Harry, stood in the ruins, staring down upon the utter destruction that had been caused. He felt tears run down his cheeks, but hardly noticed.

How had this happened?

12 hours earlier:

"Ginny! Ginny, we gotta go, GINNY!"

She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, pulled along pathways, up stairs, past windows, rushing blood, red hands, did they forget the keys down there? Faster, keep moving... what was happening?

"Wait," she panted, finding her voice hoarse, her throat dry.

"No time," Harry panted, as he and Parvarti continued to drag the stunned girl through the corridors. "He can't be far behind."

So they did forget the keys down there. Parvarti had tears streaming down her face. It's not like they could have taken the body with them anyway...

"Oh god," Ginny felt herself breathe, and felt her eyes burn, her body shudder. The body.

"Ginny," Harry said, whirling around abruptly and grabbing her shoulders. He too had tears in his eyes. "We HAVE to keep moving. Ginny, I'm so sorry." He wrapped his arms around her as she continued to shake.

"She sacrificed herself for us," Parvarti's voice sounded behind Harry, shaky but firm. "We can't let that go to waste."

The way she said it was enough to break both Ginny and Harry out of their shock and despair. They separated, and Ginny took a deep breath, calming herself.

"Right," she said, and put her hand on Harry's arm. The one still tightly grasping the sword of Godric Gryffindor. "What is the plan?"

"Uh," Harry said, his eyes flickering between the two young women. "Plan?"

Ginny felt herself fill with despair again. Of course Harry didn't have much of a plan, did he, considering it was the girls who had rescued him. And here they were, a servant and two prisoners, in a castle full of guards and with an extremely angry dark lord hot on their heels...

"We have to fight," Ginny said, glaring at both as if they were going to object. "Riddle knows where we are, he knows what we've done, and it is a matter of mere minutes before he escapes, considering we left the keys behind." At Parvarti's shameful look she added, "Which was no one's fault, it just happened. It would not have given us much more time, and it is not like there is a back door - we have no choice but to fight our way out."

She looked at them both in turn, waiting for them to chime in with ideas, but was only met with silence. She took a deep breath. "Look... it is a ridiculous plan, the three of us taking on Riddle's army," she started. "But if I am going out, it will not be cowering in a corner, begging for mercy. It will be like Lavender - fighting. Doing my part to save the ones I care about, to restore some sense of peace and justice to this forsaken kingdom. And if I have to do it alone then-"

"No one is going alone," a voice spoke, and Ginny, Harry and Parvarti whirled around in shock. From around the corridor, out strode two identical red-headed boys, older than Ginny, followed by an older red-haired man, a young woman, a handful of servants, and the little cook Flitwick.

"What-" Parvarti began.

"Good thing we found you in time," the tiny cook squeaked from the back of the group. "We dispatched a group to your chambers, too, Lady Ginevra, and the kitchen guards are all taken care of. The rebels are here." His eyes met Harry's, who gasped.

"The rebels, they have come?" he asked. "So it is truly time?"

"Indeed," Flitwick continued, "And several of the villagers have joined them. As soon as I heard the commotion, I of course sent word to your family," he continued, again directing his words at Ginny. "I promised your father that if anything like this ever happened..." he trailed off, smiling.

"My...?" Ginny looked up, at the older red-haired man, who was smiling at her, his eyes brimming with tears. "Father," she whimpered, and before she knew it, his arms were wrapped around her for the first time she could remember.

"Hey!" it sounded from somewhere behind Arthur, and Ginny felt more arms wrap around her. Confused, she lifted her head to find the redheaded twins grinning down at her brightly. "So quick to forget us in the family reuinion! Don't worry, we are not offended," one of them said.

"Yeah," the other continued, "After all, you hardly know us. We will be your favourites soon enough."

Ginny laughed through her tears, embracing her brothers happily.

"Not to break this up," the young woman said with a small smile, "But I believe you said something about a certain dark lord knowing where we are... so I suggest we move along to somewhere less open, and regroup. Let's move."

