Disclaimer: The following characters, settings and referenced events are, and always will be, the property of J K Rowling.

– CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE –

Message in a Bottle

Voldemort's high-pitched laughter echoed around the chamber, chilling the cold atmosphere further. After a stunned moment, Bellatrix Lestrange's cackle joined him.

'You did it, master; you did it! You are truly the most –'

But before anyone had a chance to find out what Voldemort was truly the most of, Neville pointed his wand across the floor towards where Harry had collapsed, making Gryffindor's sword fly swiftly to his outstretched hand, then he rolled away from Bellatrix to where Slytherin's statue still gripped Voldemort's wand hand. Perhaps Voldemort was too busy luxuriating in the glory of his triumph over Harry to notice more pressing matters … perhaps Slytherin's reaction time was hindered by the fact that he was made of stone … but Neville managed to thrust the sword up towards the gap between Slytherin and Voldemort before anyone could stop him.

Voldemort's hand clutched reflexively at his chest and gripped the sword point poking out from his heart, his eyes filled with shocked surprise. As Bellatrix Lestrange's cry of triumph became a shriek of horror, Lord Voldemort – Tom Marvolo Riddle – slumped back against the statue of his famous ancestor … and died.

'No!'

Bellatrix lunged at Neville trapped between Slytherin and her dead master as a low rumbling sound vibrated up from the floor. A moment later, Slytherin's statue exploded in a fireball, sending pieces of hot stone flying in every direction. Fawkes dived down from his circling vigil, his beak stretching wide to swallow the flames before they could burn Neville, disappearing in a puff of ashes in the remains of Slytherin's feet.

The force of the blast knocked Bellatrix off her own feet. She flipped over in midair and landed face down several yards away, a large section of Slytherin's torso landing heavily on top of her, knocking her out.

Neville scrambled out from under Voldemort's body, blinking as dust settled around him. Ron and Hermione rushed over to Harry's body, pale as ghosts. Susan tried to stand but promptly fell back down with a yelp; Hufflepuff's statue had apparently damaged her ankle when it stomped on her foot. Wormtail was writhing on the floor behind Ravenclaw's statue, screaming in agony.

Lupin came over to help Neville to his feet, but he stopped when he noticed Snape staring towards Gryffindor's chair.

'What is it?'

'Dumbledore hasn't moved.'

Lupin frowned, then scraped the toe of his shoe through the ashes in Slytherin's feet. He looked across at Snape, suddenly very worried.

'Fawkes isn't being reborn.'

They exchanged almost panicked looks and rushed up to Dumbledore, Snape making it in five strides.

Professor Dumbledore sat hunch-shouldered in Gryffindor's chair, chin resting on his chest, his silver hair hanging forwards, half covering his face. He looked, for all the world, as though he had just dozed off, but both men knew the moment they reached him that nothing could be done for Hogwarts greatest headmaster.

Lupin reached a shaky hand forwards to brush the hair back but Snape stopped him.

'You see to Potter,' he said quietly, staring unblinking down at his former mentor. Lupin hesitated, then laid his hand on Snape's shoulder a moment before walking slowly down to where Ron was cradling Harry in his arms, rocking back and forth.

'Why did Slytherin's statue blow up?' asked Luna. The statue of Rowena Ravenclaw had glided away from where it had been blocking her and seemed to be deep in conference with both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, enabling Luna to make her way over to where Susan was trying to remove her shoe, blinking back tears of pain as her swollen ankle protested. At Luna's question, Gryffindor turned to face her.

'The dark wizard which hath just perished upon mine blade was the last of Salazar's blood. None other kith nor kin hath he. And through the taint of evil which didst stain his line, our former colleague didst show that he hath no worth to be counted amongst the pillars which have held this establishment aloft for this past millennia. Had he and his kind succeeded in their evil, more than blood wouldst run through these halls; the very pillars themselves wouldst crumble and Hogwarts wouldst be no more.'

All three statues bowed their heads, sorrow etched deeply into their stone faces at the thought that something so mighty had come so close to falling.

'So what happens to the Slytherins?' Susan asked through gritted teeth, gingerly rubbing her ankle.

Snape dragged his attention from Gryffindor, made his way over to her and began to examine the bones for damage as Gryffindor answered, 'Those which hath shared Salazar's desire for darkness shalt now be probed for other qualities and reassigned' (the Sorting Hat gave a little bow) 'to one of the other four houses.'

'Hang on,' said Ron. 'You just said Slytherin doesn't exist anymore.'

'This ist truth.'

'Well, that leaves three houses, not four,' Luna pointed out.

'Three founding houses still stand, but four houses must there be, for four walls must we hold. Thence, we hath concurred that, from this time, the fourth house shall share its qualities with one who has always stood for right, strength and, above all else, good greatness. Had he lived when first we didst dream of this great school, we three,' (both Helga and Rowena bowed their heads) 'wouldst have felt great pride to count the founder of Hogwarts' newest house amongst the founders of Hogwarts.'

