*walks in for the official chapter-before-last* It appears there will be 22 chapters of this story after all, people. If I get the time to write everything I want in this chapter. Or unless you want an epilogue or something (though I suck at epilogues). *Snape gets some red wine this time, thinking red is appropriate for the occasion*

Before I start, I feel I should thank JaimynsFire. I owe every single Sirius Black idea to her! *glare from Snape, I assume Sirius blows a kiss at the lovely lady* As well as the quote of Sirius about not being able to speak about what he does. Thank you for inspiring this version of the lovely mongrel, JaimynsFire!

Alright. With that out of the way, let us proceed. *Snape leans back with the glass*

Chapter 21 *hits play*

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Snape looked upon the castle he was supposed to be approaching as an enemy-- Hogwarts, his home. The only place he could call that, containing the only people he actually cared enough to breathe for. It felt a bit like being a cancerous cell about to attack the body that was sustaining him. It did not help his psychological state much, but it did steel his resolution to go through with the plan that he had silently, slowly hatched without either Voldemort or Dumbledore knowing. Snape loved surprises, when it was he that was giving them and they were extremely unpleasant.

He was after all, the Marauders' greatest opponent.

Voldemort pointed with his skeletal, abnormally white fingers towards the castle and the Dementors wafted towards there. As the dark Azkaban guards seemed to permeate the perimeter of the castle, and onto the inner grounds. It had began.

"My Lord, the castle is brightly lit." a Death Eater pointed out. Snape rushed to patch things up before Voldemort got any funny suspicions.

"It must be that Wormtail that bangled up his mission. Let us retreat, my Lord, Dumbledore is forewarned."

"I shall not escape like a weak fool! Sanguiflus!" Voldemort hissed and pointed his wand, cursing swiftly, venting all his frustration on the potions master. The curse hit full blast and blood started flowing from Snape's eyes, nose and mouth. Snape felt the world go bright and spin for a while before he could think and speak again. He gingerly touched the wetness on his face and then meekly wiped the excess blood on the sleeve of his robe, muttering his apologies. Voldemort ignored him more than the dust on his boots as he turned to the rest of the Death Eaters:

"Does anyone elsse feel the need to object to thiss missssion?" he asked venomously.

None felt the need to reply. Voldemort nodded to nobody in particular, his crimson eyes slightly luminescent in the darkness.

At that moment, the Dark Mark rose high in the air, casting a dull green glow over the castle walls. Snape felt the slight tremble in the air as the wards of Hogwarts were weakened from inside enough to be breachable by someone knowledgeable enough. Voldemort immediately muttered, waving his wand in the air, and there was a slight moan in atmosphere as the wards were completely pulled down. The Dementors entered the castle.

Voldemort smiled like a cobra as he turned to Lucius.

"Young Draco did well. Bring him to me to mark when I call you next," he said and the eldest Malfoy grinned in triumph for his only son. Voldemort raised his wand.

"My brothers, my sisters! This is the time we get what is rightfully ours! Spare nothing and nobody!" he said and the Death Eaters rushed, wands out.

As Snape ran with the rest, one thought troubled him:

Why the hell hasn't he ordered the golems to mobilize yet?

***

The greenish fumes from the grotesque Mark now hovering high in the enchanted dome had not really dispersed from Draco's wand when Harry hissed, Dumbledore barked orders to the Aurors, Sirius yelled for Remus to watch out and countless Dementors entered the room, instantly chilling it, grabbing blindly, greedily at anyone they could get. Most had walked in with their hoods off already.

Countless Patronus forms erupted, directed at every single area. Draco watched as Harry gripped his wand like a club now, and wacked ahead of him. He sent an Auror tumbling to the ground, and the silvery stag from his wand - the very same that had bowled him over not too long ago during a quidditch match - galloped fast at the Dementor that was making everyone kneel shuddering at a meter radius.

The Dementors were losing the battle, that could be easily fathomed. Draco was glad as he shivered momentarily. He was not surprised. When it came to actual battle, Dementors were not the snappiest or deadliest thing in the block.

The morale had started going up with the temperature, as less and less Dementors remained in the room when Sirius' voice was heard above the hubbub:

"Dementors were a decoy!"