"The rebels have set base in the kitchens," Arthur added, as the group hurried along. "Where did you last see Lord Riddle?"

It was Harry who answered. "The dungeons. We managed to lock him in a cell but he cannot be far behind. You got here just in time."

One of the twins whistled. "That's our sister!" Ginny couldn't hide her grin as they continued down a flight of stairs, down to the kitchens where more rebels waited.

Harry gasped as he entered the kitchen, finding it full of rebels from the forest, as well as about a dozen people he did not know. How had they all gotten in there? Must have overpowered the guards - but surely it was only a matter of time before reinforcements came. Looking around, Harry saw perhaps a hundred souls, and knowing more were shattered about the castle, maybe they had a total of 150. Against Riddle's army of thousands. Still, they had the surprise advantage, for however long, and they were already in the castle. So they stood a fighting chance, right?

He tried not to let his uncertainty show, because most eyes were on the newly arrived. Harry, however, scanned the crowd looking for two people in particular: Ron and Hermione. But where were they? He began moving into the mass, desperately hoping that they were there. What had happened to them, after he had been captured...?

"Harry - Harry!" A mass of bushy brown hair was struggling through the crowd, and finally Hermione managed to get to him.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, relieved. And sure enough, right behind her: "Ron! Thank goodness you are both alright."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed and threw her arms around him Spluttering through an unexpected mouthful of hair, Harry attempted to give Ron a 'women!' sort of look, but Ron only broke into a wide grin and threw his arms across both of them, hugging them tight.

"Okay..." Harry said after a moment, trying not to sound too pleased, "I missed you guys too... but there is a war to fight."

"Right, right," Ron and Hermione muttered sheepishly, pulling away. Ron cleared his throat and awkwardly patted Harry on the back.

"Oh, mate," Ron said suddenly, "Hagrid is here!"

"What?" Harry couldn't believe it. "Where?" he asked, craning his neck and looking around the room.

"Not in here," Ron said apologetically. "He is waiting in the cluster of trees just off the eastern wall, for the signal. There was no way to bring him into the castle without arousing too much suspicion."

"Speaking of," Hermione said, "we haven't much time as it is. We took out a number of guards on our way in here, and the others will surely notice that they are missing soon."

"Not to mention," Harry grinned slightly despite himself, "Me and Lady Ginevra might have kind of locked Lord Riddle in my cell in the dungeon."

"WHAT?" Ron and Hermione said together, with a mixture of shock and awe.

"Should have seen the look on his face," came Ginny's voice from behind Harry, where she appeared with a shy smile.

"Ah," said Harry. "Allow me to introduce the fair Lady Ginevra, Ginny, these are my friends-"

BOOOOM!

A giant crash drowned out anything else Harry was about to say, and the rebels scattered, confused and alarmed. Harry felt blindly for his friends and grabbed a hold of Hermione's arm.

"Ron!" Harry heard Hermione call desperately, "Ron!"

"Come on Hermione," Harry hissed, tugging on her arm, "It has begun. We've got to MOVE!"

Just then, castle guards broke through the kitchen door, and those rebels nearest to them immediately took up the fight. 'Buying the rest of us time to escape,' Harry thought with a pang of horror, but there was nothing they could do right now, except move and regroup. And where was Lupin?

Harry and Hermione found themselves swept up in the crowd of rebels, most of them streaming through the adjacent kitchen door leading to the lower east corridor, others turning to face the opposition, swords drawn and eyes hard. This was not just Harry's fight, he realised, this was everyone's fight. But it was too soon...

"Harry! Harry!" Harry spun around, to find Neville had caught up with him. "Harry, it's me, Neville Longbottom, we met-"

"At the competition, I remember," Harry said quickly. "Listen Neville, have you seen Ron...?"