As the Sorting Hat smirked at them from atop Gryffindor's head, Wormtail's screams continued their on-again, off-again chorus. Gryffindor glanced down at him, distaste etched on its stone features, and stomped his foot on top of the Marauder, grinding its heel in hard to muffle the sound.

'Can't someone shut him up properly?' asked Ron.

'No,' Lupin said softly as he bent down to pick up Harry's body. When he turned to face them, silent tears trickled down his cheeks, but his voice was quite steady as he explained, 'When Harry stopped Sirius and me killing Peter four years ago, he saved Peter's life, thereby creating a life debt. So if Peter didn't stop Harry being killed, he would, in turn, suffer a thousand deaths himself.'

'Does that mean that Zabini is dying right now, too?'

Lupin and Snape frowned in confusion.

'Yes,' Hermione answered him.

Ron screwed his nose up as he looked down at Wormtail. 'How many has he got to go?'

'Nine hundred and seventy three.' Hermione's voice was so soft, it was barely audible over the sounds of death. Although her eyes were dry, her face was deathly pale. Picking up Harry's Invisibility Cloak, she gave a shudder as she glanced around the Hallows. 'Can we please go now?'

'Yes.' Snape had finished repairing Susan's ankle and was hoisting Dumbledore unceremoniously over his shoulder; Hermione gave a faint hiss and Ron shook his head in disgust. Without further ado, Snape marched across the chamber to the gigantic doors, fishing both the Founders' Key and bodkin from his robes as he went.

Luna helped Susan scramble to her feet. Reaching the door, Susan glanced from the keyhole to Harry, cradled in Lupin's arms.

'Er, Professor?' she asked nervously. 'How are we going to get out?'

'Harry's blood is still warm.' Lupin smiled reassuringly. 'So it should still work all right.' He adjusted Harry's position so Snape could reach the newly-pricked finger to the Gryffindor hole. Susan suppressed a hiss as Snape stabbed her finger with the bodkin, then he drew blood from his own and reached for the hole beside the R. Inserting the tiny key into the lock, he turned it.

The doors remained solid.

Snape rounded on Lupin. 'You said this would work!' he snapped as Dumbledore's body began to slip off his shoulder.

Lupin shook his head, staring at the doors. 'That's what Dumbledore said. He must have gotten it wrong.'

'Thank you for stating the obvious for us,' hissed Snape. 'Now, perhaps you would like to apply your mind to the problem of how we're going to get out of here.'

'You mean we're trapped?' Ron's voice squeaked with panic.

'Quiet, Weasley; I need to think.'

'It's a pity the new Gryffindor heir isn't here,' commented Susan.

'I SAID BE QUIET!'

'Go easy, Severus,' Lupin said quietly. 'They're just as frightened as you are.'

Snape looked like he was going to hit Lupin.

'What Gryffindor heir?' Neville glanced nervously towards Snape.

'Well, Slytherin's statue broke because his line doesn't exist anymore, but Gryffindor is still whole, so he obviously still has other descendants besides Harry. But unfortunately, whoever they are, they're not here,' she sighed, gazing up at the doors again.

Neville glanced from Snape to the doors, and then back at Gryffindor's statue, which nodded its head ever so slightly. Squaring his shoulders, Neville snatched the bodkin from Snape's hand.

'What the –?'

Both Snape and Lupin were staring at Neville, Snape furiously and Lupin with puzzled curiosity.

'My father is still alive. Does that make a difference?'

Lupin and Snape continued to stare. And they weren't the only ones; Ron, Hermione and Susan were also gaping at him.

'I said does that make a difference?' Neville glared from Snape to Lupin, the bodkin pressed against his finger.

'Neville?' Hermione ventured nervously as Snape's dark eyes darted to Lupin, who shrugged.

'There's only one way to find out.' Of all the people in the Hallows, Luna seemed to be the only one not surprised by Neville's behaviour.

Taking his cue from her, Neville visibly gritted his teeth and jabbed the point into his finger, allowing a large drop of blood to bubble to the surface. Thrusting it into the hole above the key, he handed the bodkin to Susan. Once her finger was likewise inserted into its hole, they all turned expectantly to Snape.

'Well, go on, Professor,' Luna instructed. 'Open the door.'

Snape's eyes narrowed. 'Lovegood, you still have another year to go at this school; do you want Ravenclaw to start that year so far behind on points, it will take them a decade to catch up?'

'Stop bullying them, Snape, and let's get out of here.' Lupin took a step towards him.

'I can manage on my own,' Snape growled as he shook back the long sleeve of his robes.

All three fingers finally in their respective holes, Snape adjusted Dumbledore's weight on his shoulder then turned the key.