The first real wave of attack hit full blast, as most of the aurors were occupied in evading or fighting Dementors that most Death Eaters had entered without even being noticed-- after all, you could see black robes everywhere. Only it seemed as if magically after Sirius Black's alerted yell, all the black robes and cloaks were also featuring a faceless, relentless white mask.

This time, curses, hexes and numerous other attacks started actually taking a toll. Bodies upon bodies they fell, aurors and Deatheaters, some dead, some dying, others praying not to. Avada Kedavra was what they used the most, from the Dark Lord's side, and various stunning and impeding curses were hurled from the Aurors.

Harry started having to pay attention to his foothold, as the floor started to become slippery and way too littered with bodies. Sasha had slithered up his arm and around his neck like a necklace, and she kept her eyes out for whatever Harry hissed at her-- which wasn't much, as Harry was following Snape's advice and was relying on his hearing rather than any other sense. As a result, he was moving far too fast to be offering any real aim, and he was pointing his wand far too rapidly for his curses to be avoided. Added to the fact that there were more than 200 people in the room, Harry's curse always found its mark. But the young Gryffindor was not interested in body count. He was looking for two people.

Severus Snape, and Tom Riddle.

***

"Ron, we really shouldn't--"

"Stop arguing, Hermione! If you didn't want to help Harry, you wouldn't be running along with me!" Ron snorted as he and Hermione rushed to enter the fray. For a moment, they stopped at the pure horror their eyes met:

Bodies were sprawled all across the floor, Death Eater and Auror alike. People were trampling on them, trying to get away or towards their target. Hideous curses killed in graphic ways, or in the terrible finality of Avada Kedavra. For one dizzying moment, the two Gryffindor 5th years had trouble knowing the friend from the enemy.

But then Ron saw his father, and the curse he was being put under, and he yelled, wand out, as he ran over there, hurling at the Death Eater whatever he could think of worse. Hermione rushed with him, flicking her wand this way and that, moving bodies and fighting men out of her friend's way, until they got to Arthus Weasley.

"Father?" Ron said, cradling the waxy form. Arthur opened his eyes softly, and fear seized them.

"You... should not... be here!" he managed to gasp.

"Ron, we have to get somewhere better! I can't keep deflecting more and more of them!" Hermione cried, and Ron looked up, blinking away the blurriness, and saw that Hermione had them in a Bubble Shield. He nodded and got up, supporting most of his father's weight.

"I'll take him somewhere safe, and I will be back. Look for Harry!" he yelled as he ran off, the bubble popping as soon as he was out of range.

Hermione had no choice but to throw herself into battle, in an effort to fight her blind friend. She had never seen him fight, as Harry never had agreed to take her along for his clandestine dueling sessions, and so she had no way of knowing if he was capable of handling this in the first place.

But it was impossible to get a view or look for anyone when you were busy protecting yourself and others. She wanted to shout for him-- she was pretty confident that he would manage to hear her over the battle hullaballoo. Harry had learned to distinguish sounds from noise a long time ago. But she did not. If he was fighting, he did not need to worry about her, or Ron.

She only hoped she could catch a glimpse of him at some point.

***

Snape tried not to take too much part in the battle. If his plan was to work, he had to stay somewhat intact and sentient until at least the Golems were called by Voldemort. So he managed to stay in the fringes of the whole pulsing mass of fighting people, deflecting curses and not really attacking anyone, protecting himself so that he would be able to protect others in a while. He knew that this could not possibly be the bulk of the battle.

He saw Harry weaving in and around Death Eaters, hurling curses all around him, and all of them hitting be sheer proximity-- some even at point blank.

He allowed himself a brief fraction of a moment to admire the teen whose fighting value was equal to two sighted aurors. I did this. No matter how unworthy I am, this is mainly my doing. He looked around, trying to catch sight of Voldemort. Where had the Mudblood gone to this time?

***

Harry felt a shearing pain come from his scar and he knew. Sasha hissed in fear. Harry swallowed, controlling his, and hissed softly to his familiar:

"Sasha, get off me. Make sure you don't get trampled on."

"I do not abandon those I am bonded to."

