Author's Note: It says in my profile that I'd like to finish this story before the New Year, and I still stick by that goal. So here's my idea: if all you lovely people who are reading keep reviewing at (or above -- a girl can dream!) the level that you've been doing, I'll make sure the story is all finished by the last day of this year. (For those of you who've been reading along but not reviewing, here's your chance to help yourself out! And I've enabled anoymous reviews; I hadn't realized they were disabled, and I apologize to those of you I've unwittingly discriminated against.)

This is the seventh-to-last chapter (not counting the epilogue), so at a rate of about one chapter a day, we should get through it! Since a lot of people are on break from school and work around this time of year, I think it's a perfect time to have a lot to read. Or consider it my massive holiday gift to you all. Or maybe I'm just in a good mood from the announcement of Book Seven's title. Now, for your consideration, here is one of my personal favorite chapters.

Hermione's voice rang out over the dark plain. "We need to get in position," she called out anxiously. "We need to make a square. Point Me." She peered down at the wand in her palm and called, "Susan, over here!" I ran over to where she stood within the circle of stones. "You're North. You stand here, and face this way," she ordered, and I did.

Then she called for Ron, who jogged up and took his place across from me as the South point. We stood facing each other while Hermione arranged the others: she had Neville stand on my right for West, and Ginny on my left for East, both equidistant from me and Ron. Together, we formed a perfect square.

"Harry, stand in the center," Hermione called as she walked quickly over to the perimeter of the site. He did as he was told, and stood straight and tall facing the space between Ginny and Ron. Meanwhile, I watched as Hermione slowly, awkwardly climbed one of the smaller stones. At the top, she stood, her fear of falling visible to all of us.

I saw her tap her wand to her throat and mouth, "Sonorus," and then I could hear her again. "Everyone ready?" her voice boomed. "Use Sonorus on yourselves."

We did, and all of a sudden I could hear five other people clearing their throats and coughing.

"Stones of Avebury," Hermione began, "during this time in the calendar when day and night are equal, we call on you to relinquish your hidden treasure. We are assembled here in the name of Godric Gryffindor and wizards and witches everywhere. We beseech you to end your protection of that which you are hiding. We offer this man, Harry Potter, as a fitting guardian to succeed you."

The sky began to grow lighter, and the buzz I'd felt while touching one of the stones started tickling my feet. The stones were listening, there was no doubt about that.

"Elements!" Hermione cried, and now there was no fear or hesitation in her voice. "What say you?"

Ginny went first. "In fire was this object forged. The sun's fire has dawned thousands of times upon you, stones, waking you and giving you purpose. The sigils of Gryffindor, the lion and the phoenix, were both born into fire. In the name of fire, I ask you to end your protection of this object."

As she spoke, her hair grew brighter and brighter, which I first attributed to the growing light, but the brightness of her hair soon outstripped any of her surroundings. With the last word, Ginny's hair changed: it became a cascade of flame that writhed and danced around her face and shoulders. There was a collective gasp from everyone watching, but Ginny looked delighted; she tilted her face up towards the rising sun and closed her eyes, letting the fire around her head fall down her back. She was, somehow, completely unharmed.

I knew I had to speak next, but intimidation kept me silent for a moment. Then I gathered my courage and spoke: "In air was this object shaped. In air have you kept vigil, stones. The children of Gryffindor spoke words of magic into the air, and you listened. In the name of air, I ask you to end your protection of this object."

A breeze that I'd thought was just passing through turned into a wind as I spoke, and my last words turned that wind into a whirlwind that began at the ground and climbed up to my waist. My legs were engulfed in a miniature twister that didn't disturb a hair on my head, though it furiously kicked up the leaves that were all over the ground.

Neville lifted his voice, and I drank it in. "In water was this object hardened. Water made you what you are, stones, through millennia of the shaping hands of rain. The body of Godric Gryffindor was made of water. In the name of water, I ask you to end your protection of this object."