Hermione, Ron and Susan gasped loudly as the door dissolved into nothingness as Luna beamed. Lupin shook his head in quiet amazement, pride glistening in his eyes. Snape stared at Neville almost appraisingly, as if sizing him up.

'Shall we go before the door shuts again?' asked Luna as she pointed her wand at Gryffindor and the Sorting Hat flew into her waiting hand.

That made everybody jerk their attention away from Neville.

'Bones, Longbottom …' Snape's dark eyes bored through Neville again as he stepped across the threshold. 'Hurry up, Weasley.'

Ron's mouth still hung open as he stepped forwards, but he hadn't quite reached Snape when a sound other than Wormtail's faint screams made him turn his head. Bellatrix Lestrange, still trapped under part of Slytherin's torso, had finally regained consciousness. As she raised her head and stared towards the door, pure hatred flashed across her gaunt face. Scrabbling her fingers across the floor, she grabbed her wand.

'Look out!'

Ron dived at Snape, forcing him through the doorway as Hermione screamed and a jet of green light shot across the hall.

Momentarily blinded by the flash, Snape blinked away stars as he tried to wriggle out from under Dumbledore's body and found himself staring at a pair of very shocked, startled eyes.

'Ron!' Hermione rushed into the edge of Snape's vision.

'Stay back!' he barked. Reaching up, he pressed his fingers against Ron's neck and then glanced up at Lupin, shaking his head ever so slightly.

'No.' Hermione tried to lunge at them but Lupin held her back.

As realisation of what they had just witnessed spread through the group, a hollow pall descended upon them. Snape could understand Granger being distraught by Weasley's death, but was surprised that Longbottom and Bones were more affected than they had been when Potter died. The only one who didn't seem to be in shock was Lovegood. Did nothing rattle that girl?

Luna took a step towards the corridor leading back to the school.

'Wait,' Snape grunted as he rolled Ron and Dumbledore from on top of him, enabling himself to finally stand. His dark eyes swept the pale faces before him.

'You –' he held each pair of eyes in turn, '– will wait here. Lupin and I shall assess whether it is safe to proceed further.' (Lupin lowered Harry's body gently to the floor and took Harry's broom from Susan.) 'Touch … nothing.'

Hermione had dropped beside Ron but jerked back with a teary sob at Snape's command.

'Why shouldn't you be allowed to touch him?' Neville glared at the darkness which had just swallowed Snape as Susan knelt down beside Hermione and pulled her into a comforting embrace.

'How do you think the rest of them are doing?' wondered Luna to nobody in particular.

They all spent the next few minutes straining their ears for any sound, trying to determine if war still waged above them. Silence echoed around them.

'How long have you know you were descended from Godric Gryffindor?'

'Not now, Luna!' Susan admonished as Neville said, 'My whole life.' He looked back at the others.

'I can't hear anything. Do you think it's because the Death Eaters are all dead, our lot are all dead or we're too far away?'

'This Hallows place only appears when there's danger in the school, right?' asked Luna.

'Yes,' said Susan, still listening to the school above.

'Then the Death Eaters are dead. Or at least, no longer threatening the school.'

Hermione finally looked up from Susan's shoulder. 'How do you figure that one?'

'Because the doors just disappeared.'

'What?' All three heads jerked around. Where the two massive doors had stood only minutes before, a dense blackness blossomed in its place, spreading towards them as they gazed in horror.

'MOVE!' Hermione almost threw Susan from her in her haste to regain her feet. Giving her wand a quick flick, she pushed Neville towards the corridor's turn as Harry, Ron and Dumbledore floated upright. 'Quickly!'

She didn't need to tell them twice; even Luna realised the urgency of the situation. Bumping against each other in panic, they scrambled around the corner and sprinted towards the Great Hall, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and the dark nothingness rushing after them like a silent wave.

They had just rounded the last bend when they saw Snape and Lupin coming towards them.

'I told you to –'

'RUN!' all four of them screamed.

Snape's face darkened, then froze mid-scowl as both his and Lupin's eyes widened at the sight bearing down upon them. Lupin reversed stride immediately, waving both students and bodies ahead of him. Snape stepped back to let them pass, reached into his robes and removed a small jar, which he shook several times before throwing down the rapidly-disappearing corridor.

A small tornado suddenly appeared in front of the nothingness, spinning back and forth across the corridor. With a tight smile of satisfaction, Snape ran after the others.

'What did you just do?' Lupin shouted over the sound of the wind.

'Bought us time!' Snape's hair whipped across his face.

Even though they were no longer under immediate threat, they didn't slow down at all, despite sore lungs and aching muscles. It was with enormous relief that they finally burst out into the Great Hall and collapsed in a heap upon the soft folds of the tapestry Harry, Ron and Neville had torn down. For several minutes they just lay there and tried to bring their breathing back to normal as the enormity of everything which had just happened began to sink in.

