Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

This took way longer than it should have, but I'm sure you all know that. I went one direction, then erased it and went another, and then still wasn't happy and re-wrote it a few more times. I basically got nothing except a headache. I kept putting it off. In the end, I've decided to just post the first half so you at least have something to read while I re-work the second part. I definitely apologize.

Chapter Fifty-One: The Beginning
……………………………………………………………

It happened in February. There was no warning. No signs. Or perhaps Harry's whole life could have been looked at as a warning.

Everyone was prepared for it. As prepared as anyone could be for the event that would alter the world as any of them knew it. To say that they'd spent the last few months getting ready was an understatement. And in many ways, it was also a gross, exaggerated lie.

It seemed almost as though everything that had ever happened, from the first day of Hogwarts and onward, was just one drill after another meant to prepare them for this. The troll on Halloween, Fluffy, the Chamber of Secrets, the Department of Mysteries, the battle at Hogwarts, the fight at the wedding, Order missions, Horcrux missions … they had all served the same purpose in the end.

Hermione had been preparing for this day her whole life. She truly did believe that. Even before she had ever heard of Hogwarts or Voldemort or Harry Potter, she had been preparing herself for what would happen today. It was destiny. She tried to imagine where her life would be now if she'd never gotten her letter and drew a blank. She was meant to be a part of this fight, and though she was a girl who had spent her life believing in science and circumstance rather than fate, she knew that it was fate, and fate alone, that had led her all the way to this moment.

Her elementary school teachers and her parents and even the authors whose books she had read – they'd all taken it upon themselves to pass along information so she would be able to fall back on it one day in an emergency. This was the day; the emergency. If she had ever learned one useful thing in her life, she was going to need it to come out today.

Her hands shook at the silent suggestion that she'd wasted her time. Harry and Ron had been out training, gaining experience that would give them a great advantage in this fight. And where had she been during all of that? She'd been back at The Burrow with her nose in a book. What if she'd been wrong? There were some situations that simply could not be simplified by any amount of book smarts and cleverness. What if this was one of those very situations?

She wished that this life could be laid out in front of her like one of her books. She wished she could pretend that the story was already written and that there would still be thousands of pages left to live out after this chapter was over. She needed to know if it was going to be a happy ending or not. For the first time in her life, Hermione wanted to read the last page first.

She felt helpless, which was perhaps the worst feeling in the world. She was at a point where envisioning her loved ones happy and safe and alive years into the future was the only thing that kept her going and also the only thing that she had no right to do.

But years and years from now, when Voldemort is just a chapter in the history books and Harry Potter is even less, the smell of an old, dusty book will still bring Hermione back to the moment that both started and ended everything.

……………………………………………………………

Something had changed on that morning. And even before. Lying in bed the previous night, things had been different for Ron. And on one level or another, they had all recognized what it meant. The air seemed thicker somehow, charged with something nobody could even begin to understand. Hermione would later refer to it as magical, and he would question whether or not that word held any significant meaning at all within the Wizarding World.

'Here,' Hermione said. 'I found a few more that I think we could stand to go through again.'

Ron looked up at her and groaned when he saw the thickness of the books she was carrying over. She dropped them onto the table with an echoing thud. 'Wait a second,' he said, glancing at the topmost book. 'We've already looked through these.'

'Which is why I said we should go through them again,' she said, sitting down at the table and diving into one of them.

'We don't even know what we're looking for,' said Ron. Was he the only one who realized that?

'When I find it, I'll know,' she said. She didn't sound as sure as she had yesterday or even the day before, though.

'There isn't time for this.'

'There has to be,' she argued, her eyes still scanning the pages before her. 'We just – we have to find something. There has to be something here that we've overlooked. Something that will help Harry.'

Two weeks ago, when Hermione first announced to him that she was going to read every single book in the Hogwarts library because she knew that the key to helping Harry was in one of them, he'd offered to help her. But if he was honest with himself, he knew that this was ridiculous and a total waste of time. Ron knew the truth, and the truth was that all of this was up to Harry now and no one else.

