" he asked curiously, quirking an eyebrow at the stunned Death Eaters. In response, Harry fired a single cutting curse, and even, as a token gesture of generosity, annunciated the incantation for the benefit of the Death Eater who he targeted. "Diffindo." Still with their mobility severely hampered, the Death Eater simply raised a shield, which was probably the stupidest thing in the world he could do. Like a bullet, the fierce golden energy of Harry's spell punched clean through the hapless Death Eater's shield, and continued onward, slicing through his torso, breaking the skin, severing a rib, cleaving his spleen in half and tearing through his duodenum, before severing his spinal column and cutting clean through the other side, so that the Death Eater collapsed to the ground, paralyzed, fatally wounded and the partly digested chicken sandwich he had for lunch spilling onto the frozen floor.

From there, the cutting curse simply continued onward, impacting against the skull of a second Death Eater who was in the process of getting to her feet. The cutting curse sheared through her skull, just above her lips, cut her brain in half and continued out the other side, effectively slicing her head into two parts with surgical precision, so that her brain fluids sloshed about and splashed across the floor, greyish tendrils of brain matter twitching convulsively as electrochemical signals continued to be dispatched for the next several seconds. The cutting curse continued onward until it hit a barstool, which it reduced to rubble before coming to a complete stop.

"Oh my God," one of the Death Eaters said, staring at the carnage Harry managed to inflict with a single, fourth year spell. "We're all going to die."

And so it went. The remaining nine Death Eaters standing switched to killing curses only, having already witnessed the strength of Harry's shield and not wanting to chance letting him fire off another curse.

"Avada kedavra."

"Avada kedavra."

"Avada kedavra."

"Avada kedavra."

"Avada kedavra."

"Avada kedavra."

"Avada kedavra."

"Avada kedavra."

"Avada kedavra."

The Leaky Cauldron was lit with the eerie glow of the killing curse. Harry, still unfazed, levitated every single loose, inanimate object in the pub and swirled them around at high speed in yet another ludicrous show of power, deploying two tables to absorb the killing curses sent his way, while he summoned a butter knife from the bar at high speed, so that it buried itself in the back of a Death Eater's head. The blade hit her with such force that it buried itself deep into her skull, piercing the occipital lobe and instantly blinding her as she staggered about drunkenly, her brain slowly oxidizing and causing central nerve death. Harry had paid her little mind though, and had instead moved on to dispatching two Death Eaters with a complex quasi-transfiguration, quasi-apparation that left their heads fused together, causing subdural hemridging that was, unsurprisingly, killing them slowly and painfully. A mournful moan escaped their joined mouths as they flailed about in a macabre dance, one of their arms accidentally whacking a Death Eater in the face and bringing the two and a half of them down onto the ground.

Harry simultaneously sent a summoning charm and a banishing charm at a Death Eater, while, conjuring a hissing snake at his feet to divert his attention. Both the summoning charm and the banishing charm hit home. The effect was to cause his legs to be sent flying backwards while his torso was drawn forward. The force of the spells ripped his body in half, and Harry used the mangled torso to absorb still more killing curses that were being sent his way, now with greater intensity and desperation. Absently, Harry noted the look of mingled pain and fear on the dismembered Death Eater's face, his white mask hanging askew, tears in his eyes.

"YOU BASTARD!" a Death Eater cried out, having taken a moment to survey the mounting carnage. "AVADA KEDAVRA."

-----------------

Ronald Weasley was not the brightest bulb in the batch, and he knew it. He was a Gryffindor, not a Ravenclaw. Still, even he understood the magnitude of raw magical power and skill needed to do what Harry was doing. He, Sue, Neville and Susan had watched surreptitiously as Death Eaters slowly filtered into the pub, some obscured by charms, others pretending to be patrons. Counting at least fifteen, he and his friends were deeply dismayed. They hadn't bothered putting on their vests when they headed outside, and only Sue had had the presence of mind of bringing a pistol along. Worse, she'd brought the .357, which had a rate of one bullet per second, which meant they could only take down at most two Death Eaters before they would have to brace themselves for return fire. Moreover, there were few hiding places and little maneuverability for dealing with the killing curse, and fifteen or so Death Eaters were a lot to deal with. Even if they waited for Harry, they weren't sure what condition he was in to fight, or whether he was even on their side anymore.

It wasn't really looking like they had good odds. Still, Ron was hardly prepared to simply leave his old friend in the lurch, and none of his comrades were prepared to ditch him. As such, they decided to simply wait and see, and hope that an opportunity presented itself for inflicting maximum damage. Maybe they would get lucky.

It all seemed to happen so swiftly, that Ron could hardly believe his eyes. Harry apparated right into the entryway of the Leaky Cauldron, the muggle girl in his arms, pretty much serving himself up on a platter for the Dark Lord's minions. Him and his muggle girlfriend, both. Ron fought down the urge to roll his eyes and chose to silently berate his friend for his sheer stupidity. Sure, he was a Gryffindor, but this was a bit much.

"Come on," Ron whispered to the others, all of them standing and backing up. They slowly oozed their way into the shadows, hoping to blend in and afford themselves some cover. And then Harry had deflected that killing curse, with such ease, that Ron was rather impressed. Still, he could hardly do that for a dozen killing curses, could he?

"On the count of three," Ron whispered, aiming his wand at the Death Eaters. For a moment, he thought he saw Harry lock eyes with him before Harry continued his sweeping gaze of the pub. It was then that Ron got his first dose of the rich power behind those emerald eyes, and he started to wonder whether Harry was really in any danger at all.

Before he or any of his friends had had time to take aim, Harry had made a nominal swish of his wand, though nothing seemed to come out. Ron, who was paying close attention, however, saw the brief glow of the wand tip and realized that Harry had executed invisible spells, something not a single PA member had been able to accomplish. More importantly, he had executed three spells, and had done so simultaneously. And not just three namby pamby little first year spells or even second year spells, oh no. Harry did some serious magic, and Ron had to bite down on an instinctive feeling of jealousy that had welled up inside of him. Don't think about that, he told himself. Focus. Lives are at stake here.