'Oh!'

Neville raised his head. 'What the –?'

Professor Flitwick was standing at the other end of the Great Hall, staring at them in surprise. The tables and benches were pushed back against the walls and the floor was covered with several Death Eaters; most of them were securely gagged and bound from head to toe, hatred-filled eyes blazing in defiance behind their masks, but there were at least three dead ones lying amongst them. Flitwick flicked his wand at yet another Death Eater which was bobbing along behind him so that it stretched itself out beside its accomplices, then he hurried up the Hall towards the returned heroes. He skidded to a halt and stared at the bodies floating in front of the resealed wall.

'Are they –?'

'Yes!' snarled Snape. 'And you nearly got the rest of us killed as well!'

Flitwick jumped with fright, clearly bewildered by this attack. He stood gaping at Snape, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say next. Lupin came to his rescue.

'I take it all of the Death Eaters have been taken care of?'

'Yes,' squeaked Flitwick, turning from Snape. 'All the ones which were here, at any rate. Nymphadora said she saw a couple of Death Eaters chasing after …' He gazed up at Harry again, tears starting to appear in the corners of his eyes. 'What happened? Did Harry manage to …?'

'The Dark Lord is dead, if that is what you are asking,' Snape informed him coldly as he stood. 'As are the two whom were seen following him.'

'But if Harry killed … how …?' Flitwick gaped up at Harry again, clearly at a loss as to how events had unfolded.

'Not now, Filius,' said Lupin quietly. 'We really should get up to the hospital wing.' He nodded towards Hermione, who was starting to shake as shock properly set in.

'Yes, yes, of course.' Flitwick turned his attention to the more immediate matter. 'Poppy will be able to take care of all of you. And Professor McGonagall will want an update.'

As he led them past the Death Eaters, they noticed that the mask of one of the dead ones was hanging half off his face. Hermione gasped.

'That was Dawlish.' She pointed back at him as Snape prodded her in the back and muttered, 'Keep moving.'

'What's wrong?' Lupin looked back and saw that Snape, despite encouraging Hermione to continue up to the hospital wing, was hanging back, gazing closely at each of the Death Eaters.

'You go on ahead; I'll catch you up,' he said distractedly, eyes still searching for some unknown quarry.

Neville looked like he was going to object to Snape remaining in the Great Hall with numerous Death Eaters, unsupervised, but Lupin continued to herd them all towards the Entrance Hall and he was forced to let the matter lie.

Halfway to the hospital wing, they came across Fred huddled up against a wall and cradling a dead George against his chest. His eyes were red and haunted and he didn't try to fight off Lupin as he gently helped him to his feet and led him along with them. He didn't even seem to notice Ron's body.

'About time! I thought you were never going to get here.'

Fred almost dropped George as they entered the hospital wing. Every ghost who haunted the school was assembled before them. It was rather fortunate that they were ghosts because most of them needed to stand shoulder to shoulder through the beds or they wouldn't have all fitted in the ward. Only one bed was left untouched, although Nearly Headless Nick, the Fat Friar and the Grey Lady stood by three of its bedposts. And at the fourth …

'Bring me over here, I've saved this bed especially.' A very transparent George ran his hand through the blankets.

Neville and Susan's jaws dropped and Hermione gave a squeaky sob, but Fred just stood there staring at his ghostly twin. It was only when Madam Pomfrey fought her way through the sea of spectreplasm, gasping at the iciness, and went to take George's body from him, that Fred dragged himself out of his stupor enough to carry his closest brother over to the proffered bed and reverently lay him upon the well-made linen.

'Good man.' George patted his brother's shoulder.

Fred jumped as if he had been zapped. 'That was …' He cautiously reached a hand out and tried to touch George, his fingers sinking into his brother's chest. 'Warm?' He then reached up and rubbed a thumb through George's cheek. 'How can you be warm?'

'That's because his body is still warm,' said Nearly Headless Nick matter-of-factly. 'Won't last, you know.'

Now that George's body was in the same location as his spirit, the other ghosts started to leave, drifting through the walls and ceiling until the only ghosts left in the hospital wing were George and Moaning Myrtle. With the view clear once more, he finally noticed the bodies floating behind Hermione.

'Oh, Mum is going to be so –'

'Please release them, dear.' Madam Pomfrey was gently trying to loosen Hermione's grip on her wand so she could move Dumbledore, Harry and Ron to empty beds, not that there were many left.

'Uncle Albus?'

Everybody stared at Professor Capsworth, stunned by what she had just said. 'Uncle?'

