A Stranger in an Unholy Land

by serpant-sorcerer

PART I: Days before his 6th year, Harry Potter is sucked into another universe by forces not of this world. Dazed and confused, Harry finds himself in a world where his parents are alive, where Voldemort has never fallen and he is Voldemort's key enforcer

16. Who Dares Wins Pt2

Thirty minutes are all that remain before Voldemort is proclaimed ruler of Britain, and from there, nothing can stop him. Our heroes have but half an hour to pull off their daring plan. However, everything hinges on Harry being able to defeat the most powerful Dark wizard in centuries. In one of life's little ironies, as Harry fights for the light, the only thing that can save him are the powers of the Dark Knight. When all is said and done, when the dust settles, who will stand victorious and will they ever be the same again?

WARNING: This chapter contains continuous violence, gore and moderate language. If you are easily offended, do not read on. You have been warned.

Chapter XVI

Who Dares Wins

Pt. 2

"Everything that has a beginning has an end.
I see the end coming.
I see the darkness spreading, I see death.
And you are all that stands in his way.
Very soon, he is going to have the power to destroy this world.
But I believe he won't stop there; he can't.
He won't stop until there's nothing left at all.
One way or another, this war is going to end,
Tonight, the future of both worlds will be in your hands
Or in his."

The Oracle The Matrix Revolutions

"NOW!" shouted Frank as he pocketed the card. Not wasting a second, he launched the broom forward, zooming off into the bay. The waves were splashing over his boots as he skimmed over the sea towards the base of the cliff on the far side of the bay, where a staircase had been cut into the rock. The bay shielded them from the wind as they zipped across the waves, giving them a break from the icy chill that had assaulted their robes around the corner. The group was visible to people on the cliff-top, but it didn't matter at this point; hugging the cliffs would take too much time, and the Death Eaters would see them coming. Anyway, Muggles were stupid and would put it down to shadows, giant sea-guls or refracted light reflecting off fish under the water. Frank couldn't fathom how Muggles believed such shite, and quickly forced the thought from his mind.

His eyes were honed on the bottom of the rock staircase. It was a long flat area of rock at the base of the cliff, stretching out five metres into the bay like a small jetty to which a small boat could dock. A staircase rose up from that for perhaps ten metres or so before it disappeared into the cliff itself. Frank could see that the jetty was slick with seaweed and knew that landing would be difficult, not to mention dangerous.

To his horror as he skimmed over the waves, Frank caught sight of two figures in robes at the entrance to the bunker having a cigarette. There was no way they could approach undetected from the sea; in fact as Frank watched, one of the men caught sight of the incoming brooms and pointed, his eyes wide in surprise. Within a second both of the sentries were staring at the incoming armada. Frank hesitated for a second. They were sitting ducks! There was nowhere to land, nowhere to hide, and they could not abort. It was the jetty or nothing.

Suddenly a jet of red light shot past Frank's ear. One of the Death Eaters had fired a curse at them, which Frank hadn't been expecting. Luckily, the curse missed. Frank whipped his head around to make sure the others were all right. Fortunately, no one had been hit, though some appeared to have scattered. Frank turned back to the cliff just in time to see a flash of green light zooming towards him. His life flashed before his eyes, as he saw the curse very late - it was almost on him before even he saw it. Acting instinctively, Frank wrenched the broom to his left, rolling with the tilt. In desperation to escape the curse, he leaned a little to far, and with the dead weight of the soldier behind him, almost lost control of the broom. His elbow scratched the surface of the wave at high speed, spraying salt water up into Frank's face and eyes. Gasping in surprise, he blinked and shook his head, trying to regain his sight. He wiped his eyes, just in time to see another get of green light shooting towards him. He felt the power of the curse as it passed him, sending a chill down his spine and making his legs tremble. He had burst into a cold sweat from his near death experience. He managed to get level again, thirty metres from the jetty. The men were shouting up the stairs, trying to raise the alarm, as they launched yet another curse at the incoming armada of brooms.

Phht! Phht!

A muffled spit sounded behind him. Frank's head whipped around at the sound. He found himself staring at the corporal sat behind him, his arm outstretched, a pistol aimed at the entrance thirty metres away. Phht! The pistol fired again, right before Frank's eyes. Turning back to his target, Frank saw that one of the men was no longer standing; he was lying in an unnatural position, while the other gazed in shock at his fallen comrade, his jaw low and his wand arm hanging limply at his side. The distraction was long enough. In another second, Frank pulled his broom alongside the jetty, his feet touching down on the slippery rock. He levelled his wand at the Death Eater and with a single word, launched the sentry off his feet in a jet of red light and slammed him brutally into the wall.

XXXXX

Ginny landed as gracefully as she could on the slippery rock now covered with seaweed. Her trainers had no traction as she dismounted the broom, and in less than a second she was on her arse on the cold wet rock. She ignored the icy winter water soaking into the trousers she wore, as she began to scramble over the slippery carpet of slimy seaweed using her frostbitten hands to steady herself. She had nearly been hit by an incoming curse, and had escaped by a hair's breadth. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, and chills shot up and down her spine. She had come so close to death with that last curse, only narrowly having avoided it. It had passed so close to her head that it she had felt a chill run down her spine as it had passed. It was a shocking reminder of how real this was.

As Ginny managed to find her balance, she looked over to where Frank Longbottom was hovering with the Muggle behind him. The two of them dismounted to join Ginny on the rocks, except they managed to stay upright.

Ginny slipped again landing on her knee. Ignoring the pain, she got up and managed the remaining three paces to bare rock, on which she could stand steadily, more or less. The Muggle soldier was on his feet; he approached the fallen figure of the Death Eater who had been shot, his gun outstretched in front of him, aimed at the fallen man. Ginny had never seen anyone shot before; she had seen blood in many classes and on the train back in September, which seemed an eternity ago, but nothing like this. She felt her stomach tighten and a little bit of sick make its way up her throat as she saw the fallen figure lying on the ground, a puddle of dark blood seeping out from beneath him. Wands were so humane, while the gun had left him to die slowly. The corporal paused for a second, leaning over the body with his pistol levelled at the man's head. Using the tip of his boot, the soldier rolled the man onto his back. From here, Ginny could see the body more clearly. She hadn't heard the shot go off as they were flying, but the effect was clear: the bullet had hit him in his lower belly. The man was lying on his back in a pool of blood, coughing and gurgling as the thick red liquid made its way up his throat, as well as flowing out of his stomach. His breathing was short and sharp, with the added gurgling due to the blood. Ginny would never forget his eyes. They were deep blue and filled with fear. They stared desperately out from under his eyebrows, dotted with drops of sea water. Those eyes were begging someone to help him, to make the pain stop. Those eyes stared past Ginny's into her soul, and for a moment she pitied him.

The corporal on the other hand didn't; he paused for a second before raising the pistol to the man's head.

Surely he wasn't going to…her thought was cut short as the soldier pulled the trigger once more.

Phht!

Ginny cringed as the Death Eater's head erupted in a surge of blood. The bullet struck home in the forehead, leaving the eyes wide open and staring over towards Ginny, giving the body a pale and haunted look. Magical killing was much cleaner, but it was still something students should not see. Ginny glanced at the students around her, all of whom stared at the lifeless and bloody corpse that used to be a man. Katie had her hand over her mouth, while Cho seemed to be swaying and looked like she was about to be sick. There had been no need for that! Thought Ginny, her anger growing. They could have helped him, saved him. He didn't need to be executed.

"What the Hell was that for?" challenged Ginny angrily, glowering at the soldier. "He was already down."

"The bullet was in his liver," said the corporal emotionlessly, his dark eyes fixed on Ginny. "Nothing could save him; I put him out of his misery."

"Magical medicine could have saved him," said Ginny indignantly. He was so ignorant of their world. They didn't need him here. Harry should never have sent him with them. They didn't need a monster on their team!

"Weasley!" Longbottom attempted to silence her, but she was too angry. She ignored the Auror, and continued to glare at the soldier, her hand gripping her wand tightly.

"You didn't need to spray his brains all over the bloody cliff," snapped Ginny, her eyes seething.

"Are any of you doctors?" the corporal asked her, again keeping all emotion buried, and not looking the slightest bit intimidated by her rage. Ginny paused, knowing the answer and seeing where the argument was going. "Exactly," said the corporal in her silence. "He had twenty minutes to live, to suffer. I saved him that. Anyhow, he was a killer, as Frank has said. The world is better off without him." How could he be so cold? Ginny was sure Harry had made a mistake by recruiting these people. She had no idea that the soldier was thinking the exact same thing about her.

Frank silenced any further protests from the others with a glare, and then turned his attention to the staircase of stone, rising up from the jetty into the cliff. Ginny turned back to the corporal, who had knelt by the Stunned Death Eater. Surely he wasn't going to execute him, too? He possibly had a point with the dying man, but this would be execution.

Ginny watched as the soldier reached into his pocket. She gripped her wand, ready to stun him if he did; too many were going to have to die today already. They had no time or need for more killing. To her relief, he removed a short plastic strip about ten inches long and half an inch wide. He wrapped it about the man's wrists behind his back, binding him tight. It was one of those tags that could not come undone without being cut. The more he struggled, the tighter it would get. Ginny's father had brought some home once. Fred and George had had great fun with them; crucifying Ron to the rafters in the loft had been a highlight.

His task complete, Dixon stood up and removed his anorak. Underneath he was dressed in black, just like his companions with Harry. He wore black coveralls, with Kevlar body armour over his chest, which was covered with pockets holding equipment.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a helmet and gasmask, which he pulled over his face; it made him seem inhuman face and hiding all signs of emotion. It was a haunting face. Dixon pulled an electric torch out of his pocket, turned it on, and levelled it in front of him, while resting the gun on top of it so it lit where he aimed. "Ready," he announced to Frank. The Auror gazed around, checking that everyone else was ready. Ginny could see the others with their wands out, ready to go. As she turned, she saw that one of them was behind. Cho was looking paler than ever; she was standing over the body of the Death Eaters, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes wide.

"Come on," said Frank, glancing back from his position at the base of the steps, presumably to see what was keeping them. "No time to lose!" He seemed impatient as he aimed his wand light up the stairs into the tunnel. Ginny gestured for the others to follow while she went back for Cho.

"Hey," she said gently, resting a hand on Cho's shoulder. The poor girl was shaking uncontrollably, her eyes wide with terror as she stared at the fallen body, tears streaming silently down her cheeks.

"He's dead," she whispered, apparently in shock. "I can see….so much blood." She was deathly pale and her eyes were vacant. "So much blood."

"Come on!" hissed Frank from behind her. As Ginny looked over, she could see the others lined up against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Ginny glanced from the others to Cho to the body and then back to Cho.

"She's in shock!" Ginny called back to Frank. "She needs to return to Hogwarts."

"What?" hissed Frank, rolling his eyes. His lack of pity annoyed Ginny, but she didn't say anything. "Fine, activate her Portkey," ordered Frank. It was the first decision the adults had made that Ginny one hundred percent agreed with. She reached into Cho's pocket, and pulled out a small, silver tea-spoon; something Aunt Marge happened to have to hand. She thrust it into Cho's hand and tapped it with her wand.

"Activate!"

Cho disappeared with a pop, safely back to the Hospital Wing. Ginny paused for a second, partially envying Cho, before scrambling over the rock to rejoin the others.

"She was in shock," said Frank to them all, again with no hint of pity. Ginny managed to control her anger with him knowing that they were wasting time. "I know none of you have seen stuff like this before," continued Frank, "but it will only get worse. I need all of you to be sure you can handle it." He paused for a few seconds, but no one spoke. The others were determined to go through with this. Ginny felt a sense of pride in the DA at his point. Even Frank seemed grateful. Although he hadn't quite managed to sound sincerely sympathetic to them in his pep-talk, he had a point, and it had succeeding in spurring on the DA. Ginny could see them set their jaws firmly, as they prepared to enter the cliff.

"Follow me, and stay against the wall," said Frank, turning back to the stairs. "Any sign of movement, hug the wall and stay out of sight." He stepped up onto the first step of the staircase and then a second later darted up the next twelve steps to the entrance to the cliff. Dixon, too, darted across the stairs and up onto the other side opposite Frank. He gestured for them to follow; Ginny dashed across to join the corporal. There was a burning torch on the wall, casting a dim light up the stairs, and another at the top, casting light downwards. After above ten metres of rock, the walls became metal. Thick metal pipes ran the length of the walls and ceiling and disappeared into the shadows. There were other flaming torches along the way, giving the corridor an eerie orange glow. It was much like how Ginny imagined Hell would look.

"Follow me," said Frank, beginning to climb the stairs, his wand stretched out before him, ready to be used. The corporal advanced one pace behind and to the right of Frank, his gun levelled at the top of the stairs. Their footsteps echoed as they climbed, though they tried to tiptoe. To Ginny, even her breathing sounded incredibly loud; her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she was sure everyone could hear it. Frank was right - this was no place for students. Merlin, she thought panicking, there could be someone at the top of the stairs waiting. What if the guards had alerted the others? There could be hundreds of Death Eaters. They could be waiting for them! This could be a trap! What would the Death Eaters do if they caught them? Kill them? Torture them? Get a grip on yourself, Ginny! She tried to shake her fears from her mind, but could not rid herself of the voice of doubt at the back of her mind. This was no place for children. However, this was all they had so they had to go through with it. Ginny just hoped that no one else caved like Cho did. Taking a deep breath and trying to forget her worries, she took another step forward, willing her shaking legs to keep moving.

They had almost reached the top when they heard a sound up ahead. A soft scraping noise echoed down the metal passage. Footsteps were coming along the corridor! Ginny was sure of it. Merlin, they had been discovered! They are for it now. What would happen to them? Calm down, stupid girl!

There was a splash as the man trod in a puddle of water in the passage. Ginny remembered what she had been told and instantly pressed her back to the wall, trying to keep out of sight. Frank extinguished the nearest torch, plunging this section of the stairs into darkness. The whole team tried to hide in the shadows, but it was no good. As the man reached the top of the stairs, his eyes fell on the team, his face turning to one of horror, but he never had time to warn anyone.

"STUPEFY!" shouted six voices at once; the man never knew what hit him. He was blasted against the wall by six curses. He bounced off the wall, landing face first on the stone steps, and then began to roll. There was a long procession of thuds, growing softer as he rolled further away down the stairs. If the Stunners wore off - and the chances of six doing so were remote - the head injuries of the stairs would keep him out of the way. Ginny was just relieved that it hadn't been the corporal who had silenced him. Ginny realised her fists were clenched and she was sweating. Her spine was tingling, her heart pounding and her knees weak from the shock. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself. It was terrible so frightening, but at the same time so exciting. Her mind was racing, a surge of emotion hitting her at once.

"Ok, just relax," said the corporal to Anthony, who seemed to be breathing as hard as Ginny. "It's over now. Just breathe." Ginny stood upright and looked ahead along the corridor. She hoped Anthony could pull it together, as they needed everyone they had. That was three enemies down, but there could be as many as ten left, if Frank's estimate of thirteen was accurate. She had no idea how he came up with the number.

"Okay," said the corporal to Frank. He was standing next to Anthony with a hand on his shoulder. "He's ready." Ginny turned back to Frank, who was staring ahead, down the passage, with his wand at the ready. Luckily there were no more stairs, as Ginny's legs were knackered. Hermione was also sweating as she stood on the opposite side of the passage from Ginny. It was good to see her again, but they had had no time to really talk, as time had been so short last night. They also would not have any time now: with Anthony ready again, Frank had started moving forward into the passage.

The flaming torches on the walls lit the way for them; the flickering shadows were creepy. Ginny's eyes couldn't adapt to the darkness with all the torches so she couldn't see more than twenty metres in front of her. They crept along the passageway as silently as possible, keeping their wands levelled in front of them. After fifty metres the passage came to a junction; there was another passage going off to the left. It went for about ten metres with a door on the right at the end. A few metres further along the passage they were in to begin with, was a door on the left. Both doors must lead to the same room if Ginny had memorised the plans correctly. During the Muggle War this had been a sort of staff-room for those manning the radar station. Ginny had no idea what radar was, but according to Hermione it was there to detect German planes, ships and submarines coming in from the Atlantic and Normandy. The staff-room was connected with water and gas according to the schematics, which indicated a kitchen according to the Muggle captain. This was the most likely place to find Death Eaters. Frank paused at the junction and turned back to face them. Silently, he pointed to each of them and then a direction, indicating which door to take. Ginny took the door down the passage to the left. With her was the Muggle corporal, Hermione, Susan and Hannah.

They lined up outside the door, with Dixon and Ginny at the front. Her heart was pounding, as she pressed her back against the cold metal wall. She was sweating profusely, and her knees felt oddly weak. Her stomach was tight and her hands so sweaty it was hard to grip her wand. How had Harry lived like this for so long, dealing with this day in and day out?

"Okay, Dixon, on my count," hissed Frank around the corner. "Three…" Ginny watched as the corporal pulled a small metal cylinder out of his pocket and removed a pin from the top. He kept it gripped firmly in his hand.

"…two…"

Ginny took a deep breath and raised her wand ready. This was what they had trained for; this was it!

"…one!"

The corporal opened the door just a tad and rolled in the cylinder. There was a metallic thud as it landed, and a shuffle from inside before a loud crack as the device went off. Ginny saw the reflection of a bright flash on the metal of the corridor and could detect a faint burning smell. Dixon moved in a flash, raising his gun to the door and then his boot. He gave the door a hard kick and it flew open. He disappeared through without any hesitation and Ginny followed, hot on his heels without thinking. Instantly she knew what the burning was. The cylinder had filled the area with smoke, as well as disorientated the Death Eaters. She could see several figures in black moving in the smoke. The brightly coloured anoraks, while unconventional, made it easy for them to spot each other. To one side was a small kitchen, in which one man was standing. From the spilt coffee it appeared he had been pouring himself a drink. There was a table in the middle around which four more were playing a game of what looked like poker.

Ginny barely had time to register this before Frank smashed in the other door, which swung back with a loud clang into the wall.

"Freeze!" shouted Frank, moving into the room, the other students entering behind him, their wands raised and ready. All five of the Death Eaters turned to face Frank, surprise written all over their faces. They were frozen in place, suddenly surrounded by an odd ensemble of enemies. They wore full uniform, complete with masks. They would probably be bringing Dumbledore to the Ministry in half an hour to be executed, and so were in uniform.

"Keep your hands where I can see them!" ordered Dixon, approaching the man in the kitchen, his gun levelled at the man's head. Ginny watched with her peripheral vision while keeping an eye on those at the table, making sure no one moved. This was easier than she had thought. They would hold them at wand-point, while Frank arrested them. Simple. What was all the fuss about?

"Put the bottle down!" ordered Dixon, approaching the Death Eater in the kitchen. The man in the kitchen looked terrified as Dixon approached, clearly unfamiliar with the obviously dangerous object Dixon was threatening him with. His hands shaking, he tried to put the bottle of milk down on the work surface, but because he was so scared, he missed. There was a moment, a split second before it happened that Ginny knew it was going to happen, but she was too far away to help. The glass bottle slid out of the man's hand, and in slow motion, it seemed, sailed downwards towards the floor, shattering as it landed.

CRASH!

The corporal reacted to the crash in an instant, pulling the trigger. There was a spit and the Death Eater's head whipped back, spraying the wall with red as his body dropped like a sack of potatoes. That was enough of a distraction for them to give the other Death Eaters time. One of them upturned the table, using it as a shield, while the other three drew their wands, taking cover behind the upturned table.

Ginny reacted almost as fast as Frank, aiming a curse at the Death Eaters. She tried to ignore the spray of red in the kitchen, now running down the walls. Her curse missed the Death Eater, hitting the wood of the table and splintering it. Frank had sent a similar curse, which sailed just wide of the table and went on to hit the wall.

The largest of the Death Eaters didn't even need to use magic to hurl the table at Frank. His immense bulk was enough on its own, and the hard wooden table was launched through the air, towards the Auror. Ginny couldn't help but watch the table fly by, even though she knew she should be watching the other Death Eaters.

"REDUCTO!" shouted the Auror, just as Ginny aimed a stunner at one of the Death Eaters. Whoever he was easily blocked her stunner and sent another one back so quickly that Ginny was forced to dive to one side, unable to cast a shield in time. There was a load crack as the wooden table was smashed to pieces in mid-air under Frank's curse, right above where Ginny had rolled. She covered her face as splinters and shards of split wood rained down on her. Her arms protected her face, as Hannah and Susan, who had appeared behind Ginny, shot two simultaneous spells over her head at the Death Eater. His shield snapped effortlessly into place, repelling both curses. Ginny stared up at the giant Death Eater, and beyond him to the ceiling where there was a strip light. An idea formed in her mind.

"Reducto!"

Her spell shot passed the Death Eater, who sneered at her. "You missed!"

The spell tore the bracket out of the ceiling at one end, causing the heavy glass rod to swing downwards, smashing over the back of the skull of the giant Death Eater. The impact on his head was enough to distract him. Three shouts of 'Stupefy' followed as Ginny, Hannah and Susan all together fired the Stunning Charm at the man, who couldn't raise a shield in time. The combination of three curses was enough to launch the Death Eater clean off his feet and slam him into the kitchen wall. A cabinet's brackets broke under his impact, so as he bounded off and fell to the floor, landing painfully face first onto the tiled floor, a cupboard full of glassware came crashing down on top of him, burying his head.

Suddenly Ginny felt hands grab her shoulders and hoist her to her feet. She looked up to see Susan and Hannah helping her. Girl Power! The three of them had taken down a Death Eater. That should show Frank that they were not useless, but it still left three Death Eaters still standing.

Ron and Hermione together had cornered another, smaller Death Eater, though he was not giving up lightly and it seemed that the two of them were taking a beating. Hermione sidestepped a curse elegantly, replying with one of her own. Ron shot another curse at the Death Eater who spun away, blocking Hermione's curse as he did so, sending it shooting back towards her. This time, unprepared, she jumped to the side, her back hitting the wall as she did so, cornering her. The curse missed, but she was in range of the Death Eater who grabbed her by the throat, slamming her head back into the wall.

She yelped in pain as her head hit the steel. Her wand fell from her grip as the Death Eater slammed her into the wall. Ron roared with fury and, forgetting his wand, dived at the Death Eater, who was in fact shorter than he was. Ron jumped onto his back, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and squeezing, his face contorted in rage. Had Harry been right and he did have a soft spot for Granger? Ginny didn't know, but she ran forward to help. The Death Eater released Hermione, who slid down the wall and lay on the floor, groaning and raising a hand to her head. The Death Eater screamed in rage and thrashed his arms about, spinning his torso in an effort to dislodge Ron, who held him so tightly around the shoulders that his wand arm was useless. He swung again, unable to break free of Ron's lanky arms. Ginny was sure that under the mask, the Death Eater would be turning purple as Ron choked the air out of him. Grunting in fury, he thrust his body backwards, slamming poor Ron into the wall, his back connecting sharply with the wall. Ron cried out in pain, but to his credit he hung on. Hermione had recovered by this time and found her wand, just as Ginny reached them.