Since destroying the last Horcrux, he'd spent practically every night tossing and turning, trying to figure out the right way to help his best friend. And as corny as it sounded, Ron knew that the best shot Harry had at winning this was if Harry overpowered Voldemort by channeling the positive emotions he had for everyone. There were no ancient, mysterious spells in a book buried in the back of the Restricted Section that would do the trick. It didn't matter how well Harry had mastered his wandless magic. Ultimately, it would come down to the one and only thing Harry had that Voldemort could not even understand – love.

'The only way for us to help Harry now is to just be there when it happens,' he told her.

'That isn't good enough,' she insisted, slamming the book shut and reaching for another.

Ron grabbed her hands before they could snatch up another book. He forced her to look at him. 'You're right,' he said. 'It's not good enough. But it's all we can do. It's all we've ever been able to do.'

'Ron –'

'Harry isn't like us,' he pressed. 'He … he's the reason all of this is happening. He's the reason everyone's kept going for as long as they have. All we can do is fight to keep as many Death Eaters away from him as we can, because he's the only one who can do anything about anything now. And I know that it makes you feel useless, because it makes me feel the same way … but even if just being there isn't good enough for us, it's always been so much more than Harry has ever asked for.'

Her expression changed, her features tensing and relaxing at the same time, as if she was realizing for the first time in her life that she was wrong and didn't know how to go about it. It occurred to Ron that this probably was the first time Hermione had ever been wrong. She started to say something, but Tonks burst through the doors and put an end to their conversation.

'You've got to get to Headquarters,' she ordered them.

'Why?' asked Ron. But if the sudden spike in his heart rate was any indication, he already knew.

'Death Eaters are here. Just outside the gates,' Harry said, coming in behind Tonks. 'The wards aren't as strong as they were when Dumbledore was here. They won't hold much longer and we've got to get organized.'

'Let's go,' Hermione said. She rushed out of the room and Ron was with her every step of the way, but it registered that he couldn't hear Harry's heavy footsteps echoing behind him.

'Are you coming or what?' said Ron, turning back around.

'Harry has to stay here,' Tonks said.

This is it, Ron thought. This was the moment he'd always known would come. But in the past, he'd always been able to seek comfort by assuring himself that it wouldn't come to this for quite some time. And now it was happening. There was no later anymore. There was only this. Only now.

'What?' Hermione cried. 'No. Harry …'

'C'mon,' said Ron, putting his hand on her shoulder. He didn't look at Harry because he didn't think he would be able to leave if he did. 'We've got to go.'

'No,' Hermione said again. 'You have to come with us! You can't stay here!'

'Don't do this, Hermione,' Harry said. 'Please.' The sound of his voice was enough to make Ron's bottom lip tremble just a tiny bit.

'We're not going to let anything happen to him,' Tonks promised. But it wasn't her promise to make. And in all honesty, there wasn't a Death Eater in the bunch that would have any qualms about going through Tonks to get to Harry.

Hermione was in his arms then, and the pained look on Harry's face as he hugged her nearly made Ron lose it. This couldn't be happening now. They needed more time. Even just a few more minutes. Ron just needed to get his head straight so he could figure out what he was supposed to do and then do it as best as he could.

They'd spent the last year – hell, the last seven years – talking about Voldemort and the fight. So why did Ron feel like they'd left so many things unsaid?

Were they overreacting? Or was it even possible for Ron to overreact when his best friend in the world, a person who was merely just an extension of his own self, had to go off and face impossible danger alone?

When Hermione let go of Harry, Ron nearly charged forward to embrace his friend. He knew that he and Hermione were probably doing nothing to calm Harry just then, but he also knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if something happened and he hadn't at least begun to say goodbye first.

'I'll see you when this is over,' Harry said to them, and Ron had never heard him sound so determined. 'And this – er, I mean, if I'm wrong and – well, you know – then you should know that I would be nowhere if it wasn't for you. And even if I – if we – whatever – I still wouldn't want to change anything.'