She didn't say anything more, though. She just sat on the end of a bed halfway down the ward, several cuts on her head and one arm was in a sling, staring at Dumbledore's body. Nor was she the only casualty of the battle. Dedalus Diggle and Professor Vector had sustained serious injuries, though not so serious that their treatment was beyond Madam Pomfrey, and were convalescing at the far end of the ward, nearest to the office. Two of the beds had sheets drawn right up over the pillows so that the identities of the bodies lying beneath them were concealed. Professor McGonagall was sitting in a rocking chair beside Professor Vector's bed, numerous cuts and small bandages dotted over her frame. She stood and came towards them as Luna asked, 'Who else died?'

'Not now, Miss –'

'Kingsley Shacklebolt and Professor Sprout,' George answered her.

'What?' Neville's legs gave way and he collapsed onto the nearest bed. He stared dazedly at the two covered beds, easily determining which bore his former Herbology teacher by the shape, but seemed reluctant to approach her at all.

'Here, Poppy; I'll do it.' McGonagall had joined Madam Pomfrey and Hermione. She gave her own wand a sharp jab and Harry, Ron and Dumbledore's bodies finally floated to their designated beds as Snape entered through the doors behind her.

'What was that all about downstairs?' Lupin wanted to know.

'Confirming a suspicion. I found out how Weasley died.'

'Yeah, that lumpy woman with the weird cackle got me.' George glared across from his body's bedside. 'What's it to you?'

Snape froze as he spotted the school's new House ghost. His eyes darted to Lupin, who nodded, then back to George, taking in the body lying on the bed beside him.

'I meant your younger brother,' Snape clarified. Lupin frowned in puzzlement that Snape would need to examine Death Eaters who hadn't even been in the Hallows when he had seen, with his own eyes, exactly how Ron had died. 'It seems Potter's prediction of double runs of luck was true. Dawlish, Blackthorn and Rodolphus Lestrange all have traces of Felix Felicis about them. With the extra doses added to the equation, I'm surprised we came through this as unscathed as we have.' His dark eyes roved over the many full beds, coming to rest on Dumbledore.

'Unscathed?' McGonagall stared at Snape in shock. 'You call this unscathed?' She waved her in a wide arc, indicating all of the injuries and fatalities.

'Yes.' Snape frowned at her. 'Without that potion, all the good luck would have run in favour of the Dark side, and these beds would contain far more bodies, believe me.'

McGonagall took a step back as Snape advanced, clearly unwilling to confront the image Snape's description conjured: a Hogwarts where all of the Order of the Phoenix were dead, and Voldemort and his Death Eaters ruled supreme. Her face was still quite pale when the doors swung open yet again as Tonks, Moody, Bill and Ginny entered the hospital wing.

Tonks immediately went over to her husband, where they began checking and quietly assuring each other that they had survived in one piece. Bill and Ginny stopped stock still as they spotted George and Ron. Moody gave an angry growl and pushed past Bill and Ginny, stumping awkwardly towards Snape, but Neville jumped up before him.

'Out of my way!' Moody didn't take either eye off Snape.

'I don't need you to protect me, Longbottom.' Snape's voice, though quiet, held a dangerous undertone, like a tightly wound spring.

'Leave him be, Moody.' Lupin walked around them and stood behind Neville's shoulder. 'He's on our side.'

'The hell he's on our side! He's been doing You-Know-Who's bidding for over a year, if he ever stopped.'

'V-v-voldemort is dead.'

Everybody stared at Neville, their faces turning white, though not as quickly as Neville's; even Lupin was momentarily stunned that he had managed to say Voldemort's name.

McGonagall looked from Neville to Lupin and Snape. 'So you succeeded.' She got several nods in reply. 'But … how did Potter …?'

'Voldemort killed Harry.' Lupin glanced over at Harry's body. 'Or, rather, Harry let Voldemort kill him. He realised it was the only way to weaken Voldemort enough that he could be killed. Neville was the one who then finished the job.'

They all blinked stupidly at Neville as Lupin patted him on the back.

'And Ron?' Bill slowly walked over to stand beside his youngest brother.

'Bellatrix Lestrange took a shot at Professor Snape as we were leaving and Ron –' Susan broke off as Hermione gave a loud sniff. Fred glanced at George a second, then walked over to Hermione and pulled her into his arms.

'Arthur Weasley's kid died saving that?' Moody dived at Snape but suddenly found himself face to face with Neville, Susan and the ghostly George.

'What do you lot think you're doing?'

'Standing together,' said Susan.

'What else would you expect the Houses to do?' asked Luna.

'Huh?'

'I'm descended from Helga Hufflepuff,' said Susan.

'Godric Gryffindor.'

'Ravenclaw.' Snape's thin lips barely moved.

Moody made a sound deep down in his throat. 'That was just some rubbish the Prophet cooked up. You're not –'

'Actually, yes, he is, Alastor.' McGonagall went and stood beside Susan. 'And as Headmistress of this school, I am afraid I cannot have you endangering the heirs.'

Moody glared defiantly for several seconds then, realising he wasn't going to get anywhere with that line, changed tact.