"RON, LET GO!" she shouted. Her brother looked up for a second before releasing the Death Eater and diving out of the way as both Ginny and Hermione shot stunners at the Death Eater. The man was slammed into the wall by the force of the curses. He slid slowly dow,; finishing in a sitting position with his head slumped to the side. As he landed, his mask fell aside, revealing the familiar face of Marcus Flint.

There was a howl from the kitchen. Ginny looked up from helping Hermione to her feet. Dixon was physically wrestling with one of the Death Eaters. The man had pinned the corporal down. His feet were on the floor, but his back was bent over the work surface, and his shoulders were pinned down. The Death Eater had his hands around Dixon's throat, and he seemed to have dropped the gun or been disarmed. Ginny daren't try to curse him in case she hit the corporal. Hermione, on the other hand, was more shrewd. She raised her wand to the kitchen. As Ginny watched, the cupboard flew open, raining cups and saucers down on the startled Death Eater. The soldier reached into the fruit bowl by the sink, grabbing half a grapefruit in the process, and then, in a highly undignified move, thrust the fruit into the man's face, smearing grapefruit into the man's eyes. The Death Eater recoiled, rubbing his eyes and screaming. Dixon grabbed a rolling pin from the pot of kitchen tools and swung at the man's head.

He staggered backwards under the impact, right into a Stunner from Hannah Abbott, who was trying to help Dixon. The Death Eater fell to the floor with a crash, leaving just one remaining.

Frank was in the corner with the final Death Eater. The two of them were throwing curses back and forth incredibly quickly. Ginny couldn't keep track of the fight. She raised her wand to take aim, but he and Frank were circling so fast there was no room for a spell. Cursing, Ginny lowered her wand.

"Hey… what's…?" said a voice behind her as the door opened again. Ginny froze in horror as two more Death Eaters entered the room. It took but a second's hesitation before their wands were raised and ready. Ginny conjured a shield instantly as a curse left the wand of the first newcomer. The curse impacted in the centre of her shield, making it ring like a gong and pound in her ears as she was launched off her feet, shield and all, and across the room.

Coloured blobs burst across her vision as she landed. Coughing from the dust and smoke that filled the air, she sat back up, trying to shake the disorientation from her mind. Almost instantly Granger was at her side, offering her a hand to get up. Ginny took Hermione's hand, grateful of the support. Hermione pulled as Ginny tried to clamber to her feet but she never made it. Hermione's arm went limp as she screamed. Her body whipped backwards as a purple curse hit her back, sending her collapsing to the floor in a shower of purple sparks.

"NO!" screamed Ginny. Hermione's eyes rolled upwards into her head, and her eyelids closed, as she fell, seemingly in slow motion to the ground, falling at an unnatural angle. Granger had been hit! Ginny felt her stomach tighten and a shiver envelop her body; Hermione Granger was dead.

Suddenly there was a Death Eater standing over her, the newcomer who had cursed her. Ginny's eyes grew wide in terror as the man raised his wand high above his head, bearing down on Ginny. He brought it slashing down, roaring some sort of spell, his face contorted with rage as his arm sailed downward. Ginny was unable to move through fear. Hermione was dead and she was now about to join her.

There was a sudden spit and a small red hole exploded out of the Death Eater's chest, cascading crimson down his front and splattering Ginny with warm blood. The warm, sticky liquid touched her lips and she caught a faint coppery taste. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened and closed, unable to understand what had happened as she lay there dripping in blood that was not her own. The man's face turned to one of utter shock and fear as he stared past Ginny to something behind her. Ginny turned, her whole body shaking, to see what had scared the Death Eater so. Her eyes fell on a figure dressed all in black and carrying a small black pistol.

Phht! Phht!

Dixon fired twice more, and Ginny felt the warm splatter rain down on her again, followed by a thud. She turned back to see the Death Eater lying in a puddle of his own blood, three holes in his chest and his eyes wide and vacant. Ginny didn't have time to scream or do anything else. Instantly a hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her roughly to her feet. She opened her mouth to complain, but she was dragged sharply to the side, into cover behind a kitchen cabinet, just as a curse blew apart a piece of the door. That had been close.

She looked up at Dixon, who was also hiding. "Thanks," she breathed. The soldier just nodded, his eyes still roaming the smoky room for targets. By rights there should be two more.

CRACK!

Another curse hit the woodwork they were hiding behind. Ginny shuddered as she felt the vibration.

"You can use the door as cover," said Dixon urgently. "And you can see more of the room from there. I'll cover you!" Ginny nodded and readied her wand as the corporal glanced around once more. "Go!" he hissed. Ginny turned back to thank the soldier again, but to her horror she saw a figure come out of the smoke, dressed in black robes and holding a wand.

"Get down!" she shouted, diving at the soldier and raising her wand to the Death Eater, who was preparing a spell.

"Sanctius!" said Ginny, snapping the small turquoise shield into place at the end of her wand. She pushed the standing corporal down to his knees, and stepped in front of him, holding the shield like an umbrella. She jabbed the small shield at the incoming curse, deflecting it away from herself and the corporal. The curse shot off, back towards the Death Eater who dived out of the way and disappeared into the smoke.

"Thanks," said Dixon, climbing to his feet and recovering his pistol.

"Now we're even," said Ginny, managing a small smile.

BOOM!

The whole room shook under the force of the blast. From somewhere down the passage an explosion had just gone off, sending vibrations throughout the steel bunker. If there was anyone who hadn't known they were under attack before, they certainly did now. Ginny's first thought was that it must be the Order with their explosives, but then again, they may have tripped a booby-trap. Were they all dead? Images of her friends with their legs blown off by a trap filled her mind. She quickly pushed the images away; she had to concentrate, as there were still two Death Eaters in the room. Frank was with one of them; while the other was roaming.

Ginny didn't think about the other man. She left Dixon and ran over to where Hermione had fallen. Kneeling beside her friend, Ginny pulled her body up onto her lap. Hermione's muscles were limp as Ginny pulled her and her skin was as cold as ice, and white with death. Ginny held Hermione in her arms, clutching her to her chest. The poor girl had only been trying to help and it had been horrid what had been done to her. Ginny felt tears rising in her eyes as she pulled Hermione tightly to her chest. As the first tear fell down her cheek, a shimmer of hope rose through her. For a second she thought she had felt a heartbeat as she held Hermione to her chest. Instantly she released her, pressing two fingers to the underside of her neck. There was a second's pause filled with nothing, before she felt the smallest throb of her vein. She had a pulse! Faint as Hell, but it was there! Hermione was not dead!

"GOT HIM!" shouted a voice. Ginny looked up to see Ron standing over the fallen body of the Death Eater who had nearly killed her. She suppressed a satisfied smirk and turned back to Hermione, leaving a Ron that couldn't believe his luck, standing over his fallen opponent. She was impressed and quite proud of him, but there were more pressing matters than congratulating him.

She pulled off her coat and rolled it into a pillow before sliding it under Hermione's head. She waved her wand over her body, casting a gentle heating charm. She was not a Healer and had no real idea what to do.

"ARGH!" There was a scream from the other side of the room. Ginny's heart skipped a beat; had they lost another student? There was a pause, and Ginny raised her wand ready. After a second, there came a shout from the other side of the room.

"Clear," announced Frank. The smoke had all but cleared, and Ginny could see him again. He had a cut above his right eye, but seemed okay. Ron also looked okay, though he wore a smug grin.

"Are you okay?" asked Frank. Ron nodded, unable to lose the smile. As the smock cleared, Ginny's brother caught sight of the fallen Granger. His smile vanished and he faced turned pale.

"Is she…?" he asked, rushing to Ginny's side. In a second they were all gathered around, staring down at the girl. She still looked like she was dead, but Ginny checked her neck again.

"She's alive," Ginny reassured them, "but barely".

"Send her to Pomfrey," ordered Frank, mopping his eyebrow with his sleeve and removing his anorak. Of course! Why hadn't Ginny thought of it sooner? That was the whole point of them carrying Portkeys! Cursing her stupidity, Ginny pulled the spoon out of Hermione's pocket and wrapped the girl's fingers around it. That done, she tapped it with her wand, and Hermione disappeared with a pop, leaving a still room. Ginny just hoped she was alright. She had taken a heftly looking curse to the back. Her body armour would have absorbed some of the impact, but not all of it.

There was a second's pause before Frank broke the silence.

"She'll be all right," he reassured them, though Ginny doubted he was genuinely concerned. "We have to keep going. Let's move out!"

Not waiting for confirmation, he marched towards the door and stuck his head out into the corridor. Looking around, the others looked tired and worn, but to their credit, they didn't complain as they hurried after Frank. Ginny felt a swell of pride. The DA had just survived its first battle. They were all alive, and the Death Eaters were down. All the hard work and late nights had paid off. Ginny hurried to join the others by the door. Frank stepped out into the corridor.

"After fifty metres, the passage opens out. It's one of the doors in that room," whispered Frank. "Remember we don't know how many are left so keep your eyes peeled. Whoever is at the back needs to make sure no one follows us." The corporal agreed to stay as the rear guard, his professional eyes knowing what to look for. Ginny stepped out into the corridor behind Frank as they crept along the passage. Her trainers made no sound as she crept, except when she accidentally trod in a puddle in the dimness.

Sure enough, there was light at the end of the tunnel and after fifty metres the passage opened up into a room. There were three large pipes above each other running along the left wall, while smaller ones ran out of the corridor they had been in and then up the far wall, through a balcony and off along another passage. The balcony was made of rusting metal and was at the top of a thirteen-rung ladder. There was a large cylindrical tank in one corner, with a puddle beneath it, and occasionally a drip descending to the floor with a plop. A large strip light was on the ceiling, casting bright light down into the room. There were large steel doors on each wall, behind one of which were the prisoners. The question was, which one?

"Wait here," said Frank. Obediently, Ginny knelt by the corner and gestured for the others to stop behind them in the passage. She raised her wand in readiness, as did Ron who stepped forward to take Frank's place. The Auror stepped out into the room, away from the safety of the passage. His wand was raised and his eyes darted around, looking for any sign of movement. His movements were slow and cautious as he edged towards the door on the far wall.

He reached the other wall in fifteen seconds and glanced back over to where Ginny was hiding. After a second, he lowered his wand and raised a hand, beckoning Ginny to come out to him.

"Okay, come…" he started, but he never finished.

He was cut short as the floor in front of him exploded in a flash of green light, showered debris all around the room. Frank dived to the side, rolling on his shoulder in an inch of stagnant water. He rolled over again into a cover behind the large cylindrical tank. Ginny glanced up at where the spell had come from. There was a Death Eater at the mouth of one of the tunnels up on the balcony. The man was using the rail for cover, and was bearing down on Frank.

"Reducto!" shouted a voice in Ginny's ear. Ron shot a spell up toward the man, but it only succeeded in hitting the wall, which absorbed it without even discolouring. The Death Eater flinched as the curse passed him, giving Frank the opportunity to peer out and shoot a stunner of his own up to the balcony. The spell missed. Ginny realised that the Death Eater was in an ideal position, almost impossible to hit due to the build and position of the balcony, but with a perfect view of them all.

Ginny ducked as a curse hit the wall by her head. How the Hell were they going to get out of this one? It was then that she saw movement behind the Death Eater.

XXXXX

Rachel pocketed the card and turned to Sirius Black. Katie Bell watched with wide eyes as Rachel gave Sirius the nod. It was time. Were they ready? wondered Katie. This was real and they could get hurt – or even killed. Her stomach clenched tight with anxiety and her head began to spin. She took a deep breath, but it only filled her lungs with the smell of stagnant water and rust. Trying to calm herself, she raised her wand and closed her eyes. She counted to three and then opened them again. Sirius Black stepped past Rachel into the tunnel, shining his wand down the passage. Katie's eyes were still accustomed to the light above, and could not make out anything, except for the white glow at the end of the tunnel. Presumably there were lights on at the room on the end of the passage. According to the plans, there was a storage cupboard on one side and the generator room on the other. Katie had only a basic idea of what a generator was, but Hermione has tried to describe one. She still didn't get it, but settled for the description 'it's a big machine that makes power for the lights'. Hermione had tried to explain electricity to her, but had failed.

Katie knew that this passage was an emergency exit and as such was not designed to be travelled often. It was very narrow and so if a Death Eater happened to look down the passage, they would be sitting ducks. She was sure the Aurors knew this too, but she didn't want to say anything out loud, in case it panicked the others. There was only just room for her to stand in the passage, without her shoulders touching the wall. The water on the floor made silence very hard and the fact that the top pipe on their left was red-hot and steaming in places where it had cracked, meant that they had to hug the right wall, for fear of getting burned. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she followed Seamus, who was behind Sirius.

Seamus crept forward behind Sirius, and Katie in turn followed him. She had met the Auror before, but it had been a long time ago. Her father had once been an Auror who had worked with Sirius, though it seemed like centuries ago. Her father had been killed in action five years ago. Katie could still remember the day when the messenger came from the Ministry to announce his death. She had been sitting in the lounge with her mother and then the messenger had come in. She would never forget. In one of life's little ironies, after promising she would not get caught up in this war, and that she would always be there for her mother, here she was playing 'Auror', risking her life for the others. Who would have thought it?

Sirius reached the end of the passage, where it widened into a passage wide enough to walk two people abreast. Looking over his and Seamus' shoulders, Katie could see this wider passage. It continued for ten metres until there was a set of metal shelves on the left. As they ended, there was a crossroad in the passage with the generator room on the right and the store on the left. She could remember the plan quite clearly.

This was it! Katie listened for any sign of movement, but the hum of the generator made it impossible; she just hoped that that meant no one could hear them coming. Sirius stepped cautiously out into the light and pressed his back against the wall. Seamus was right behind him and also kept close to the right-hand wall. Katie took a deep breath and stepped out into the light; she moved to stand against the wall next to Seamus. The Auror, Rachel, was the fourth out and moved to the front, opposite Sirius; her wand was ready, and her eyes sharp. The others all squinted in the light as they emerged. They lined up with four of the students on the other wall with Rachel, while Katie, Seamus and Anthony Goldstein and the soldier stood behind Sirius on the right hand wall. Myles, the SAS medic, was dressed all in black, and carried a small black gun with a silencer. Sirius nodded down the line, showing he was ready. Katie just hoped the DA were ready too. They hadn't done any combat training other than what they could learn in a book. There was only so much a book could teach and they had no experience of actually duelling, except playfully with each other. Doubt filled her mind as she struggled to push it aside. Katie hoped they were up to it. Sirius took a deep breath and checked his watch; Katie glanced down at her own; they were running out of time.

"You four," said Sirius, pointing to the four students against the left-hand wall. "Take the door on the left with Rachel. Open it, throw in one of these, wait for a flash and then go in." He handed them a small flash-bang, which Luna Lovegood took in her hand, her expression dreamy. Katie was tempted to give it to someone else, as the girl looked like she was a million miles away.

"Right," said Sirius. "We go on the count of…"

He was cut short as the door behind him to the generator room swung open and a Death Eater stepped out into the passage. He was wiping what looked like oil from his hands on a dirty cloth, as he stepped out. It took him a fraction of a second to realise he was not alone. His eyes went wide and he dropped the cloth in surprise, but was unable to get the words out or scream. He didn't get a chance to.

"STUPEFY!"

Katie hadn't moved fast enough but Rachel and Sirius had. Two bolts of red light hit him in his chest, launching his body backwards. The man landed hard on his back, unconscious before he hit the ground. Of course, this announced his presence to the others in the room.

"MASON!" shouted a voice inside the room. "We're under attack!" Sirius raised his wand to fire, but he wasn't fast enough. Katie didn't have time to shout a warning before several bolts of light shot out of the room and slammed into the door.

"GO!" ordered Rachel, running past the open door to get to the other side. She opened the opposite door to the store room and motioned for Luna to throw in the flash-bang. Luna did as she was told, while Katie remained hidden from sight. There was a flash and a bang as the device went off and Rachel disappeared into the smoke, followed by Luna.

"Ready?" asked Sirius, throwing a flash-bang to Katie. "Once inside, head to the right and hid behind the control desk. She nodded, and stared down at the device in her hands. She guessed he meant for her to throw it in. He dived across the floor, across the open door, narrowly missing a curse that shot through the door and into the storeroom. Katie hoped it didn't hit any of their team in there. After a nod from Sirius, she hurled the flash-bang in through the door. It went off a second later.

"Go!" shouted Sirius.

Anthony Goldstein took him at his word and stood up, rushing past Katie and into the room, firing a stunner as he went.

"NO!" shouted Sirius as the boy rushed past.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" the bolt of green light hit Anthony in the chest as he stood framed in the doorway. Katie ducked out of the way as his body buckled under the force of the curse. He fell to the ground, his neck at a sickening angle, and his vacant eyes staring up at Katie, lifeless and dull. He was dead.

Rachel emerged from the storeroom.

"Clear!" she announced, before her eyes fell on Anthony's body.

"Man down!" hissed Sirius, "take cover and keep them inside." He pointed to the others emerging from the store room. Rachel gestured for them to go back inside, just in time, as a curse shot out of the room, and slammed into the door next to Rachel's head. Everyone ducked down. Katie couldn't tear her eyes away from Anthony's body. His dead eyes were haunting as he stared lifelessly into space. Merlin, he was dead. He was a student, her friend, not a soldier. He hadn't deserved to die. The walls of reality came crashing down for Katie, as she stared into the lifeless eyes of her friend.

"NOW!" hissed Sirius, next to her. He and Rachel had managed to regain their focus. They were professionals after all, whereas the rest were just students, and now that something dreadful had happened, the difference showed. Katie was still focused entirely on the fallen member of their group, but the Aurors and the Muggle had moved on.

Sirius, Rachel and Myles all leaned around the corner, firing a volley of curses or bullets into the room. The small room was filled with smoke from the flash-bang and the machinery, making it hard to see. The three of them recoiled, Rachel knocking into Katie as she fell backwards.

"Sorry," she muttered, regaining her balance.

"They're dug in," hissed Myles as another volley of curses shot out the door and hit the wall. One of them ruptured a pipe, which instantly sprayed a geyser of white-hot steam into the tunnel, making in near impossible to see. Luna and Terry were still in the storeroom, having taken cover at Rachel's order. Ernie was by Katie's side with Seamus. Katie couldn't hardly see Ernie and he was less than a foot away.

"We can't get in there or we'll end up like Anthony," shouted Ernie above the noise as more curses impacted on the wall, having been fired from inside. He flinched as pieces of metal was blown away from the wall. He was right. Katie didn't consider herself an expert, but it was clear to see they were losing. They had no way to get in and were pinned down. Anthony had already lost his life, and it appeared that the same fate awaited the others.

"We've got to go loud," said Myles, reaching into a pouch on his vest and removing a green ball with a black handle and key-ring. Katie had no idea what it was, and in her opinion, it was loud enough already. Whatever the green thing did, she knew to cover her ears.

Rachel and Sirius glanced at each other. If Katie had interpreted the 'go loud' comment correctly, wouldn't that mean that everyone else in the bunker would know they were here? Would it not bring more Death Eaters down on their heads?

"It's too late for stealth," said Sirius. "Do it!" Myles pulled the key ring out of the ball and threw it into the room with a resounding clunk.

"Get down!" he hissed, covering his ears. Katie realised what was about to happen and clamped her hands over her ears. Just in time, too - the grenade exploded with tremendous force, causing the whole corridor to shake under the power of the explosion. A fountain of dust and debris shot out of the door, littering the corridor and raining hard shards of metal down on them.

"AHH!" Katie turned around to see Ernie, clutching his ears. There was a slow trickle of blood coming from one of them, seeping through his fingers, his face contorted in pain. He hadn't got his hands up in time and the force of the explosion in such a confined space had ruptured one of his eardrums. Pain was etched into his face, now covered with dust. His hair was speckled with shards of debris. He was a mess.

"Ernie's hurt!" hissed Katie, but Sirius and Rachel had gone. The two Aurors,, along with the soldier, had entered the room, disappearing into the smoke. Katie could see flashes of light reflecting off the steam. Her ears were ringing and so she couldn't hear the curses being exchanged inside. They emerged a second later.

"Clear!" hissed Rachel as she reappeared. Her eyes suddenly fell on Ernie. "His ears are gone," she said aloud, kneeling next to him opposite Katie. "It's okay; I can deal with this one," she said giving Katie a small smile. Rachel gently turned Ernie's head to the side so that she could see his ear - Ernie hissed in pain.

"It's okay," she soothed him. She pointed her wand at his ears and muttered a few words. A light appeared to be glowing from inside his ear, but the blood remained. Ernie once again hissed in pain, but Rachel ignored him. The light faded and she lifted him up into a sitting position. "Wipe the blood away," said Rachel. "You're fine now."

"What about Anthony?" asked Ernie, rising to his feet. Katie followed Ernie's eyes to where Anthony now lay. His body had fallen oddly with his neck at an unnatural angle and his unseeing eyes staring up into the lights. The subsequent battle had covered his body in debris. All dignity was gone from his death, as he lay partially buried and covered in dust, mess, and dirt. Some of the steam had cooled and covered him in water, leaving dark muddy streaks over his face and clothes. Katie stared at him, her thoughts straying to his parents, to those who had lost their son. Poor Anthony.

"We need to send the body back," answered Sirius, his voice soft and remorseful. The Auror knelt next to the body, reached into Anthony's jacket pocket and removed a fork. He pressed it into Anthony's cold, lifeless hand and tapped it with his wand. Katie knew the fork was a Portkey and wasn't surprised when Anthony disappeared with a pop, leaving the corridor in darkness. There was a moment of utter silence as everyone tried to put their fallen friend out of their mind focus on the job in hand. Anthony's lifeless eyes still imprinted on Katie's mind, she rose to her feet, ready to move on, trying to shake the image from her mind. Katie took the opportunity to peer into the room, taking in not only her surroundings, but the sombre expressions of those around her. Everyone's face was stern and set, no one wanting to be the one who appeared scared, but Katie could tell each was suffering. She tore her eyes away and peering into the room. The whole place was littered with debris, though the large green machine in the corner continued to hum. That had to be the generator, as the lights were still on. The rest of the room was covered in clutter and there were several small fires burning, adding to the smoke.

"Come on," said Sirius, gently guiding her from the room. "Let's go."

He didn't allow them time to recover, but Katie appreciated that they didn't have time. They had to keep going; they were so close. This had been a proper battle and Anthony had paid with his life. Merlin, Katie hoped this was all worth it. They had to succeed; they just had to!

Sirius set off at a jog down the corridor. Katie took a deep breath and set off after him. They were close now, and needed to hurry. The whole place knew they were here after that explosion, so they needed to clear the bunker quickly. Katie and Seamus set off at a jog side by side, with Luna and Ernie behind them and Rachel and Myles bringing up the rear.