"Ron?" Someone pushed Neville from behind, sending him stumbling forward, but Hermione and Harry managed to catch his arms and steady him as they moved down the corridor. Hermione was trying to run on her tip-toes, craning her head to see over the many heads around them. "Um, not since just before, when you were talking... Harry, where are we going?"

It was a good question. Without Ginny and Parvarti to guide him, Harry was as lost in this maze of stone as anyone else. Just when he was about to tell this to Neville, Hermione dropped down on her feet again.

"To the courtyard," she said shortly. Off their looks, she rolled her eyes. "You don't think we would barge in here without a plan, did you Harry? Lupin and I have been planning this attack for as long as I can remember! Of course, we expected to be a bit better prepared... but we are here now, and it is time to show Lord Riddle what we are made of."

Despite Hermione's fierce expression and tone, Harry still had his doubts. He wanted, so badly, to see Lord Riddle brought to justice, and it wasn't as though he had never entertained the idea that he himself might be the one to do it, take on Lord Riddle single-handedly (with Ron's help, of course)... but seeing the rebels here now, hearing the battle cries behind him, watching people die? And these people were all here now, today, because of Harry, because he had been foolish and big headed and got caught. And if they failed...

"Harry." Hermione's tone was softer, but stern. "I know what you are thinking, and don't. This is not happening because of you - yes, your heritage and fighting skills make you an important asset to us in the battle, but whether or not the battle happens now or in a year's time, it will not make a difference. Whatever the outcome, know that we are all here for the same purpose, and no one blames you, Harry."

As they turned a corner, they found the hallway ending to an opening and expanding of the walls, forming a large circle of open space with vines growing up the walls, and a circle of columns in the middle with a platform on the top, which extended over the courtyard's walls. Beyond the walls, they would find the castle moat on one side protecting Hogswarth from attackers, and a tower on the other, effectively blocking them from surprise attacks from above - but also hindering an easy escape.

Harry looked at Hermione, worried, but saw only reassurance in her eyes. He sighed. He knew she was right, it was just hard to shake the image of a dying Lavender, who had taken the point of Riddle's sword to allow them a few moments... wait.

"Hermione," Harry said, stopping so suddenly that several rebels bumped into him. Hermione, who had been pulling him forward, lurched to a stop beside him. "Something is wrong."

"What do you-"

"It must have been at least half an hour since we trapped Riddle in the dungeons. We left the keys there with him, well within range of his sword... and it is too quiet. Where are the guards? Aside from the ones in the kitchen..."

Hermione's eyes had gone wide and fearful. "You're right," she breathed. "It's almost like they want us to reach our destination... STOP!" she screamed, and everyone around them halted, looking around confusedly. "Everyone," she shouted, "Everyone GET OUT of the courtyard, it's a-"

"Trap?" a cold voice spoke, softly, yet everyone heard it perfectly. "Indeed it is." The voice was coming from nowhere, and everywhere. Around Harry and Hermione, people looked anxious, fearful. Where was Riddle speaking from?

Harry whirled round to look for him, and instead saw something which chilled him to the very bone: what seemed like hundreds of Riddle's knights were streaming into the courtyard through every door, and some of the ones in the front carried... were those... heads?

"Oh god," Hermione breathed, and backed away from the knights and the heads of their friends, instinctively, closer to the courtyard. "Oh god, oh god..."

Harry tried very hard not to look directly at any of the heads - and he tried very, very hard not to notice if any of them had bright red hair.

People were all backing up, their weapons raised, but there was no bravery in anyone's eyes. "Hermione," Harry whispered, "Tell them... tell them to stand their ground, to fight..." But Hermione only shook her head, wide eyes panicked and full of furious, unshed tears. People continued to back up all around them, and they were once again forced into the movement, being pushed towards the centre of the courtyard like sheep for slaughter.

"That's right," the cold voice said again, sending a rush of hatred and panic through Harry. "You did not really think your foolish little plan could best me, in my own castle, did you?" Riddle teased.