'And what's with you?' The electric blue eye swiveled to aim at George. 'I wouldn't have picked you as one who would be afraid of death!'

'I'm not.' George's body may have still been warm but his voice was icy cold. 'But I also didn't want to leave Fred all alone.'

'He's one of seven, he's hardly a –'

'You're not a twin; you wouldn't understand. Then there was the job.'

'– lone … What? What job?'

'Well, this place needs four house ghosts but Slytherin doesn't exist any more, so the Bloody Baron's out of a job, creating a vacancy. Not forever, of course, just temporarily, until a member of the new house dies and can take over. Fred and I will be together again, one day.' George winked at his double.

Moody gazed from George to Neville, then Susan and, finally, Snape as silence stretched between them. 'You said Lestrange tried to kill you.'

Snape's head moved fractionally.

'What happened to her?'

Neville and Susan suddenly looked nervous.

'She's no longer a problem,' Lupin volunteered. 'And that's all we can tell you. Even though there are no bodies as proof, trust me when I say that Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew have been dealt with. Permanently.' The steely tone made it clear that the matter was not open for discussion.

Suddenly, the hospital doors burst open with a bang. Everyone jumped at the loudness of the sound. Turning, they saw Fudge marching up the centre of the ward, at least half a dozen serious-looking people bustling along behind him.

McGonagall stepped forwards, blocking his path.

'May I help you with something, Minister?'

Fudge's gaze ran over her, taking in the cuts and bandages. An indulgent grin spread across his face.

'The Ministry received a report that several illegal acts were being performed here.'

McGonagall looked momentarily stunned. 'Illegal acts? And just which illegal acts might these be?' She was fast recovering her usual strength. 'Death Eaters murdering innocent people, or You-Know-Who trying to destroy this school?'

Fudge looked like someone had hit a Bludger at his face at close range. 'You-Know-Who? Here? He can't have been here. How would he have gotten past the security?'

McGonagall was turning red like a kettle which was about to boil. 'You mean the security which packed up and went home as soon as the students had boarded the Hogwarts Express? The security which has been spying on Harry Potter's movements for the Ministry? Or did you only mean the two security members who turned out to be Death Eaters?'

'What?'

'If you check the Great Hall, you will find amongst the bodies both Horatio Plaxton and Connard Dawlish. Close inspection of their left arms will reveal that they have both been branded with the Dark Mark – the sign of a Death Eater.'

Fudge stared at McGonagall, his mouth hanging open. 'Who killed –?'

'One of the other Death Eaters hit Plaxton by mistake – he had actually been aiming at Kingsley Shacklebolt.' McGonagall hesitated, reluctant to continue.

'I killed Dawlish,' a cold voice spoke from the far end of the ward. 'He had just killed Shacklebolt and was about to kill Professor McGonagall.'

Fudge's jaw dropped lower as he gaped at Snape.

'You?' He gazed, stunned, from Snape to McGonagall and back again, three times, his mouth becoming slacker by the minute. With a visible effort, he straightened up and pulled himself together.

'I don't know what sort of school you think you've been running here,' he addressed McGonagall, 'but the nonsense stops now.' He pulled a small scroll of parchment and a quill from his cloak, as well as his wand which he jabbed almost absentmindedly in Snape's direction. McGonagall made a grab at Fudge's wand as Snape flicked his own, deflecting Fudge's spell.

As one, the men who had arrived with the Minister began casting spells at Snape. He succeeded in deflecting four of them, but the other two hit their mark. With a thud, Snape toppled to the floor, bound tightly from head to toe with thick ropes, his wand pressed uselessly against his side.

Lupin made a sudden movement, but pulled up as the six wands shifted to point menacingly at him while Fudge scribbled something on the scroll before making it vanish with his wand.

McGonagall backed away from the wall of wands. 'Who did you just summon?'

'A couple of Dementors,' said Fudge offhandedly. 'I noticed some on my way in.'

'And you really think they'll follow your orders?' Lupin was also eyeing the Ministry staff. 'They've been devoted to Voldemort –' (shudders rippled through the ward) '– for two and a half years now.'

'What do you need two Dementors for?' George hovered through the end of Dumbledore's bed.

'One for that Death Eater, one for the were –'

Fudge looked across from Lupin and broke off when he realised exactly who had asked the question. 'What –?' His face lost its pompousness faster than a candle being snuffed as he first stared at George, then through him to Dumbledore's body stretched out on the bed behind him.

'How?' Fudge gazed around at his cohorts as if wanting one of them to explain what was going on, but they were too busy exchanging uncertain glances and pointing their wands shakily towards the new threat to notice. Still at a loss, he gazed back at McGonagall.

'How did Snape get Dumbledore's body out of his tomb?'

McGonagall's brows rose so high, they almost disappeared into her hairline. 'Professor Snape didn't remove Albus's body; Albus did that.'

Fudge looked even more lost. 'When?'

