A/N: One more to go, kiddy-winks. I really sort of love this chapter (mainly because I've been planning the end scene in my head for about as long as I've been writing this story), so I really hope you like it :D

TWELVE

"These reports make no sense," Remus said, drawing nods from everybody sat around the table. "If even half of these were true, there's no way that Voldemort could be everywhere at once."

"Perhaps a time turner?" Tonks asked, but Kingsley shook his head.

"I've already had inquiries made at the Department of Mysteries- all of their time turners were destroyed when Mr Potter and his friends visited last summer, and all of the shards have been accounted for. Unless he has managed to make one himself, which is unlikely, however powerful he is, then he does not have one."

"Polyjuice?" Moody suggested, "He wouldn't have any trouble making it, now that Snape's joined him."

"We do not know that, Alastor," Remus reminded everyone. It was a battle he had been fighting since the meeting began. He seemed to be the only one, besides perhaps Kingsley, who was willing to give their spy the benefit of the doubt. Everybody else was all too willing to assume that he had decided, after Albus's Death, to publicly declare his true allegiance.

"Like hell we do," Moody snorted, his magic eye constantly rolling. "Where else do you reckon he's buggered off to? Popped out to do a spot of shopping and got waylaid choosing which shoes he liked more? For two weeks?"

"I'll admit that it's possible that he has decided to join Voldemort, but it is equally possible that he is with the children, or even that he has been struck down trying to rescue Harry and Ginny."

Moody just grunted, disbelief clearly written over his face. Luckily, Molly saved remus from having to answer.

"Talking of rescuing Ginny and Harry, when exactly is it that we're going to try to do just that?"

"What? Did I… Did I forget to tell ya?" Mundungus Fletcher spoke up for the first time. Usually, he liked to sit in the corner and pretend he wasn't there; ever since he stole a good deal of Sirius's things, he hadn't exactly felt welcome in the Order.

"Tell us what?" Molly asked, venom dripping from her voice. Remus pitied Mundungus for a second. He wouldn't wish Molly's wrath on his worst enemy. Well, his worst enemy who wasn't a Death Eater or Dark Lord.

"Well, uh, they escaped, didn't they?" he stuttered, clearly doing his best not to flinch, "Some kid went in an' got 'em. They killed Bellatrix Lestrange on the way out, and a bunch of other Death Eaters. It's all over the underworld. Coulda' sworn I told ya."

"You little rat!" Molly screeched, launching her over the table and fastening her hands around the thief's neck. Nobody bothered helping him.

"We can't rely on the Order to give us any help," Snape reminded them. Pansy rolled her eyes. She had never put much stock in the Order's ability to do anything, which she supposed was probably rather unfair as she didn't exactly know anything much about the Order. Or, you know, anything at all, really.

"If this works, we won't need to," she replied, never taking her eyes off the book in her hands. The page she was reading was one that they had all read at least a dozen times in the last few days. It turned out that Professor Snape was a pretty handy researcher, and that Granger carried an almost inexhaustible amount of books around with her in a bottomless bag. At all times. Pansy didn't even want to think about what that said about the Gryffindor girl. Not to mention the fact that at least fifty of the books were from the Hogwarts library, and hadn't been stamped out to Hermione. That bit actually upped Pansy's respect for the Gryffindor girl just a bit.

"The Order wouldn't be any help anyway," Ginny sighed, "Can you imagine if my mum knew what we were planning on doing? There's no fucking way she'd go along with it. It's better just to keep them out of it altogether."

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the redhead; she was beginning to sound rather distant, rather tired all the time. As though she was… resigned to something. But she had been the first to agree to Harry's plan, the one to assure them all that it would work. If Pansy didn't know better, she would think that Ginny was hiding something. But she couldn't be, she was far too Gryffindor to keep a secret in the company of three Slytherins, even if Draco barely counted as such.

Speaking of Draco, he was another one that Pansy was rather worried about, despite her better judgement. She had thought that she couldn't care less about the boy, but it turned out that you couldn't really grow up alongside somebody without ending up with a little bit of concern for their wellbeing. He didn't speak to anybody, besides occasionally Snape, just sat in a corner of the warehouse reading some of the books that Hermione had brought with her. Sometimes he would practice dueling with Snape, but never with anybody else. Luna had sat with him a few times, but they didn't speak. Pansy knew that Draco had gone through a lot in the last few weeks, and she was worried what effect all of this had had on him. He had never gone through any hardship at all until the last few years- the worst thing that had happened before that was Harry Potter refusing his hand in friendship.

Unfortunately, she didn't have a great deal of time to devote to worrying about her friends, being forced to spend most of it practicing the shield spell they had found with the others. It was the most powerful one in any of the books they had found, capable even of blocking an avada kedavra. Just one though. The first step of the spell was to conjure a glass wall between them and the attackers, which would take the hit of a killing curse for them. After that first wall was conjured though, they had to focus all of their attention on the wall of magic behind it, so had no energy left over to make another one.