In a flash, Ron and his three associates found themselves barricaded by three tables and a chair, all of which were skittering about on their wooden legs like spiders. One of them even seemed to turn in Ron's direction and smirk at him, which he found distinctly unnerving. The sheet of ice was downright brilliant though, and he heard Sue gasp with awe, especially when she realized he had made the ice so cold that even to touch it would cause searing pain. And so, with a transfiguration and a conjuration of birds, he had swiftly and efficiently immobilized half his foes.

Still, the other ten were no slouches and immediately fired off an incredible volley of spells, which Harry casually blocked. What was more disturbing was the cruciatus which Harry hardly even seemed to notice.

And then there was the cutting curse. Any doubt that Ron had that Harry had raw magical power in spades met a quick death. He hadn't known it was possible to charge a cutting curse with enough force to punch through a fully formed magical shield plus two adults and then some. And yet there it was. resigning himself to having been excluded from the battle and being forced to watch, Ron instead summoned his butterbeer and put his wand away.

-----------------

"Reducto," Harry said in a rather bored tone. The curse hit yet another Death Eater, this one scrambling pitifully away on his hands and knees. So powerful was it, that the Death Eater disappeared into a spray of blood and guts and bone fragments with not a single piece larger than his index finger.

"Arrgh!" a Death Eater cried out, wiping gore from his mask and firing off yet another killing curse.

"Don't you people ever learn?" Harry asked wonderingly. "Do yourselves a favour and just apparate away already." Harry floated out of the way of the curse and conjured a giant razor whip, which he wandlessly sent flailing about, inflicting innumerable, severe wounds on many of the Death Eaters, some only half-heartedly attempting to dodge or block the torture instrument. One of them stupidly put up his hand to protect his face, only to have his hand lopped off at the wrist and have his face slashed anyway. His wand clattered uselessly to the ground as the Death Eater collapsed, moaning. He pressed the bleeding stump to the ice in the failing hope that the cold would staunch the blood flow. Unbidden, tears dripped down the dying man's face. "Please," he begged to no one in particular. "I have kids." It appeared, however, that nobody was listening, for a moment later, the whip came down on his head and decapitated him. His head rolled about on the floor, tears still staining his face, blood and tendons dribbling out of the open hole.

"Crucio!"

"Crucio!"

A pair of Death Eaters cried out as they scrambled to their feet. Harry didn't even bother trying to dodge. Instead, he just let the sensation of pain overtake him for a moment before giving the Death Eaters a withering glance. "You call that a pain curse?" he asked rhetorically. "That's not a pain curse. I'll show you a pain curse." Harry aimed his wand and said, "Crucio." The amber light streaked across the pub with terrible accuracy. Horrified, the first Death Eater grabbed his comrade and threw him in the way of Harry's curse so that the curse hit the second Death Eater directly in the face. The force of the spell flipped the Death Eater backwards and caused his eyeballs to explode out of his head in a spray of blood before he fell to the ground. The first Death Eater, now only more horrified at the ferocity of Harry's curse, simply dropped his wand and began whimpering. Two more killing curses came from the side and Harry, in an uncharacteristic act of pity, summoned the whimpering Death Eater so that his body absorbed both the curses.

Harry, deciding he had enough of wandlessly floating himself about and dispensing his wrath in a quasi-demonic, quasi-God-like fashion, returned to the entrance of the pub, where Minnie had taken a seat and contented herself to watching the battle unfold. Occasionally, she would wince or emit choice words like, "Ew!" or, "gross!"

There were now four Death Eaters left, all of them in varying states of pain, and suffering from various wounds. By now, they had had the presence of mind to use a Traction Charm to keep from slipping and sliding all over the place and had taken a moment to regroup and make one final stand against Harry Potter, who idly wondered what Voldemort did to inspire the kind of loyalty that bordered on lunacy.

"So, you're the four intrepid Death Eaters that are planning to kill me," Harry mused, twirling his wand, a twinkle in his emerald eyes. He glanced at the mutilated forms of their comrades. "Good luck to you."

"You're nothing special, Potter," one of them spat angrily, his wand trembling with his anger.

Harry recognized that voice. It had certain qualities that had made it unique, and having heard it so many times during his life when his back had been turned had given him a special kind of appreciation for recognizing it. So often before, it had made his skin crawl to be in the same room as the haughty pureblood, but, now, looking at his emaciated form, his body even thinner than usual, Harry could drum up nothing more than a vague sort of pity for him. "Draco," Harry said, taking care to keep his voice neutral.

"Yeah, it's me, Potter," said the Malfoy heir. He was even so bold as to strip his mask off so that Harry could gaze upon his visage one last time. "Your number's finally come up. Nice show, but it'll take more than that to defeat a Slytherin."

"Right," Harry agreed, hardly even paying attention to the false bravado. Instead, he turned his mind back to that dark night atop the Astronomy Tower. It seemed so long ago. Harry remembered the strained expression on Albus Dumbledore's face as he sank slowly yet inexorably toward the stone floor, his back propped against the ledge, Malfoy's shadow creeping up over him as the Death Eater stood backlit from the torches burning in the hallway. Harry, his mind half-focused on that terrible night, turned his piercing eyes to Malfoy and quietly said, "Albus Dumbledore offered you a second chance, Draco."

Draco was not one to be taken by surprise very often. He had cultivated an ability to always look like he was in control of a situation. It was a hard earned trait that had served him well during his time in Slytherin, and it had carried over somewhat to the last several months of his life - even after he came to learn just what being in the service of the Dark Lord truly meant. Still, Harry's words held a great deal of meaning, so much so that he was taken aback, which showed in the momentary change in his expression. Then, just as quickly, as though sensing where Harry was going, his expression of astonishment and fear transformed into restrained anger. "Shut up," he said, though Harry could tell that there was something in his voice that was something other than anger. It had a pleading quality to it, as though Draco did not want to face whatever it was that Harry had to say.

But Harry persisted anyway. "In honour of his memory, I am going to extend to you-"

Draco tried to cut him off. "Shut up, I said!"