'During his funeral.' McGonagall's lips were pressed thinly together.

'But … how? He's been dead for a year –'

'He has only just died, Minister, I assure you!' Madam Pomfrey leant against the railing at the end of Harry's bed for support. 'You can come and feel him, if you like; he's still warm.'

Fudge turned towards her and checked mid-movement as he finally noticed Harry.

'Is he –?'

'Dead?' Lupin quietly completed the question. 'Yes.' He looked as though he was ageing before their eyes.

'How?'

'V-voldemort killed him,' Neville drew Fudge's attention his way.

'But … he was the Chosen One … he was supposed to destroy …'

'Neville is the one who killed Voldemort,' Lupin explained.

It took Fudge a moment to blink. 'He … what … Nev … but … he can't … he's not …'

Every person who had been in the Hallows was glaring angrily at Fudge.

'Did you just say He Who Must Not Be Named is dead?' One of the Ministry officials gaped at Lupin, his wand hanging limply by his side.

'Yes.'

'Not just diminished, like before?' asked another. 'He's properly dead?'

Lupin nodded again.

'How?' Several of them spoke together as they began exchanging glances, hope overcoming their uncertainty.

'Yes, I think we'd all like to know the details.'

'Why, so you can get your facts straight when you claim the credit for yourself?' George leant against a bed and fell backwards through it. 'This is going to take some getting used to,' he grunted as his head popped up through the mattress; Myrtle giggled over in the corner as the ward doors opened again.

Fudge turned, his expression suggesting he clearly thought it was the requested Dementors; he deflated again when he saw three goblins approaching, one of whom was looking very official and important, the other two carrying …

'How did you get Harry's Pensieve?' Hermione spoke for the first time since they had reached the sanctuary of the hospital wing.

The two goblins raised the Pensieve onto one of the few empty beds as Fudge continued to gape at them, totally at a loss for words. The head goblin removed two sealed phials from a pocket and approached Hermione, who shrank back against Fred. She glanced uncertainly at McGonagall, who looked as lost as her.

'It's all right, Hermione,' Lupin's quiet voice broke the silence. 'It's yours. The goblins are never wrong about what property belongs to whom.'

Still looking unsure, Hermione reluctantly accepted the phial the goblin was offering to her.

Relieved of its first burden, the goblin then turned his attention to Snape.

'What could Potter possibly wish to say to me?' Snape eyed the phial with suspicion. 'Are you certain it is not meant for …' he cast around for a more likely candidate, '… Lupin, perhaps?'

'We were given strict instructions that this memory was to be delivered to a Professor Severus Snape in the event of the holder's death. You are Professor Severus Snape, are you not?' The goblin's eyes roamed over Snape with a penetrating look. 'Or have you falsified the records you hold at Gringotts bank?'

Snape's eyes pierced the goblin with a withering glare as he snatched the phial from him and broke the seal, impatiently emptying it into the Pensieve.

After a quick swill of the contents, they rose to form the shape of an old man with extremely long white hair and beard. Peering over the top of a pair of half-moon spectacles as he span slowly, Albus Dumbledore's quiet voice filled the suddenly silent ward.

'Good day, Severus.' The moustache twitched ever so slightly. 'I promise I shall not take up too much of your time, but there are a few things which need to be said before you begin to get on with the rest of your life.

'Firstly, do not mourn for me. I have lived a very eventful and, for the most part, happy life and would not wish for one day more. It is high time the space I occupied was vacated that others may have a little extra air to breathe.

'As I told Minerva, it is my wish to be buried at Hogwarts; that way I can continue to watch over the students of this fine establishment. My tomb has been laying in wait for a year now and it is time it was filled. I only ask that my interment this time be a quiet, private matter attended by immediate friends … and no one else. I certainly do not wish it to turn into the circus which my first burial inspired.

'And now I come to the most important thing which I have to say to you.

'You are possibly the most gifted potions brewer ever to walk through Hogwarts' doors. You have a natural understanding of the underlying science of your chosen craft and it is my wish that you put your talents to good use.

'I have instructed Gringotts bank to transfer all of my remaining estate to your good self to enable you to engage in study and research to discover and effect a permanent cure for lycanthropy. You may believe that Remus Lupin is not worthy of your assistance, but he did not ask Fenrir Greyback to infect him with this curse and, whatever your feelings towards him, you have offered Remus assistance previously and shall do so again, no matter how grudgingly. Of all the Potions experts on this planet, I feel the one with sufficient knowledge, intuition, instinct and imagination to reverse this affliction is you, Severus, whether you like to admit it to yourself or not.

'No one knows better than you just how much harm has been done by the evil spread by Tom Riddle and his associates and there is much to be repaired. Curing lycanthropy is only the start of the good which you have it in yourself to do. With luck, and a little faith in yourself, you may even be able to restore the Longbottoms to full health. Only time will tell. The rest is up to you, but I do not doubt you for a second.