"Sasha I do not have time to argue."

"Then don't!" the snake hissed bossily, and furrowed deeper under Harry's clothes. Harry felt the cool band slither down his wand arm and snugly stay coiled around his forearm, over the tawn glove. Harry had no more time trying to argue with the coral snake that this was Voldemort, not your occasional Malfoy he was about to face.

He was hit with the cruciatus. For the second time this night. The pain erupted in his mind hot and rough and aggravating. He knew he had fallen on the ground, just as he knew he would not let his wand drop, just as he knew that everyone was now staring more than fighting. It was yet again, Harry Potter against Tom Riddle, Voldemort. And Harry was at the moment struggling like a fish out of water trying to get back inside.

The curse was let up abruptly. It was as painful as being hit with it.

"Ssso... thisss iss the blind boy that issss sssso hard to find... and kill?" he smiled, his crimson eyes enjoying the sight of the quivering boy struggling to his feet.

"I... am not afraid to fight you. I've done it before." Harry said, unsure of why he was talking in the first place. His voice sounded frazzled and rather like a yapping dog's. Of course his throat did hurt, as did the rest of his body.

Voldemort did not like Harry's allusion to their past skirmishes. It was never a good topic to bring up in his presence, and actually no living creature ever had-- not even Nagini. And this wiry, flailing boy was not going to be any different. Voldemort raised his wand swiftly to attack--

-- and found himself shielding from a well-delivered Lepidae curse. The brat was fast. Much faster than any dueller he had faced-- and Voldemort had faced (and killed) quite a few. He frowned. Harry had apparently found a way to make his curses home in-- although it was obvious this was tiring the boy and was not used superfluously. He had underestimated the boy yet again, this time because of Snape's reassurances that the boy was meek and incompetent because of his blindness. He would deal with the filthy greaseball when the time came.

"Very good, Harry Potter. Much more interesting than the lassst time we... duelled. Let me cater to our friends before I... devote to you my fullest attention." he said lazily as he flicked his wand, muttering softly, and Harry dodged a body bind. However, this gave Voldemort the time to say in a loud, slurry voice:

"Ameth Fortuna Tuera Molta!"

Immediately the ground shook at the rhythym of lumbering, heavy footsteps, and great noise of rock protesting against hits and yielding covered even the yells of fear. The golems tore down part of the wall in the main hall, trampling and burying under them the unlucky bystanders. Immediately, aurors started moving to get a good aim to erase the A from the word AMETH on the faceless brow.

The golems lumbered around, trampling on aurors, and did not discriminate too much around Death Eaters either. Draco stopped running only when he nearly tripped over Weasley's half buried body trying desperately not to escape, but to reach further into the debris. Draco felt like moving on, but stared. In Ron's voice the same primal fear that was in his heart reigned.

Without thinking, Draco flicked his wand, moving stones away, helping Ron reveal his father's body. Ron blinked in awe. Draco sneered.

"I won't be here everytime you need to unbury your father, Weasel." he said and moved on.

Only to be hit with a curse from his own father.

"Treacherous, stupid boy! Helping muggle lovers on our Lord's highest mom--" Lucius found himself stunned. Draco looked up to see Ron frozen in the same position as before, still watching him gaping, but with his wand arm extended appropriately for a good stun hex to the head of the Malfoy family.

"Mental!" Ron whispered to himself, eyes as round as the gray ones he was gazing into, the surprise for the unexpected help they gave to each other tangible.

***

Only one golem was lying lifeless. The rest were still lumbering around, trying to kill and destroy. Dumbledore ordered the aurors to keep away, to avoid rather than attack, as every piece breaking off seemed to get a life of its own and kept trying to cause damage and harm in every possible way.

He aimed carefully at the second golem about to squash Remus and Hermione, and breathed an order, jabbing his wand. It froze forever in that position, the word METH now on its brow. But Dumbledore had concentrated greately, so that his countercharm would not fail, so that it would breach Voldemort's ward of blood on the creature. It was a feat of utmost skill and power, and it demanded a lot of energy and concentration.

Which was why he was the one that had stopped both the now-inanimate golems.

But he sacrificed duelling readiness-- and Avery's curse hit the Headmaster before Remus could do anything about it but shout.