They ran along a passage lit with electric lights, not seeing any sign of movement. They were moving quickly and their footsteps echoed, but the time for stealth was over. Suddenly Sirius ground to a halt, and Katie nearly went into the back of him. He raised a fist as a gesture to stop and everyone froze.

"What is it?" whispered Rachel, making her way to the front.

"I thought I heard a curse," said Sirius. Katie cocked an ear and listened hard, as the others pressed themselves to the wall.

REDUCTO!

The word echoed down the metal corridor, clear as crystal in a strangely familiar voice. "That's Ron!" hissed Katie. "They need help." The others were under attack. Had they lost more people? How many were dead? Was Weasley the last man standing?

"Wait here," said Rachel, pushing past the others and tip-toeing off ahead in the corridor, her movements slow and cat-like.

"Stay close," ordered Sirius, ignoring Rachel and moving slowly forward. Rachel was about ten metres ahead, but in clear sight. Katie was alongside Sirius, not far behind. Up ahead, she could see that the passage opened up into a room. It looked like a gangway or a balcony, as it had a barrier and an edge to it. There was a man in black robes crouched behind a barrel, looking down at the room below. Flashes of light reflected off the walls.

Suddenly there was a shout and a jet of red light shot past the man, missing and hitting the wall. That sounded like Frank, Katie noted. At least two of them were alive. She aimed her wand at the man, but Sirius pushed her arms back down, stopping her from aiming.

"You might hit Rachel," said Sirius. Katie was mildly insulted that he didn't trust her aim, but she said nothing. She watched Rachel as she approached the man silently from behind. Katie noticed that she had pocketed her wand. Why would she do that? As Katie watched, Rachel grabbed the man around the neck from behind, pressing her forearm into his throat, and gripping his neck with her other arm. Her knee was pressed into his back, preventing him from getting to his feet. The man dropped his wand in shock as she grabbed him. A second later, Rachel gave his neck a sharp twist. He died with a sickening crack that echoed down the passage, making Katie's stomach clench. She had to look away, and felt sick at the sound of the bone breaking. With that, Rachel released the body, and it fell to the floor with a splash.

"In a spot of bother, lads?" asked Rachel, leaning on the rail. Katie assumed she could see the others below. Katie and Sirius moved forward to join her on the balcony, just as Ron and Ginny Weasley emerged from a passage on the lower level. Frank stepped out from behind a large cylindrical tank, dripping with water, his robes streaked with stains of mud, algae, rust and Merlin knows what else. The remaining part of Katie's gang joined them on the balcony. Frank beckoned for them to come down, and pointed at the door at the end of the room.

"Be right down," said Rachel, swinging herself onto the ladder.

"Was the explosion you?" asked Frank as Rachel climbed downwards.

"Yep," she said as she reached the bottom of the ladder. "A group of them had position on us, so we chucked in a grenade. I counted four bodies in total."

"We got nine," said Frank. "That's thirteen, but there could be more."

"Or they could all be at the ceremony," said Rachel, as Katie mounted the ladder.

"Hope for the best…" said Frank.

"…Prepare for the worst," finished Rachel. Katie reached the bottom and stepped away.

"Everyone all right?" asked Ginny. Katie couldn't look her in the eye.

"We lost Anthony," said Katie sadly. "He's dead." Ginny paled slightly and bowed her head. The smile on her face vanished in an instant.

"Hermione and Cho are injured and back at Hogwarts," Ginny announced. "They're alive, but…" she trailed off. Three of them had been injured and they were not even at the Ministry yet. They didn't know the condition of the hostages. How were they ever to amass an army large enough to rival the Black Watch? Katie was drawn from her thoughts by Frank's call.

"Come on," said the Auror, emotionlessly, earning himself a glare from Ginny. Katie was glad he had stopped her trail of thought or she might have driven herself to despair. Turning her attention to Frank, she listened as he continued.

"Let's finish this, or their deaths and injuries will have been in vain."

Katie nodded, knowing it was the right thing to do, and knowing her father would be proud of her today. She looked around the room. The last of them was descending the ladder. The two SAS men were talking quietly in the corner, presumably comparing notes. The three Aurors were at the far end of the room, examining a large metal door.

The students gathered round, a sombre atmosphere falling on the group. One of them was dead, two were back at Hogwarts, unable to go on; Katie didn't know what state they were in. Ernie had been injured, though he seemed all right now. This wasn't the grand adventure it had seemed. She hadn't planned on this when she had joined the D.A. Dumbledore's Army, a sort of joke name, an army loyal to Dumbledore, not Crouch's Ministry. None of them had thought the name of the society was to be taken literally. Still, she was glad she had come. She hadn't enjoyed it, for the most part, but she felt like she was helping people; she knew what she did today would save lives, just like her father had done. Maybe she would be an Auror one day.

"Guys," said Sirius from by the door, addressing the students. "Form a semi-circle, wands aimed at the door. We don't know what's behind it." They spread out, just as they had been told, wands level at the door. Frank and Rachel were on one side of the door, with Sirius on the other.

"It's warded," hissed Frank. "The Alohomora Charm won't work, and we can't blast, as we'd kill whoever is inside."

"Myles, cut it!" hissed Rachel. Katie watch as Myles pulled out his cutting torch again and went to work on the lock. Sparks flew everywhere, like a beautiful but deadly fountain as the torch melted the lock. It took perhaps thirty seconds, before the man backed off.

"Ready?" hissed Sirius. Katie tensed, her entire body ready to react with less than a second' notice. Her wand was aimed at the door, a curse on her lips, ready to blast anything inside into oblivion.

"Three…" began Sirius, "…two...o…" He was cut off as the lights suddenly went out with a sharp crack.

"Defensive positions, take cover!" hissed Frank. There was a mad scramble and Katie darted into cover, colliding with something small, soft and warm. It was a person.

"Oi!" hissed an Irish accent.

"Sorry, Seamus," whispered Katie. They were concealed beneath the balcony. There was silence and the fact that she couldn't see her hands in front of her face didn't help. Her heart was pounding as she stared into the darkness.

"I can't see a thing," hissed Seamus. They night vision had been ruined by the light. "What happened?"

"Either someone shut down the power or it ran out," said Katie.

"Shhh!" hissed a voice, probably Frank.

Suddenly, a white light filled the room. "Don't move," hissed Frank, rising to his feet, his wand light shining around them. In the gloom, Katie could see the others cowering in the shadows, and Frank moving into the centre of the room, shining the light around.

"It must have just ran out," said Frank. "As you were."

Lighting their wands, the others once again formed the semi-circle around the door, wands at the ready, the Muggles holding up Muggle torches so that they could see. Her heart will pounding, Katie aimed her wand at the door.

Frank took the handle in his arms and began to pull. With a grating sound, the door slowly began to move. Katie readied her wand, a Stunner on her lips, in case anyone tried to come out. With a final creak, the door swung completely open, revealing a consuming darkness. Katie couldn't see a thing inside. The room was in total darkness, and it smelt of sweat and human waste. The smell hit them like a wall, and with a groan they all clasped their sleeves to their noses. It was vile.

"Wait here," hissed Frank, slipping through the doorway, into the gloom. Katie stepped a little further forward, lighting her wand to cover him. She stopped at the entrance, and kept her wand on Frank so he could see where he was treading. There was no sign of life. Ginny appeared next to Katie, were wand light trained on Frank. Frank didn't light his wand so that he could use other spells if needed.

Katie watched as the man dressed in a green anorak, stepped cautiously into the darkness, his wand moving left to right, looking for any sign of survivors. There was utter silence, save for Frank's footsteps. Katie's heart was pounding. What was going to happen? Had they got it all wrong? Were the hostages not here? Had Anthony died in vain?

Suddenly there was a flash of movement, and something grabbed Frank and pulled him into the darkness. He disappeared with a grunt. Katie wanted to fire a spell, but it was too dark and she didn't know what she might hit. There was only one spell she could use.

"Lumos Maxima!"

Instead on a single beam of light, a ball formed at the end of her wand, lighting the entire room, so brightly everyone had to look away.

Frank lay face down on the floor with his arms being held firmly behind his back by a combination of a very scruffy looking James Potter and another man. Potter and his accomplice were frozen like rabbits in headlights, their dilated eyes staring at the army in the doorway.

"Prongs," said Sirius in an almost bored voice. "Is that any way to greet your rescue party?" Potter's jaw dropped and he stood gaping like a fish as Sirius stepped into the room. Katie could see the others now, dotted around the room. There were almost thirty of them. Some faces she knew, most she didn't. There were wearing an assortment of stained and dirty clothes, most with holes on them. The floor was covered in an inch of water, and from the smell of it was mixed with urine. They hadn't even been allowed out to go to the loo. One or two were sporting evidence of having been beaten, and they all looked deathly pale.

"Can I get up now, please?" hissed an angry voice from the floor.

"S…sorry, Frank," stammered Potter, releasing the Auror. Katie didn't manage to hide her grin, and quickly looked away. Potter continued to gape and stammered, "I…I…what are you doing here?"

"We are here at your boy's request," said Frank, climbing to his feet. "We have to get you out of here, now."

"Ginny!" Katie turned to see Rose-Marie Potter stagger out of the darkness and almost fall into her friend. As Ginny and Rose-Marie embraced, Katie could see that Rose-Marie had suffered. Her once pristine black robes were dripping wet and covered in greeny-brown slime. It was the decayed water, miserable food and probably vomit as well. Her face was covered in dirt, her hair a mess and her eyes vacant and tired.

"Harry decided we needed more help," said Rachel opening the door fully. "Hello, Mad-Eye," she added sarcastically, pulling the Auror to his feet. "How am I doing?" There was smugness in her voice, but Mad-Eye ignored it.

"Where's Dumbledore?" asked Frank, shining his wand around. Katie scanned the room but couldn't see the headmaster.

"They've already taken him to the ceremony," said James Potter. "He's to be executed." They were too late. What happened now? Without Dumbledore, they would never manage to defeat You-Know-Who. Harry Potter was good, but he wasn't that good. They needed Dumbledore. Without him it was hopeless.

"Then we can pick him up there when we meet Harry," said Sirius, remaining calm. "Come on, it's twelve minutes to twelve. We need to go."

"All right," said Frank, taking control. "Anyone fit to fight, come to me, and we'll get you to the Ministry."

"Lily, Rosie," said Sirius, reaching into his pocket. "Come on, we'll get you back to Hogwarts."

"I'm going!" announced Rose Marie, drinking from Ginny's flask of water, before splashing some more over her face.

"You're too tired," said Ginny gently, and Katie agreed, but the girl was adamant. She shook her head, and swet her jaw firmly.

"I'm fine," said Rose, "And you need all the help you can get."

"Lily?" asked Sirius, looking doubtful. Professor Potter sighed and nodded.

"We all go," said Lily. "Harry needs us all."

"Portkeys," said Frank, handing them out. "James, Kingsley, Lily, you first. Let's just hope the boy-wonder has done his bit."

XXXXX

The door to the lift slid silently open, and Harry stepped out into the gloom. The Ministry Entrance Hall was in semi-darkness, the only light coming from a false skylight in the roof, which lit only a small area in the centre of the room, and a small light on the security desk. The desk was manned by a single guard, who had his feet up on it and was reading a magazine; another man paced the room. The two men were dressed in the uniform of the Black Watch. Looking around, Harry could see the fountain glistening in the gloom, and the sound of trickling water had muffled the sound of the lift's chime, and would also cover his footsteps.

Harry glanced at Captain Spears, who had come down with him in the lift. The captain stood beside him, along with two other soldiers. Four had been all they could fit in the phone box. It would take several more trips to get them all down here, but they had been told to wait until Spears radioed them. The captain raised two fingers to his eyes and then to Harry, showing that he saw two men. Harry nodded in agreement. He had no idea how he understood these signals, but it seemed that the Dark Knight once had. He raised the palm of his hand to Spears, gesturing for him to remain there. He would handle this - hopefully without bloodshed.

Harry slipped into the shadows on the left side of the room, far away from where the Black Watch Auror was pacing. Harry slipped down the side of the room, hugging the wall and invisible in the shadows, thanks to the black cloak covering his white. He passed all the fireplaces through which hundreds of wizards and witches had arrived this morning, but through which none of them could be allowed to leave this afternoon. An inconvenience, yes, but a necessary one. He reached the back of the reception desk and hopped over it, his boots landing silently on the floor behind the guard who was reading. Harry paused, taking in his surroundings again. The pacer was close to him now. Harry waited, as the pacer completed his length. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was sure that his heart and breathing would give him away. The pacer finished his length and turned around, heading back up towards the lift end.

When the pacer's back was turned, Harry moved instantly. He grabbed the reading guard from behind, clamping his hand over his mouth to stop him speaking and poked his wand into the man's lower back.

Stupefy!

The man went limp, but unfortunately as he did, he slipped off the chair, crashing to the floor with a tremendous bang and taking Harry with him. There were a thud as he hit the floor, followed by a crash as the upturned chair landed beside him. The weight of the man and the chair pinned Harry to the floor. The pacing Auror spun on the spot and raised his wand, but he never managed to get a spell off. Three red holes exploded out of his chest, tearing his clothes to ribbons, as Spears fired his machine gun. The silencer prevented the sound of the gunshots, but the silence only made it more un-nerving as a man's chest exploded for no apparent reason, spraying blood over the floor. The body crashed to the floor in a puddle of blood. Harry stood back up, using his wand to hoist the stunned guard off of him. From behind the desk, he could see the fallen Auror lying in the light area. His face was pale, his eyes vacant and haunting. A pool of thick blood was seeping out from beneath him, slowly growing as his arteries emptied over the floor.

"Scourgefy!" Harry cleaned up the mess as Spears dragged the body away. Although sickened by the blood, Harry felt a surprising lack of remorse for the man. This was disturbing, but probably for the best as it allowed him to concentrate on the job at hand. The other soldiers were now arriving in four loads from the phone booth. Rachel had just called from Lundy, so their attack had started. They had time, but not a lot.

"Come on," hissed Harry as the last of the soldiers emerged from the phone-box. He stood in the light, cloaked in black, and surrounded by thirty-eight men, also in black. They were armed to the teeth with pistols, machine guns and knives. Their armour made them look more intimidating, while the helmet and gasmask gave them an inhuman and haunting look. They were indeed an ominous sight. Harry singled out Lieutenant Hopkins, the officer of Blue Team, and handed him the backpack he had brought, containing the last of the Arctic Thunder machines. "Keep this with you, I will return for it," he told the man.

He turned to address all the soldiers. "This is it," announced Harry. "Blue team, stay here and secure the room. We will deactivate the fireplaces, but people will try and escape through them. Use force if you have to, but no one is allowed to leave. Red team, you are coming with me to the Auror Complex. Follow me. Good luck, gentlemen."

Harry turned on his heel, and headed around the security barrier and into the Ministry of Magic. The eighteen soldiers from Red Team followed his example in silence, Captain Spears at the front. They were to professional for needless cahtter and there was nothing left to say. They followed him in silence. The lift at the end of the corridor opened, and they managed to squeeze half of them in. The lift took them to the new Auror Complex, in a different part of the country, by means of magic.

Harry raised his wand as he felt the lift stop. There was a series of clicks as the soldiers cocked their weapons. Harry hoped they didn't have to use them. After seeing the mess in the Entrance Hall after Spears had shot that guard, Harry had no desire to repeat it. He felt no sympathy for the guard, but his own stomach had not liked the sight of the blood.

PING!

The doors slid open and Harry slipped out into the darkness. Thankfully, they found the complex deserted. This would be an ideal day to rob a bank, thought Harry; the police are all on holiday. His sharp eyes scanned the darkness, detecting no signs of movement.

"Secure the area," Spears ordered his men. Harry watched as the figures in black dispersed amongst the desks, their guns levelled, looking for enemies. Harry headed along one corridor for about ten metres before finding the door he was looking for. Rachel's map of the complex had been invaluable. He entered the armoury, which had been repaired following Rachel's pyromanic episode. Inside were enough armour and weapons for them all – enough to start a war.

God, he hoped he knew what he was doing. He had sent his friends to Lundy, to fight against trained Death Eaters. They had had next to no practice. God, he hoped they were okay. They were all he had, but he knew that didn't make them the best. What would he do if his friends were killed? He had no idea. He wedged the door open and returned to the main floor of the complex. The soldiers were standing around ready.

"You all know where to be and when?" he asked. The soldiers all nodded.

"Thanks for doing this," said Harry, bowing his head.

POP!

Harry spun round as four people holding a potato masher appeared out of thin air. James Potter, Rachel Shepherd, Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor Moody had appeared through the Portkey. The soldiers had immediately raised their guns in response to the new arrivals.

"Hold fire!" snapped Harry. "Lights!" The lights came on at the sound of his voice, due to the magic of the room. His father took two steps and speechlessly dragged Harry into a hug. Harry had never been hugged like that before, except by Mrs Weasley, and didn't really know how to react, especially with the hard-as-nails SAS around him. How could they respect him after this show of affection? He was sure they were smirking behind their gasmasks.

"Thank Merlin you're okay," said James, his voice cracking as he held Harry tightly.

"You told me to find you," whispered Harry. "So I did." James chuckled sadly, as he released him, his eyes still glistening with tears. He had long stubble that was almost a beard and large bags under his eyes. He looked tired and worn, but his eyes were alive.

"Has Sirius told you the plan?" asked Harry.

"The long and the short of it," said James. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"I have to be," said Harry. "Now, you'll need to lose the beard to get past the Aurors." Harry smirked at the glare he got from his father. "As a prominent Auror, you need to recruit as many as possible," said Harry. The soldiers had the blueprints of the Auditorium laid out on the table, so Harry led his father across to it. "You need to get to the Black Watch here –" he pointed to the map –"Also, there will be commandoes here, and Aurors who aren't in the Black Watch grouped here. They will have red bands on their arms."

POP!

Rose-Marie, Dedalus, Hestia, Kingsley and Katie had appeared from thin air, holding an egg whisk. What on earth…? thought Harry.

"What is Rose doing here?" demanded Harry of Rachel. "I specifically said take her to Hogwarts!" Could she not follow a simple instruction? Rose was clearly not up to fighting and he didn't want her anywhere near the fight. He didn't want her death on his conscience.

"She's…" began Rachel.

"Quite capable of speaking for herself," Rose cut her off, glaring at Harry. Harry admired her courage, but this was not the time to play soldier. This was serious. "I'm fine, Harry, and I can fight. I've been locked in a cell for a month. I've got lots of pent-up energy and frustration."

"This isn't about revenge," said Harry. Didn't she see that thinking like that would only get her killed? "You are in no fit state to fight. Please, return to Hogwarts."

"I know it isn't about revenge, but you need everyone you can get, so shut up. I'm coming," snapped Rose. Harry opened his mouth and then closed it. He didn't have time to argue with her, as she was as stubborn as he was. They were in a hurry. Harry glanced pleadingly at his mother, who although swaying slightly nodded to him. Great, thought Harry bitterly. Now she's coming too. More worries he did not need.

Harry checked his watch. They were running out of time. "Fine," he said to Rose. "But if it gets too much, if you are hurt or feel tired, you return to Hogwarts. You don't get cocky or stupid, you leave, is that understood?" He didn't like the idea of her being there.

"Yes," said Rose, nodding. Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He hoped he could concentrate on Voldemort and not worry about her, but it wasn't likely.

"Sirius, don't let her out of your sight, okay?" The Auror nodded. "Right," said Harry, after the third Portkey arrived. "Listen up! Grab a wand, armour and Black Watch robes from the armoury. You will need them to slip amongst the ceremony. Aurors, recruit your old friends, others take up position and wait for my signal. When it kicks off, someone get Dumbledore clear. Captain, I need you in position as soon as possible but wait for the magic to go down."

"What's the signal?" asked Rose.

"You'll know when you see it," said Harry. "All Hell will break loose. Now get ready!"

"Here," said Rachel, throwing a bag at Rose, who caught it. Rachel threw more to Mad-Eye and the others. They were small sports bags and they seemed full. Those hadn't been part of the plan, had they?

"What are those?" asked Harry, gesturing to the bags.

"Auror robes," Rachel replied, pulling a wad of red fabric out of one of the bags. "They were on their way to the incinerator. As guardians of the peace, we wore these. We fought under the badge of justice and if there's ever been a time when someone should stand for justice, it's now."

"Cool," said Ron, having just arrived by another Portkey. "Always wanted some of these." He began to replace his anorak by the robes.

"When people see the Red," said Rachel, "when ex-Aurors see the badge once more, we'll see where their loyalties lie."

THUD!

Harry spun around. To his horror, he saw his mother lying spread-eagled on the ground, her face deathly pale.

"Mum?" was all he could say, his mind blanking in panic. James was by her side in a second, leaning over her. She had collapsed onto her back on the floor, and was lying in an odd position, her breathing shallow, and she was shivering. He checked her pulse, and leaned down low, his cheeky over her mouth.

"Pulse slow, and breathing shallow," he announced. "She's too weak to go on. She'll live, but she can't fight."

"Send her to Pomfrey, quickly," said Harry, kneeling next to her and trying not to let his concern show. He glanced up at Rose, who was staring down, here eyes wide and shining with tears.

"You could accompany her back," he suggested. Rose shook her head. She was still as stubborn as her mother. Rachel chucked a pair of tongs to James who caught them deftly and placed them his wife's hand. Harry took a deep breath, hoping this wouldn't be last time he would see her, and then tapped the Portkey with his wand. She was gone with a pop.

"Are you all right?" asked one of the soldiers.

"As I'll ever be," said Harry, standing up. He was more concerned about the others. "Rachel, you said there was a Medical Centre here, right?" She nodded. "Have we got any potions to regain their strength?" he gestured to the hostages.

"I'll have a look," she said, heading off toward the corridor at the end of the room.

"Right, I have to get going," said Harry. "As soon as you've had some potion, get going. Wear Black Watch kit over the top of your reds," said Harry, "so you can move amongst them." He rather liked the idea of the old uniforms, but they mustn't stand out until it all kicked off. Then it would be good to be able to see each other clearly. "Get to the ceremony, recruit who you can, but remember, no one makes a move until Voldemort and I arrive," said Harry. "Good luck." With that, he left the others and marched over to the lift and pressed the button. The doors slid open and Harry stepped in. "Hurry, we have only five minutes. Good luck and Godspeed!" He pressed the button for the Minister's floor.

XXXXX

The doors slid open and Harry stepped out into a deserted corridor. This was probably the only floor of the building with the exception of the ceremony downstairs, on which the lights were on. Harry blinked as he stepped into the lights, but his eyes quickly adjusted. He checked his weapons were all secure and his wands were where he could get at them. Satisfied, he pulled the black cloak around him and with a deep breath, he began to march the corridor towards the Minister's room. He walked in the middle of the corridor, no longer needing to hide. For a start, there was no one here, and secondly, Voldemort wanted him for himself. No one would touch him. Harry knew that this was a trap for him, but he knew something Voldemort didn't.