"This will never be your castle!" Harry shouted, furious rage replacing his panic. The other rebels looked at him fearfully; Hermione seized his arm and tugged, but he refused to budge. His parents had died fighting, and if he was going out now, that was how he would go, too. "This is the castle of King Albus, and you are nothing but a mere leech, a rodent, feeding on stolen scraps in his absence!"

"How dare you!" The cold voice shrieked - and somehow, Riddle losing control made him a little bit less intimidating. "King Albus... King Albus left you to the wolves! And you dare declare him rightful King, in my castle? I am the rightful King of Hog!"

"He did not leave them," Harry said, calmly. "He entrusted my father to care for the kingdom in his absence. But you killed him!" And with a furious cry, Harry threw himself forward, sword raised, towards the nearest enemy. 'It is Riddle,' he told himself, as blade met blade and he felt his muscles flex, 'it is Riddle, and you are going to show him exactly how much you hate him.'

Harry hardly registered that around him, people had gathered courage from his speech. They were raising their weapons, ready to fight, and when Harry heard another battle cry to his right and found Neville Longbottom slashing at another of Riddle's men, who was so surprised by this unexpected onslaught that he dropped the severed head he had been holding and then proceeded to slip on the blood, the other rebels too joined Neville and Harry, and all around them there was vicious fighting.

The rebels were able to hold their own; a group of archers led by Hermione had drawn back to the centre of the courtyard, shielded from battle by the columns holding up the platform and the surrounding rebel fighters, and able to aim their bows towards the back of the enemy lines, close to the doors leading into the courtyard. But as fierce as the rebels were, it did not seem to matter: the knights of Lord Riddle just kept streaming in, and it seemed that every time she shot one down, five would burst through the opening in his place.

"Neville, hold the flank!" Hermione heard Harry call from somewhere to her right, and she turned to see that he had moved back slightly after taking down a big knight. His sword was gleaming with blood, which eerily matched the rubies on the hilt. "Hermione," he called hoarsely, moving towards her, "This is no good. We can't keep this up!" He moved closer to her still, and the rebels allowed him through. When he was very close to her, he lowered his voice. "I need to get to Riddle," he said quietly, so that the archers around them couldn't hear.

Hermione sighed. "And how exactly do you plan to get out of here, Harry?" she gestured around; they were not short of pathways, but all twelve entrances were crawling with enemies. "Even if you could somehow carve your way through - which, as much as I trust in your abilities, you could hardly hope to accomplish - how would you even know where to find Riddle? I got completely turned around when we were ambushed, I wouldn't know the way to the throne room unless I was able to tell which way I was facing... and these doors all look the same. The courtyard is a perfect circle."

Harry's jaw was set, and his expression was determined. Blood - his or someone else's, Hermione couldn't tell - was smeared across his cheek, and he had a gash on one arm. All in all he had got off easy... they had lost a lot of good men and women already. "Harry..." she started, but his look silenced her.

"I need to get to him," he said through clenched teeth. "I could stay here and die, yes, but I could also get out there and attempt to do what we came for, what everyone is sacrificing their lives for. Look around, Hermione, we are nothing more than a dent. We have killed, what, maybe a hundred of their men, but they just keep coming, and eventually we will get tired, and make a mistake, and it will be so easy for them to kill us all. Hermione, we have nothing left to lose."

She took a deep breath, and looked around. She wished Ron were here - where was he? The rebels were fighting so bravely... surely they must know, like she did, that Harry was right. That they would never win this way. But Riddle... where was he? There must be some way to know the direction...

"Oh!" she said suddenly, and looked up. "The platform!"

Harry followed her gaze, and frowned. "What do you..."

"The platform," she repeated, "If I can get up there, I'll be able to see over the battlements and I can see which direction I am facing! Help me up there," she moved out of the centre, out towards a pillar. The platform was about 10 feet up and change, which meant she could probably reach it if someone hoisted her up...

"Right," Harry said, determined. The two youths pushed their way towards a pillar, and Harry bent down to allow Hermione to climb onto his shoulders. It was funny, how finding out where Riddle's chambers were would somehow set everything right, but although it was barely a plan at all, it was all they had to hold onto, all they had left to hope for.