Voldemort was engaged in battle with Harry-- and he was finding it much more challenging than usual, which was making him madder and madder. Whatever curse he threw at the boy, Harry had already a shield up was was dodging it. He was reluctant to use the Avada Kedavra, for fear of last year's events repeating themselves. Voldemort had no intention of seeing the Potters again-- it was the main reason he had gone personally to execute them that oh-so-important night.

And he could not afford to let his hold on the blood connection with the golems flicker, because the counfounded old coot Dumbledore was already breaching it steadily.

He needed to win this, tonight. And he was winning, yet. He was in Hogwarts, there were more aurors than Death Eaters on the floor, and he was about to kill Harry Potter.

If only the bloody brat would keep still like a proper victim. Voldemort was unfortunately hit with Harry's Ento- Impedimenta curse while ruminating all this. He was for a few moments under the curse's influence...

... and Harry realised as he stumbled, that he had used Ento about 8 times more than he should have... and he was feeling like he had no blood nor life left.

Voldemort would surely get him now.

***

Dumbledore is down! you -idiot!-

Snape threw away his mask, and cursed everyone that came his way, now not keeping back. He had lingered, and the man he considered his real father was perhaps even dead-- who knows what curse it was he got hit with. He was aware of Potter going down as well after dealing Tom Riddle a good one. Of all the incompetent--

Whatever the hell was he waiting for? This? A dramatic entrance or a royal invitation to do what he had planned? Fear was not a good excuse, nor was apprehension good enough either. He had decided to protect, and he was making a mess of it, just like he always made a mess of everything that was important to him.

Severus could not take it anymore. He stood a bit sideways to the golems and shouted at the top of his lungs, jabbing his wand in command at them:

"Sanguis Obeir Ameth!"

The golems stopped, and seemed ambivalent. The active blood bond was fighting the inactive one that was now struggling for supremacy: For Snape had not only included Voldemort's blood in the clay-- he had also mixed his own.

The Dark Lord's willpower was not easy to overpower, and Snape almost shut his eyes in his frenzied effort to control all of the remaining golems. For a while, nothing happened. But a shaky mutter drew the Dark Lord's attention. Voldemort had to dodge Harry's combination hex, as the boy was holding his wand shakily from the ground, and the struggle for dominion was over fast-- and Snape was the winner. I did it.

***

For one more time the whole room stood still, few realising why the golems had stopped wreaking havoc and even fewer understanding how and who did it. Even Harry stopped, the eerie stillness and quiet making him pause, and Voldemort's terrible crimson eyes focused on the rival he did not expect-- but should have, perhaps.

"Ssssseverus!"

Snape's eyes glistened triumphantly as he spat at the Dark mudblood Lord:

"Sanguis Obeir Meth!"

The bloody looking A was magically erased, the golems starting to slowly dissolve into their raw materials, becoming shapeless masses of dirt and clay. Voldemort's leverage in the battle was suddenly turned to useless dust.

Dumbledore opened his eyes weakly, and stared into those of Hermione and Remus. Remus grinned through his anxiety.

"It's done, Headmaster, the Golems are gone!"

Dumbledore smiled and flicked his wand, summoning an old friend. It was time an end was put, and the aurors and professors remaining standing knew it just as well.

Voldemort seethed in pure anger at the traitor that had twice fooled him, at the child that was a formidable opponent even when impaired. He was beaten, and again he was in the loser's position because he had not had the omnipotence that he boasted to possess. He had to go, to keep his present state of being, and return again later.

But at least he had time for quick retributions. He growled at Snape as he was pointing his wand for further action. A blue lightning engulfed Snape before anything could happen. Then Voldemort disapparated. Any Death Eaters that were capable, also did the same.

They left behind them a mess of dirt, clay, debris, bodies, blood. The Headmaster was injured. Harry Potter was in dangerous exhaustion.

And Severus Snape was dying.

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and that is all for now. *s* I have no time to answer reviews at the moment, but I will tomorrow, or the day after, promise. Along with any more you might want to send me. Just for the record:

Dumbledore does not work out-- he only is stronger than one would expect. Remus was jesting.