If Harry experienced discomfiture from Draco's vehemence, he did not show it. Instead, he just continued, as though he needed to say his peace, as though his life depended on it, or, at least, his conscience. As such, he simply continued speaking as though Draco hadn't ordered him to desist. "-extend to you the same courtesy-"

Draco, it seemed, had enough, clearly not capable of facing the choice that Harry was about to give him. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Green light exploded from Draco's wand and rushed toward Harry.

Harry had seen that light come upon him so often now, it hardly seemed like a big deal at all. As such, he simply continued speaking and chose to step out of the way of the curse. Later, he supposed that the other Death eaters stood by and watched out of morbid curiosity to see how the drama would unfold without interference. Even Ron and his friends had stopped what they were doing to watch. Harry said, "-the same courtesy. Draco, leave the Death Eaters and return to the light."

Glass exploded behind Harry where the curse impacted with the front of the store. He was dimly aware of the shallow cuts that some of the fragments were making on his back as they pelted him. Absently, he wandlessly vanished them and healed the wounds, doing the same for Minnie.

Once the debris from the glass settled, silence ensuing butt for the occasional passage of cars, Draco took control of himself and spoke in a measured tone. "So long as joining the light means joining you, Harry Potter, I will never do it."

Pain flashed across Harry's face, an image of an eleven year old Draco Malfoy turning his nose up at Ronald Weasley while extending his hand in friendship at the Boy-Who-Lived, briefly cutting across his mind's eye. "So be it," Harry said. In the same measured tone that Malfoy had just used, Harry incanted, "Avada kedavra."

Whether it was because Draco was shocked by the Chosen One using the killing curse, or whether it was because the curse travelled at unusually high speed, or whether it was because Draco decided to join the one side that was neither Light nor Dark, no one ever knew. All that was known is that he did not budge an inch as the spell came toward him. As such, he died on his feet, by Harry Potter's hand.

Draco's death seemed to awaken the three remaining Death Eaters from their trance. In a flash, they all pointed their wands at Harry and incanted the killing curse simultaneously. However, with no discernible motion of his wand, Harry summoned a dozen bottles of firewhisky stacked on a ledge behind the bar careening into the backs of the Death Eaters' heads, causing their spells to go wide as glass shattered about them, giving them concussions and cutting them where the falling shards of glass hit their bodies, and drenching them in one hundred fifty one proof alcohol. For a brief moment, Harry took pity on them, knowing their time had come to an end. Still, he did not hesitate in pointing his wand at them and articulating in a clear voice, "Incendio."

All three Death Eaters burst into flames from the alcohol, all of them shrieking and falling over themselves to try and rub out the flames. Harry however, was going to have none of that, so he simply immobilized them, silenced them and created a slight draft to keep them downwind as their flesh sizzled and burned and turned to ash before the surviving patrons still in the pub, all of whom now sat frozen in awe and fear of the Boy-Who-Lived. With a long, sweeping stroke of his wand, Harry vanished all the bodies and the blood and broken glass and smashed up chairs. In another stroke, he replaced many of the lost pieces of furniture with wholly conjured objects, effectively restoring the pub to its once pristine self. Once having completed these tasks, he turned his attention to the four soldiers at the opposite end of the room.

"It's good to see you, Ron," Harry said, coming up to him and slapping him on the back. "And you too Neville," he continued, looking into the eyes of his once clumsy, squib-like dorm mate, determinedly oblivious to the stupefaction plastered across all their faces.

"Harry?" Ron asked, still flabbergasted from the display of power he had just seen.

Harry waved one hand in front of his best friend and said. "Well, yes, Ron. That would be the name my parents gave me. You know, before old voldy knocked them off."

"Old Voldy?" Sue asked, mystified, her mind still reeling from the sight of a mass transfiguration.

"Yeah, you know, the big bad Dark Lord. The one who's been making my life shitty?" Harry just looked at them as though they were all insane. "Jeez, where've you guys been for the last six months?"

"I believe psychologists call it shock," Minnie said, coming up next to Harry and clasping one of his hands in her own. "It's nice to meet you," she said, extending her other hand to Ron, who numbly took it.

"You're really back," Ron said, staring at Harry as though he were seeing him for the first time. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from his brain he finally grinned, a sparkle in his blue eyes. "You're really back, you bloody, sodding, son of a bitch."

And with that, Ron clapped Harry on the back, still grinning, and walked alongside him as they took the stairs two at a time to the second floor, the other three giving the pub one final, shuddering look before following after them.

-----------------

"So you're really not going to tell us where've you been?" Susan asked, not bothering to conceal the hurt in her voice.

Harry leaned back in his conjured, squashy leather armchair and glanced out the window at the rolling clouds that spread out across the city to the horizon somewhere out there towards infinity, much of it occluded by the grey concrete of high-rises that seemed both protuberant and monolithic.

"But why not?" Neville asked carefully, just a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Harry thought back to all that had happened, the trials and the tortures. He thought back to that very first day, the look in Jack's eyes when Harry hit him with the stunner, Stu picking him up off the alley floor, the sight of the multi-coloured sky, a testament to the fragility and the fracture that characterized that place of hard rules. He thought of sitting in that barren back room, acclimatizing to the taste of stale urine in the air, meeting Kittie for the first time, meeting Marv, the feelings of isolation that dogged him during those days, the confusions over his own feelings, the push of the prophecy, the constant fear, his feelings of his own inadequacy. He thought of his first murder, and his second and his third. He thought of the look in Lily Evans Black's face as she managed to intercept the killing curse, the relief that she had done it in the process of sweeping away the resonances of the excruciating pain she had endured just moments earlier. He wasn't the same person that he was back at the end of the school year. He was being changed, tested. He hadn't been sure whether things just happened to him, or whether he pushed things to happen to him. All the same, he was no longer Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. He was Harry James Potter, the Chosen One. How could he explain that to them? He remembered Kittie's words just days ago. It's like you never had a chance to breathe.

As such, he just smiled placidly in a Dumbledore sort of way and said, "It doesn't matter anymore."