Looking at Harry and Hermione now – remembering seven years of laughs and friendship, of harsh words and hurt feelings, and of fights both alongside and against each other – Ron could honestly say that he wouldn't have changed a thing either.

……………………………………………………………

'We've got a team about to go out to Hogsmeade to head them off, but it might be too late,' Lupin said. He spoke loudly, his voice booming and only a little shaky, and yet Ginny could hardly hear him over her own thoughts.

This was it. She could feel it. And looking around, she knew that she wasn't the only one. Her mother's hands shook as they reached out for her father. Neither twin was even contemplating making a joke. And Charlie looked – well, Charlie looked ready for an all-out fight to the finish.

Bill held onto Fleur just as Ron held onto Hermione. Her mother was gripping her father's hand so tight that Arthur was wincing. Fred had Angelina and George was with Alicia. Charlie sure seemed to have Cassi.

But Ginny was alone, because Harry was still at Hogwarts. He was still in the middle of all the danger. It wasn't fair that everyone but her got to be on the same level as the person they loved. It wasn't fair that Harry's role in this whole thing was the most important. And it certainly wasn't fair that no matter what Ginny did, Harry was going to get himself killed or close to it because he was just too damn noble and heroic to stand by and let anyone fight this battle for him.

She tried to get Harry to lower his wall, but he clearly had too much to deal with and didn't have time to talk to her. That was what she chose to believe, at least. She couldn't handle thinking about any of the other reasons as to why he wouldn't be able to communicate with her just then.

It had occurred to her some weeks ago that their connection could potentially be used for more than just sharing thoughts. If their minds were open to one another and one of them was hurt, would the other feel it? Ginny thought so. Harry hadn't been so quick to agree, but she was still nearly certain. She'd felt an awful jolt of pain when he'd been injured getting that Horcrux, hadn't she?

But there'd been no way to test it. They certainly weren't going to hex each other. The only people who knew about their situation were Ron and Hermione, and Ginny knew that neither of them would've been incredibly supportive of the idea either.

And what if one of them had died? Would the other one feel it? Or would their minds just close off to one another, the way it had before?

She was going to have to be very careful about everything now. If her theory was right, her safety was far more important than it ever was in the past. Sharing something like pain would only benefit them if it was Ginny sharing Harry's pain, and not the other way around. She had to make sure she didn't do anything stupid that would put her in a situation where she could potentially jeopardize Harry's health and abilities.

That was another factor too, wasn't it? Harry's wandless magic was going to take up a ton of his energy. Every time he'd ever performed any of it in the past, he'd always been left feeling drained. If he could somehow use their connection to draw energy from her, he could be that much more powerful. Wasn't it at least worth a try?

She couldn't do this. She couldn't sit here and listen to everyone outline their plans while Harry was out there without anyone to make sure he was safe. They needed to get to wherever the fighting was so she could help him. Who cared if they all knew exactly what they were doing or not? Ginny rarely felt like she had any idea at all of what was happening and what was still going to happen, and she knew that she wasn't the only one. She looked around at everyone. She hadn't seen so many people looking so absolutely out of their element since … since she was standing in a group of new students on her first day of Hogwarts.

And though less extreme, her first day at Hogwarts had been remarkably similar to this moment. She'd been surrounded by so many of her brothers, but she'd been so horribly alone just the same. And even though people had been in her exact position before, and had been in worse positions before, it was as though nobody had ever or would ever again know the terror she felt in her heart in the moments before the Sorting Hat sent her to Gryffindor.

She felt that same fear now. For as scary as that moment had been for an eleven-year-old girl with everything to prove to her brothers, this moment was all that and more for the girl with everything to prove to both Harry and herself.

Ginny's thoughts were interrupted when Tonks began speaking. When had she gotten there? Ginny studied her, and surely shad never seen anyone look so distressed in her life.

'There are more of them than we could've imagined. We need absolutely everyone in on this. Not just Order members. Get in contact with anyone who has proven themselves trustworthy and is willing to help.'