At this very moment, the newly revived Order of the Phoenix was spreading out into the Ministry. Harry wasn't alone. Voldemort had always said his weakness was his friends, but today, they were his strength. Today, Voldemort would be proved wrong. Harry knew that this was a plan to draw him out and that Voldemort would wait for Harry to come to him. Every step brought him closer to Voldemort, closer to the man who had killed his parents and closer to the man he was destined to murder. Harry thrust the thought aside; this was no time to think of morals – he had to concentrate. He's not a man, he's a monster; he's not a person, he's a target.

Harry clenched his fists and took a deep breath. He could do this, he knew he could! He paused just short of the double doors. He took another deep breath and tried to clear his mind. This was it, concentrate, Harry, you can do this. Shaking slightly, he raised a hand to the door and pushed. The large ornate double doors opened inwards almost invitingly. Readying himself, Harry stepped through the doors and into the room. It was deserted, with the lines of desks abandoned. His heart was pounding in his chest as he stared around the silent room. The shadows played tricks on his mind and he refused to let them. Taking a breath, he stepped further into the room.

BANG!

He spun around to find that the double doors had slammed shut behind him, trapping him. He had known it was a trap, but his heart was still pounding and he was sweating beneath his clothes. Harry refused to show that he was scared and began to walk around the lines of desks, staying near the wall. There was a flight of shallow stairs coming out of the wall that led up to the Minister's office. The glass wall to the office shone, and Harry could not see any movement in the office, but he knew Voldemort was there, waiting for him. He walked quickly but quietly to the steps and began to climb. He reached the top and, with one final glance behind him, he opened the door and stepped into the office.

The room was larger than it looked from downstairs. There were shelves against the far wall and a mini-fridge to the left. The left wall was made of glass and had a filling cabinet against it with a silver cobra on top. To the right were two black leather sofas with a glass coffee table in the middle. In the middle of the room was a large wooden desk covered in parchment, with a fire-caller on the side of it. Behind that was a large chair with its back to Harry. Harry was about to turn and leave, thinking he had made a mistake, when the chair began to turn slowly towards him. As it turned, Harry's hand moved quickly to his wand, ready for action. As the chair came around to face him, Harry found himself staring into a familiar pair of cold, red eyes. He stood motionless as his enemy calmly surveyed him from the black leather chair that rose high above his head. Harry quickly cleared his mind of everything but Voldemort, not only to stop Occlumency, but to concentrate on his task: murder. He did not want to give away the presence of the others in the building; Voldemort had to believe that he was doing this alone.

The Dark Lord sat motionless in the chair. He wore jet black robes, which draped over the arms of the chair in which he sat. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair, and his fingers were pressed together just below his chin. His cold red eyes stared relentlessly at Harry, while his long black hair cascaded his face, leaving it in shadow, broken only by the reflected light in his pitiless red eyes. At last, he spoke.

"I knew if I left it long enough, you would seek me out," said Voldemort calmly. His tone was one of ice calm and control, though his eyes burned with anger. His long spider-like fingers moved ever so slightly, the tips rhythmically tapping together as his eyes surveyed Harry. "You cannot allow me to become Minister, and so you would be forced to make one last ditch attempt on my life. "

"It would never stop at Minister," said Harry, his voice betraying no emotion, though his eyes flickered around the office, looking for any sign of danger. He kept an eye on Voldemort's hands, in case they moved for his wand on in Harry's direction.

"True," said Voldemort. "Give me one month to cripple the Muggle government and then in three this little island will be mine. A series of anti-Muggle wards in the Channel, Atlantic and North Sea and the wizard population will have this little island all to themselves, a sanctuary from the filth that have all but imprisoned our kind."

"With you as the king, emperor, lord, baron, mayor or whatever title you choose," finished Harry, his voice lined with the disgust he felt. Voldemort raised an eyebrow but did not reply. Was this what had happened to Harry's own world as he spoke? Was this the fate that awaited him when he got home? Snap out of it; focus!

"Thinking about home?" asked Voldemort, his eyes flashing with malice. Harry wasn't sure if he was using Legilimency or if it was just a good guess. "My journey through your thoughts was most interesting. Tell me, was it like this in your world? Come now, Harry, I find it all fascinating. Do tell." Voldemort was baiting Harry and he knew it. He wouldn't rise to the bait.

"In my world you were defeated, you are nothing but a memory," said Harry, anger creeping into his voice. He didn't bother to elaborate, or to finish the story "I killed you." Let Voldemort think that if he had done it once, he could do it again. "I survived your killing curse," continued Harry. "You can't kill me, Tom." If he could unbalance Riddle enough, he might make a mistake. It wasn't like he was trying to discourage a fight. That was inevitable at this stage. He had to die.

"Your mind is an open book to me, Harry," said Voldemort calmly. "Through your eyes I have witnessed my own downfall and my own rebirth. I now know that the measures I have taken to prevent my own demise will work. I do wonder though, if you know how you came to be in this world?" Harry stared back unblinking.

"I did not think so," said Voldemort, his voice betraying a little scorn. Harry was quite relieved he didn't. The last thing he needed was this Voldemort crossing to his world. Two Voldemorts in one world would be impossible.

"Very well," said Voldemort, apparently having reached a decision. "Let us proceed. You came here today to kill me, Harry. Why do you hesitate?" asked Voldemort. Harry didn't want to answer, he didn't want to be judged a murderer.

"I don't want to," said Harry. Hesitating. He had to make him understand that he was not like him. He had to understand that Harry was not a monster. Why did it matter what he thought. For some reason Harry felt he had to justify himself.

"But that is what you are here to do," snapped Voldemort, cutting him off. "Despite your newfound goodness, you are still a killer, the killer that I made you, and you always will be." Harry felt the hatred rise. He was not a killer and he was not what Voldemort had made him!

"I don't like stooping to your level," snapped Harry, desperate to justify himself. He was not a murderer. "But we both know that no prison could hold you. You're too clever and wise for that."

"Was that praise, Harry?" asked Voldemort, his calm as infuriating as Dumbledore's. Harry realised that he was being drawn into a pointless argument. Voldemort was trying to get him angry enough to make a mistake, and he couldn't afford to let that happen. Calm down, Harry! Focus!

"I hate you, but it doesn't mean I don't respect you," he said carefully, his eyes darting from Voldemort's eyes to his hands. If the bastard moved his hands an inch, Harry would fry him. His fingers almost itched to go to his wand.

"Know your enemy," said Voldemort. "I taught you well." There he went again, claiming credit for Harry's actions. Harry had done this alone, not with Voldemort's help, but he wouldn't rise to the bait this time. He had to end the argument.

"Recount your title, turn the Ministry over to a person of my choosing and I will give you the chance to live," said Harry firmly, his eyes locked with Voldemort's.

"An idle threat," spat Voldemort dismissively. "But do you not see how similar we are? I gave instructions that the power of the Ministry be handed to my follower, the younger Crouch. You have just given an instruction that I hand over power to your follower, a member of your little Order; I cannot guess whom you would choose as Arthur Weasley, Amelia Bones and the young Dawlish are all missing in action, however the point stands: we both want power for what we believe in, Harry. Don't you see that we want the same thing? We differ in one respect and one respect only. We both know that the common man has no control over the government, so we choose those in power. We are both willing to go to extreme lengths to achieve this, even the taking of human life. Those who seek power are by definition alone those who least deserve it, as you once told me. You chose those who claim they do not seek power, you believe the lie. I chose people who openly admit they seek power. The dishonest fool is far easier to predict and control that an honest one, for the very reason that the honest person, is a liar for he claims to not want power. It is a contradiction in terms."

"What I believe in is the good of the people," said Harry. "The vast majority."

"The vast majority have been kept in line with a mere newspaper," said Voldemort. "They believe whatever they are told as long as it means they do not have to do anything. They allowed my change of government, with the odd exception."

"No!" said Harry, cutting him off. There was truth to his words but he could not be distracted. He had to concentrate on the task at hand. He had no wish to prolong the conversation or start a debate. He returned to his authoritative voice and addressed Voldemort. "Call Crouch on the Floo and tell him to release prisoners and stand down, or you will never leave the room alive."

"Never threaten me," sneered Voldemort, his eyes flashing with malice and his tone icy cold.

The elder mean rose effortlessly to his feet, his eyes never leaving Harry's. Harry tensed, his hand tightly clasped around his wand, ready for the inevitable attack. Harry placed his right foot behind his felt, standing sideways-on, so Voldemort couldn't see that his hands were closed around his wand on his right hip.

"You have impressed me over the last few months," said Voldemort, stepping away from the chair and beginning to circle the desk. "You escaped my mansion, you entered Hogwarts, you convinced the old man to trust you. You struck several serious blows to my plans, not to mention gained entry to the plant in Devon. Tell me this, though. When I told you of your past, when I told you who you really are, when I offered you a second chance, why did you not take it? Having travelled through worlds, having seen more than most men alive, I offered you a place at my side, and true to my word, you could have taken your old position, why did you not take it?"

"I am not the same boy who left you," said Harry, with a sense of pride. "He's dead. I'm all that's left. He was my Voldemort and he is gone; I am the Tom Riddle that is left. I'm sure you can empathise with that?"

"Not an analogy to be proud of," said Voldemort. "Tom Riddle was weak, but as you said, he is dead, and only Lord Voldemort remains."

"No," said Harry. "Your Harry still lives inside me, his powers are now mine, just as Tom Riddle lives inside you, hidden away." Harry's arm tensed, knowing that Voldemort was about to become very angry indeed. "You are still the young boy, frightened and alone who grew up in the orphanage. What was it like, growing up in Slytherin, never able to tell them that you father was a Muggle?"

"ENOUGH!" roared Voldemort, losing his cool. "You came here this morning to kill me! You are still the monster, but you are right about one thing. I didn't make you this monster; I just trained you. You are a natural-born killer and you always will be. Nothing you have done or will do will change that. You remain, to this day, the…Dark…Knight!" He almost hissed the last three words, his eyes glowing with anger. Harry had had enough; it was time to show Voldemort how wrong he was. The broach on his cloak was undone, and Harry flung his arms in the air, throwing the cloak off him, revealing the glowing white clothes he had on below. Everything from the boots to the gloves to the armour were all perfectly white, which reflected in the Dark Lord's glowing red eyes. The Dark Lord stepped back in surprise and maybe even fear as the White Knight stood before him.

"It was you?" hissed Voldemort, seething with anger. He quickly recovered from the look of shock.

"You've lost, Tom," hissed Harry. "You can't win!"

He opened his mouth to say something else, but he never managed to say a word. The desk in front of him suddenly jumped up toward Harry. The top side crashed into his chest, knocking him off his feet. His armour protected him from the impact, but he landed hard on his side, just before the heavy oak desk came crashing down on top of him. He lost his grip on his wand as the desk smashed into him, hitting his forehead with the corner.

There was a short cackle of laughter, but Harry couldn't see where it came from. Shaking his head to rid himself of the disorientation of having hit his head, Harry summoned enough magic to wandlessly launch the desk off of him. The desk was launched into the air and into the far wall, cracking right down the middle as it hit. With a tremendous crash, it bounced off the wall and hit the ground. Harry sprang off his shoulders, landing gracefully on his feet, just in time to be hit by Voldemort's incoming spell. His dragon-scale armour took the brunt of the curse, but it was strong enough to launch him off his feet. Harry was vaguely aware of his feet leaving the ground, before his back collided with the glass wall of the office.

There was a loud crash as Harry sailed through the window. He twisted in mid-air, but not intentionally. He saw the floor below him come up to greet him. With a thud he slammed face first into the ground. His hands prevented his face from getting hurt, but his hands themselves cried out in pain. He covered his head as shards of razor-sharp glass rained down around him, slicing into the backs of his hands as they protected his head.

Once it was over, Harry quickly climbed to his feet, ignoring the few small scratches he had received. Luckily, nothing had dug into his skin too deeply. He shook himself to remove the shards of glass, just as Voldemort appeared at the top of the stairs that led to the Minister's office. As the Dark Lord calmly descended the stairs, Harry pulled out his second wand and aimed it at Voldemort's neck. Neither of them cast a spell. Harry kept his wand trained on Voldemort's neck and began to climb the stairs as Voldemort descended. They met in the middle, separated by only two steps.

"It ends now," announced Harry, his eyes locked with Voldemort's, green locked with red.

"In the only way it can," replied Voldemort. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry jumped, casting a silent hovering charm on himself. He had had so much practice at this that he almost didn't have to think anymore, allowing him to jump great heights easily. He sailed into the air, the curse zooming beneath his feet. He dived backwards in mid air, somersaulting and landing on a desk over ten feet from Voldemort. Harry instantly dived to the side to avoid another incoming curse; he landed on his stomach, sliding away on his belly on the polished floor. The curse hit a painting on the wall behind him, shattering the glass and blowing a good section of the wall apart. Burning pieces of canvas fluttered down to the ground, overtaken by falling chunks of plaster.

Harry knew he needed his primary wand back, the brother of Voldemort's own. It would give him an element of surprise and perhaps time enough to act. He may end up needing the power of that wand. Not hesitating in case he changed his mind, Harry jumped to his feet and charged across the room, in direct sight of Voldemort. Ducking another curse as he ran, he jumped and kicked off a desk, casting a hovering charm on himself as he did so. He launched himself fifteen feet into the air, performing a front flip as he peaked, and landed in the Minister's office through the glass wall that now no longer existed. To his surprise, he landed on his feet. He immediately picked up his own wand and tucked his second one away.

Harry quickly peeked out to see where Voldemort was before acting. He jumped out of the window, a ten-foot drop below him. In midair he fired two stunners at Voldemort, who effortlessly spun out of the way of the first and then blocked the second with a shield. Harry landed on the nearest desk, just as it exploded. Voldemort had read what he was trying to do and had destroyed the desk. Harry felt his ankle sprain as he landed on the debris of the desk. He cried out in pain, but still managed to dive to the side, avoiding the following curse.

"Paralysio!" shouted Harry, aiming his wand at Voldemort. Voldemort effortlessly blocked it with a shield, just as Harry prepared to use the spell that Dumbledore had used in the Ministry last year. He wielded his wand like a whip and shouted the incantation. A whip of fire sprung from the end of his wand, encircling Voldemort, shield and all. A brief glimmer of surprise crossed Voldemort's face. Harry knew there were Anti-Apparation wards in the Ministry, which meant that Voldemort could not Apparate, but thanks to his Animagus form, Harry could.

Harry gave the whip a sharp tug, and the magic of the whip enhanced the strength of the pull one hundred fold. Voldemort, still encased in his shield, was launched across the room and slammed into the cold, hard wall. He bounced off and hit the floor, rolling over once before coming to a stop. Harry stepped closer to his fallen foe, but before he had gone two paces, Voldemort flicked his wand, unleashing a Piercing Curse at Harry's face. Harry jerked his head to the side, but not quite fast enough. He felt a flicker of pain in his left temple and felt a sticky warm flow of blood run down his cheek.

Harry whipped his head back around to face Voldemort. Another curse was already on the way. Harry levitated a chair into the way. The chair absorbed the curse, cracking down the back in the process. Harry then launched the chair at Voldemort, who simply raised a hand to stop it. The chair came to a stop in front of him. With a wave of his hand, the chair flew away into a wall, shattering as it did so.

Harry ducked behind a desk, taking a second to assess the situation. Voldemort's Piercing Curse had cut into the side of his head, leading a long gash near his temple. He was lucky it hadn't taken his ear off. Readying himself, Harry peered around the desk. It was a tiny movement, but Voldemort had seen it. He sent another curse toward Harry, who conjured the by now familiar blue circle of light in his hand. He scooped the incoming curse up in the circle and, sidestepping the next curse, hurled the ring, curse and all, back at Voldemort. Voldemort conjured a blue shield that Harry had never seen before. Seizing his chance, Harry raised his wand, thanking Moody silently for his training.

"Potestas Constricto!" shouted Harry. Immediately a dark green band of light surrounded Voldemort's shield at waist height. The ring of blue light Harry had thrown, and the curse it contained, was absorbed by Voldemort's shield, but the green band still surrounded the shield. It grew smaller and smaller, crushing the once round shield around Voldemort into an egg shape. As the band tightened around the shield it turned into a figure-of-eight shape, with Voldemort being crushed around the middle. Harry could almost see the sweat on the Dark Lord's brow. It took all Harry's concentration to keep the band corporeal. Voldemort was putting up one hell of a fight, as the band attempted to crush the air out of him. If his shield failed, the band would then move on to crush his chest.

Suddenly the band began to glow white. A crackling noise filled the air and then the band exploded. The shockwave forced Harry off his feet. He landed on his back on top of a desk and then rolled off, landing on his shoulders on a chair, collapsing it instantly.

He was losing this battle and he knew it. It was time to resort to his plan. Hidden behind the desk, Harry pulled out his stun baton and lit it with the stunner. The rod began to glow a healthy scarlet. It would be enough to disrupt the balance of magic. Satisfied, Harry held the baton next to his leg, careful not to touch it. He stood up again to face Voldemort sideways on so that his legs concealed the lit baton, while his wand was aimed at Voldemort. Merlin, he hoped this worked.

"Avada Kedavra!" screamed Voldemort, stabbing his wand at Harry.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Harry instantly, recreating the blend of magic that had saved him in the graveyard. The charm surged out of the end of his wand and zoomed toward Voldemort, hurtling toward the incoming stream of green light. Sure enough, the curses met mid-air and instantly turned a deep gold. The thread of light linked them, and Harry felt a wave of magic wash over him. It was happening again, just as his plan predicted! His wand began to vibrate in his hand and grow hot as wave after wave of pure magic surged through it. The golden thread held fast and the glowing ball of magic in the middle was spitting and throbbing violently, sending geysers of speaks in all directions, more powerful, more unstable and more deadly than the last time this had happened.

Harry glanced over at Voldemort, and was satisfied to see the look of surprise and fear cross his enemy's face. With the magic crackling all around them and the mental exertion that keeping the connection was taking, he found it really difficult to think of anything but the connection.

He glanced again at Voldemort, their eyes connecting for a fraction of a second before the golden thread spouted two dozen other threads that spiralled around them, forming a dome of light that encircled the two combatants. Harry could feel the breeze as the magic forced the air away from it. His hair was blowing in the artificial wind, his entire arm was vibrating and he was sweating under the force of the connection. He had to keep it going, he had to!

This connection was more powerful than the previous one, but just as unstable. Suddenly a bolt of golden lightning shot out of the dome and destroyed a metal filing cabinet, raining charred parchment all over the floor. It seemed that with Harry's new powers, it was more destructive as well. Harry glanced at Voldemort, and to his horror saw his enemy extend his other hand toward him, a second wand clasped firmly in his fingers. Harry hardly believed what he saw as a web of blue lightning left Voldemort's wand and shot toward him. Doing the only thing he could think of, he stepped to his left quickly, trying to maintain his concentration. His hand was growing hot as the magic surged through his wand and hand. The power roared in his ears, making it impossible to hear a thing. He tried to concentrate on forcing the fizzing centre of the connection closer to Voldemort, but his arms were aching as he struggled to hold the baton and the wand. How Voldemort was able to do two spells at once was unbelievable. Harry pushed the thought from his mind, concentrating on the connection, which was coming closer and closer to Harry. His hand was almost burning under the power of the connection.

BANG!

Another jet of golden jet of light had left the dome and shattered the staircase that led up to the Minister's office. As Harry watched, the dome grew bigger and bigger, its peak disappearing through the ceiling. The threads that formed the dome disappeared through the ceiling and the walls as the dome expanded. The amount of magic in the dome was incredible.

Voldemort shrieked in anger and cast aside his second wand, placing both hands back on his primary one. Harry watched in horror as the fizzing golden ball of energy moved slowly along the line toward him. He tried to force the power back down the connection, but he found himself unable to concentrate. The epicentre came closer and closer to the tip of Harry's wand, and he knew full well what would happen if it touched his wand; he was losing - it was time. Holding the glowing baton in his left hand, Harry raised it above his head. He saw a look of fear flash across Voldemort's face as he did the only thing that made sense. Harry hurled the baton at the wall of the dome.

It had the desired effect: too much power. The sudden infusion of light magic broke the delicate balance of the dome. The walls suddenly exploded outward, atomising everything within twenty metres, except for the combatants. There was a deafening boom as the magic exploded. Harry felt the floor beneath his feet disintegrate, and he began to fall.

The magic disappeared, along with everything inside its radius, and both Harry and Voldemort fell. Harry hit the ground hard, but luckily had landed on something soft. Glancing down, Harry realised that he had landed on a pile of cushions, decorated with fish. He quickly looked around to find himself in familiar surroundings. He stood up, finding himself once again in the archives of the Ministry. The familiar rows of shelves lined with paper stretched out before him and the walls were plastered with Muggle movie posters. He had landed in the cat's basket, but the cat, and indeed the owner, were nowhere to be seen. Voldemort also could not be seen. He must have landed on the other side of some shelves.

Looking up, a bizarre sight greeted Harry. A perfect sphere of the building had just…gone. Floors suddenly ended, walls just stopped and he could see four floors above him. Luckily, they had not breached the former Department of Magical Law Enforcement, or he would have received a lethal dose of radiation. As he looked up at the other floors, he could see that the cross-sections of walls were still glowing orange from the heat of the blast. Flammable material was burning on each floor.

Looking up through the floors he could see clouds forming on the ceiling. It was like the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, except it showed not stars, but rain clouds. Suddenly the rain began to fall, putting out the fires, as the magical sprinkler system started to work. Harry was drenched in ten seconds. The water helped to shake the weariness from his body. Shaking his head and wiping his hair from his eyes, Harry looked around, trying to find his enemy.

Voldemort had not been as lucky as Harry when he landed. He had landed on the cold hard floor, and was only now struggling to his feet. Harry saw him as he rounded the first set of shelves, the top corner of which had been disintegrated by the blast. The water must have woken him up. Knowing that he would not be disorientated for long, Harry seized his chance. He ran over, and using all his strength, he grabbed Voldemort's wand arm before he could utter a spell and kicked him in the jaw. In absence of his wand, Harry swung his hand back and summoning all the magic, he could punched Voldemort in the stomach, shouting the incantation of the Blasting Curse as he did. As his punch landed, a shower of green sparks burst from his fist. Voldemort received the force of a punch and a Blasting Curse to his chest and was launched up into the air, but Harry was far from done. He held out an arm.

"Accio Voldemort!" he shouted. Voldemort hadn't even landed before he was summoned back. He hurtled uncontrollably toward Harry, who pivoted on his left leg, bringing his right straight up into Voldemort's nose. The Dark Lord did a back somersault before landing on his face in the inch of water that had already built up, courtesy of the rain. Picking up Voldemort's wand, Harry levitated the Dark Lord from the floor and slammed him into one wall and then another, just as Moody had done to the ferret that was Malfoy. After four impacts, Harry allowed Voldemort to fall to the floor.