Minnie came and stood next to him, having nabbed a shawl from the corner and pulling it about her bare arms. She took a seat on the armrest and held Harry's hand in her own. Her expression had taken on that serious look that reminded Harry of how his mother had looked as she stood to face Lord Voldemort in the Janis Thickey ward. It was both regal and daunting.

"It doesn't matter anymore?" Ron asked incredulously, the tight control over his emotions that he had cultivated over the last several months breaking. "What the bloody hell do you mean it doesn't matter anymore?"

"I mean exactly that," Harry replied calmly. "There are other things to devote our time towards. My past experiences are not one of them. It will suffice to say for the moment that much of what I resolved to do at Dumbledore's funeral has been accomplished."

"You mean you don't want to tell us," Sue said. "Which is fine to me. I never knew you anyway, but Ron's your best friend."

Harry just smiled. "yes, I believe he is. Which is why he'll permit me my privacy in this matter. Won't you Ron?" Harry asked, turning his intense, emerald eyes to the Commander.

Ron nodded. "Fair enough," he conceded. "Just tell me one thing."

"Shoot."

"Where are your glasses?" Ron asked.

Harry blinked, surprised by what seemed like a rather frivolous thing to focus on. He supposed that Ron was still trying to reconcile the acute differences between the creature that sat before him, and his memory of a teen who never quite managed to be comfortable in whatever role he had been cast.

Finally, Harry spoke, his voice calm, but cold enough to ward off any further inquiry. "I was tortured for a time. In order to keep me awake and functional for questioning, I was fed a multitude of nutrient and restorative potions. They seemed to have fixed my near-sightedness."

The thought that Harry had been tortured apparently hadn't crossed the minds of his interrogators, because they all tensed at hearing him use the word, and, in light of it, Ron couldn't help but ask in a strained voice, "How?"

Harry, recognizing that his long-time friend needed the answer to that question said simply, "Cruciatus. It was on and off for about two days. Harry cast his mind back to those dark days, when he had suffered so deeply, he had lost control of his bodily functions. "It wasn't pleasant, but it was necessary."

A look of understanding crossed Ron's features, and Harry realized with a tinge of sadness and relief that Ron too had suffered that particular curse sometime since their last meeting. We've all changed, I imagine, Harry thought. It was bound to happen. He was just thankful that it had made his friend stronger for it.

"So what now?" Harry asked. "I do not think it's a coincidence that you were at the Leaky Cauldron. I'm also curious as to the arrangement of your new friends," Harry said, giving a pointed look to Sue and Susan and Neville. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

They glanced over at one another and then, coming to a silent agreement, turned to Harry and said, "Can you assure us of some privacy?"

Harry smiled. "Of course. Believe me, there's few places in the world safer than my room. But if you'd like, I can cast the Fidelius."

"The Fidelius!" Sue exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. "But how!"

Harry looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Er, well, we've been looking into it. A little." She sat back down, cheeks tinged pink from her embarrassment at having burst out like that.

Harry chose to ignore it and turned back to Ron. "I have no doubt the Dark Lord is seeking a way into this room as we speak. Once his soldiers fail to return and word of their swift demise reaches his ears, he will most likely send a second cadre of assassins, this one operating under stealth to dispatch or incapacitate me. Most likely the former. Once they fail, he will come personally. That is how he operated with Amelia. She repelled multiple attacks, and, as such, drew his attention personally. No doubt Snape and others will have reported that, while I have demonstrated an uncanny ability to survive insurmountable odds, I have always done so through luck and through the assistance of others. Certainly without the Order's interference at the DOM, none of us would have survived."

"So you're saying he'll come to kill you himself?" Susan asked quizzically. "How exactly is that a good thing?"

"It's gotta happen some time, doesn't it?" Harry replied casually. "Better now than later."

"You sound like you're confident you'll win," observed Sue.

Harry just shrugged. "I've come to accept that it'll happen the way it happens. Now, onto other things. Tell me, what have you been up to?"

"We've organized a covert operation to break down the Dark Lord's forces," Ron explained. "We're taking great care to track the movements of all his Death Eaters, gather information, sow the seeds of discontent and distrust amongst themselves. In the end, we hope to clear a path to the Dark Lord so that one of us, presumably you, will have a clear shot at him. Once he's been handled, we'll have all the information we need to launch a swift and efficient strike against the remaining Death Eaters, delivering their entire organization a lethal blow. One from which they will never recover."

"Impressive," he said. "I can probably assist you with that as well."

"If the scene downstairs was any indication," Sue piped in excitedly. "Do you know how hard it is to conjure that many distinct objects? Or to erect a null bubble? And how'd you go about casting invisible spells?"

Harry smiled and spread out his hands in a gesture of submission. "Trade secrets."

Sue just shook her head. "We're going to have to get you to the lab. There are just too many questions I have."

"We'll see," Harry said, his body language suggesting that he wasn't particularly excited about becoming a lab rat for over-eager Ravenclaws. "So what's this about a place called Technoparc?"

"Ah, that is the Dark Lord's stronghold. We're not sure when it happened. He took control of a muggle town that was situated upon a bed of strontium ninety. It's a radioactive metal that has strong magical properties. Specifically, it's good for absorbing magical energy and releasing it slowly. The Dark Lord charged the deposits with magic and spelled them to charge a series of wards that he has erected, including a powerful muggle confundus charm, that leaves many of the inhabitants of the town in a chronic state of delerium. They're left to fend for themselves mostly, though we believe they are also being used as fodder for the Death Eaters' sport, as well as food for the vampires and the werewolves. The corpses are most likely recycled as inferi, thus adding to the city's already formidable protections."

"So if we were to storm Technoparc," Harry mused, leaning back and letting Minnie slide onto his lap, Bono sliding up onto the arm rest where she sat a moment ago and curling around his master, the four occupants suddenly looking horrified at the eight foot long basilisk that was making itself known. Harry just chose to remain oblivious to their distress and continued speaking as if nothing were out of the ordinary, "You would need an effective way of creating fire to destroy the inferi, as well as a strong supply of silver. You would also want the attack to take place during the day."

"We suspect the city is charmed to permit the vampires to walk freely during the day."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How in the world is that possible?"

"They've constructed a physical shield over the city. They call it necro-tempered glass, and it's been spelled to be shatterproof."