'What's going on?' she yelled, but it was drowned out by the other frantic voices in the room as everyone scrambled off to recruit outside help.

Finally, Hermione answered her. 'They – they've taken Hogwarts.'

Ginny fought for her breath. 'We've got to start owling people then,' she said. The room was filled with people who towered over her, and she could hardly find her way out of the crowd.

'Like who?' said Ron, coming up behind her. 'We don't have any contacts.'

'Luna and Neville,' Ginny said quickly. 'Colin and Dennis would come if we asked them … and Dean will help too of course … and maybe even Lavender if you write her nicely, Ron. Hermione, you can get Krum and probably McLaggen if you try. It wouldn't hurt to write the Patil twins, either. I bet Demelza and the rest of the Quidditch team would show up … I'll ask Michael Corner, too … I think I know a few Hufflepuffs who would at least consider … and d'you think Cho would be willing to get her friends together and help?'

She was not sure if any of these sentences were said aloud or not. All she knew was that she needed to find a way to get in contact with as many people as she could. And she had to figure out how to express that their help was desperately needed while downplaying the fact that most of them would be completely out of their element when faced with this much danger.

'How're any of them going to help?' said Ron dismissively. 'They're not ready for this.'

'Neither are we,' said Hermione. 'Perhaps we should –'

'There's a difference between us and them,' Ron argued. 'They'll be killed.'

'And?' said Ginny.

'And?' Ron repeated. 'What the hell d'you mean?'

'Maybe Ron's right,' said Hermione, casting a worried look at Ginny.

'There's no screening process here,' cried Ginny. 'We're not looking for the next great warrior. We're looking for anybody who can get between the Death Eaters and Harry. So even if I have to owl all of them myself, I will. As long as Harry's alive when this is over – even if it means I'm responsible for killing off half of your year and mine – I'm not going to feel bad about anything done here today.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, and she could nearly read their thoughts as if they were her own. Has it really come to this?

And as Ginny raced to The Burrow and rounded up all the owls they had at their disposal, she reassured herself that it had indeed come to this.

……………………………………………………………

'They're through!' someone yelled. Harry couldn't even begin to focus on who it was.

Tonks went to go update everyone at Headquarters, leaving him in Dumbledore's office with the instructions to stay here and stay out of trouble.

Looking through the window at the mass of black robes that were rushing toward the school, Harry doubted very much that he would be able to do either of the things Tonks had told him to do.

When Death Eaters had attacked Hogwarts last time, Harry hadn't been there. He and Dumbledore had been off on a pointless Horcrux mission. This time around, things were going to be different. Dumbledore would have to sit this out, but Harry certainly wasn't going to. He was going to defend his school the way he would defend … well, actually, the only other thing Harry had was Headquarters, but that held very little sentimental value to him. And The Burrow was like his home, and he loved it, but it wasn't his. The Weasleys owned it and they were just nice enough to let him act like he belonged there.

But Hogwarts was his. It belonged, at least in a tiny way, to everyone who went there. The only difference was that most of the other students and teachers had other places to call home, and Harry did not. It occurred to him that he may never have another place to defend. The others would grow up and have houses of their own someday – but Harry would perhaps never get that opportunity. If he died now, he would never know the pride of having something that was entirely his. Hogwarts was as close as he would ever come, and the idea of Death Eaters trying to take this from him made him angrier than he could've expected.

He kept watching through the window for as long as he could bear. He thought back to something McGonagall had said to him when he was about to attempt the Wandering Spell to rescue Ginny, about how there were other, more expendable people, to do the dirty work instead.

Harry had hated her in that moment, but at the same time, he had understood what she was trying to say. The same was true for now. There were two choices – he could hide and stay safe until the time was right, so he could finish Voldemort for good; or he could go out there and fight with everyone else, and maybe get seriously injured or captured or a million other things, all of which would ruin their chances at winning, but at least he wouldn't be sitting on his hands.