'That is my legacy to you: use your talents to help those less fortunate to improve their lives, but also do not forget to live yourself. And do not allow Rowena Ravenclaw's line to die with you.

'Although there have been times when my disappointment in your choices has been quite bitter, for the most part I have enjoyed knowing you and shall always treasure our friendship. Live a long, happy, fruitful life.

'Until we meet again, my friend. Good bye and good luck.'

With a last twitch of the white moustache and twinkle from those pale blue eyes, Dumbledore's image spun slowly and sank back into the swirling depths from which it had risen.

The only sound as Dumbledore melted back into the surface of the Pensieve was a quiet sniff from Hermione. She looked at the bottle the goblin had given to her, confused. 'What would Dumbledore want to say to me?'

'What makes you think it's from Dumbledore?' asked Lupin quietly.

Hermione sniffed louder. Suddenly she didn't want to open that bottle. If it was a farewell from Harry, she didn't think she could face it; it would somehow make what just happened in the Hallows that much more real.

Impatiently, Snape snatched the bottle from her and pulled the stopper, but got no further because Lupin had covered Snape's hand with his own.

'If you don't mind,' he said with a sigh. 'I was friend to both his father and godfather – I'll do it.' And with a sad look on his face, he slowly emptied the bottle into the Pensieve and began swilling the contents. Up out of the basin rose a young man with dark, unkempt hair and glasses. Spinning slowly, Harry Potter began to speak.

'Hi Ron, Hermione.' He nodded greetings, a sad smile on his face. 'If you are witnessing this, then it means that I'm dead.'

Hermione gave another sob. Fred hugged her tighter.

Harry continued. 'I've made this memory because I have a few instructions for you, and I think you will do a better job following them now that you know I'm dead than if I had given them to you just in case. I promise I won't take too long, then Hermione, you can stop holding your breath and get on with crying properly, and you, Ron, can finally punch something – preferably Malfoy.

'Firstly, don't mourn me for too long. You haven't really known me for very long – less than half your lives – and if you live to be seventy, then seven years isn't very long at all.

'Secondly, I'd like to be buried with my parents. McGonagall probably wants to bury me at Hogwarts as some kind of emblem or something, but I'm not Dumbledore, I didn't give my life to Hogwarts, and I didn't die defending the school. I died doing what I was born to do.

'Thirdly, my will is in my parents' vault at Gringotts. It lists what I want done with all of my possessions, and because I am legally a man, the Ministry can't seize them. It is a fairly unwieldy document with special charms upon it to make sure that it is followed to the letter; but I feel I should explain why I have done certain things.

'Ron: you and Professor Lupin are to share my gold. Ron, since you have your whole life ahead of you so you have time to earn more, you can have my parents' gold, and Professor Lupin can have the gold Sirius left to me seeing as he has less time to save for his retirement. Both of you are hard-working and worthy of great rewards and should be a lot richer than you are but, because of the prejudices of those less worthy than you, you have both been forced to endure hardships neither of you deserve. This is a long overdue boost and my chance to thank you for your friendship and support.

'I hope, Ron and Hermione, that you don't mind that I'm not leaving Sirius's house to you. It is to be sold – you might get a decent offer out of Fred and George – and the money given to Professor Snape to fund his research to find a cure for lycanthropy, and also to restore Mr and Mrs Longbottom to full health. Some good should come out of the actions of Sirius's family.' Snape and Lupin exchanged surprised glances.

'Professor Lupin can have those Defence Against the Dark Arts books he and Sirius gave me; I think he'll be needing them. The job should be safe now that Voldemort is definitely gone. And tell McGonagall that if Professor Trelawney was correct and Hogwarts needs a new Herbology teacher, I can think of the perfect man for that job too – but, of course, these are only suggestions. I'm not headmaster and never will be.'

He sighed. 'Do I have any regrets dying before I even turned eighteen? Yeah, a few.' He shrugged.

'I regret that I won't get to become an Auror and hunt down the rest of Voldemort's Death Eaters; I'm kind of sorry I won't get to find out how I went with my NEWTs, though I'm pretty sure I managed an O for Defence at least. I also regret that I didn't live long enough to see Neville continue the Gryffindor line.' (Hermione gasped.)

'But my biggest regret is that I won't get to be best man at your wedding, or godfather to your children. Tell them about me, even show them my memories of the three of us (I've left you several bottles), but most of all,' he grinned cheekily, 'name your first son after me.

'I've enjoyed the adventures we've had together, and shall always treasure our friendship. Live long, happy, fruitful lives until we meet again, and remember: I didn't live a short life; I lived a long life, six years longer than I should have, because of two extraordinary, loving people named Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.'

And with a wink and a final smile, Harry's memory sank back into the Pensieve like Dumbledore before him.