The Dark Lord lay facedown, unmoving, on a pile of spilled parchments. He slowly began to move, trying to find his wand. Harry used his foot to roll Voldemort over so that he was facing upward. Harry felt a shiver run up his spine, and his teeth began to chatter. The rain was icy cold and he began to shiver. Luckily, the material he wore, although white was thick enough not to go see-through when wet or it would be embarrassing. It was still lightweight, even though it was drenched. He shook the water from his eyelashes and stared down at the fallen Dark Lord, now bleeding from his nose and mouth. The smeared blood on his chin made him look like a vampire from a B-movie.

"Looking for this?" shouted Harry, pressing the tip to Voldemort's neck, his words being drowned by the falling rain.

"Are you going to kill me, Harry?" asked Voldemort, sitting up and staring him in the eye. He rose slowly to his feet, still maintaining his regal look although he was soaked through and his wet hair was sticking to his face. "Two words are all it would take."

"I should do it!" said Harry, raising the wand to Voldemort's face. He knew he should. He would not get a better chance than this. Voldemort was at his mercy, but he could not give him mercy. He didn't have a choice; he should kill him, right here, right now. All he had to do was say two little words. But Flamel had told him he couldn't do it. What if he failed? What if this curse didn't work? Voldemort was so fast, he wouldn't have time to draw a sword and do it that way. Anyway, he felt wrong killing an unarmed man.

"Then why do you hesitate?" asked Voldemort, his eyes burning into Harry's. "Use the power deep inside you. It could all be yours; all you have to do is kill me. Two words, Harry. Two words. Look into the darkness, become who you were born to be - become the next Dark Lord."

Harry stepped closer, aiming the wand right between his eyes. He knew that now was his chance. He could end it all, but the Killing Curse? Was he worth it? Could he even manage it? He had just mastered his own mind. Using the curse would set him back; he would be no better than Voldemort. Harry knew he had to kill Voldemort, for no prison could hold him; he had known that on the way here, but standing here now, victorious, it was a different matter. Could he kill an unarmed man?

"DO IT!" shouted Voldemort.

Harry sighed and lowered his wand. He knew he couldn't do it. "You're under arrest," said Harry.

"You fool," said Voldemort, a smirk appearing on his face. Suddenly he flicked his wrist and a second wand was in his hand. Harry was hit before he knew he had made a mistake. The lightning Voldemort used earlier erupted from his wand, snaking all over Harry's body. Electricity surged through his body, magnified by the rain. He screamed in pain as the curse lifted him off his feet. Pain invaded every corner of his body as he flew through the air. Harry felt his feet leave the ground, but the impact of landing never came. His whole body doubled up in pain as he thrashed against the agony. Harry opened his eyes to find himself hovering in mid-air with Voldemort standing in front of him, the sneer of victory on his features. The lightning surged through his limbs, setting his nerve endings alight with agony. He thrashed uncontrollably under the curse, all possibility of concentrating enough for a spell gone.

Suddenly the pain was gone. Harry was trapped in mid-air, unable to move as Voldemort stood before him, now holding his primary wand and aiming it at Harry, who was completely paralysed. He struggled against the spell, but his limbs were held taut and he was unable to move.

"You fought bravely," said Voldemort, his voice as cold as ice and victory written all over his face. "But in the end, there can only be one victor. I have waited months to get my hands on you, Potter. You, who challenged me, who defied me, must now be made an example. You once told me that you would be here when I learned that I could not take people's freedom from them. Well, I have taken the freedom from your precious Order, and you are not going to be around much longer. Your nobility would have sounded good on paper, but in practice, you never stood a chance."

With a flick of his wrist, Voldemort send Harry hurtling backwards into a set of shelves, which toppled over under his weight. The shelves crashed to the floor, with Harry falling on top. The metal edge of the shelves connected with his spine and Harry cried out in pain. He lay in the debris of the shelves, now littered with parchments, glaring at Voldemort for a second before he was hoisted up into the air once again.

"Do you honestly think you have won?" spat Harry. His cracked sanity suddenly found this immensely amusing. He threw his head back and began to laugh. Voldemort stood motionless, unable to understand the boy before him. Harry managed to control his laughter enough to speak. Turning his head to the side he spat out a mouthful of blood that had built up in his mouth. Turning back to Voldemort, Harry smirked again. There was no need to hide his abilities any more.

"Goodbye, Tom," he said, before disappearing in a ball of phoenix fire.

He was vaguely aware of the scream of anger that Voldemort let rip as Harry disappeared and reappeared a second later, on what was left of the floor above where he had been, looking down at the stunned Dark Lord. He could see his Stun-Baton, lying dormant on the edge of the level. His wand was floating somewhere in the water below. The room was flooded with water, upon which parchment was floating.

"POTTER!" hissed Voldemort, his voice lined with rage. Harry's sharp eyes scanned for the wand, eventually finding it floating near the desk; Harry summoned it to him.

"COME OUT AND FACE ME, POTTER!" spat Voldemort. Harry picked up the Stun-Baton and tucked it away, clipping it to his belt. It was time. Harry took a deep breath and then ran to the edge and jumped. He somersaulted in mid-air, and then cushioned his fall with a wandless and silent hovering charm as he landed. The Dark Lord spun around at the sound of the splash, just in time to be hit by Harry's disarming charm, which he had fired as he had landed. Voldemort was too quick though, throwing his wand in the air as the spell hit him, and then catching it a second later. However, Harry had bought himself the time he needed. Harry withdrew his Stun-Baton.

SECTUMSEMPRA! Harry non-verbally ignited the baton. The baton sprung to life, glowing a dark purple in the gloom. The Half-Blood Prince's spell for enemies was clearly dark. Harry had to be careful not to touch it. Harry's limited experience with the spell led him to believe it blasted holes in flesh. The rain picked up the light, making it sparkle even more. Voldemort managed to get another spell off, which zoomed toward Harry, shimmering in the rain. Harry swung the baton across his chest, clubbing away the curse with the Stun-Baton, and began to run toward Voldemort, his legs being dragged down by the water and his wet clothes. Harry ducked the next curse as he splashed toward his enemy and then used the Stun-Baton again to deflect the next. It seemed that his curse was more powerful than the incoming ones, as they did not dislodge it from the baton.

As Harry neared the Dark Lord, he dived at him. Voldemort spun away to the side and Harry missed with the slash, skidding to a halt on the wet floor. The water was nearly up to the top of his boots by this time, and his feet were becoming heavy. Harry swung again, but Voldemort jumped backwards. To Harry's shock, the Dark Lord landed not in the water, but on the water's surface. His jaw dropped as Voldemort spun away, treading lightly on the surface of the water, but not sinking.

"Jesus Christ," muttered Harry.

He splashed after Voldemort, almost knee deep in water and spraying it all over the place as he stomped after Voldemort, who glided lightly across the surface. Harry's legs were getting heavier with every step as he pursued Voldemort.

Suddenly the doors burst open. The water that had built up was suddenly free to escape, and washed like a tsunami out of the room, surging along the corridor. Standing in the doorway were five Black Watch Aurors, all aiming their wands at Harry as water rushed over their feet. One of them raised his wand to the ceiling. A jet of white light shot out and the rain instantly ceased.

"Destroy him!" shouted Voldemort.

The five instantly advanced on Harry, who held the glowing baton up defiantly. His eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for assets. He knew that since the Aurors were in flowing dress robes, if he could get them wet, they would find it hard to move. Harry glanced around again, to see Voldemort turn his back on Harry. He was leaving? As soon as Harry raised his baton, the five withdrew their own. Was it honour that stopped them drawing wands, or desire to beat Harry at his own game? Whatever their reason, they all matched his choice of weapon. Each ignited their un-modified baton with the only spell it could take: a Stunning Charm.

His Baton still glowing a dark purple with the Half-Blood Prince's spell, Harry stepped closer to the Aurors, who fanned out, encircling him, each carrying a glowing scarlet weapon, whose light reflected off the walls. Harry stood motionless waiting for the first attack to come. He glanced around, assessing the situation. This wasn't the movies; he couldn't take five on one with a series of acrobatic moves like an action hero. He was tired, and hurt.

He didn't have to wait long before the inevitable attack came; one Auror lunged at him from his left and Harry moved to intercept. He grabbed the Auror's wrist and spun on his foot, ducking under his arm. As he emerged behind the Auror, he had his arm bent painfully behind his back, and bent over forwards. Harry used him as a support, for in the same movement, Harry kicked off the ground and leaning on the Death Eater's back, kicked another in the jaw, sending the second one crashing to the ground with the splash. Not taking time to celebrate, Harry swung the captive Auror around to block the advance of the remaining three.

The Auror to his right took a swing, forcing Harry to duck, and sidestep to his left, so that his captive Auror was between him and his attacker. He had no sooner managed this, when another attack came from his left. Harry leaned back enough to avoid the blow, as he did, moving into the range of the Auror behind him.

Harry felt a pair of hands grab him from behind. He was wrenched away from his captive and thrown to the floor. Harry rolled as he hit the floor, spraying the inch of remaining water everywhere, as he skidded into a set of shelves. He looked up to see the shelves wobble, and the slowly begin to fall. In desperation Harry began to roll. Every inch of his clothes were now soaked as he rolled, over and over, just in time to escape the falling bookshelf which slammed into the floor, missing him by an inch.

Another Auror lunged at Harry who raised his baton to parry the attack. As the two batons met, a shower of red and purple sparks rained down on them. The Auror was must stronger and with a thrust of the baton, propelled Harry backwards. Harry stepped back but his heal hit the leg of an upturned chair. Harry lost his balance and came crashing down. Thinking quickly, Harry grabbed a fallen Auror's baton in his left hand and pressing it against his own, he formed an X shape.

"Stupefy!" he hissed, and the second baton burst to life, glowing a healthy red. Harry crossed them and held them up in an X-shape, blocking the attack from the Auror. Keeping the purple baton blocking the attack, Harry swung with the red one at the Auror. The man jumped back out of range, and stood, ready for Harry's next attack.

Harry looked up to see his five attackers surrounding him. The first two were back on their feet, and looked livid. Harry glanced around in desperation. All he saw was rows and rows of shelves, just like the ones that had nearly killed him just now…hang on…that's it! thought Harry.

Harry dropped his batons and drew both his wands from beneath his robes. He crossed his arms in front of him, pointing one wand out to his left, and the other to his right. As the Aurors began to advance, Harry cast the same spell with both wands.

"ACCIO SHELVES!"

A set of shelves on both sides, rushed towards Harry, who turned and ran. The Aurors who were a step behind, turned to see a heavy set of bookcase coming at them from both sides. Harry just escaped as the two bookcases smashes together with a tremendous clap, forming an Auror sandwich. Harry had no idea if the Aurors had survived the impact, but he had no time to find out. Quickly he glanced around, searching for a sign of Voldemort. It was unlike him to run. Where was he leading Harry, and why had he let others interfere when he had refused to do so in the graveyard? Harry turned around just in time to see Voldemort disappear through the emergency exit to the Tubes. It was the same exit Harry had taken when he had been on the run.

Pausing only to pick up his wand, Harry set off in pursuit, his limbs aching and his clothes heavy with water. He climbed through the poster and into the tunnel, casting a drying charm over himself as he did so. His clothes immediately felt lighter as he stepped out of the water and into the stone corridor. His legs felt like bricks as he ran – the magic, fighting, continuous impacts of curses and the floor were taking their toll. Fatigue consumed Harry's limbs as he sprinted for the exit. Neither he nor Voldemort paid any heed to the asking them to transfigure their clothes back into Muggle attire. Harry knew he looked like a ninja with the high boots, loose flowing fabric, and chest-plate, all of purest white.

The door at the far end of the passage was just closing as Harry entered the passage. Harry sprinted the length of the tunnel, keeping his wand ready the whole time. He grasped the handle of the door with a gloved hand and pushed it down. He felt the lock snap open, but when he pushed the door, he couldn't move it. He looked up at the door to find that the edge seemed to have been welded to the wall. Stepping back, Harry aimed his wand at the wall just to the side of the door.

"REDUCTO!" he shouted.

There was a tremendous bang as the wall exploded into a cloud of dust. Harry covered his face as pieces of brick shot out of the wall on both sides. The door was launched off its hinges and out onto the platform. Screams erupted around him as he emerged from the hole. There was movement all around him as terrified Muggles dived to the floor or ran about in a panic. From the explosion, they probably though the platform had been bombed. Harry glanced one way then another, looking for the billowing black robes of his nemesis. There were Muggles running everywhere, many in long coats due to the winter weather, which made Voldemort almost impossible to spot as his robes didn't stand out in a sea of flowing coats.

"YOU, FREEZE!" shouted a voice to Harry's right. He spotted Voldemort, one track over from his, marching toward the staircase. A British Transport Police officer had challenged Voldemort, ordering him to freeze and holding his truncheon above his head, while talking into the radio clipped to his chest. He never stood a chance; Voldemort didn't even break stride, he simply raised his wand and in a flash of green light, the policeman was no more. Screams escalated as the man was murdered before people's eyes. His lifeless body fell to the floor with an undignified thump.

"VOLDEMORT!" shouted Harry, getting the Dark Lord's attention. The elder man turned to face Harry. They stood for a second facing each other, separated by a set of tube tracks. Voldemort glared at Harry, apparently not surprised that he had survived. Voldemort hesitated for just a second before raising his wand, a jet of orange light bursting from the tip and zooming toward Harry. He dived forward onto his stomach as the ball of energy slammed into the wall, blowing it to pieces. Harry looked over the tracks in time to see Voldemort jump down onto the tracks another platform away.

Harry raised his head from having been covering himself, for fear of fallen debris. He was face to face with a terrified old lady, who was lying on her stomach next to a young girl, who was in tears. Harry flashed a small smile before picking himself up. As he ran forward toward the tracks, toward Voldemort, he raised his voice and shouted to the Muggles. "EVERYONE STAY DOWN, THE POLICE ARE ON THEIR WAY! EVERYTHING IS UNDER CONTROL!"

Harry had to get to Voldemort but that meant crossing the tracks and he had always been warned to stay away from the tracks, as they were electrified. To his horror he saw a light coming from the tunnel. A train was coming! Harry knew he had to get Voldemort, even though he could see the train coming down the tunnel. He didn't have a choice.

Harry ran to the edge of the platform and jumped, casting a hovering charm on himself as he did so. His feet left the ground, as the dazzling light from the front of the tube filled his eyes. He felt the rush of wind as the train neared, and the sound of brakes squealed in his ears. The train missed by inches. Thanks to his magic, Harry jumped a ten-metre gap and landed easily on the other side, to the amazement of all those watching.

Harry hadn't taken a single pace before a bolt of magic was heading his way. Harry raised a shield in time, but the force of the spell launched him off his feet and into the side of the train that had just managed to stop, knocking the air out of him and slamming his already pounding head into the glass. He felt the window crack under his weight as he hit the carriage. The glass shattered and he disappeared through the window, landing on something soft and warm. He covered his head as the glass from the window rained down on top of him.

As it subsided, he looked up, shaking the glass from him. He was in a carriage of the train. He had landed on a businessman, dressed and a young Chinese girl. Both looked terrified as Harry rose to his feet. He looked quickly around the carriage. Everyone was crouched down, arms raised to protect heads, and were staring at him, eyes wide with horror.

"Police," said Harry quickly, introducing himself. "Stay down and don't move!" It was a weak story, but he wouldn't hang around long enough for it to be questioned. Where the hell was Voldemort?

He turned and looked out of the window. He saw Voldemort standing in the middle the next set of tracks on the far side of the platform. He was standing still, calmly watching Harry. To Harry's horror, he could see another light shining on the side of Voldemort's face. He was standing directly in front of an oncoming train! What the hell is he doing?

Suddenly it all fell into place! Voldemort needed Harry alive for one last task. Riddle needed there to be a major incident on the tubes. The Muggles would hear about all this magic being used to kill innocents, and Harry Potter would be identified as being present. The Prime Minister would hear how Harry had attacked the Tubes.

Voldemort wanted the Muggles to make the first move and Harry had placed all the armed forces on high alert, even setting a date for the attack with the Prime Minister. Voldemort wanted the Muggles to attack – he was counting on the anger of the wizards to unite them under his leadership. Harry could see the headlines now. The Prophet would say how Harry had marred the ceremony of the new leader with an attack on Muggles, like the villain he was. The Muggles would retaliate and then Voldemort's commandos would march against them. Thousands would die, and Voldemort would be viewed as the saviour of the Wizarding world.

Harry noticed behind him that everyone on the train was now pushing to be able to see what was happening outside. Harry's entire body ached and half of his face was covered in caked blood. Taking a breath, Harry climbed through the window, back onto the platform. He aimed his wand at the Dark Lord.

Suddenly the second train emerged from the tunnel to Harry's left, heading straight toward Voldemort at full speed. The Dark Lord turned calmly to face the oncoming train. The noise of the train masked the incantation, but before Harry's eyes, sparks erupted from the undercarriage of a train, spraying the platform and tracks with a fountain of glowing sparks. The train bucked violently and mounted the platform! The whole train was launched into the air and slammed down on the platform, sending chunks of platform and sparks in all directions. Screams erupted as people dived out of the way. The driver must have hit the brakes, as sparks flew up from every wheel as it skidded across the tiled platform with a sickening whistle. The screams were masked by the sound of the train scraping over the platform, as it hurtled toward Harry, grinding along the ceiling, sending lights and ceiling tiles raining down. The oncoming train was sliding not only toward Harry, but also toward the train he had just climbed out of, which was loaded with people. The two trains would collide and God only knew how many people would die if nothing was done.

The smartest move would have been to run, but Harry couldn't. He pulled his second wand out of his belt and. holding one in each hand, aimed both at the oncoming train.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" he shouted, pouring his mind, body and soul into a single jinx, channelled it through two wands, summoning every ounce of magic he possessed. Two beams of white light shot out of his wand and connected to the front of the train. A curved wall of white light formed over the front of the train, almost like a shield, slowing it down. Harry felt himself break into a cold sweat with exertion, as his single spell tried to stop over two hundred tonnes of steel hurtling toward him. The dull ache in his limbs, the pounding in his head made it impossible to concentrate, but he had to. The train kept on coming – there were fifty tonnes of metal per carriage, and there were a lot of them. The momentum was incredible. Sparks flew up from the wheels and screams filled Harry's ears. The wheels scraping on the concrete of the platform pierced every corner of his mind, his ears feeling as if they would burst. He felt his legs go weak and begin to shake as he poured all the energy he had into the spells. He had to stop the train. If the two hit, the death toll would be horrific.

Harry tried to concentrate on stopping the train, but it didn't seem to be having much effect. The train was heading straight toward him; it was slowing, but not fast enough – the train was too big and too fast. It would mow Harry down and then slam into the stationary train, crushing the carriage and killing hundreds on both trains. Harry broke off the spells, sensing the futility. He took careful aim at the wheels.

"REDUCTO!" A jet of red light burst from his wand and shot into the undercarriage of the train on the right.

BOOM!

The wheels were blown apart with a huge bang. The whole train lurched to one side, the corner of the carriage landing on the platform, sending more sparks into the air. The jagged metal scraping the platform sent a sharp whistling and scraping into the air, like nails on a chalkboard times a thousand. It was leaning at a steep angle to one side, and the people on board were not going to be comfortable. He thought about levitating the train, but that would stop any friction on the floor and the crash would be faster. He thought about shrinking the train, but it would crush the people inside. He also thought about transfiguring the front carriage, but he didn't know what into or how. He only had one spell he could do.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" shouted Harry again, using both wands to perform the spell. He poured every ounce of concentration he had into stopping the train. The two beams of light formed the white wall again, completely covering the front of the train. The added friction of the collapsed wheels on the front car, which Harry had blown apart, helped. Harry could feel the train slowing, but at the same time knew it would never work. It could never come to a stop inside the fifteen metres it had between it and the train behind Harry. Harry held the connection as long as he could, willing the train to stop, summoning every ounce of magic he had inside him. At the last possible second, Harry dived to the side, breaking the connection. His feet missed the train by inches as he moved. He landed on his shoulders and rolled back up onto his feet.

"ACCIO TRAIN!" he shouted, once again aiming both wands at the train. The pull of his wands changed the direction of the train ever so slightly, just enough for it to crash headlong into the side of the first carriage of the train that had almost hit Harry. The impact was immense, completely shattering the front of both trains, leaving nothing by a crumpled wreck behind. In hitting only the first carriage, the collision only destroyed the driver's compartment, rather than a car full of people. Those in the moving train would have been launched off their feet and everyone would have been shaken, but the death toll should be minimal; at least Harry hoped that that was the case. Had the drivers been in their compartments, they would have perished, possibly along with those nearest the front, but the rest should have survived. Harry's knees gave way beneath him and he fell to the platform in exhaustion. The effort of slowing the train had taken its toll on his body.

Raising a hand limply, Harry used his wand to shatter the windows of the front carriages so the people could get out. He took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to ready himself. Rising to his feet, he turned to try to find Voldemort once more.

Voldemort had gotten his story; the trains had been attacked and Harry had been seen to do it. It was too late and he would have to answer to the Prime Minister for this, but that was the least of his concerns. Now, Harry had to make sure that Riddle didn't hurt any more people. He could hear screams coming from up the escalators. What more was Voldemort planning to do? Did he want wizards duelling in the streets, in plain view of Muggles? Probably, but Harry couldn't just stay down here. He had to go up and face him!

Harry hurried across the platform, shouting for the Muggles to stay down as he did. He ran up the escalators, taking two steps at a time, in hot pursuit of the soon-to-be High Chancellor.

As he emerged from the Tubes onto the city streets, he immediately covered his eyes from the dazzling Christmas day sunlight. It was so bright it blinded him. He recoiled for a second, before removing his hand, squinting in the sunlight, looking for his prey. As he removed his hand, he instantly had to duck as over a ton of metal hurtled over his head.

The airborne taxi narrowly missed his head, as it smashed its way through the front window of the coffee shop on the corner, raining glass down on the patrons as the car landed at the till. As Harry stared helplessly at the destruction, a red curse hurtled passed his head and into the underside of the fallen car. The whole thing detonated, launching a huge orange fireball out of the shop and into the street, incinerating anyone unlucky enough to be having a coffee. Harry rolled away from the stairs, ducking to avoid the fireball. He rolled back up to his feet as the flames receded.

"CALL NINE-NINE-NINE!" he shouted to a man in a suit with a mobile phone. He turned his attention back to the street, looking for a figure in black robes. He glanced both ways up and down the street, trying to find his target. Muggles were running everywhere in panic, making it near impossible to pick out a single person. Voldemort had created panic and used it to his advantage, disappearing into the crowd.

They were at an intersection between two large roads, each carrying four lanes of traffic. There was an underpass beneath the road Harry was now on, carrying another four lanes of cars and lorries, now slamming on the brakes. Cars had screeched to a halt around him and below him, as the coffee shop exploded. The roads were an instant stand-still - doors flew open and the owners fled in panic leaving their cars to completely clog-up central London. Harry jumped up onto the bonnet of an abandoned Land Rover and then up onto the roof.

