A/N This is the new longest chapter! And it is my way of showing all of you how thankful I am for your continued support and encouragement. We have multiple perspectives, longer perspectives, and one perspective that has been entirely unexplored up to this point. Happy Thanksgiving and enjoy!

Aurion carefully snuck through the small halls of the Burrow, trying to make as little noise as possible. In his hands, he held Ginny's gold-wrapped Christmas present. He had already delivered Neville and Luna's. The letters from Hermione and her brothers were balanced on top. He tiptoed up the narrow staircase, testing each step before putting his weight on it. He had Apparated into the living room because, according to Hermione, no one would be near enough to hear him. Moonlight streamed through the tiny windows, illuminating his sharp features. He was silent and left the air undisturbed. He heard a loud snoring on the other side of one door and he paused when it stopped abruptly. When it resumed, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief and continued. He reached Ginny's door and eased it open slowly, wincing when the hinges squeaked slightly. Ginny didn't stir and he moved silently into the room, shutting the door behind him. He placed the present carefully on the nightstand next to her bed, making sure nothing would fall.

He disappeared with a faint pop, the noise startling Ginny from her sleep and she looked around the room. Ginny's eyes fell on the present on her nightstand and she swung her legs off the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes wearily. She moved it from the nightstand to her lap, jostling the letters. She picked them up off the floor, examining them tiredly. Both of them were blank on the front and she wasn't sure who they were from. The seal wasn't familiar to her but she slid her thumb under it, breaking the seal on the first letter.

Ginny,

We miss you like crazy and we're really sorry we left you with everyone else. Hermione had us make this special for you (Happy Christmas) and we could hardly refuse. We hope you love it. Love you, sis. Hopefully, we'll see you soon.

Love,

Fred and George

Ginny smiled, clutching the letter to her chest. She missed her brothers more than she thought she would and it was wonderful to hear from them. Ginny set the letter aside, picking up the one she assumed was from Hermione and breaking the seal.

Happy Christmas, Gin. I'm sorry I haven't been in contact much, but due to the circumstances, it's a bit difficult. I designed this for you to complete your 'evil look' as you deemed it just under a year ago. Fred and George made it. You'll need it before summer. You'll know when you need it. I have some news for you, too. By the time you get this, I plan to have proposed to Bella. You're invited to the wedding (obviously) and since I know you'll insist on being my maid of honor I figured I'd just tell you there's no one else I'd give the role to. I hope you're making it through all right and if everything goes as planned, I'll see you in a few months.

Take care,

Hermione

Ginny's smile widened as she looked at the present on her lap. She knew what it was, there was only one possibility. She tore open the gold paper, gasping at the contents of the package. Folded pants and a shirt were under a pair of boots and arm bracers. Everything was black and leather, she thought it was dragonhide, but it was too light. She laid everything out, admiring the precise cut of the outfit and the design. The shirt was sleeveless with a deep red pattern on the front, barely visible in the low light of her room. She couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like a match to the seals on her letters. The back had the same pattern. There were two sets of bracers, one pair for her upper arms and one for her forearms. The pants had reinforced knees and thighs, and though they were lacking the red pattern, there was a criss-cross pattern over the reinforced parts. The boots were about ankle height with thick soles and reinforced soles.

Pulling off her pajamas, Ginny tried on the entire outfit. Everything was snug but not too tight, accentuating her muscles from Quidditch. She had to admit, she looked like a badass. She quickly braided her hair, throwing it over one shoulder. Looking at her reflection, she barely recognized the naive girl that was nearly killed by the Basilisk in her first year. She looked mature, capable. Ginny admired the outfit for a few more moments before quickly changing back into her pajamas and hiding her battle outfit at the bottom of her trunk. No one would find it there. Settling back in bed, Ginny mentally prepared for the coming morning as she drifted back to sleep.

Neville woke before his grandmother, just as the sun was turning the sky a morning grey color. Light filtered in through his curtains and he stared at the ceiling. He could have sworn he had heard somebody in his room during the night but played it off as his imagination. He tried to, anyway, but as his eyes wandered his room, they came to rest on a blue present on his dresser. It definitely hadn't been there when he went to sleep and he knew it wasn't from his grandmother. Hesitantly, he walked over to it and took the letter off the top. It was blank, save for a red seal with some sort of creature as the sigil. He didn't recognize it but he examined it for a long time before he broke it. He didn't want to unleash something horrible, like a howler. It stayed inanimate, for which he was grateful. He didn't want to be screamed at by magical scraps of paper, nor did he want to wake his grandmother.

Neville,

I realize this might be a bit strange, but the circumstances require it. You'll need it in the coming months, so be prepared and have it with you.

Happy Christmas,

Hermione

Neville read the short note again, fiddling with the wrapping paper. Setting the note aside, he took the present in his hands and began removing the paper. Inside he found what he assumed to be a battle outfit. It was sturdy, a black leather-like material and the shirt had the same insignia on the left breast pocket as the seal had. He knew it would fit so he didn't bother to try it on. Neville admired the outfit as he laid it out, glancing at his door every now and then. His grandmother was still silent, which was odd, but he took the opportunity to really study the clothes. They were all black and rather plain, but he could tell it would be like armor once he put it on. Smiling, Neville folded the clothes and placed the boots on top, stowing them in the bottom of his trunk under his robes.