"Has the city been made unplottable?" Harry asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Can we get to it?"

Ron nodded. "It appeared on our radar the day after Azkaban fell. No one really knows why. We're guessing it's just another show of the Dark Lord's power. The fact that he's coming out in the open and still not being challenged indicates that he has garnered as much support or power as the Ministry."

"Which is true," Harry mused. "Especially with the fall of the prison."

"That is a basilisk, isn't it?" Sue asked tentatively, her eyes darting from Bono to Harry, who just nodded. "Maybe this is a stupid question," Sue continued, clearing her throat. "Aren't we all in mortal peril?"

"Only if you piss him off," Harry said. "Basilisks don't have to kill with their gaze if they don't want to. It would actually be rather inconvenient for them if they couldn't control their power. It would be something of a friendless world for them, wouldn't it?"

"Er, yeah," Sue said, still a bit nervous. "And it's not going to kill us, is it?"

"His name's Bono," Minnie supplied helpfully, leaning over and petting Bono's head. "He's really a softy when you get to know him."

That did very little to comfort the Ravenclaw.

"Are you suggesting we storm Technoparc?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "I have no clue, to tell you the truth. You guys have all the knowledge on the subject. I don't even know how many of you there are or what your capabilities are. Nice work with the door, by the way."

Ron just snorted. "Cause we got so far with it."

"You got to the third layer. That's more than I expected."

"Despite the information we've gotten, there are still several unknowns. Like the number of vampires and werewolves he has with him. We don't know if he's found a way to block portkeys within the city. We're betting anti-apparation is out, though it may not extend to his Death Eaters, putting us at a severe disadvantage."

"Can we draw him out?" Harry asked. "I would be happier duelling him in a place where I knew he couldn't up and escape simply by apparating or using a portkey."

"Do null fields prevent portkey and apparation travel?" Sue asked.

"It prevents portkeys, but not apparation."

"How's that possible?" she asked.

Harry again shrugged, not having a very good answer for her. "Magical beings like humans have an inner magical core that draws on an apparently endless wellspring of energy. There are certain things you can do with a tap like that. Apparation, is apparently one of them."

"And the enchantments on portkeys should be eradicated by the null field," Sue said, puzzling out the issue.

Harry nodded. "Theoretically, you could even use your inner tap to flood a null field and thus extinguish it."

Ron again snorted. "Not bloody likely. It took Sue and me combined to just manage that little coin-sized hole in your fog charm. And that was through what, a one inch thick null field?"

Harry just smiled benignly. "Of course, of course. It's all just theoretical anyway." Harry decided to switch gears. There was one question that had been burning at the tip of his tongue since they started the discussion, and, he wanted to get an answer to it. "I noticed Hermione's not with you guys. She back at the hideout?"

Immediately, Harry felt the temperature drop ten degrees in the room, Ron's muscles tensing. "Damn," Harry swore, his forehead creasing with sorrow. "When did it happen?"

None of them spoke for a moment. Eventually, Neville asked, "When did what happen, Harry?"

"Er, when did the Death Eaters get her?" he said, starting to realize that something was amiss. The animosity he was sensing from the quartet seemed to be tinged with something else. Only after a moment of intense scrutiny and a bit of peripheral legilimancy did Harry come to understand that it was betrayal. He felt Minnie squeeze his hand in support, probably having felt something similar coming off them.

"Ron, what happened," Harry asked, though even to his own voice he sounded hard and commanding.

"She calls herself the Dark One," Ron said flatly, fixing his blue eyes to Harry's green ones, with such force that Harry wondered if he were trying to cause himself pain by looking into his best friend's eyes. "She's trying to start a muggle-born revolution by killing off purebloods."

"Oh," Harry said, not having expected that response at all. "And does that mean she's trying to kill you off too?"

Ron nodded tightly. "Already tried."

Harry pursed his lips, memories of Hermione helping him master the summoning charm in his fourth year playing out in his mind for a brief moment. "I'm sorry," Harry said finally.

"Me too."

They sat in silence together for a minute, both mourning the demise of the trio, of their oldest and dearest friend.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Ron said. "If we see her, we'll shoot first and ask questions later."

"Is it possible she'll join Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Ron considered the question and when he spoke, he chose his words carefully. "It is a possibility. I believe we've seen that the Dark Lord's primary concern is with accruing power. That happens to be Hermione's goal as well. If the Dark Lord believes she would be more beneficial even in light of the backlash from his more conservative followers, then I do not doubt he would seek to recruit her. If he comes to understand her correctly, I believe his knowledge of the dark arts will be too great an enticement for her to pass up."

"I see," Harry said. "I guess we'd better make sure she doesn't cross paths with Voldemort."

"If she does, then it will make it that much easier to find her," Sue replied. "It'll put her in Technoparc, along with our other enemies."

"But that would only serve to fortify Technoparc that much more," Susan said. "How would that help?"

"Easy," Sue said. "We've been constructing a doomsday weapon. If all else fails, we're going to target Technoparc with a enough explosives to render the entire area useless for generations to come."

"That's hardly the wizarding way," Harry pointed out. "Interesting though. Does she know about you guys?"

Ron again took a moment to consider the question before asking. "Partly, I suppose. She knows we were at Crabbe Manor in Crabbe's private study."

"Neville also added, "And she knew I was pretending to be Goyle Senior."

Harry assimilated this information with the same collected calm that had stolen over him in the past days. "Your organization is in a rather precarious position."

Ron pursed his lips, and Harry noted that his companions were doing similar things to indicate the bitter reality they were being forced to swallow. "I hadn't even considered it," Ron finally said.

"None of us did," Sue added consolingly.

"If a union between Voldemort and Hermione were a matter of random chance, then I would say the odds are slim your opposition to Voldemort will be uncovered," Harry said, puzzling out their dilemma. "However, I'm not entirely convinced that the matter will be left to that. I suspect that Dark will attract Dark. She will be drawn to him, either to compete or to cooperate. She may see Lord Voldemort as an adversary against which to prove herself, or she may see him as a means to gather information on the Dark Arts swiftly and efficiently."