From his vantage point, he could see more clearly. The giant glass walls of City University Hospital reflected the flickering flames now eating away at what was left of the coffee shop. Across the overpass, giant glass buildings of Abby and NatWest stood overlooking the scene. Through the glass walls, Harry could see lines of office workers staring and pointing down at the confusion, at the reclining flames and the plumes of smoke now rising from the entrance to the tube station and the former coffee shop. Even those in the McDonalds to his right were cowering below plastic tables, all thoughts of their greasy, gooey burgers forgotten. Harry's eyes returned to the crowd, scanning for any signs of a cloak.

He didn't see a cloak, but he did see a bolt of light surge toward him. With a flick of his wand, Harry conjured a shield. The curse hit him square on, but the shield held. The force was tremendous. Harry was launched into the air, landing painfully on the bonnet of another car. The windscreen cracked as he landed. He turned to see the face of a terrified woman staring out at him from the cracked glass.

"RUN!" he ordered, rising to his feet. As he jumped back up onto the Land Rover, high enough to see clearly, he saw a jet of green light hurtling toward him. It was time to beat Voldemort at his own game. Harry raised his wand, aiming it at the Fiesta in front of him. The Fiesta rose into the air, right into the path of the incoming spell. The car burst into flame in mid-air, sending a giant ball of flame into the air. Harry wanted to hurl the flaming wreckage at Voldemort, but there were too many people in the way. Cursing, he released the car, which fell back to earth with a mighty bang. Harry jumped down from the Land Rover and started forcing his way through the crowd to where Voldemort was hiding.

BOOM!

A lorry fifty metres in front of Harry burst into flames, sparking a symphony of screams as the remaining Muggles ran for their lives. Voldemort was going for the show, causing lots of explosions and displaying his power for the Muggles to see. After today they would not be able to deny the existence of wizards. Harry had always learned that flashes of light, puffs of smoke and loud bangs were the signs of ineptitude, but today, they were all for show. Voldemort was going for the wow-factor, and he was succeeding. Suddenly, Harry spotted a figure in flowing black robes.

"REDUCTO!" shouted Harry, unleashing the curse toward Voldemort, whom he had just spotted. The curse surged through the crowd and straight into Voldemort's shield. With a clang, the curse ricocheted off the bubble and into a traffic light. The pole came crashing down like a fallen tree, the light smashing into the roof of a car deserted by its owner, crushing the roof of the car.

"Oops," muttered Harry, forcing his way through the crowd toward Voldemort.

There was a sudden, urgent knock at the door. The Prime Minister hadn't even had time to say 'come in', before the door burst open and a man dressed in the formal green suit of the army strode in, his face a look of fear and determination.

"What the...?" began the Prime Minister.

"Sir," said the general, crossing the room. "You need to see this." The Prime Minister watched as the General, a member of the COBRA council, produced a laptop computer from the leather bag he carried. He opened the lid and an image appeared on the screen. The Prime Minister's jaw dropped as he realised what he was seeing.

A man in black robes had appeared from an underground station and was blowing things up left, right and centre. The Prime Minister was speechless as he watched the man in black, who had a haunted white face and flowing black hair, send a beam of light into a building, which erupted into a large orange fireball. That was Lord Voldemort! He should be in prison, thought the Prime Minister. Maybe Potter had been telling the truth.

Just as his thoughts turned to the boy, that very person appeared on the screen. Potter ran up from the same tube-stop. Before the Prime Minister's eyes, he and Lord Voldemort began to hurl cars at each other, as more parts of the street exploded. The Prime Minister watch wa black taxi-cab sail through the window of a Costa Coffee before the whole building erupted into flame.

"Prime Minister, this is coming in live from a military helicopter over central London," said the general. "There are two more helos in the air, keeping News choppers out of the way, but we can't contain ground units. Sir, we don't know what these people want, but they are destroying buildings here. I monitored the police frequency and SO19 have been deployed - they'll be there any second."

"I…" stammered the Prime Minister, staring at the screen. What was going on? Potter had promised to stop a war, not bring one onto national television. He didn't seem to be fighting this Voldemort, more destroying as much as he was. Was Potter in league with him? Why had he not killed Voldemort, and why had this fight erupted onto the streets in broad daylight? Had it been one big ruse from day one? Had he been tricked?

"Sir," said the general. "I strongly advise you to leave London." The Prime Minister ignored him as he was too deep in thought.

He hadn't heard back from Colonel Evans since he had phoned to report that Potter had demanded another twenty troops. Where were they? Why hadn't they been deployed to protect the people? This had to mean that Potter had tricked him. Jesus, that meant that Potter had stopped the military build up, delaying it until tomorrow. He also had removed forty of the most elite fighting force in the world. The Prime Minister recalled him mentioning a spell that allowed wizards to control people. That meant he had the SAS on his side, not theirs. Jesus! The Prime Minster had to mobilise the army.

Jesus, how could I been so stupid?

"I'm not leaving," he said, his jaw set firmly. He pressed a button on the telephone on his desk. "Beth, get me Colonel McGregor at Poole."

"Sir," said the general, seemingly put out by the Prime Minster venturing to the Marines and not the army. "If you mobilise the army now, I can have London locked down by sunset."

"Not yet," said the Prime Minister. He would not let the man declare martial law. "Leave me." The General hesitated for a second before turning to leave. Just then, a voice with a thick Scottish accent sounded on the speaker phone.

"McGregor here, sir," said the voice.

"Colonel," said the Prime Minister. "The situation we discussed has happened. Send in your men."

"Yes, sir," came the reply. "We have an ambulance ready. The siren means we can move through the traffic faster. My men can be inside the Ministry of Magic in twelve minutes."

"There's a new element, Colonel," said the Prime Minister. "We have sent in forty of Colonel Evan's SAS men from Hereford. It is possible that they are being controlled by the wizards, and will see anyone who intervenes as hostile."

"Sir?" queried the Colonel. "Are you asking us to fire on our own men?"

"I am authorising you to use any and all force necessary to protect our society," said the Prime Minister. "Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter and anyone who stands in your way - take them all down."

XXXXX

The road was wide enough for two lanes of traffic in each direction, and crossed another similar road a few metres down the road. The traffic lights were green, but the cars were abandoned and the crossroads blocked by halted cars from the intersecting Hampstead Road. Both sides of the road were bordered with skyscrapers. Harry was a few hundred metres from the tube stop he had come out of. He ran past City University Hospital and a Hilton Hotel, following the figure in black, who seemed to be moving swiftly through the crowd, firing off curses into random buildings. There was a crash as the window of a building on the right shattered under the force of a curse. Harry watched helplessly from a distance as Voldemort fired a curse into the ground, splitting it like an earthquake inside a pizza restaurant. From the signposts, Harry knew that the British Library was further down the road, as well as Kings Cross station, which he was more than familiar with. There would be hundreds of people there, and Voldemort could cause havoc. If he blew open the gateway to Platform 9 ¾, he could expose their world completely to the Muggles, or he could destroy the whole station, bringing not only London, but the south of England to a standstill.

Harry jumped up onto the bonnet of a car and cast a hovering charm on himself as he kicked off the roof. He jumped thirty feet into the air, sailing an equal distance forward as he passed over the crowd. The loose white fabric of his clothes flailed in the wind as he sailed back down to earth, landing on the roof of a Mercedes, which caved under his weight, shattering the windows. He jumped again, repeating the spell and launching himself into the air.

CRASH!

A bus that had just rolled out of the bus stop at Euston Station and tube stop had been knocked on its side by a curse while loaded with passengers. Harry jumped for the third time, soaring through the air and landing in a clear patch of pavement. He began to run, his heart pounding in his chest, digging deep for more energy. He had to go faster, he had to cut Voldemort off. He couldn't allow him to reach Kings Cross.

Voldemort passed the old red brick building of the library, the outside covered in scaffolding. On the next corner past that was London St Pancras and Kings Cross; two adjacent buildings, two train stations and a joint tube stop, comprising one of the busiest train and Tube stations in the city. On Christmas morning, God only knew how many people would be there. Harry jumped one more time, this time coming down in front of the Dark Lord. Voldemort looked mildly surprised at Harry's landing. He shot him a sneer before shooting a Killing Curse at him. Harry stepped to the side, avoiding the curse

"Sectumsempra!" hissed Harry, sending the purple curse toward Voldemort, who vanished in a swish of his cloak, reappearing a few metres to his right.

Before Harry could do anything else, there was a roar of an engine and a screech of tyres as a police car screeched to a halt a few metres away. The car was decorated with orange and blue chevrons and topped with flashing blue lights. Instantly, two men got out, dressed in blue overalls, topped with armour and a helmet. Each was armed with a machine gun, just like the SAS. The code SO19 was written on the side of the car.

"ARMED POLICE! DROP THE WEAPON!" shouted one of the Muggles as a second car pulled up next to it. Harry hesitated, as four machine guns were levelled at him and Voldemort. He quickly turned to Voldemort, who looked as if he was facing a House Elf, a level of superiority and disgust etched into his face.

"DON'T DO IT!" shouted Harry, almost pleading, but it was too late. The second car, the one nearest Voldemort, suddenly flew into the air, turning over as it did so. The astonished men who had gotten out could only stand and watch as their vehicle hovered above them. It stayed still for no more than a second, before it was launched backwards across the street, crashing through the glass walls of a building. Harry saw the six four astonished policemen, turn back to Voldemort and Harry, clearly the cause of this confusion, levelling their weapons. Harry instantly conjured a shield designed to stop matter, not magic.

There was a series of loud cracks as all four men opened fire. Several of the bullets bounced off Harry's shield, just as one of the officers was blasted off his feet by a jet of blue light. Harry flicked his wand at Voldemort, sending a Stunner toward him, if only to stop the slaughter of the Muggles. Voldemort sidestepped, sending another curse into the ground in front of the second policeman. The ground exploded, launching the copper into the air and blowing his body to pieces.

Harry had to stop this. As another volley of shots impacted his shield as well as Voldemort's, Harry raised a hand to the copper. The man was thrust backwards by an invisible force, landing on the concrete of the street, and then forced to keep rolling. As Voldemort launched another green curse at the final copper, Harry levitated the man over the curse. Voldemort shot a sneer at Harry before another Killing Curse. Reacting quickly, Harry dived to the side, just in time to avoid the incoming curse. In doing so, he lost concentration on the flying policemen, who fell back toward Earth. Voldemort, sensing his opportunity, turned left and ran down an alley, past a taxi-ramp and into London St Pancras station.

Harry ran forward toward the falling policeman, raising his hand. The policeman was pulled sharply toward him and brought to a stop, hovering in front of Harry.

"Your weapons are no good," said Harry quickly, holding the man in mid-air to make sure he had his full attention. "I will handle him. If you want to make yourself useful, evacuate the station and Kings Cross. Don't let anybody come in." With that, he dropped the man on the ground and sprinted after the Dark Lord, his legs complaining with every step.

As Harry surged through the sliding glass doors of St Pancras, he smashed the fire alarm with his fist. Instantly sirens went off and red lights began to flash on the wall. A voice appeared over the PA system, asking people to leave. Harry took a few more steps before seeing a flash of movement to his right. He turned but he was too slow. The curse hit him in his back, launching him into a wall. Using his wand, Harry softened the impact, grateful that the armour had absorbed most of the curse. Bouncing off the wall, Harry landed on his feet and dived behind the deserted coffee shack.

Peering out, he could see a newsagent on the left side of the room, in front of which escalators were going up to the platforms. Around the back of the escalators, near Harry, was a line of cash machines, and around the far side were the ticket windows, now sealed. To his right was a sandwich stand. It was by this that Voldemort was standing.

Voldemort stepped calmly away from cover, giving no sign that he had just run for the best part of a mile down the road, launching curses left, right and centre all the way. He stepped closer, his wand raised. Harry felt the whole coffee shack shake as another curse slammed into it.

"Harry?" called an icy voice. "Come out and face me, Harry." There was a pause and then the shack shook again under the force of another curse. Harry was forced to whip his leg out of the way as the boiling water machine ruptured and a cascade of scalding hot water narrowly missed him.

"Come out, Potter!" called the icy voice again. "Face me like a man."

"At least I am a man," Harry shouted back. He peered out from his hiding place. He was sitting in a big puddle of cooling water, which was expanding over the floor.

"Ready to die now, Potter?" Voldemort asked, stepping closer and raising his wand. As Riddle took another step, Harry saw that Voldemort too was standing in the water, his cloak beginning to soak it up. Maybe Harry could conjure a water monster or drown him or something. He was running out of ideas and ached all over from his fight.

"You first," said Harry. He suddenly had an idea. He took a deep breath and rose to his feet, still in cover of the shack. He pulled out the stun baton and lit it with a spell, causing it to glow a pale blue colour. Preparing himself, Harry stepped out of cover, holding the baton behind his back. He stepped out further, his footsteps creating ripples in the water, and echoing around the deserted station.

"Do you honestly think you can win?" asked Voldemort, levelling his wand at Harry. "Do you honestly think you are a match for me?" His tone was superior and icy, while his eyes flashed with malice. He paused for just a second, before moving.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" Harry cast the spell on himself, lifting himself high into the air, and dropping the baton as he did so. The blue lightning spell glowed sky blue as it descended, and when it hit the water, it sent bolts of blue lightning snaking across the water's surface, heading toward Voldemort's legs. The man screamed as thousands of volts of electricity surged through his body. Harry, hanging from the rafters, could see the blue bolts dancing around his feet as the man shook under the force of thousands of volts coursing through his limbs.

"Finite Incantatem!" said Harry, aiming his wand at the baton, which faded into dormancy. Harry couldn't return to the ground if it was all electrified. After the baton has ceased glowing, Harry let go of the rafter, and dropped towards the floor. He did make it.

"AHHHHHHH!"

With a sickening battle cry, a figure in black rocketed into the air. Harry didn't have time to react before the flapping cloak came crashing into him as he descended with the force of a train. Harry was caught in the stomach; he lost all control as he hurtled towards the hard ground. With a splash and a thud, he landed painfully on his back in an inch of cold water. He managed to take one breath before a hand clamped over this throat. He was pinned down by Voldemort kneeling on his chest, holding him in place by his throat.

Voldemort's other hand rose high above his head, the jagged piece of metal he held shimmering in the sunlight coming in through shattered windows for just an instant, before it plummeted down into his left shoulder. Harry bit down hard, trying to block out the pain as the jagged steel pierced his shoulder and the floor, pinning him in place.

"You think simple Muggle tricks are a match for me?" hissed Voldemort, his eyes burning with anger and his robes steaming with evaporating water. "You think I can be killed so easily, by someone so weak?" Harry lashed out with his free arm, aiming a punch at Voldemort's face, but he was too slow.

"CRUCIO!"

Pain surged through his body, inflaming the nerve endings and boiling his blood. All thought left his mind as the pain consumed him. His body thrashed in the water, only acting to saw his arm against the jagged metal holding him in place. The pain was gone a second later, and Harry lay still for a second ,shaking, before Voldemort was back.

Harry felt his entire body rise into the air. He managed to stifle a scream as his left shoulder was torn from the jagged steel holding him in place. Free from the water, but not from the spell, Harry rose into the air, turning upright as he did. Voldemort stood below him, icily watching as Harry rose into the air.

Where the hell had his wand gone? He needed to find it to have any hope of escape. He had to get Voldemort back to the Ministry, before he harmed anyone else.

Harry didn't have any more time to think about it as he was launched backwards into the wall of the building. His head and back slammed into the bricks before bouncing off. Harry crashed to the ground in a heap, gasping for breath as his limbs once again were consumed by the icy pain of the Cruciatus Curse. His body thrashed as his mind tried to numb the pain, while the Dark Lord stood over him, his eyes flickering with malice as he sustained the curse, pouring into it every ounce of hatred and anger in him.

At length, the curse was removed, and Harry lay steaming on the ground, his limbs too weak to move. This had been a really bad idea. What made him think he could take on Voldemort? He had lost, and the whole country would lose with him. This plan had been folly from day one. He should never have come.

"Look at yourself," said Voldemort softly. Harry glanced around, desperately seeking his dropped wand. It was here somewhere. All around he could see people running away from the havoc they were causing. The windows were all shattered, the main road was in ruins, and some people had gathered to watch, though they kept a safe distance. Where was that wand?

"Look at yourself," repeated Voldemort. "You are pathetic. As my right hand man, you had everything. When you switched bodies you had a choice; you could have sided with me. Instead, you chose death. You ran to those you call friends, those too weak to survive. Your precious family were what dragged you down in the first place, installing feelings of compassion and love - weaknesses, Potter, words made up simply to give pride to the mediocre and the weak, to make the weak think more highly of themselves. Love cannot even be defined - why, Potter? Because it doesn't exist - it is an illusion designed by those with power to compensate those without for their lack of it. You are so caught up in the concept, you have given up what you did have; power, respect and potential, and this is how you come before me now: weak and feeble, with no real cause to fight for but your own survival. Dressed in white, Potter, how pure do you think you are? You're a monster, a murderer."

"In the past," coughed Harry, rolling onto his back. Voldemort's words meant nothing. He knew he was just, he knew he was a good person.

"Then what have you come here for today, if not to kill?" hissed Voldemort. "Look at yourself, how your blood stains the white of your clothes. White, Light, shows all its weaknesses, where it bleeds, where it is dirty, and when it gets wet, when tears or water touch it, it becomes transparent, offering no protection, just like you. Black, Darkness, hides its wounds, hides the dirt, the pain and does its job. It's impossible to keep white clean, just as it is impossible to keep those you fight to protect clean from the darkness. They'd throw you to the wolves to make themselves better off. They are tainted, don't you see, on their way to darkness. Anger and vengeance build in their hearts with every day. You are fighting for a cause that does not exist."

"They deserve a choice," said Harry, his eyes still seeking his wand. Suddenly his eyes picked out his wand, lying in the remains of the coffee shack. Harry looked from the wand up to Voldemort.

"Then I will give you a choice," said Voldemort, aiming the wand at Harry's head. "One last chance. Join me, or die."

"DIE!" screamed Harry suddenly, lashing out at Voldemort with his leg. He hit Voldemort in the stomach and then sprang up from his shoulders to his feet. He extended an arm and his wand jumped up into it. Harry caught the wand, just as Voldemort tried to raise his. Harry did the last thing he was expecting: he grabbed the Dark Lord, pulling him into a hug.

With that, Harry disappeared in a ball of flame, dragging the Dark Lord with him. He reappeared in the Ministry of Magic, pushing Voldemort to the ground as he did so. Not giving him time to react, Harry disappeared again, Flaming back to the Entrance Hall. There were twelve SAS men in full black combat gear waiting for people to come out. Harry crashed to his knees the moment, he reappeared.

"Jesus, are you alright?" asked one of them as Harry tried to stand up. He was covered in dirt, blood and ash, was soaked through and looked a right state.

"Give me some explosive," said Harry, as the soldier approached. "Quickly!"

One of the men handed Harry a paper block with a small clock attached. "Set time with this knob," said the man. "Press here to start the timer and here to stop it." With that, the men disappeared behind columns and the security desk. Harry pocketed the C4.

"It won't be long now," said Harry, picking up the backpack with Arctic Thunder in it and throwing it over his shoulder. "Stay sharp." He took a second to compose himself. He ached all over, was cold, tired and in pain. His head throbbed and his mind was numb. All that remained was the kill, and he had to be seen doing it. This was all, the final conflict.

He flamed back to Voldemort, appearing in the middle of the passage as Voldemort turned to face him. Harry slipped to the side, disappearing down an adjacent passage. It was his turn to lead the pursuit now.

"Catch me if you can, arsehole!" he shouted over his shoulder. He had studied the blueprints of the Ministry and knew that along the next passage was a dead end. That end was directly above the Auditorium where the ceremony was being held. Harry checked his watch. It was ten past eleven. The ceremony was a little late. It was time to give the signal. Harry turned the corner and removed the C4 from his pocket, winding it to three seconds. With that he waited. Voldemort stepped around the corner, his eyes burning with anger, his wand level.

"Nowhere to run, boy," said Voldemort, marching forward with his wand raised, while Harry stood with his arms at his sides. "How will your father feel, knowing you ran like a coward from me?" Harry scowled at him, knowing that his father would be proud of him for tricking Voldemort. He removed the C4 from behind his back, holding it up for Voldemort to see.

"If I were you," he said calmly, "I'd raise a shield." With that, he pressed the button and slammed the explosive onto the floor in front of him, the soft pliable plastic flattening into the floor.

Voldemort's eyes grew wide and he snapped a shield into place, just in time. The explosion was deafening in the confined space. Harry's shield protected him from he flames as the explosion tore the floor apart, and Harry and Voldemort began to fall.

XXXXX

The national anthem had just begun and the clock on the wall read five-to. James Potter, having cleaned himself up a bit and having removed the beard, slipped silently through the ranks, unnoticed by the audience of Black Watch, some of whom he had once worked with. No one questioned the latecomers, or the fact that some of them were rather short. They slipped amongst the Black Watch, dressed to match, assuming positions around the hall.

The main floor of the room, in front of the stage was a sea of black. The Black Watch were out in force, standing in perfect ranks, equally spaced and snapped to attention. On the right side of the room in front of the stage was an area of green. The newly formed Commandos (as Sirius had explained on the way down to the Auditorium) consisted of the Muggleborns and Half-Bloods working in the Ministry, who had been forced to join an army that would be marched to its death. They wore robes which were patterned with the green, brown and beige blobs of army camouflage, which was topped by a grassy-green coloured cloak.

Above them were two levels of balconies. Both of them were packed with civilians, under the watch of several Black Watch Aurors who lined the steps at both ends of the rows of seats. They were stood up, and holding the provided song cards, giving the words of the national anthem, which at present was filling the air. James watched some of the Order position themselves up on the balcony. At the front of the room was a stage. A black curtain was draped behind it, as if the country was in mourning, which ironically, it was.

Right, to business, thought James, as he passed the rows of singing men. Where was Dumbledore? He was not on the stage, nor in the crowd, yet he was scheduled to be executed here today. If they could free Dumbledore, they had a greater chance of success. If I were holding the most powerful wizard on earth, where would I keep him? wondered James. He had no idea, but he knew there would be a lot of security around him.

He raised his hand to his face, as if to scratch his nose, or adjust his veil, the purpose was to bring the Frog-Card that was hidden up his sleeve close to his mouth. "Anyone got eyes on Albus?"

"They won't bring him out until the last second," said Frank from somewhere in the room. "Too much chance for an escape and it's more dramatic. Remember, this is a coup d'theatre, a big show designed to capture your boy and to show the public who's in charge, even though it's not necessary at this point." James took one more glance around before heading into the ranks of Aurors.

"Okay," said James. "Take positions. Rachel, stay near the stage. When it all hits the fan, you get Dumbledore out of there, okay?"