I barely even felt surprised when water began to swell at Neville's feet. What began as a puddle soon swelled to a pool, and soon Neville was standing in a circular pond about two feet in diameter. His legs were immersed halfway up his calves, but he didn't appear to be the least bit wet.

Ron was last, and I noted his voice was deeper than usual. "In earth did this object gestate, before it was brought out to be forged and shaped and hardened." The ground began to shake, and the dirt near Ron's feet began rising up in waves. "Stones, you were born of earth, and to earth you will return. We are one and the same." The earth surged up at this; though Ron didn't move an inch, the ground around him broke and heaved. "In the name of earth, I ask you to end your protection of this object."

"The elements have spoken," said Hermione, and when I looked up at her I saw that she was glowing with an eldritch light. "On this morning of the vernal equinox, relinquish this object to our recipient, Harry Potter." At that, Harry took his cue and raised his right arm high in the air. Hermione continued, "He is worthy of this responsibility. We have great need of your assistance. Answer us now."

I held my breath. The wind around my legs was warm and reassuring, and I held out my hands to graze the top of the whirlwind. At this point, it felt like the wind was the only thing keeping me from falling over.

Without warning, the wind whipped away from me, towards Harry, at the same moment that Ginny's fire lanced like a lightning bolt towards the center, Neville's water rushed across the ground into the center, and the groundswell at Ron's feet heaved in Harry's direction. For one brief moment, Harry was crowned in fire, with wind rushing around him, standing atop a mountain of earth, surrounded by a moat of water.

Then it all vanished, leaving Harry lying prone in the center of our square, apparently unconscious. Ginny shrieked, but Hermione called out, "Don't move!"

Slowly, slowly, Harry picked himself off the ground and dusted himself off. I couldn't see the armband anywhere, and I felt a surge of disappointment: it hadn't worked.

The sun was almost completely over the horizon now, and I glanced over at its orange brightness, squinting until tears came. What had we done wrong?

Then Harry spoke: "Children. I wasn't expecting children."

I turned my head again to stare at Harry. His voice was . . . different.

"A thousand years of sleep, only to be disturbed by children. I must say, I am surprised," said Harry-who-was-not-Harry.

"Sir?" Hermione piped up tentatively. "Thank you for answering."

Harry looked up at Hermione, perched up high atop a stone. He shielded his eyes to get a better look. "Hello, little High Sorceress. Are you quite aware of what you've done?"

"Yes, sir. Very aware, sir. We're all in your House at Hogwarts, you know."

"Is that so?" asked not-Harry, astonished. "Well, I suppose you would have to be very brave to attempt something this powerful."

I put a hand over my mouth. It was Godric Gryffindor, speaking through Harry. I saw Neville, Ginny, and Ron all coming to the same conclusion on their own, and they looked as shocked as I felt.

"And yet you're all still in school. What need would six teenagers have for my mark of power?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but nothing came out. I seized my chance. "We need to destroy it."

Not-Harry swiveled to look at me. I noticed that his eyes were glowing like green fire, and that his shadow did not match Harry's form: it was much bigger and bulkier, and the shadow seemed to have long hair. "Destroy it, little witchling?"

I swallowed convulsively. "Yes, sir."

"And why would you do such a thing to the most important artifact of your House's founder?"

"Sir, the most evil wizard of our time has -- has transformed it."

Not-Harry frowned. "How has he managed such a thing?"

"He's very powerful," I said softly. "We six are sworn to fight him and those he calls allies."

"What does this one call himself?" not-Harry asked, sounding weary.

"Voldemort," I said. "He's Salazar Slytherin's scion. He is trying to rid Britain of Muggleborns."

"It's the blood purity argument all over again," he sighed. "It's been occurring in some form or another since the beginning of magic, though Merlin alone knows how long that's been. I often think we'll never rid ourselves of this conflict."