Hermione carefully stepped onto Harry's shoulders, and they were able to use the pillar for support to avoid losing their balance, and when they both stood up all the way, Hermione was able to grab onto the platform - and, using all the strength she had gained from practicing with her bow all those years, she managed to pull herself up and swing her leg up and around the slab of rock. Straining, she hauled herself the last bit up and lay on her back, catching her breath.

"Anything?" Harry called from down below, and she remembered herself - for but a split second she had felt so removed from the fighting and dying below, it had felt like an escape.

"Let me look," she called back, and raised herself up. She was facing the tower - the Western tower, she knew, remembering the maps she had studied. Which meant that if she turned around, she would be facing East, and the... forest.

She gasped. Looking out over the battlements, past the moat, she saw no forest. What she did see was an army, an army of red, riding and marching forward carrying big red banners.

"Oh my god," she breathed, "Oh my god, oh my..."

"What is it?" Harry called down from below, "What do you see?"

She was breathless, speechless. How could this be? "I see..." she began, but her voice broke, she couldn't believe it.

"What?" Harry called anxiously.

Hermione found her voice. She did not know how Riddle had made his voice sound clearly to them all from out of nowhere, but she did know how to make herself heard in a crowd. "Rebels!" she called, and while the fighting and yelling did not stop, she hoped they could hear her. "Take hope! The... the King had returned! He brought his army! King Albus has returned!"

They must have heard her, because it was an entirely different sort of commotion which filled the air. Screams of joy were heard around the courtyard, and the rebels picked up their weapons with a new vigour, a new determination - there was hope!

Other people wanted to get onto the platform to look, and Hermione found herself pulling people up, and watching the hope fill their eyes as they beheld the vast army of red and gold which progressed towards the castle. Finally she found herself pulling up Harry, and his eyes filled with tears as he watched. "King Albus," he breathed. "He has returned. But why now?"

Hermione did not get a chance to answer, because at that moment, the sinister, cold voice of Lord Riddle reverberated around the courtyard - counteracting the hope which had filled the rebels so soon before.

"My, how the tides have turned," the voice said softly, and Hermione could not make out his tone. "Of course, King Albus may find that he has returned too little too late... to find all his most valued supporters beyond his help."

"Rebels, keep fighting!" Hermione shouted, "King Albus has come!"

"Yes, indeed," the voice said, as softly as before, but somehow all the rebels felt it chilling their bones, "King Albus, our saviour. But when he comes, alas, it will be to find our young Harry here... dead."

Hermione felt a chill run through her, much deeper than before. Instinctively, she grabbed Harry and shielded him with her body, but of course they were only all too exposed on their little platform.

"Oh yeah?" Harry pushed Hermione away, calling up to the voice defiantly. "Unless you have gained the power to strike a man dead with lightning, I don't see how-"

He was cut off as an arrow whizzed past his ear, missing him by inches. Harry and Hermione spun around to see where the arrow had come from, and found Lord Riddle on the northern wall, where a similar platform had been raised to the one on which they stood.

"Do not think you are the only good shot in Hog, boy," Riddle sneered. "But no, that would be no fun. You will come to me yourself, of course."

"And why would I do that?" Harry called back.

"Because I have something you want," Riddle replied simply, and held up something in his hand. It caught the fading sunlight, and glinted fiery red.

"Ginny," Harry breathed, at the same time as Hermione breathed, "Ron."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then back at Riddle.

"You're bluffing!" Hermione called back, though she could not stop her voice from shaking.

"Am I?" Riddle smiled. A cruel, twisted smile, which sent shivers up her spine. "Come and find out."

And he turned and descended, disappearing from sight, leaving Harry and Hermione standing alone on the platform, shaken and breathless. Hope, so close, visible out of the corner of Hermione's eye to the right. But in front of them... death, and darkness.