"Got it," came the hushed reply.

James walked calmly around the back of the bottom level, behind the Black Watch, into a section of them who wore red bands on their right arms. They did not wear veils, even though they had their hoods up. James walked along the side of the ranks, picking out faces he recognised.

The singing of the anthem was reaching its climax as James approached three Aurors he recognised, and in fact had once commanded.

"Are your wives proud of your career change?" he hissed over their shoulders. Each turned their heads to face him, their eyes bulging in recognition. Glancing around, he could see Mad Eye walking between the ranks, his limp hardly noticeable. The mad old git played up his limp! Cheeky bastard! James knew it lowered expectations of him, giving him the element of surprise, but it seemed so…underhand for the Auror.

"We heard you were arrested," said Derek, one of the Aurors, his lips hardly moving, but his head turning to face him.

"Shut up and face the front!" hissed James, his voice a growl. Obediently, their heads returned to the front, and their mouths began to move, as if singing with the rest of the room, but not making a sound. James glanced at his watch. He needed to hurry. "I was arrested," he continued. "But I'm free now. Now, answer my question: are you proud of career change?"

"Not especially," said Raul, "but it's better than being dead." True, thought James. Most of the Black Watch were only there out of fear. They would be cut down, unless they came back to the 'good' side. It was their choice to make. Would they stand beneath the badge of justice, or the Dark Mark?

"If there was a chance to go back to the old days, would you take it?" asked James, his hand on his wand, ready to petrify them should the answer be no.

"In a heartbeat," said Derek, much to James' relief. The other nodded in agreement.

"Good," said James. He parted his Black Watch robes enough for them to see the bright scarlet robes and the Auror badge - two crossed wands over a six-point star, topped with a pair of scales. It was the symbol of justice in the Wizarding World. It seemed to James' eyes that the sight of the badge relit the flame of hope inside them. For what seemed like the first time in ages, the men smiled. They would side with the Light. "Get ready," ordered James. "When it all kicks off, transfigure your robes to red and fight."

He hoped enough would join the fight to turn the tide. The plan was good, but risky, and it was all they had. He hoped to Merlin that Harry was all right. This plan hinged on him not being killed and killing a man some said could not be killed. Glancing around, James noticed the others slipping into the ranks of the Black Watch, whispering in ears. Sirius had already slipped amongst the Commandos and was whispering to one. They would be most likely to join the Aurors rather than the Black Watch.

James glanced at the clock; it was almost time. There were Muggle soldiers hidden on the balcony and in the wings, ready to come out. Everything was set; it was up to Harry now. Rachel was set at the front of the stage, ready to grab Dumbledore. There was nothing else they could do but wait. James spotted another group of familiar Aurors and made his way across, his mind straying to Lily at Hogwarts, whose time in captivity had taken its toll. She was pale, weak, tired and her mind had been shutting down with worry about her children. When Rose had arrived, she was more relieved to find her alive, than horrified that she had been kidnapped. Had her sanity finally broken?

He thrust the image out of his mind, forcing himself to concentrate. Like a conscience, James whispered into the ear of one of the Black Watch, telling him of the chance to return to the old days. The Auror agreed in seconds. The singing had reached the end and had stopped. The clock on the wall was about to strike midday and Crouch had entered and was about to take the stage. He walked proudly up to the altar, his head held high and his back straight. He reached the podium in ten seconds, taking a sip from the water left out and placing a sheet of parchment on top.

Silence had fallen in the room and an ominous atmosphere settled in. The Death Eater was about to address the nation and freedom and liberty were about to die.

BONG!

The first bell sounded as midday arrived. Crouch stood motionless at the podium, staring out over a sea of black. The bongs continued, as thought counting down to something…something terrible. James' heart sank as he listened. This was the end. His fingers gripped his wand tightly, and his body tensed. It was time. Harry needed to do something now, or forever hold his peace.

As the final bong reverberated around the room, there was a mass shuffling as the crowds took their seats. Crouch waited a moment for the noise to subside before beginning his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen," began Crouch as the sound of the twelfth bong faded.

Where the hell was Harry? wondered James. Why hadn't he done something? Where was Voldemort? Had Harry been killed? What now? Would they have to attack on their own and someone else take him down?

If they could free Dumbledore, he could do it instead of Harry. That made Rachel's job even more important. Merlin, he hoped nothing had happened to Harry.

Crouch continued, "It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to the inauguration of the country's first High Chancellor. Today we will usher in a new era of this country - one of prosperity, and most importantly, one of freedom. No longer will we have to hide who we are, no longer shall we be ashamed of ourselves. We will send a message to the Muggles, reminding them who we are, and retaining our rightful place. We will end the tyranny, and restore freedom to our community. A strong fight can only come from a strong leader, and that is what we are gathered here today to witness.

"And what better way to mark the occasion, than with a firm and absolute example of the justice he has brought us? Let this day stand as a symbol of a moment when the entire Wizarding population said with a single voice, "we will not let this go on, we will stand as one, and we will not tolerate tyranny!". We mark today with an execution, an example to any other rogue elements and to anyone who will stand in the way of our victory - ours, yours and mine.

"BRING OUT THE ACCUSED!"

At Crouch's words, the veil at the back of the stage slowly began to rise, exposing an area behind the stage. It reminded James of the garage at Lily's parents house. It was a small dark room with bare walls, nothing covering the bricks. As he watched, he saw something move in the shadows. Something was coming out. Slowly and in silence, a shape emerged from the shadow. James' jaw dropped and an audible gasp swept around the hall.

Hovering a foot above the grounds, and slowly moving into the light, was a large chair made of thick oak and reinforced with metal. The highly polished wood glistened in the light, the shiny metal strips that reinforced it gleamed. Sitting in the chair, held in by manacles over the wrists, forearms, upper arms, waist, chest, ribs, ankles, thighs, shins, neck and head, sat Albus Dumbledore. He seemed to have been mummified in strips of metal, holding him firmly in place. He had been dressed in black, beneath the strips of metal, and it seemed they had made an attempt to clean him up. He skin seemed clean and his beard combed and straight. He had a white patch over one eyebrow and on the left side of his jaw. He had been in a much worse situation the last time James had seen him, back on Lundy. They had kept Dumbledore chained to the wall, unable to move, and after a short time, unable to speak, meaning that conversations became a game of charades, as he could only nod, shake his head or blink. He had been beaten and cursed, leaving his face in a horrible state, but that had mostly been healed. He looked almost presentable, except for his confinement. Standing on either side of the chair was an Auror, his wand drawn and ready. They stepped forward, a pace at a time in perfect unison, never leaving the side of a chair as it floated forwards and came down to settle on the stage. It was almost like a funeral march, noted James, and in essence it was: the last ride of a condemned man.

James knew he could do nothing.

It was all up to Harry now.

XXXXX

Minerva's heart missed a beat as she saw Albus projected on the big screen. He had white bandages on his face and had clearly been mistreated. Merlin, what had he been through? She glanced over at Rookwood, who was smirking to himself, from his position by the fireplace to the side. As Potter had promised, his Aurors had all been sick, which had put him in a foul mood. However, Rookwood firmly believed that it had been a student who had done it in order to mar the day, rather than anyone else as part of a bigger plan. He had threatened the school with punishments, demanding to know who it had been, and where the missing eleven students were. Poppy had sent a House Elf down a moment ago to inform her that they had received several of the prisoners back and were receiving treatment. Professor Potter was back, along with Hermione Granger. Minerva had also been told about receiving the body of Anthony Goldstein. The poor boy had given his life for the cause. He had not been a particularly bright or powerful boy, but he had believed and in a time of darkness, he had done what's right. Outstanding moral fibre, as Albus used to call it.

Minerva watched helplessly as the chair Albus was sitting in on the big screen levitated and was brought forward slowly, hovering an inch off the ground. The two Aurors stood on either side, marching next to the chair. They came to a stop two metres to Crouch's right.

There was a second's pause before the chair descended lightly to the ground, its wooden legs making next to no sound as it landed. The eyes of those in the audience and those watching at Hogwarts and around the country were glued to the man they once called teacher. How could they not remember how good he was? thought Minerva desperately. How could they forsake him? There was a sharp metallic scraping sound and a click as the chair extended, forcing Albus into a standing position, still held firmly in place by over a dozen metal straps.

Despite all this, he seemed to keep his dignity about him. It was a feat so few could manage. Minerva watched the screen. The scope taking the image was presumably placed up on a balcony as it showed the image looking down on the stage, over the heads of a sea of Black Watch Aurors and a small section of men in green, which Minerva guess were the new Commandos.

"Albus Dumbledore," said Crouch, addressing not only him, but everyone watching. Where is Potter? wondered Minerva. She was waiting for a signal, but had no idea what it was. She just hoped the boy knew what he was doing. He seemed to have succeeded in rescuing some of the hostages, but why so few? Where were the others, were they dead?…surely he wouldn't march them into the Ministry in their state? Merlin, she wished she knew what was going on.

She had passed on her note to Nicolas and Severus, both of whom were standing by.

Crouch continued, "You stand here today, accused of the crime of high treason and murd…

It was all up to Harry now.

XXXXX

BOOM!

The whole building shook, and a deafening explosion rocked the room as the ceiling exploded into a cascade of dust, rocks and debris. James glanced up as a circle of the ceiling fell away and rained down upon them, the explosion shaking the very foundations of the room. Everyone inside screamed, looked up and dived for cover as the roof caved in around them. Through the cloud, James could see two figures falling with the rocks, encased in shields; one in black and one in white. Harry!

This was the signal; it had to be. Harry had said that all Hell would break loose and it soon would. The time had come; he hoped everything went well.

"Now!" he hissed into his frog-card, hidden up his sleeve. He threw off his Black Watch robes, exposing the bright scarlet and the badge of justice, and raised his wand to the podium.

"REDUCTO!" he shouted at Crouch. The curse missed the man, slamming into the wooden podium and blowing it apart, sending chunks in all directions, just as the rock and dust falling from above landed on the stage. Pandemonium erupted as other figures in red emerged from the black, sending bolts of light in all directions. The air was thick with curses and the ground with running bodies, as the Aurors emerged from the ranks of the Black Watch. The Black Watch didn't know what hit them. All of a sudden, the audience on the balcony and main floor made for the doors, screaming and running around like headless chickens, as a full scale battle erupted around them. The Black Watch had drawn their wands, but there were so many of them, it was hard for those on the outside to pick out a target when there were hordes of civilians running between them.

James shot an area effect spell at the ground, causing those near him to stick to the floor. He finished off the four caught in the web with a series of Stunners. They crashed to the floor in front of him. He could see the others duelling around the room, while the doors were clogged with civilians, as people pushed and shoved, desperate to get out. Flashes of light were going off all around as the Aurors and the Black Watch faced off. The air was thick with curses as the orderly ceremony exploded into chaos. Amidst the violence, flashes went off as the Press who had gathered took photographs of the action as it unfolded.

A Death Eater appeared in front of James, throwing a curse at him as he did. James ducked, flicking his wand up as he did so. A flash of blue left his wand and the man was sent hurtling through the air. The trouble was that there were so many. As soon as he had taken care of one, another took his place.

Levicorpus!

The Death Eater was hoisted into the air by his ankle and was suspended in mid-air, unable to escape. James didn't hesitate, sending the Death Eater hurtling into another pair running forward to face him.

"AVADA…" James had dived to the floor before the second word was even finished, his Quidditch-trained reflexes saving his life. He rolled onto his back, facing the Death Eater, his wand level. Stupefy! The silent curse caught the Death Eater in the neck and he fell forward, unconscious.

"Katie, Seamus," he shouted to the nearest students. He pointed toward the doors. "Help them clear the room. The Muggles can handle it from there!" Those pushing crowds would end up hurting someone and they stopped people getting out.

Suddenly a Black Watch Auror appeared in front of him. He was too tired to duel properly, but he had to survive. They were all knackered, but Aurors were trained to dig deep. James summoned his strength, and managed to get off a Stunner just as the man raised his wand. He collapsed in a shower of sparks, but there were too many. As the man fell, two more took his place, bearing down on James.

Suddenly out of nowhere, Derek and Raul appeared. Each clamped their hands over their victim's mouth, jabbed their wands into their backs and stunned them point blank. The Aurors, still wearing the garb of the enemy, released their victims, who fell to the floor with a crash.

"Thanks," hissed James, accepting the hand that Raul offered him. "Transfigure your robes to red and let's go!" As they changed their robes, James glanced over to the figure in white, lying on the stage, where the petrified Dumbledore was stuck.

"RACHEL!" shouted James over the crowd. "GET DUMBLEDORE!"

XXXXX

BOOM!

Minerva jumped as a tremendous explosion appeared on the screen. The force was so powerful that it cause the scope to shake, meaning the picture on the screen wobbled. On the screen, half of the ceiling of the auditorium shattered like a pane of glass, raining chunks of rock, stone and dust down onto the stage. There was a gasp as the explosion rang out, not only through the Ministry, but through Hogwarts as well.

"What the….?" began Rookwood, but he never finished. This was the signal; this was it! Minerva had her wand out in a flash and levelled at Rookwood.

Stupefy! The curse silently left her wand, hurtling toward the High Inquisitor. Rookwood turned to face her, just in time for the curse to hit him in the chest. His body folded inwards as he was struck down by the curse. Instantly the Inquisitorial Squad, as they had been named, jumped to their feet. Surely, not even Draco Malfoy would attack a teacher? Wrong.

A spell left the boy's wand, a vile shade of green. Whatever it was, it was dark; no doubt a lesson from his father. Minerva ducked behind her chair as Nicolas rose to his feet beside her, flicking his wand. Malfoy's own wand was plucked from his fingers. Malfoy yelped as he lost his grip, toppling over in the process. Already, Filius, a former duelling champion, and Severus, a former Death Eater, were on their way around the table and down amongst the school, most of whom were covering their heads in fear. It was not every day that the bullies attacked the teachers.

Malfoy had climbed under his table, taking cover as Filius Flitwick jumped up onto the Hufflepuff table, running along the top, his wand aimed sideways. It was like a shooting gallery for him, as Crabbe and Goyle rose from their seats like targets, just in time to receive a stunner to the face.

Pansy Parkinson was also on her feet, her wand aimed at the incoming Snape, who walked silently and relentlessly toward her, without his wand even drawn. Pansy looked unsure as she faced her Head of House, a man with a widely known dark past and a passion for the Dark Arts. She stepped forward, swinging her wand in a slashing motion, unleashing a ribbon of purple light. Severus flicked the curse aside with the back of his hand, and in one fluid motion, grabbed Pansy's wand arm, twisting it sharply behind her back, forcing her to drop the wand.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," said Snape icily, raising a hand to her face. As his hand touched her skin, Pansy screamed in pain, the cry reverberating around the hall. Minerva watched in horror as smoke began to rise from Severus' hand, and Parkinson thrashed in his grip. What in the name of Merlin was he doing? As Severus removed his hand, Pansy fell to the floor, a handprint burned into the side of her face.

"Anyone else wish to raise an objection?" he asked, his icy tone reaching all corners of the hall. Minerva hated the method, but she had to admit, he had the hall's attention. "Now, sit and wait," he hissed, picking up Pansy's fallen wand, ignoring the girl's sobs of pain, and throwing it into the fireplace. Minerva glanced one more time at Pansy's blistered face before addressing the school.

"Stay where you are," she ordered. "Madam Hooch, please take Miss Parkinson to the Hospital Wing. Everyone else is to stay still until this is over." With that she turned her attention back to the screen, upon which a woman with flowing brown hair, dressed in red Auror robes, had reached the stage. She dived into a roll, avoiding a green curse and firing a red one in return as she rose to her feet. The Auror guarding Albus dropped like a sack of spuds as the curse hit him. With that, the girl rose to her feet and began to work on the chair.

XXXXX

Lieutenant Hopkins of Blue Team checked his watch again. He had heard and felt an explosion just a few moments ago, and so his body was tense and his veins filled with adrenaline. There were fireplaces along two of the opposite walls, and a fountain in the middle. To his left was the security desk, past which were the passages that led into the Ministry of Magic.

Magic? Yesterday he had gotten up to a normal world he understood. One phone call from the CO's office and everything had changed. Not only did magic exist, but also half of the people who could do it were homicidal maniacs and now it was up to him to clear up the mess. Truth be told, he still didn't understand the true reason for being here, but he was under orders, and those were that no one was to leave the room until a man named Albus Dumbledore or a boy called Harry Potter gave the all-clear, and those orders would be followed to the letter. He knew that he was allowed to shoot anyone dressed in black if they were a threat, and that too seemed simple. There were twenty men from Blue team in the room, all of them with their MP5 aimed at the door from which the panicking wizards would have to come. It was only a matter of time now. That explosion must have been the start of the battle. Hopkins didn't understand why they, the true soldiers, were not in the battle when a group of school children were, but again, he would follow orders. God, this was confusing.

He was dressed all in black, with a gas mask on and a helmet. The other nineteen looked ominous in the gloom, as they stood before the fireplaces, their weapons ready. It wouldn't be long now.

Click!

What the…?

He didn't have time to react before something small, round, cold and hard pressed against the back of his skull. He knew that sound. It was the cocking of an automatic pistol, and unless he was very much mistaken. It was pressed against the back of his head.

Blue team seemed to realise something was wrong, and turned. Hopkins saw in dismay that each of them had a small glowing red dot on their chests. As they turned a series of clicks came from the shadows. Many weapons were being cocked and aimed at the SAS and they couldn't see a thing. God, how many men were hiding in the shadows.

"Drop the weapon," hissed a voice in his ear. "Tell your men to do the same."

"Who the hell are you?" snapped Hopkins. He received a vicious smack on the head with the butt of the pistol. He staggered forward two paces to regain his balance. He made it more dramatic than he felt, taking the opportunity to slide a hand towards his weapon.

"Don't even think about it, Lieutenant," said the voice icily. "Once again, order your men to safety their weapons and place them on the deck." Hopkins realised with surprise that this person knew who he was. Was it a wizard who could read minds? He slowly brought his hands up so they were visible and turned to face his attacker, unsure what to expect. He stared into the shadow and after a second, a figure stepped out, into the half light.

He was dressed all in black, very similar to how the SAS were dressed. He wore combat overalls, assault boots, Kevlar, and had a longer rifle over his back. He was aiming a silenced pistol at Hopkins' head, The kit was more or less standard issue for British Special Forces - this was no wizard. Had Evans sent another team? Why would he? How could he? He didn't know where they were, did he? As he glanced around, Hopkins saw more figures in black emerging from the darkness.

"Who are you?" demanded Hopkins. "How did you get in here?"

"Not by strength, by guile," said the man, and Hopkins understood.

"Special Boat Service," he breathed. The Royal Marines equivalent to the SAS was considered to be a bitter rival at Hereford. They referred to their sister service as 'Stupid Bent Sailors'. Hopkins managed to keep his tone neutral.

The figure inclined his head ever so slightly into the tiniest of nods.

"Now, do as you're told Lieutenant," said the Marine. "Tell your men to drop their weapons, and bear in mind my orders are to kill anyone who stands in our way."

"Ordered by whom?" asked Hopkins not moving.

"It doesn't matter," said the Marine. "We were told that you might be bewitched, not yourselves. I can't take the chance of letting you go, now surrender your weapons. We need to move in and take out Potter and Voldemort now!"

"Look, Marine," said Hopkins, his tone level and as calm as he could make it. "We are not bewitched, or under a spell or anything. God, I've seen some really weird things in the last twenty-four hours. This Potter, he's strange, powerful, and a trained killer, but no more a monster than you or I."

"That's not for us to decide," replied the Marine. "We follow Orders."

"So do we," replied Hopkins, "and ours are to protect Potter while he finishes off this Voldemort."

"And ours are to eliminate both Potter and Voldemort," said the Marine.

"Guess this means we are on opposite sides of the lines," said Hopkins. "How did we get to the point where British soldiers are fighting amongst themselves?" He took a step closer to the Marine, his voice almost pleading now. "Jesus, can't you see that something has gone wrong? It's not a sane order that sends British soliders to kill their brothers."

The Marine hesitated. He didn't reply, or lower the gun, but his shoulders moves slightly and his body sunk a little.

"Thank about what you're doing," said Hopkins. "We are both on the same side, trying to protect this country. We are both out of our depth, but trust me, Potter is not the enemy and neither are we."

"I am under orders," said the Marine at last.

"I can appreciate that...?" said Hopkins.

"Captain," replied the marine, filling in the blank.

"I can appreciate that, sir," said Hopkins. "But at least delay your orders. There is a battle raging a few floors beneath us. Any minute now, hundreds of civilians are about to flee up here. All we are here to do is keep them from escaping. No killing, no further interaction, just keep them here and keep them safe. All I am asking is that you wait. We only need to hold them, and then the other team will being up Potter and Voldemort, the latter hopefully dead, and the boy alive. You will see that neither are a threat any more. That way neither of us disobey orders, and no-one gets hurt."

"And if I refuse?" said the man, his tone hardening. He raised the pistol a little higher.

"You are Special Forces," said Hopkins. "So are we. If push comes to shove, we will both lose men. Non of our brothers have to die today, sir, I am only asking for time."

The young marine looked nervous for a moment. Hopkins was twenty-eight and on his second tour with the SAS. Officers only served a three-year slot, and usually only once. He was one of the few on a second, and the officer in front was on his first. He was very young and inexperienced and it showed. He shook slightly, and his gun arm was far from steady.

"It's your choice, sir," said Hopkins, taking another step. "We can all walk away heroes and we can all go home."

"I…." the man hesitated.

Suddenly he heard a terrifying sound. Screams were coming from down the hall, and the rumble of footsteps could be felt. He could feel the thunder of the stampede, and the sounds of screams were floating down the corridor. They were out of time.

"Captain," said Hopkins firmly. "You can either get on board or get out of the way, but decide quickly."

"Marines," said the young officer at last. "Spread out, no-one gets to the lift!" Hopkins breathed a sigh of relief, and turned back to the security desk, just as a wave of people in brightly coloured robes surged through it.

"FREEZE!" shouted thirty-two voices at once.

XXXXX

Harry's legs felt like they were made of lead - so heavy that he had trouble moving them. It took all his energy just to get to his feet. The sound of the explosion was still reverberating through his ears, and the fall had done him no good. Blood flowed from his ears and noses, which, in conjunction with the stone-dust and plaster that had turned his face white, made him look even more haunted than ever. His muffled hearing made him feel light-headed, like an out-of-body experience as he stared at the chaos around him. It seemed to be happening in slow motion. Flashes of light kept catching his eyes, bodies were moving, falling, writhing, faces full of pain, fury, hatred and fear all moved around him, like a swirling storm of violence.

He managed to get up onto two knees, and hold it long enough to shake the weariness form his mind. He looked around in detail this time. They had landed on the stage at the front of the auditorium, which was now littered with stones and debris. All around him there was light and movement. A sea of black robes, broken by the occasional man in red, were moving around like headless chickens, the air thick with curses and screams. At the back and on the balcony, hundreds of civilians only here to see the ceremony hurried for the door to escape the battle. In theory, Hopkins should be there to keep them from getting too far in case any Death Eaters tried to slip out.