"It's just as likely she could target us for those same reasons," Susan said. "I mean, Ron basically duelled her to a draw."

Harry just shook his head. "No, all practitioners of the Dark Arts are afflicted with the same fatal flaw. They experience nothing but disdain for the Light Arts. A persistent sense of unrest plagues all Dark Arts practitioners; it is that which drives them to crave more of whatever it is that fuels their insecurities. The Light Arts require exactly the opposite. They require you to achieve peace with yourself, to achieve an internal calm that dark artists cannot comprehend on a fundamental level. That is what makes the practice of the two areas so diametrically opposed and inimical to one another."

"If the Dark Lord discovers us," Ron said, moving through the various stages of the war games they were playing, "then it means our time is coming to an end. If they invade, we will be forced to flee."

"We most likely need to force the confrontation on our own terms," Sue said, looking at the issue tactically. "assuming we're confident we can win."

"We've been trained heavily in the area of stealth and duelling, but we have little experience for the latter," Neville added.

"The magitek weaponry should carry us a long way though. I imagine that even with poor odds, we can pick an arena that will afford us effective use of some of our weapons. We could probably mow down half the Death Eaters without breaking a sweat."

"Well, it's more the werewolves and vampires that are of a concern. We just don't have that much information on their numbers."

Harry silently sighed, listening to his former classmates discuss strategy. Having no experience with them, he had little to offer. "Perhaps we should adjourn this affair until we get to HQ. I'm most curious to find out about what you have been doing."

"Of course, of course," Ron said, drawing out a small vial of a clear liquid that Harry instantly recognized as veritassurum. He didn't have the heart to tell them he was immune to it, so instead permitted them to administer it to him and then answer their questions as truthfully as possible, deftly evading the ones that he felt were too personal. Once satisfied, he gathered his things and then apparated himself and Minnie and Bono to the coordinates they specified. From there, the group made their way to Hogwarts.

-----------------

Lord Voldemort stood at the front desk of a large lobby to a nice hotel inside Technoparc. Light filtered in through the large front window, the sight of muggles milling about occasionally outside catching his idle attention as the inner circle of his Death Eaters congregated before him. It was a bit of a dare to do it, but he really didn't want to have the Granger girl's presence remain unknown. He could dispatch her in the future if she proved irritating, but he doubted it. In fact, he was rather warming up to the idea that mudbloods could have equality in the new utopia he was envisioning. He had even started looking upon her as a sort of surrogate daughter. The youth that surrounded him was flimsy in terms of skill. They were weak-minded an undisciplined, and they needed direction. Hermione was the answer to his woes on many levels. It would just be a matter of breaking in his inner circle members, or, quite possibly, sending the dissenters on dangerous missions from which they had no hope of returning alive.

It was not long before the inner circle was arrayed before him. There stood Snape, Dolohov, the two Lestrange brothers and Bellatrix, as well as the Malfoy matriarch. Lord Voldemort inwardly frowned, Nagini lifting her head from where she was pooled around her master's feet to gaze upon the faithful. He hadn't realized just how badly his numbers had dropped. Lucius was a bit of a disappointment, of course, having been bested by the girl. Knot had been murdered not two weeks ago at the Leaky Cauldron. Macnair and Mulciber were old news. Goyle he had mind-raped into insanity. Crabbe the girl had dispatched, along with other key players back in January. And he had been cleverly tricked out of his servant Wormtail. All the better that I induct a new member to our ranks. He just hoped he wouldn't lose more than one existing servant during the evening.

"Good evening," Lord Voldemort said, his voice both soft and reverberant. "I have gathered you here to witness the induction of a new member to our ranks. Some of you have had confrontations with her in the past. She has been a schoolmate of Draco Malfoy, if I understand things correctly." Lord Voldemort paused to gaze expectantly at the faces of his six loyal followers. "Three days ago, she entered Technoparc seeking to duel me, which I obliged. I confess I was suitably impressed with her skill and power, and she, quite naturally, was suitably impressed with mine. As such, she has elected to join us, to be the scourge of muggle filth everywhere in exchange for tutelage in the Dark Arts. Please permit me to introduce Hermione Granger. Child, come forth."

Hermione stepped out of the Notice-Me-Not field she had erected and stood next to Voldemort. She maintained a regal posture, her eyes locking with each of the Death Eaters, silently daring to challenge her presence at the right hand of the Dark Lord. She could tell that some of them had no clue who she was, like Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers. Others, including Snape and Narcissa caught on pretty quick, while Dolohov merely looked thoughtful, as if searching his memory to figure out why it was that she looked so familiar. Narcissa and Snape maintained their usual impassive masks, even though Hermione knew that Snape at least, must have been seething inside to see a Gryffindor - especially a mudblooded one - take a post near to his master.

It was Dolohov who finally broke the silence, apparently realizing where it was that he had seen her before. "You're the Potter brat's girlfriend," he spat venomously, his demeanor and the expression in his eyes betraying his feelings, despite the mask.

Hermione merely nodded and left his comment at that, not bothering to respond. What was there to say, really? If attacks on her character were going to come, they would come in the next few minutes. Lord Voldemort declared, like a minister presiding over a marriage ceremony, "Should any of you object, do so now or forever hold your tongue."

At first, nobody spoke. Eventually, Snape broke the silence by asking, "My Lord, are we certain that she is not working for our enemies? Her defection comes on the heel of Potter's arrival."

"Nonsense, Severus," said Lord Voldemort. "Her activities have been documented for the last several months. She is the one who assaulted the guests at Crabbe Manor in January."

"She's a mudblood," cried out Dolohov. "We can't seriously permit her among us. Certainly you can't grant her access to the inner circle. My Lord, it is preposterous."

"Do please explain why, Antonin," prompted Voldemort.

"Well, she's a mudblood," he replied, simply reiterating his earlier statement as though it were enough.

"And?"

Dolohov hesitated for a moment, wondering if there were something he were missing before he went on, "Well, she can't be nearly that powerful, can she? She's hardly out of Hogwarts!"

"Technically I never graduated," she said, affirming Dolohov's words. "Of course, Snape can verify that."

