A/N: I combined parts seven and eight into one chapter, because they're short. Enjoy :)
Voldemort's high, cold voice had penetrated the hearts of the student body; Michael had seen it on each face. The members of Dumbledore's army were ready though, and Parkinson's panicked assertion that Potter should be handed over had set determination over the room once more as they'd risen and banded together. Because they were certain, they were sure, they were confident in their cause and in themselves, and together nothing could break that, though it might break their bodies. In their conviction lay their strength.
He watched as students were evacuated and wondered briefly whether any of those still in the hall, whether any of those that had stood in Harry's defence, were on the other side. He carefully swept the thought away. It was time for faith and for trust in those with whom he was allied; mistrust led to hesitation, and hesitation to error, and error to death; a thought which sent a chill down his spine.
Time soon blurred, rushing past as though in the lull of a single heartbeat, and suddenly he was marching out into the grounds—the battle field—Professor Lupin as his commander. Terry was with him and they moved as one, drawing strength from one another's presence, but not Cho—she was relegated to the twins' team, defending the passageways into the school. But the two strode through the doors and immediately into the fight, and there was no time for worrying.
Michael didn't know the names of the Death Eaters, the names of those he fought. He didn't know the name of the man that sent Terry tumbling, lifeless, into the cool grass. He didn't know the name of the curse he deflected from the pink-haired Auror who dashed into Professor Lupin's trembling arms. He watched men and women and students fall around him as he dodged and cast and shielded and ran mechanically. Dementors glided across the field and he reflexively sent his shimmering wolfhound out to defend them. Giants and Acromantula swarmed towards the castle, and he forced himself to obey Lupin's order to leave them to the defences.
He watched as his commander fell, never to rise again; as the man's wife leaped furiously into his place, tears streaming over her cheeks; as her blurred vision caused her to miss the curse flying from her peripheral; as she lay, a grief-stricken tragedy, beside the man she'd clearly loved.
xXx
His team fell apart without Lupin, and Michael found himself taking charge of the group. Time passed in a swirl of victories and defeats, of blood and sweat, that seemed both endless and fleeting. Then Voldemort called a ceasefire. A heavy hush fell over the living, blanketing the fallen in a perverse mockery of peace, and shivering unease through Michael's veins. No one yet cried for the dead. No one yet dropped their guard in foolish hope. Some ventured forth to comfort the injured and to heal them or get them to safety. Others began, silently, to gather the dead.
Michael moved to help this second group when a twig broke behind him. He spun, reflexively drawing his wand and silently casting a disarming spell. Cho's wand flew easily into his outstretched hand and he breathed his relief even as she dashed into his arms. Thoughts of Polyjuice flitted through his mind momentarily, and he once more reminded himself that this was a time for faith, as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.
She didn't cry, not even a single silent tear, and he found himself proud of his peers' strength. Proud of his own. The gathered dead now counted eighteen and continued to grow, but there was something he had to do before he helped. He slipped his hand into Cho's, and led her towards the body of Remus Lupin.
"Michael?" she inquired softly. He just shook his head, squeezing her hand softly before dropping it.
His professor was lighter than he had expected, and Michael lifted him and then returned him gently to the grass with shameful ease. Michael didn't bother to imagine them sleeping as he looked upon them, now side-by-side as they'd been in life, but he smiled solemnly and returned his hand to Cho's.