Harry turned back to face Voldemort, whose black robes were now covered in white powder. He too was having trouble balancing. Harry slipped the backpack off his back and dropped it to the floor, along with his sword. He could see the DA all dressed in red. How very nostalgic, wearing traditional Auror robes to fight in. It made them easier to spot; the public could relate to them and they symbolised justice - just what was needed.

Rose! It was Rose-Marie!

Harry could see his sister, looking very thin, pale, bedraggled and tired, but still fighting. She was hiding behind an upturned pew, firing hexes into the sea of black robes. Harry could see some people turning their robes from black to red as they rejoined the Light. Ginny was there too, duelling with a Black Watch Auror, she dived behind a pile of chairs, and launched a curse at her attacker as he dived. Just as one man blocked the flying chair, another grabbed Ginny from behind. Ginny screamed as the Death Eater grabbed her by the hair and wrenched her to her feet, his free hand rising high above his head, ready to strike. Harry quickly summoned a knife from a fallen Death Eater and hurled it at the man holding Ginny. The Dark Knight's aim was true and the knife stuck into the Death Eater's thigh, causing the man to roar in pain. Ginny stamped hard on his toe and then turned and grabbed his private parts, squeezing hard. Harry cringed at the thought as the man's eyes bulged and he silently screamed, unable to get a sound out. In a flash of red light, Ginny sent the Auror crashing to the ground. Rose was out of her hiding place. Harry watched her take two steps, dive over a corpse into a forward roll, and fired a stunner at the man duelling with Ron as she rolled back up onto her feet.

A flash of movement caught Harry's eye, and he realised that Voldemort was back on his feet. Harry grabbed his wand and muttered a charm to release a cloud of fog. Running toward cover and followed by a strafe of curses from around the room, Harry fired a curse over his shoulder into the fog.

He took cover behind the remains of the alter to avoid a volley of curses from amidst the violence. He didn't know if they were loose curses or ones meant for him, but Voldemort made his point clear.

"LEAVE HIM" he shrieked. "HE'S MINE!"

Harry couldn't see Voldemort through the fog, but looked in the direction of his voice. He could see a figure moving through the fog, and seized his chance; he ran and dived towards the figure, ramming his shoulder into the man's stomach, knocking the air out of him, and slamming him to the ground in a vicious rugby tackle.

As Harry landed on top of the man, he realised his mistake. It was just a Black Watch Auror, not Voldemort! Suddenly two hands clamped around his shoulders, hoisting him to his feet and launching him across the room. He was vaguely aware of his lead-like feet leaving the ground before he slammed into the back wall, just below the magical flag of Great Britain which descended like a veil, covering him as he fell to the floor. Harry didn't stop to catch his breath. He had had the wind knocked out of him, but there was no time to wheeze. He wrenched himself free of the fallen flag and was back on his feet in seconds. Voldemort stood opposite him, his wand levelled at Harry.

This was it. There was no need to put on a show for the Muggles, no reason for Harry to remain alive. This was a duel in the true sense of the word: to the death. Red eyes met green. Black met white. Evil met good. This was it; one duel to decide the fate of a nation.

Harry's back bent slowly, his emerald eyes never leaving Voldemort's. The Dark Lord's back sank a minute way as well, as he bowed to Harry.

BOOM!

Something had happened at the back of the room and a giant ball of flame erupted from the wall, blowing several bodies dressed in black across the room. That distraction was all Voldemort needed. Harry blinked and a green jet of light was already coming toward him as he reopened his eyes. Harry surged forward, ducking the curse as he did.

"Crucio!" hissed Voldemort as Harry ran toward him, now ten feet away. Harry sidestepped the curse, coming into range of Voldemort. He lunged forward, Sectumsempra!

The curse glowed at the end of his wand as he lunged, as though he were fencing. Voldemort sidestepped as he passed, thrusting his wand toward Harry's ribs as he passed, a ball of black smoke at the tip of his wand. Sanctius! Harry jabbed his wand at the curse and the turquoise shield snapped into place at the end of his wand, literally parrying Voldemort's attack away from him. Harry and Voldemort turned in unison, coming about to face each other, a curse already on each of their lips. Harry raised a hand to block Voldemort's arm from coming close enough, parrying the arm with the wand, and jabbing his wand point blank into Voldemort's chest. Harry's arm blocked Voldemort's, forcing the wand away from his face, just as bony fingers closed around his own wand arm, forcing it up toward the ceiling. Two curses rocketed off in random directions, both missing their targets.

Voldemort still held Harry's arm and before he could react, he pulled Harry closer, slamming his arm into Harry's neck in a clothesline. Harry's momentum carried him through, his feet being forced from the ground. His back slammed hard into the wood of the stage. Coloured spots appeared over his vision. Harry had a quarter of a second to move, as Voldemort plunged his wand downward, the tip glowing green.

Harry rolled to the side as the Killing Curse slammed into wood, blowing it apart. Harry leapt to his feet with a little help from a hovering charm, and fired a curse at Voldemort, whose arm parried his already. Voldemort, it seemed, had mastered this style of close quarter duelling, wherein the combatants had to block the arms, not the wand, lest they be cursed.

Harry thrust his wand forward, but Voldemort grabbed his wrist, twisting it sharply outwards, exposing Harry's ribs. He tried to jab his wand at Harry, a purple curse already glowing on the tip of his wand. With a little help from a hovering charm, Harry jumped upwards as the curse rocketed away beneath him, narrowly missing his bum. As Voldemort still held his wrist, Harry performed a back-flip, reversing the twist on his wrist, and pulling Voldemort off balance. He lashed out with his foot as he was upside down, kicking Voldemort in the jaw on the way over. Voldemort released him and Harry landed on his feet, instantly unleashing another curse and sidestepping Voldemort's advancing wand.

It was like fencing, only faster and deadlier. Harry jabbed his wand at Voldemort, while at the same time physically blocking Voldemort's attacks. He wasn't using defensive spells, merely physically restraining Voldemort's arm so that no curse could hit him. In theory, not using magic for defence, left more time for magical offence, but the physical defence was more tiring. The trouble was that Voldemort was clearly no stranger to this type of combat and Harry was tiring quickly.

Harry jabbed at Voldemort, but an arm brushed his wand aside. Harry shifted his feet to maintain his balance, just as Voldemort's wand came up from below toward his head. Harry whipped his head back just in time as a curse shot by his chin. That was close! Taking the initiative and withdrawing, Harry stepped back, quickly switching his wand to his left hand, hoping Voldemort had not seen it. As Voldemort lunged again, Harry reached his blocking arm, now carrying the wand, around the outside of Voldemort's attack, clamping the arm between his elbow and his ribs. He lashed out with his right fist, punching Voldemort on the left cheekbone, sending the Dark Lord staggering backwards, just as Harry released a piercing curse with his wand. The curse narrowly missed Voldemort, more by the fact he was stumbling as he tried to regain balance than an intentional sidestep.

Harry swapped his wand back just as Voldemort shot a curse at him. Harry clicked his fingers on his right hand, muttering the other Harry's own spell. The pale blue ring of light formed in his hand. Spinning to his right, Harry scooped up the curse, and as he came full circle, threw the curse back at Voldemort. The curse hit the floor at his feet, exploding into a huge orange fireball, launching the Dark Lord off his feet. He wasn't getting away that easy.

Accio Voldemort!

The Dark Lord was tumbling through the air, then a second later was pulled back toward Harry, who jumped and thrust both feet at once into Voldemort's chest. Voldemort's body spun out of control and landed with a crash, while Harry flipped in the air and landed more or less gracefully on his feet, towering over Voldemort. Thrusting his wand downwards and slamming his knee down onto Voldemort's chest as well, Harry sank to the floor. The Dark Lord slid along the ground by magic, and Harry's knee and curse hit nothing but wood.

"ARGH!"

Harry knew that scream. He spun around to see Rose, lying on the floor, her thigh covered in blood along with her hand, which was trying to stem the bleeding. A Death Eater was towering over her, his wand aimed at her head. Harry didn't hesitate. He jumped off the stage, landing behind the Death Eater. Harry grasped the dagger attached to the man's thigh with his right hand while his left clamped over the man's mouth. The Death Eater didn't have time to react before Harry dragged the dagger over his throat, slicing cleanly into his windpipe and jugular. Harry felt no emotion, nor pity for his victim.

"Rose," said Harry quickly. "Use the Portkey. You've done your part, now go home!" Her face was paling quickly as a result of the blood loss. She nodded faintly, before reaching into the pocket of her Auror robes. A second later, she disappeared with a pop. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, just as something hit his back. He was thrust forwards and ended up flat on the floor, his face colliding with the ground, bursting his right eyebrow.

"Your compassion for others makes you weak, Potter!" sneered a voice in his ear as two hands clamped onto his shoulders and dragged him to his feet. He stood for a fraction of a second before another curse slammed into his stomach. Harry was propelled into the air and back up onto the stage. He landed hard, splintering the wood and sinking into the ground. Voldemort was over him in an instant. Harry lay there, consumed by pain. He could feel the warm sticky blood oozing into the fabric of his clothes. Whatever that last curse was, it had caught him and he was bleeding into the once white fabric. His ribs were in agony, his stomach felt sick and his limbs ached. He stared helplessly up at Voldemort, who towered above him.

"That's why my Harry, the true Harry, was the best, and you are the pretender," said Voldemort. "He saw the big picture. He took his life in his own hands, not putting it in the tired wrinkly hands of an old fool. CRUCIO!"

Pain seared through Harry's body, piercing every last cell, enflaming the nerves, boiling his blood. Lightning thundered through his mind, removing all thoughts but the pain that ripped through his body. Thrashing uncontrollably, his screams not even heard amidst the battle, Harry could do nothing as the curse tore into his body. After a few seconds it was gone.

"Why do you fight, Potter?" asked Voldemort as Harry tried to crawl away toward his wand, his mind too numb to summon it. "Why put yourself through this? It didn't have to be this way. You could have become my disciple, and I could have given you the world. Instead you succumbed to the ideals of an aging fool, embraced weakness as gospel. Do you even know what you are fighting for? Is it freedom, which is then given away to men like Crouch and Fudge? Is it love, well why not take your family and rule with them, on my behalf? Is it hope perhaps, surely you know hope is but a passage, with no destination. Face it Potter, you have no goals, none but your own survival. And this is how you come before me, with no hope, no goals, only your own survival and a delusion. You show your weakness as something to be proud of, but I will not let you drag the rest of the Wizarding World, the world that my ancestor Salazar Slytherin helped to shape, down with you. It's time to die, Potter."

Harry grabbed a handful of debris as Voldemort raised his wand above his head, ready to strike. He threw it with all his might, up into Voldemort's eyes. The Dark Lord screamed and recoiled as the dust and plaster flew into his eyes. Harry didn't even bother with a wand. He dived at Voldemort in a rugby tackle, landing hard on top of the Dark Lord, whose eyes were now redder than usual. Harry raised his fist and slammed it down into his face.

This bastard had nearly killed Rose!

Again, Harry pounded his fist into Voldemort's face.

He had kidnapped his mother, and locked her in a bunker!

Slam!

Sent Vampires into the School!

Slam!

Torn his family apart!

Slam!

The time had come. Voldemort lay bleeding beneath him. Harry knew this disorientation wouldn't last long. He had to move quickly, though his entire body ached. He glanced around. The civilians had now all left, leaving only those who were fighting. There were various fires around the room, from explosions, and the air was filled with the fumes of sweat and burnt flesh. The smell of battle was vile. Harry could see bodies littered everywhere and the very walls of the building were in ruins, having absorbed hundreds of mis-aimed curses. All furniture was gone, destroyed, and piles of debris from the ceiling and the walls littered the floor. The once blue carpet was now black, from all the blood that was seeping into it from the hundreds of bodies now lining the floor.

Harry had to end it! He summoned his wand, aiming it down at Voldemort, who lay beneath him, groaning in pain. The time had come for him to die. One death so that hundreds may live, and it was Harry's job to kill him. He was born to carry this burden, this sin. He was a natural born killer, and this was his destiny. He would take Voldemort's life.

Harry levelled his wand at Voldemort's chest.

Come on, Harry, two words will end it. They are so simple. Summon your anger; take his life. He would do it to you. It's the right thing to do, so get on with it. Do it, Harry, now!

He stared down at Voldemort, who was gasping for air. Harry took a deep breath. Flamel had doubted he could do the curse; they were about to find out. He would have to sink to Voldemort's level, but it was unavoidable.

As Harry raised his wand, there was a flash of movement to his left and a piercing shriek filled the air. Harry stepped backwards in surprise as a flaming figure appeared, hovering in the air above him. A Heliopath had returned. The fire demon's eyes burned red, and its muscular limbs danced with flames. Harry hesitated a second too long.

"KILL HIM!" shouted Voldemort from the floor.

So much for no one touch it – it almost sounded like 'help me'!

Harry turned and ran, just as the stage where he had been standing a second ago erupted into flame, sending splinters in all directions. Harry felt the heat on his back as the Heliopath glided over him. Harry reached the edge of the stage and jumped, just as the jet of fire swept over the stage like a flame-thrower, narrowly missing Harry. He was sweating in the heat as the Heliopath turned in mid-air, preparing for another pass.

Harry had no idea what to do, as the monster glided closer.

Suddenly a ball of blue light shot over Harry's head, striking the demon on the shoulder. The creature roared and rolled in mid-air, passing to Harry's right. Harry turned to look behind him. Dressed all in black, looking weak and off-balance but very much alive, stood Albus Dumbledore. He was free and alive! Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed to get of a curse that actually affected Heliopath.

The monster was hovering near the ceiling. It roared in anger, summoning two balls of fire, holding one in each hand. Harry struggled to stand as two plumes of flame shot down toward him and Dumbledore. He needn't have worried, for as the flame approached, a blue bubble formed around them. The flames encased them but had no effect. Thank God Dumbledore was here. Harry turned to face his Headmaster, who stood behind him looking old, weary, but at the same time, determined.

He raised his wand and a jet of blue light soared into the air, colliding with the incoming Heliopath. With a scream, the monster disintegrated, raining a cloud of ash down on the Aurors fighting for their lives.

"Finish it, my boy," said Dumbledore simply, wobbling as he stood.

Harry nodded, summoning all his strength and all his courage. He glanced around at the battle. The room was littered with bodies, both red and black. The walls and pews were in ruins and the carpet was red with blood. The smell of flames, death and burned flesh stung his nostrils. It was the most horrid smell and sight he had ever beheld. Harry knew he had to stop this, and now. He glanced over to where he had dropped his backpack and sword.

It was time.

God, he hoped Spears was in position and ready, and more to the point, he hoped this device worked. He grabbed the satchel and tore it open, revealing the chrome finish of the device that was the last hope of the country. One glance around told him that the sea of black was getting the upper hand against those precious few in scarlet.

Harry took a deep breath; he pulled up the cover, exposing the button. He closed his eyes, bracing himself to have his magic stripped. It was now or never. Please God, let this work. He pressed the button.

The effect was instant - a tingling feeling, much like an electric shock, surged through his body, every limb buzzing with the power. A wave of blue flashed across his eyes like a camera flash, and his muscles involuntarily tensed. It was as if pins and needles had spread to every corner of his body. He could feel the power draining from the room around him. Harry dropped the device as his entire body tingled. The effect lasted no more than two seconds.

All around him, the shouts died as no one's wand seemed to work. Screams of curses died as the light never followed. The air that had a second ago been thick with curses, screams, shouts and movement, was now silent and still. Duels that had been raging halted as the magic was sucked out of them. People froze, staring at their wands and at their enemies, no one knowing what had happened.

The room was still as Harry climbed back to his feet, carrying the sword in his right hand. Every step was painful, his bleeding ribs stung, he was weak with blood loss and his limbs ached from exertion. He felt like he couldn't make it, but he had to and he refused to let his pain show.

"What did you do?" shrieked Voldemort, slashing at Harry with his wand from the stage, now no more deadly than the twig from which it had been made. Again, he tried as Harry stepped up onto the first step of the stairs leading up to the stage. "What have you done to me?" Harry was vaguely aware of all eyes being honed on him and Voldemort as he ascended another step. All duels had stopped, for Voldemort was not the only one who wanted to know the answer. His voice rang out over the hall, the fear in it clear for all to hear. Right now, not only in the Ministry, but in Hogwarts and numerous other locations, thousands of people would hear the fear in the Dark Lord's voice, and they would witness the end. Harry secretly hoped that the Captain was on time, or this could all go pear-shaped; he certainly wouldn't let his fear show. After seeing Harry with a sword, it wouldn't take long for the Death Eaters to resort to physical violence and knives, and the students were no match for that.

Harry stepped up onto the stage, sliding the sword free from the scabbard. The Katana glimmered in the dim light, as Harry twirled it menacingly about his wrist. A glimmer of fear crossed Voldemort's face, and after a second, he took one step backward. The effect was instant. A gasp rung out from the Death Eaters; never before had they seen their master recoil in fear.

"Are you afraid?" said Harry softly, his voice carrying to all corners of the room in the stillness. "Muggle," he added icily. Voldemort's eyes flared under the insult, the veins in his neck and temple throbbing, as Harry took another step forward. "How does it feel, to be completely incapable of magic?" He took another step toward Voldemort, who had halted.

"I destroyed your magic, Tom," said Harry. "You're no more powerful than the merest Squib. Without your magic, you are nothing."

"DIE!" screamed Voldemort, suddenly. He leapt at Harry with tremendous speed. A flash of light caught Harry's eye as a polished knife came out of the folds of his robes, wrapped in Voldemort's spider-like fingers. The gleaming blade, no doubt tipped in poison, came crashing down toward Harry in a last-ditch attempt to retain dignity. But this was Harry's turf; while magically, Voldemort far outmatched him, hand to hand, the Dark Knight reigned supreme.

Harry spun to left, just out of reach of the dagger, bringing the sword up in the same movement. In one fluid movement, he spun one hundred and eighty degrees and as Voldemort dived past him, Harry slashed in one fluid motion at the backs of Voldemort's ankles as he passed. There was a scream of agony and a gasp from around the room. Harry's blade had severed Voldemort's Achilles tendon, making standing impossible. Everyone in the room gasped in awe as the Dark Lord lost his grip on the dagger and fell to his knees, unable to stand and utterly powerless. Harry stood facing him from behind. Forcing all emotion, all traces of pity, justice and remorse from his mind, Harry stepped up to Voldemort and around his left side, making sure that everyone in the room could see exactly what was happening.

Voldemort's mouth was full of blood as Harry came around to his front. He was on his knees, unable to move and trying to conserve any form of dignity. His eyes flashed with malice, even though Harry was sure he knew that his time had come. Harry fought to block compassion and mercy from his mind. He was too dangerous to be left alive. He had to die, it was the only way; this was the right thing to do. On the odd occasion, he knew that pursuing the right path demands an act of evil. Evil itself can be the right path. Harry hated killing an unarmed and defenceless man, but it had to be done. It was his job, he could not burden anyone else with it. His soul was the one that had to suffer for this.

"It doesn't end here, Potter," spat Voldemort, his voice lined with anger, his eyes full of loathing. "I will return. You have only bought them time."

"It's over," said Harry, shaking his head.

"No," hissed Voldemort in Parseltongue. "Only when you join me in death, shall I truly be gone."

"Then I'll see you in Hell," hissed Harry. Before he could think anymore, Harry raised the blade high over his right shoulder. There was a gasp from the crowd.

A guttural scream of anguish, not anger, escaped Harry as he swung the blade with all his strength. Avoiding Voldemort's eyes, Harry sliced the blade clean through the Dark Lord's neck, severing his head completely. His momentum continued his spin. Harry turned the blood-soaked blade back under his arm so that it pointed out the back, so that as he spun, as he faced away from Voldemort's body, he plunged the blade into Voldemort's heart.

There was utter silence in the room as Voldemort's head sailed through the air. All eyes watched the severed head as it plummeted from the stage and landed with a sickening crunch on the floor.

Suddenly Harry felt heat on the back of his neck. He turned to see Voldemort' headless body still kneeling where he had been before. A strange green light was pulsing near his heart, a ball of energy over his chest, slowly becoming brighter and brighter. It was magical for sure, and so powerful that it heated the air around it; not even Arctic Thunder was powerful enough to contain it. Harry suddenly remembered that when the Voldemort in his world had been ripped from his body, it had destroyed the entire house.

BOLLOCKS!

"RUN!" he shouted, turning to move. He had gone two steps, just enough to reach the edge of the stage, when a surge of energy erupted from Voldemort's fallen body. The green light blasted into Harry's back, launching him off his feet and into the air. He felt his feet leave the floor, and then nothing but pain as he landed twenty feet from the stage.

Every muscle ached, his head was throbbing, and his vision was blurred. He had hit his head as he landed, his head was spinning, and his balance was off. He realised that he had landed on a corpse, dressed in black, but couldn't move. His eyes seemed to be the only things moving.

He could see the blackened and shattered front wall, over the wreckage of the stage. It had worked, and it was over; Voldemort was dead. Harry's whole body was numb; he couldn't move and he was cold, oh so cold. This must be it. His time had come. At least he had done some good with his life. It was over now, and he had earned the rest. He might not have been able to save his own world, but he had defeated Voldemort and he had met his family. His two targets in life were done, and it was time to die. Harry felt a warm glow of relief. No more pain, it was over, time to rest. He felt his eyelids growing heavy.

Suddenly he was aware of a figure standing over him. It was Macnair, Commander of the Black Watch. "Die, Potter!" he screamed, diving toward him, a dagger of his own in his hand. Harry could see the silver descending when suddenly a loud crack rang out, thundering in his ears.

Macnair's chest exploded with red, and his body was forced backwards, off his feet, crashing to the ground as the bullets impacted his chest. Bursts of gunfire surrounded Harry. Screams filled his ears and a flurry of movement blocked his vision. As the coloured shapes of people moved past his vacant eyes, Harry was vaguely aware of shouts of "Freeze!", "Don't move!" and bursts of gunfire as the SAS descended on ropes from the ceiling and burst through the doors.

Captain Spears had come through for him in the end. Just in time, thought Harry; it was over. Content, Harry's eyelids closed and he resigned himself for the long trip down to Hell.

---

Auror's Notes:

This was the final chapter of a Stranger in an Unholy Land. There is an epilogue that will be posted soon, before i go onto pt2. Part two of the Stranger Trilogy has already begun on my Yahoo!Group of the same name. You can find it with a yahoo search for 'a stranger in an unholy land' or 'stranger trilogy'.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I have recently received several reviews saying that this fic was too violent, explicit and adult for its rating. Since M is the highest rating there is, there is nothing I can do about this. More violent/adult chapters (including this one) carry an additional warning. Please take note of these.