Leaving his room, Neville entered the kitchen to find his grandmother and two other people sitting together and drinking tea. His grandmother wasn't really drinking so much, staring at the two people in front of her in shock. Neville couldn't tell who they were from behind, but as he approached, they turned, and he saw the faces of his parents.

"Merlin, look how much he's grown, Alice," Frank whispered, smiling at his son.

"I know. You look so grown up, Neville," Alice said, standing in front of her son.

"Mum, dad," he whispered, tightly embracing the woman in front of him, "How are you here? I thought you wouldn't be cured until after the war."

"We haven't the foggiest. Everything is a little fuzzy. The hospital finally deemed us able to leave a few weeks ago. We've been trying to keep everything on the quiet end," Frank explained, joining the hug.

"I know a place you can go if you need to stay hidden. A friend of mine owns it. Only a few people know where it is."

"This friend of yours, who are they?"

"Hermione."

"We've been staying at her castle with a few other people. She brought us here earlier this morning so we could spend Christmas with you."

"Of course, she did," Neville whispered with a smile. He sat down with his parents, intent on enjoying the short time he had with them. Once the war was over, they could be together again, but while Dumbledore still lived, his parents wouldn't be safe. Neville thought back to the outfit Hermione had sent him. The end was near, and Neville would be ready, despite his nerves. He had everything to lose if Hermione lost the war.

Luna smiled whimsically, a present in her lap. She didn't need to read the letter to know it was from Hermione. She would anyway, once she figured out what was on the seal of the letter. She knew it was some type of magical creature. It definitely wasn't a thestral or unicorn, it kind of looked like a phoenix but that would conflict with the Order. A dragon, it had to be a dragon. Morgana had close ties to the dragons and she was sure Hermione would, too. If not through her line, then through the Black line. It was no secret the Blacks got their affinity for magic from dragons, and Luna just so happened to know it was the very same dragon that was the companion to Morgana before she died. Luna nodded to herself, decision final. She broke the seal, opening the letter and letting her eyes drift across the page.

Luna,

I'm sure you don't need the letter to tell you this is from me, but I thought it would be nice. Keep it close and be ready, the time is coming.

Happy Christmas,

Hermione

Luna set the letter down, running her hands over the wrapping paper. Gently, she pried at the edges, opening the present slowly and neatly. Her smile widened when her eyes finally met the contents of the present. The battle outfit was plain but tough, the only design being the sigil of Hermione's house on the left breast, where a pocket would be. It was dark red and subtly stood out from the black material. The boots she would have to be extra careful with so she wouldn't lose them. She packed everything into her trunk, double checking her boots hadn't been taken. She very well couldn't battle barefoot. Well, maybe. She would just have to be careful not to step on anything harmful. There was a strange absence of Nargles since she had opened the package, but she shrugged, exiting her room to sit with her father. Together they stared at the fire in silence for a few moments, as was tradition since her mother died. It was a way of remembering her every morning, one she kept even at school. Luna felt a pang of sadness in her heart and turned away from the fire, waiting for her father to do the same. They smiled at each other, faint tear tracks glistening in the firelight on both of their faces. Neither moved to wipe them away, instead, they left them as a reminder for the woman they had lost and a promise to make her proud.

Aurion stood in a small clearing, staring at the single wisteria tree he had planted at the site of Morgan's death. He remembered the day vividly, the day Morgan had waltzed into her own death, but at least it had been on her terms. At least, she had produced a suitable heir for her line. Aurion walked under the shade of the tree, placing his cheek and hand against the bark. It was cool to the touch, just like she had been when he buried her. It was in this spot that he did so, as she had asked him to. He planted the tree as a reminder, and it had stood for the centuries after. Not once had it wilted or lost its leaves in winter. It had always been in bloom, always vibrant, even on the darkest days. He came here when he missed her, often spending several days at a time sitting in its shade and sleeping on its roots. It never bothered him, he loved the outdoors and sleeping under the stars. He was used to it.

"I miss you," he whispered, pressing his forehead into the bark of the tree. He could feel tears streaming down his face, heard them dropping onto the roots and soil below. So it had been for centuries.

Fret not, my dear Aurion. I am always with you.

"It's not the same, Morgan." He didn't receive another answer. He wasn't sure if the first was just his imagination or if it had been real. It sounded like her, but it always did. Sometimes when Hermione spoke, he could swear it was actually Morgan and he had to fight the urge to embrace her. It killed him to know he hadn't been able to save the woman he cared for most, had only been able to plant a tree in her memory. He should have been able to save her. He knew advanced healing and protection magic but she hadn't let him be there that day. Had forbidden him from following her when she left. He hated her for it at first. He understood now, though. She needed him so Hermione could have her place in the world. Aurion turned away from the tree, leaning his back against the bark. It was going to happen all over again, but this time, he could do something about it.