He looked down at the grounds and saw a group of Aurors trying to keep the Death Eaters from getting inside the school. He spotted Kingsley right away and also recognized several others whose names he'd never gotten the chance to learn. Why did they have to put their lives on the line to keep him safe?

Harry realized that he had obligations. He had to do everything he could to kill Voldemort. That was his only job, and everyone else's jobs were centered on keeping him alive long enough to complete it.

But these people were his friends. They were all skilled witches and wizards. Most importantly, they were wonderful people. He'd gone on Order missions with them and fought alongside them. How could he just sit back and watch them fight a losing battle? Wasn't he also obligated to help them?

Dumbledore wasn't in his portrait. He was probably at Headquarters, trying to organize everything. Half of the other portraits were missing, and the ones who remained were demanding that Harry tell them everything he knew. The trouble was that Harry didn't know a bloody thing. He wished someone would come for him soon, whether it be Dumbledore or Tonks or even a rude git like Charlie.

He alternated between staying glued to the window and pacing the room in frustration. He could almost hear his heart pounding. His fingertips itched the way they did quite often as of late, almost as if there was an enormous buildup of excess magic just waiting to be used. He knew that his wandless magic was going to be an important part of his fight. But he'd never fully exerted himself, either on missions or in training, for fear that something would come up and he wouldn't be able to recover in time. Really, he had no idea what he was capable of. It was frightening to think that he could maybe do a million and one amazing things with this skill and that he didn't even know it. And on the other hand, it was frightening to think that he was relying quite a bit on his wandless magic and that it might not even come through for him in the way he'd need it to.

What if he was just kidding himself? Could he really do this?

Of course he couldn't. He was going up against one of the most powerful wizards of all time. How could he even think he could do this?

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window. His mind was a dangerous place. Either Voldemort was invading it or he was letting his own paranoid thoughts get the best of him. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He could do this. He would do this. Too much was riding on this for him to fail. He wouldn't let himself fail.

'Harry.'

Harry turned and saw that Dumbledore had returned to his portrait.

'Sir,' said Harry. 'Were you at Headquarters? What's going on?'

Dumbledore merely smiled. 'Actually, Harry, I have just come from my other portrait. There were a few issues that I needed to sort out there.'

'You have another portrait, sir?' Harry asked. He remembered Dumbledore mentioning something about this once, but he hadn't found anything significant about it then and he certainly didn't understand why Dumbledore would go there now when this was going on at Hogwarts.

'Why, yes,' said Dumbledore. 'At Spinner's End.'

Tonks came back at that moment and relieved Harry from his conversation with Dumbledore. 'Come on,' she said. 'We've got more people coming to help, but the Death Eaters are inside and we can't risk you staying here any longer.'

……………………………………………………………

'Ginny?'

Ron spun around at the sound of someone calling his sister from the other room.

Ginny jumped up from the kitchen table, where she and Hermione had been frantically writing letter after letter to friends asking for their help.

Ron's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when a frazzled-looking Neville Longbottom entered the Weasley kitchen.

'Neville!' Ginny cried. 'You came!'

'Of course we did,' he said.

'We?' said Hermione.

Ron's eyes left Neville and went to the second figure entering the kitchen.

'Hello,' said Luna Lovegood, sounding surprised, as though they'd all just walked into her house and not the other way around.

'An owl came with Ginny's letter, so I Floo'd to Luna's and got her too before coming,' explained Neville. 'Is anyone else here?'

Ron shook his head. 'You're the first ones,' he said, but what he meant was you're the only ones. Truthfully, he would be shocked if anyone else showed up. Luna and Neville had already proven several times that they were dedicated to helping in any way that they could, and so although he was pleased that they'd come, he wasn't overly surprised. But the others had long since given up on the DA, and surely they had better things to do today than get themselves killed in a battle.

'Hopefully we'll hear from some of the others soon,' Hermione added, sounding more hopeful than Ron would've expected. He looked at her sideways. Did she really believe that anyone else would volunteer to help?