"See! See! Even she understands-" Dolohov stopped before he got too far in his ranting. His Slytherin edge seemed to assert itself for all the emotion drained out of his face and he merely said, "Forgive me, my Lord. I should take care to think before I speak."

"Indeed," said Lord Voldemort, nodding his approval. "If I may, I would like to point out that you have made two distinct propositions to her entry into my cadre of elite soldiers. The first is that she is a mudblood, as you so eloquently described it. The second is that she possesses inferior magical abilities. Is that correct?"

"Yes, my Lord," replied Dolohov.

"I am afraid I cannot say much regarding the claim of her heritage. As many of you are aware, heritage is a rather important point in our policies. It is so for a few reasons. The most salient of these, is that pureblooded witches and wizards tend to be more powerful on average. That is a simple reiteration of Antonin's second point, so I will leave it aside. The next most salient characteristic of purebloods that distinguishes them from the muggle-born witch and wizard is that they carry the blood of muggles in their veins. Muggles are inferior as a whole, and so, it has stood as a foundation that the children of muggles, regardless of their magical talent, are inferior as well. The blood that courses through their veins is of an inferior quality when compared to the blood that courses through the veins of the pureblooded witch and wizard. Some of you may be aware that I myself am a half-blood." Lord Voldemort paused and made sure to lock gazes with each of his six inner circle members. "It is a fact that Mr. Potter brought to your attention during the incident at the DOM. Bella was forthright enough to query me on it shortly thereafter. I will tell you the same thing I told her. The magical half of my blood is carried down from the noble line of Slytherin. The other half stems from pure muggle filth. How is it that I can stand here and preach pureblood sovereignty when I myself am a half-blood? the answer is simple. Through magic, I have undertaken to rid myself of my muggle taint. I have stripped myself of that which has made me weak, and, in so purifying my blood, I have grown strong. I have become the most powerful and feared wizard on the planet. Miss Granger has already taken the first steps to embarking on a road of purification, in which she has begun ridding herself of the muggle origins of her blood. I put before you, this simple test. Pit her strengths against yours, and let us see who rises the victor. Behold a prodigy of dark transformations." Lord Voldemort stopped speaking and waited for any of his members to make a petition against her induction.

Eventually, Dolohov stepped forward and bowed before his master. "My Lord, if I may. I would like to test her before we permit her entry. Just as a matter for my own peace of mind, if it pleases you."

"Of course, of course," said Lord Voldemort, clapping his hands together and making way for an impromptu duel. "Come forward, Hermione."

She took a lazy step in front of Voldemort and eyed Dolohov critically. He moved into a standard dueling posture and readied his wand.

"Begin," commanded Voldemort.

In a flash, Dolohov was on the ground writhing, his wand dropped, his hands clutching his head as he moaned and rolled back and forth as if to snuff out invisible flames. Hermione simply made a show of looking at her nails as though she were bored of the entire procedure. Couldn't I have at least been pitted against an occlumans? she thought. Dolohov began to whimper and drool and, through the stream of invectives coming out of his mouth, all the inner circle members could clearly hear him begging for mercy.

Hermione glanced over at the Dark Lord, looking for some sort of cue as to when she should stop, but he made no move one way or the other. Drawing out her wand, she summoned Dolohov's wand and then, deciding that she was feeling less than charitable to the person that had cursed her so long ago at the DOM, she added the cruciatus to the mix, his whimpers suddenly transforming into shrieks as the amber light connected with his body.

"That is enough," said Lord Voldemort, clapping his hands together and snuffing out the magic she was using. Dolohov lay motionless for the most part, occasionally twitching, his mind lost in a sea of broken traumas, blood spilling out his ears and mouth. He had been rendered completely deaf.

"Anyone else?" Hermione asked, looking around at the five remaining members. Briefly, she locked gazes with Narcissa, and wished that it had been she who challenged Hermione. Mostly because Hermione would have counted it a true victory if she defeated the dreaded Colonel, and also because she knew there was a good chance she would lose. Of them all, Bellatrix, Snape and Narcissa were the elite. Hermione wondered if she were strong enough to be counted amongst them.

"I trust she has made a suitable impression." Voldemort took a step forward so that he was next to her once again. Turning to look down upon her, he commanded, "Now, tell us everything you know about our enemies."

At this, Hermione smiled a cold, cruel smile. "A number of Hogwarts students have come together to undermine your organization. When I assaulted Crabbe Manor, one of them, Neville Longbottom, was polyjuiced to look like Goyle Senior. Moreover, during the duel, when I had sufficiently dealt with Longbottom and was just about to execute him three more Hogwarts students blew a hole through the ceiling and dropped down. They included Katie Bell, Terry Boot and Ronald Weasley. The last of them demonstrated superior dueling abilities, including the ability to cast multiple patroni and a shield capable of deflecting the unforgiveables. They were also equipped with portkeys and muggle hand guns. I also hit one of them with the exsanguination curse dead on, and she shrugged it off. I can only imagine they were outfitted with magically resistant armour of some kind." Hermione turned to the Dark Lord and nodded, indicating that she was done her story.

He picked up where she left off. "I trust you all understand the significance of her story. Some of the problems that we have been encountering over the last several months may be attributed to this underground movement. Clearly they have done their work in terms of espionage and reconnaissance. The hole they formed when dropping down into the dining hall led into Crabbe's private study, where key incriminating documents were discovered. It is now my belief that these documents were planted to sow the seeds of distrust amongst Death Eaters and to make me question your loyalties." Lord Voldemort paused to let his words sink in. He wanted to make sure that they understood the significance of the threat they were facing. While he didn't expect school children to take up the mantel of war, or that they would form plans artful enough to confound him, he did understand that much of their power came from the fact that he never would have regarded schoolchildren to have posed a threat in the first place. "Their anonymity, which has been their secret weapon, has now been stripped from them."

"Do we know where they are located?" asked Bellatrix, the prospect of slaughtering kids making her eyes twinkle with anticipation.

Lord Voldemort smiled. "I do have some ideas. However, I do not think it wise to engage them in their own territory. No, we will instead draw them out dispatch them in a more public setting."