It would be enough though. It had to be enough. The only other option was to leave Ginny and Harry in the warehouse to face Voldemort and all of his Death Eaters by themselves and run. Which wasn't an option at all if you asked Pansy, however often Ginny tried to assure her that it would be fine. Pansy wasn't willing to risk their two best assets on 'fine'. After all, what if they were killed? What then? It would just be two vigilante groups of slightly above average witches and wizards, both with no leader, against the most terrible dark lord in living memory. And that was never going to end well.

No, Pansy Parkinson had chosen the winning side and that was exactly what it was going to be. The winning side.

Diagon Alley was in uproar. The shops were mostly in ruins, smoke billowing from their windows as a few grim-faced aurors attempted to subdue the flames. Civilians ran amok; children were screaming out for their mothers, shop owners weeping for their ruined businesses, a few unlucky people sobbing over the fresh corpses of friend, family or lover. The bodies were piled mostly around the steps to Gringotts where, not minutes before, two cloaked and hooded figures had disapparated.

They were the ones who had done this. Just two men had destroyed one of the most important centers of magical Britain. A few waves of their wands, that was all it had taken.

The terror this had caused was evident. The street had been silent for an entire minute once the figures had left, shocked into immobility. They knew, of course, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. The attacks, after all, had been getting more frequent all around the country, but not one of them had ever thought that he would dare attack Diagon Alley with only one other man as back up. Because surely one of the figures had been You-Know-Who. Nobody else could possibly have done this much damage in so little time. That was what they all prayed, at least. Because if there was another with this much power, and this much hatred, then England was doomed.

In an alleyway off the main street, two women stood talking in hushed tones. Their garb was that of the Auror's, but if this were true then they were ignoring direct orders to help put out the fires and see to the wounded. If one were to look closely then they would see that the insignia on their robes was not that of the ministry but was instead a blazing phoenix.

"But you saw him!" One was protesting.

"I thought I saw him," the other answered, "It was the heat of battle though, and it was only a glimpse underneath his hood. Besides, who's to say they didn't simply switch places when I wasn't looking?"

"But I was looking!" The first said stubbornly, "They didn't leave my line of sight the entire way through, and I'm telling you they didn't swap places. It was him. Both of them were him. There's two of him. Two. Denying it isn't going to help anything at all."

The second woman ran a hand over her face, ageing ten years in a second as the truth sunk in.

"You're right," she said eventually, "You're right. It explains everything, really. All of the attacks that couldn't be happening unless he was in two places at once. He wasn't in two places- there's just two of him. This is mental. What are we going to do? We've lost Dumbledore, lost our spy, lost our Chosen one, and now we have double the Dark Lord to fight."

"We'll do what we always do," the first told her, "We'll fight. And maybe we'll die, but we will still fight until we do."

The second woman managed a small smile and stood up a little straighter. They had both been in the first war as young women, and now they were getting on in years but that spark of fight had never quite left either of them. They just needed reminding of that sometimes.

"But first," the first woman said, "We need to report to Remus and Moody. We need to get the word out so we can start preparing. One way or the other, I have a feeling that this war isn't going to last much longer."

"What are they thinking?" Molly Weasley screeched. Her husband, upstairs at the time, came hurtling down to see what the matter was. On entering the kitchen he was confronted with the sight of his furious wife clutching the Daily Prophet so hard that she had torn through several pages.

"What were ah… what were who thinking, dear?" He asked, reaching out to try and extract the paper from her hand.

"Our youngest children, that's who! And Harry and Hermione, and dear Luna from across the hill, and… and…" She trailed off as a sob racked through her body and Arthur managed to get hold of the paper at last. He flipped it open to the front page, read for a minute, and then thunked down into the nearest chair. The front page was split into two stories; one third of it was devoted to the destruction of Diagon Alley three days ago, and the other two thirds… well…

Vigilante group calls He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Out!

In this instance, we at the Daily Prophet feel that events should be allowed to speak for themselves, and so what follows is a copy of the letter we received today. Also, we would like You-Know-Who to be advised that we at the Daily Prophet have evacuated our offices and gone into hiding.

Tom Riddle(s),

This has gone on long enough. This war has nothing to do with the people you are killing. This was has nothing to do with civilians, with the Ministry of Magic, with the Aurors or with the Order of the Phoenix.

This war is between you and us.

Come to the graveyard in two days' time at six o'clock. We'll finish this, one way or another.

Now, to the Order and the Aurors. We know that you will try and come but it would be very inadvisable. If you wish for an end to Riddle's reign of terror then you will stay away.