"But we must try," Neville said, surprising me. "'All that is required for evil to triumph is that good men do nothing.' Besides, if nothing else, we have to carry the torch for those who've given their lives to the struggle."

Not-Harry smiled at him ruefully. "Spoken like someone who knows the cost of war. I must admit, however, that I am puzzled as to why this Voldemort character would be interested in my armband."

"He wants immortality," I said. "So he transformed it into a Horcrux. He knew it would be next to impossible to retrieve."

Not-Harry shuddered. "Fiend. Evil knows no limits. And yet it contains the seeds of its own destruction, for that which is most well-protected is protected by the forces of good. Had you come here professing your devotion to this Voldemort, I would have slain you all where you stood. But as you walk my path, I will relinquish my source of power to you."

"Sir?" It was Hermione again, full of questions as always. "Are you a ghost?"

He chuckled. "No. Not as you understand ghosts. I was the last of my line to wear the armband, so a piece of me has remained with it all these years. Not unlike a Horcrux, actually, but my soul as it inhabited my body while I lived has journeyed, whole and unblemished, to the lands beyond this earth. I am not much more than a memory, but I was a powerful enough wizard to exercise a good deal of autonomy even in this form."

"Will Harry be all right?" Ginny asked anxiously.

Another chuckle. "He'll be fine, little witchling. He can hear everything we're saying. I'll leave him soon, and he'll be just fine."

"But -- but if we destroy your artifact, what will happen to you?" asked Hermione.

He smiled. "I don't know. Maybe the stones will take me in; maybe I'll dissolve into the air; maybe I'll join my soul somewhere past human reckoning. Fear not, and worry not, children. The armband is a symbol of a long-ago time. We built Hogwarts to uplift the ideals of equality, knowledge, and cooperation. The old hierarchy of chiefs is dead, and good riddance. Many who were born into leadership had no business being leaders, and many more who were born into the mud should have been living amongst the stars. I do not mourn the loss of this artifact, and neither should you."

"I hope the stones take you, sir," said Ron, and his voice was strange.

"Ahh, wizardling of the earth, perchance they will. I thank you for your wellwishes. High Sorceress?"

"Yes?" Hermione said nervously.

"Please ask me for what I have."

"Godric Gryffindor," she said, her voice shaking, "please give us your armband."

Not-Harry paused, then nodded once. He reached into a pocket of a cape that wasn't there, and drew out something invisible. I looked at his shadow and saw a small circlet in his left hand. Then he mimed placing the armband on his right arm, and as his left hand rested on his right bicep, the armband appeared.

I only saw it for an instant: it was bronze torc, worked in an elaborate, twisting pattern. It shone for a moment with the light of the now fully risen sun. Then, in an explosion of golden light, it shattered, and the pieces scattered everywhere. A moment later, Harry slumped to the ground as before, and he was still.

Hermione's jumping down from the rock was what clued me into the fact that the ritual was over, and that we could move again. We all converged on Harry's unmoving form, and Ginny and Hermione knelt down to attend to him.

"He's fine," Hermione said after a moment. "Just knocked out."

"We can get the Knight Bus back to Hogsmeade," I said. "No one should be Apparating now anyway."

"Righto," said Ron, and picked Harry up off the ground. Neville scrambled to help, and between the two of them, they managed to get Harry into a standing position.

We walked from the field, and as we passed through the outermost ring of stones, I felt them call to me in a language I hadn't known I knew. I put a hand on the nearest one and felt it acknowledge me as a force for good, much as the unicorn had all those months ago.

Ron had stopped without passing through the ring, and Neville (whose face was already sweaty from exertion) said, "What's the matter?"

Ron was still holding Harry up with one arm, but with the other he'd reached out to the nearest stone to him and was touching it with a queer look on his face.

"RON," Ginny said sharply.

He came back to himself, and frowned with something like regret. Without a word, he began to walk again, and together Neville and Ron carried Harry beyond the field to the nearest road, where Hermione hailed the Knight Bus, and we began the bumpy ride home.