The Manor was full of people when Hermione and Bellatrix made their way downstairs. They had Apparated back early this morning to bathe and sleep before celebrating Christmas. Fred and George had joined them, at Draco and Hermione's invitation, as well as Tonks and Andromeda. It was more people than the Manor had seen in several months and Narcissa was glowing with joy. Hermione yawned as she reached the bottom of the stairs, leaning heavily against Bellatrix. She hadn't been kidding when she said it would be hard to walk normally, not that she was complaining.

"You okay, there, love?" Bellatrix asked, a smirk on her face.

"You know the answer to that," Hermione hissed, sending a playful glare Bellatrix's way. Bellatrix winked, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her to the dining room. Hermione was grateful for the support as she entered the dining room. She sat next to Tonks, Bellatrix taking the seat on her other side.

"Nice of you to join us," Narcissa said.

"It isn't that late, Cissy, we're on time," Bellatrix protested. Narcissa didn't answer, a slight smile on her face.

"Sorry to keep everyone waiting. Happy Christmas," Hermione said, elbowing Bellatrix subtly.

"Happy Christmas," they all said, smiles wide and bright. Breakfast appeared on their plates and they all began eating, sharing stories and adventures. They stayed at the table long after they finished, sipping hot chocolate or tea. It was a moment they wouldn't forget, their first Christmas together. Everything was as it should be and everyone wanted to make it last as long as they could. They retreated to the drawing room on Narcissa's suggestion, gathering on the furniture and floor. Hermione and Bellatrix took the floor, sitting in front of the couch. Tonks and Andromeda were on the couch behind the two and Draco sat on the floor across from Hermione and Bellatrix, Fred and George on either side of him. Narcissa and Lucius were in the two remaining chairs, angled inward so they could see everybody.

"I'm dying to know, who asked first?" Andromeda finally blurted, curiosity overwhelming her.

"I did," Bellatrix said. Hermione nodded, her cheeks slightly red.

"So, when's the wedding?" Draco asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Hermione.

"After the war. I want Ginny to be my maid of honor but that can't happen right now, obviously," she said.

"Wonderful. Although it would be nice to have a happy event during these dismal times, the safety of our friends and family is more important," Narcissa said, nodding in agreement. Her mind was already forming ideas for the celebration.

"I can practically see the wheels in your head turning, Cissy," Bellatrix said with a laugh. Narcissa scowled playfully at Bellatrix, laughing along.

"Whenever it is, we call dibs on the fireworks," George said, gesturing to Fred. Draco laughed, along with Hermione, who nodded her agreement. The entire day continued in the same manner, with a short break for lunch and a long break for dinner. Afterward, the twins, Tonks, and Andromeda returned to the castle and the remaining occupants of the house gathered in the library. Lucius and Narcissa were on the couch, Draco in one chair, and Hermione on Bellatrix's lap in the other. There was a knock on the library door before the Dark Lord entered, and they all scrambled to their feet.

"You do not need to stand, I'm here with presents," he spoke, waving his wand. One present levitated in front of each person and they stared at the Dark Lord. He nodded, gesturing for them to open their gifts. They each did so, Hermione the only one aware of what they would all be. Each of them had received an outfit, but they weren't all the same. Hermione and Bellatrix's were dark red, Draco's was black with Hermione's seal on the front and back sides in dark red, and Lucius and Narcissa's were plain black. Hermione and Bellatrix's reflected their rank as Lieutenant's, Draco's reflected his position as a leader of Hermione's allies, and Lucius and Narcissa's reflected their positions as the Dark Lord's followers. Lucius's upper arm bracers were dark red instead of black, marking his role as leader of the attack on the Ministry.

"Thank you, my Lord," they all breathed, in awe of the uniforms.

"Of course, I want only the best for all of you. And thank you, Hermione, for your assistance with it."

"That's why," Bellatrix started, cut off by Hermione's nod.

"Of course, my Lord. Happy Christmas. How is Nagini?"

"She is marvelous. Happy Christmas to you all, but I must be going. Death Eaters should never be left alone for too long." The family laughed as the Dark Lord turned on his heel, disappearing from the room.

Minerva sat in her living room alone, staring into the fire. A cup of tea, now gone cold, sat forgotten on the table in front of her. She rolled Hermione's wand between her fingers, staring at the wood. She had an idea of what was to come but she didn't want to think too hard about it. It was between Hermione and Dumbledore, she knew that, but she didn't want to lose either one. Even if Dumbledore wasn't the man she thought he was, she still respected him as Headmaster. Hermione was like a daughter to her and she couldn't bear to lose her, either. She knew only one of them would make it out alive, and she had to prepare herself, even if she didn't want to face it. It was going to happen, even if she turned away, so she might as well be ready. Things weren't always how we wanted them to be, but she would have the courage to face the outcome, no matter how unpleasant. It would not do to dwell on things that could not be changed. The die had been cast, and their fates were sealed. Everything would be as it should. She would accept that and she would not change it, no matter how much she wanted to. The only way for the war to end was for fate to run its course. Minerva knew that was more important than two lives. That didn't change the fact that she hoped for Hermione's survival stronger than she hoped for Dumbledore's.