Signed

Harry Potter

Ginevra Weasley

Severus Snape

Hermione Granger

Ronald Weasley

Pansy Parkinson

Neville Longbottom

Luna Lovegood

Draco Malfoy

"And Snape!" Molly sobbed, "What is he thinking, letting a group of school children arrange a battle with Voldemort!"

Arthur tuned her out as she continued to wail; a small part of his mind knew that he should be comforting his wife but the larger part of his mind was preoccupied with going over everything he knew about his daughter's powers. Her name had been signed second on the list, after all, second only to the Chosen One, the one boy in all the world destined to be able to kill Voldemort.

"Riddles," he muttered, "They put Riddles. Molly… Molly!"

His wife jumped slightly at his raised tone, her eyes wide and red.

"They wrote Riddles!" Arthur told her urgently, "As in plural. Hestia was right… there are two of him."

"Merlin help us all," Molly whispered. There was silence for a second as they both tried to process this information but before long Molly's sobs began to fill the kitchen once more.

The atmosphere in the warehouse was grim. Snape was going through the chant for the shielding spell once again with Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville. From the look on his face, or at least the lack of anger on it, they weren't doing too badly, but Ginny still found it strange to see them all working together with their most hated teacher in such a serious, determined manner. Stranger still was Harry and Draco off in a corner having a strained conversation in low tones. That had been Hermione's idea, of course. Nobody else was fool (or genius) enough to force the two of them to try and settle their differences before the fight. Prior to Draco's little murdering incident, Ginny would have thought that maybe it was possible, but now… even with Draco's rescue mission taken into account, he had a lot to make up for. Still, no wands had been drawn thus far and for that at least she was grateful.

"You're not concentrating," Pansy complained, dragging Ginny's thoughts away from the other inhabitants of the warehouse and onto the one opposite her. They were sitting cross legged on the grimy floor, their hands loosely intertwined between them. In theory, Ginny was supposed to be meditating, in preparation for her role in the battle. The final battle, they hoped. In reality though, Ginny couldn't keep her mind focused. She had too much she needed to say, too much she needed to do before… Well, before.

"I'm trying," she whined, well aware of how childish she sounded. Pansy's nose wrinkled and Ginny smiled to see a smudge of dirt on her friend's cheek. The Slytherin girl had spent two whole days refusing to touch most anything in the warehouse before she finally gave in and allowed not only herself to begin to be covered in the dirt that coated everything but for Snape to transfigure her clothes into something more appropriate. Pencil skirts and heels weren't exactly the most practical of outfits when it came to slumming it.

"Well, you obviously aren't trying hard enough," Pansy snapped, annoyed by the lingering smile on Ginny's lips. Ginny was well aware that the older girl didn't think she was taking any of this seriously. She was, of course. There was nothing in her life that she had ever taken more seriously than this, right now, but at the same time Ginny couldn't help but see the light side of everything. She supposed it had something to do with the knowledge that everything would be over soon, one way or another. Everything would be over. All the fighting with her own mind, the trying to appear normal when she had a primal magical being vying for control of her actions.

Besides, there were only really three outcomes to this battle; they won, it worked as Harry thought it would and she would be fine; they won, it worked as Ginny thought it would and she would be lost to the thunder; or they lost and everyone died.

"Pansy… I need to tell you something. And I need you to understand what I'm telling you," she said suddenly. It was something she had been meaning to say ever since Harry unveiled his plan and Ginny had spotted the flaw, but there had just never seemed to be a good time to say it. But now, they didn't exactly have any time left. Pansy nodded, no smart comeback for once.

"Ever since I can remember I've always loved storms. Natural storms," she clarified, "I could always feel them coming, you know, for days beforehand, like a tension in the air, like the sky was vibrating slightly, getting worse and worse each day until the storm hit. There's this hill out the back of my house. It's the highest point for miles around and I would stand up on that hill in the rain with the lightning and thunder crashing around me and it was… it was perfect. It was the most perfect thing I've ever known. It felt… right, you know? Like that was where I was supposed to be, like it was home, like I would never leave it, could never leave it."

She paused and Pansy nodded, but didn't speak. Ginny was grateful for that. Her heart was thumping in her chest and she wasn't sure if she would be able to get the words out if Pansy interrupted. She took a deep breath and began again.

"My brothers were always the ones who came and took me back inside. My mum would send them running out into the rain and they would grab me by the hand and I would go. That feeling like… like I shouldn't be leaving the storm, that was still there but they were… they were family, you know? They were more important than anything else I knew. It wouldn't have worked if they weren't family, if I didn't love them. I'd never leave the storm for anybody I didn't love."

Pansy nodded again, gripping Ginny's hand more tightly and Ginny knew that she understood perfectly. She understood what would need to be done and she would do it. Her heart soared, despite her best efforts to keep her emotions under control. She leant forward and, ever so gently, placed the smallest of kisses on Pansy's lips.

All of her words had deserted her, but Ginny knew that with Pansy, she didn't need them.