Lord Voldemort then went on to outline his plan for luring the Phoenix soldiers into a trap.

-----------------

June 1st.

Throughout the remainder of April and May, things had been unusually quiet. The Dark Lord had staged a full blown strike against the Leaky Cauldron after Harry had dispatched the soldiers he had sent to kill him. As such, the Leaky Cauldron entrance to Diagon Alley was utterly destroyed, driving the once thriving market into further ruin. With London's commercial center in rapid decline, Gringotts announced that they were rolling back their British operations and recalling forty percent of outstanding loans to local businesses, citing war-time provisions located in their treaties with humans. Many of the local businesses had already shut down, and, consequently, the goblins were repossessing wizarding homes and other assets. The Ministry, in response, implemented an emergency financial relief fund for businesses that were still in operation, on the condition that they provide a prospectus that showed their business would be viable with the influx of aid money.

"I suppose it's not a surprise," said Ron, looking down at the Death Eater recruit who was currently under the effects of the draft of living death. "I mean, it was only a matter of time before they stormed the Ministry. Especially now that Azkaban has been destroyed."

Harry remained silent, and instead chose to focus his attention on the Hogwarts lake shining under the fiery light of the sun. They had uncovered a secret operation by the Death Eaters to execute an assault on the Ministry, presumably to take control of the building, kill their major opposition, including the Minister himself, and cause mayhem generally. Harry supposed he should have been feeling anxious or excited or tense. Instead, it seemed as though a vast, impenetrable calm had descended over him, as though he were dying and he found the experience to be peaceful. As though he realized he had no regrets in his life, or, at least, the ones he did have he had already made peace with. I'm just glad I got to see Hogwarts one more time, he thought.

"Seems a bit odd though doesn't it?" Harry asked as Ron prompted him for an opinion.

"Of course it's odd," Ron replied. "It's a bloody trap."

"Oh." Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, assuming there was something to say at all. "Does that mean we should stay away?"

"Of course not," Ron said casually. "It just means we're going to go in prepared. I have to admit I didn't expect this of him, but, in retrospect, it makes perfect sense. He knows nothing about us, except that we're basically untrained students and that our only saving grace thus far has been our ability to hide in the shadows. As far as he's concerned, we're probably rubbish at duelling, and that there's probably not very many of us. I'm sure he's confident that he can take us in an open firefight. And doing so in the Ministry will mean causing lots of damage to the power center of his opposition."

"But we'll have the aurors on our side," Harry said. "Why in the world would he want to engage us there?"

"I'm sure he'll have done something to neutralize them, and he'll know we won't call on them. How can we? I mean, we'd have no idea if any of them were Death Eater spies. It wouldn't be strategically sound. No, we'll go in and take them on. That is, if you think you can handle the Dark Lord." Ron turned an expectant gaze to his best friend.

"Yeah, I reckon I can," replied Harry. "Funny though. I never figured it would turn out like this."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, closing up his map and leaning against the desk he had been working on.

"You, me, Hermione." Harry waved a hand at the maps and memos that adorned the walls of their old Charms classroom. "All of this. Hell, even the battle that's coming up. For awhile, I seriously figured that it would take a human sacrifice to stop old Voldy. You know, like with my parents. I figured we'd all be caught in some fool's trap by him, we'd all be tied up and sitting around like dead ducks with Death Eaters cackling evilly around us, in the dead of night, that we'd be swept out from Hogwarts under Dumbledore's nose. Like the end of fourth year. I figured maybe you'd both sacrifice your lives or something and then that would be it. He would screw up again, leaving me in the center of the mess of dead bodies and collapsing buildings."

Ron remained silent, sensing that, despite Harry's pause, he was not finished. Sure enough he continued, "Instead, it's like we've grown up. We're doing this on our own terms, with our eyes wide open. It's kind of anti-climactic."

Ron nodded. "I think I understand what you've mean. We've always been pawns in one way or another. But now we've taken control, and it's changed things."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "We've changed."

"For the better, I think."

"Yeah, for the better." Harry stood up straight and gazed intently at his friend of seven years, his first one ever. He extended one hand, which Ron took and squeezed. They were toy soldiers in a game whose completion was twenty years overdue.

"God's speed," Harry said solemnly.

"Indeed," he replied. "It's been a long while, old friend."

And so, there they stood, two soldiers in a war. One a leader; one a hero. It would not be long now.

A/N: hi all!

Some of you have suggested that the scene breaks and the time and space jumping have been disorienting. I've switched my scene break markers from lone asterisks to groups of dashes. Hopefully the emphasis will provide some clarity. Also, I admit that my stories in general tend to have recurring flaws. Critiquers often tell me that my stories are hard to follow, have obscurities and obfuscating elements. I have tried my best to minimize this shortcoming, and have reduced the number of breaks generally. (Well, that's not exactly true, as chapter twenty-seven is riddled with scene breaks, but there it's for a special reason). If it helps, all the events in this chapter can be conceived of as occurring on the same day.

For this story, I've tended to keep a buffer of about thirty thousand words between what I'm posting and what I'm writing, because it allows me to keep from backing myself into a corner. Often I'll have to jump back a chapter or two to modify a detail in order to maintain consistency, as I am often switching ideas on the fly. That, I can now say, is no longer an issue. The story is complete, save for a few administrative details. There's only twenty thousand words remaining, and the bulk of it is in the next chapter, which is the longest one to date. The only reason I'm not posting it right away, is simply to give you all an opportunity to comment. I don't believe I've mentioned it, but your feed back has been influential in shaping the events of this story. I had initially intended to make this a Harry/Ginny fic, but, clearly, in light of your responses, I altered the trajectory of the story to make it Harry/Minnie. I also intended to not write in Harry's misadventures in the alternate reality, but again, some of you asked for it. That, of course, tipped the story so that it's a lot more Harry-centric, which some of you also wanted. I think I've been rather sparing with my author's notes, and, in light of the looming conclusion, I thought I would take a moment to highlight how much I appreciate the time you've taken to stick with it this far and to take the time to communicate your thoughts about it.

That's all for now.