They were all Gryffindors, sure, but that didn't mean any of them were going to venture out of their safety zones to come fight to the death because they were asked by a couple of their schoolmates. What did these letters even say? Sorry we haven't been in touch in close to a year, and even though we weren't horribly close back at school, d'you think you'd be able to help me out by coming to risk your life in the Final Battle against Voldemort?

This wasn't like asking to borrow a piece of parchment or to copy someone's Astronomy homework. And Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry hadn't been in touch with virtually anyone, especially in the last few months. If the situation was reversed, and someone like the Patil twins were writing to Ron and asking for him to enter into this much danger for them, would he go?

Of course he'd go. But only because he'd grown up with stupid, noble Harry, and somewhere along the way a lot of the traits that often got Harry into trouble had rubbed off on him.

'That's an interesting clock,' said Luna airily, looking around the kitchen. 'And where's Harry?'

Ron closed his eyes. He wished he knew the answer to Luna's question. At the moment, he didn't know anything. He didn't know if Harry was even still … alive. He forced himself not to think about it, if only because Ginny and Hermione couldn't know how worried he was. He had to be strong for them. If he didn't keep things together, who would?

But when he looked at the girls, they both seemed far more composed than he felt. They looked determined. Ready for war, Ron thought. Who would've guessed that when it came down to it, Hermione and Ginny would be the fierce warriors while Ron was the one worrying about everything?

'I'll be back,' said Ron. He went upstairs before anyone could say anything to stop him. He sat down on his bed and looked around the bedroom he'd shared with Harry for so many summers now. Get it together, he told himself. He closed his eyes again and conjured up every positive image he could. These were the things he was fighting for. He wasn't afraid for himself in the least. He would do what he had to do and would not complain or think twice about it. But what about Hermione? Harry? His family? He told himself that when this day was over, everything was going to be exactly the way he remembered it, because he simply would not stand for anything less.

It was delusional. Surely he was setting himself up for a giant fall. But convincing himself that it would be okay was the only way to get him through these next crucial hours, and he needed to get through them. Feeling steadier than before, he went back downstairs and re-entered the kitchen.

Dean was there. And Lavender. Padma and Parvati were in quiet discussion in the corner. Colin Creevey was sitting at the table helping Ginny write more letters. Over the next several minutes, the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team arrived. The twins came back home with some of the people who were arriving at Headquarters, including Viktor Krum. Absentmindedly, Ron thought that this would be the only time that Krum would ever be welcome in his home.

In no time at all, The Burrow was filled with friends and acquaintances of all sorts, and there were still more arriving every second. The plan had been to keep as many non-Order members away from Headquarters as possible, but Ron knew that soon there would be too many people to fit in The Burrow and they'd have to move. People were going out in shifts, though Ron had no idea where they were going or what they were going to do when they got there.

It was amazing how quickly everything came together. It felt as though it took hours to get everyone settled, but at the same time, it was as though everyone was operating on a different level today. Everyone seemed to realize the severity of the situation and was, for one day only, willing to ignore egos and listen to those in charge.

'If anyone's got any lingering problems, sort them out now,' said Kingsley. 'From here on out, there's no turning back.' With that, he went back into the other room.

'Wait. Is this really – y'know – it?' asked Neville, shifting uncomfortably. His words tumbled out so quickly that Ron could hardly catch what he said. 'Because I – I didn't say goodbye to Gran and if I'm going to die today I should probably leave her a note or something so she'll remember to feed Trevor.'

He looked at them expectantly, and if Ron hadn't been so wrapped up in everything else going on, he would've realized that Neville was looking to be reassured. He was waiting for Ron to call him crazy, to tell him that surely they would all make it out alive and that nobody would have to leave any sort of goodbye notes to their loved ones.

Instead, Ron said nothing. Not even after Ginny looked up and said, point-blank, 'There's parchment on the table. I think you should probably write that note.'

……………………………………………………………

If you promise not to give up on this story, I promise to do the same. The second part will be out eventually, but I make no promises as to when.

Review. I'd like to get this to 3000 before the end.