Hello! Tension, tension, tension. And instead of answering your kind reviews, I wrote as fast as I could to relieve you of the cliffhanger. That deserves a private hooray for me. So: HOORAY! Lol, I'm done now. Enjoy the chapter which is divided into several paragraphs this time.

Inspirational music: Send me an angel by Scorpions

Chap. 40 Frontiers

It was dark. All was dark.

He hurt.

Wet grass chilled his hand. He slowly came to.

He breathed but only barely. It was agony to inhale and exhale. He moaned but even the pitiful sound split his head in two.

A memory flashed before his blinded eyes. A fall. Falling to his death but managing to think the incantation; Aresto Momentum, and swinging his wand. The spell hadn't worked, not completely. Which must be why Scabior now found himself dying on his back. He should not have tried the spell since he preferred a quick, clean death before this drawn-out torture.

He was scared. Scared of the surrounding darkness. Then he understood his eyes were closed. They fluttered open but everything was a blur. Darkness above him, darkness around him. Night. And then he blinked and focused on something in his peripheral vision.

A cascade of orange, grey and yellow, tinged with all kinds of colours. His brain was so slow but finally he understood and let his eyes linger on the light, a refuge from the threatening darkness. The castle was on fire. Hogwarts, his school, was burning and he saw the bright evidence of spells reflected on the ancient walls.

Suddenly he swallowed but nearly choked on the mix of his own saliva and blood. He let his head roll to the side until he felt cold grass against his cheek. He opened his mouth, wanted to spit but his tongue did not seem to co-operate with him. He settled for letting the phlegm dribble out from him until he could breathe again.

Stars twinkled before his eyes. No, that was wrong. He should not be able to see stars from this position. He frowned and closed his eyes when waves of nausea hit him over and over. It was so cold. Did he shiver? Scabior could not tell. But something inside him clung to the small thread of life force. He knew he teetered on the edge.

He wanted to know more. If only his senses could collaborate with him. He allowed himself to pick up sounds in the darkness caused by his closed lids. A faint scream and bangs echoed from a distance. From the castle? But he perceived something else that was closer. A moan. Yes, several moans close to him. Gasps and wheezing breaths.

A gentle but freezing wind blew over him and he felt cold spots on his face. Apparently he was or had been crying. He thought of his mother. He was so sorry for this. Scabior relinquished his grip on consciousness.

Harry had left them with clear instructions; to kill the snake and make sure there only was one horcrux left: Harry. Hermione was beyond exhausted. Her clammy hand tightly held her wand and the other held onto Ron as they dashed down a damaged stair.

She had survived crossing the courtyard, crouching against the wall to the boathouse with Voldemort on the other side, escaping a sinister Fiendfyre. She had seen people die. Young children buried in heaps of rubble. People she knew being cursed to death.

A short respite of ceasefire before the break of dawn had been given to them by Voldemort. She had walked the worst path in her life from the still standing doors of the Great Hall to the end of the large room. Professors silently placing sheets over small, unmoving bodies. Wizards and witches alike crying over lost ones or apathetically staring at their vicious wounds. And then the trio had reached the stretchers. Lupin and Tonks resting side by side even in death. Lavender who would never again catch a boy's attention. And Fred. Her never-ending tears had made smudges across her grimy cheeks as she had mourned the twin and supported Ron with all what was left of her broken heart.

The cruelty of war had not spared anyone in the castle from experiencing the cold claws of death. This was not war, nor was it a battle. It was a massacre. And then Harry had decided to end it all by meeting the Dark Lord's demand: to go out to him and give himself over. Hermione had wanted to stop him, then when she had understood he would not cave, she had asked, begged him, to let her join him. But he had said no, though she had heard him choking on a sob. Brave Harry.

He was out there now, had been alone for hours. And the morning was ruthlessly arriving, as if ignoring the gravity of the nightmarish battle against the dark arts. But Hermione had not lost hope yet. Not when there still was something worth fighting for. And she believed in Scabior.

"Ron! In here!" she yelled to the boy behind her and turned left into an empty corridor. A particular tail slithered around a corner and disappeared. A ragged breath belonging to Ron came from behind.

"Hermione, stop! What if it turns…" Ron trailed off when a gigantic head of scales with thin yellow slits showed itself and hissed to them. Nagini knew they were after her. Hermione saw Ron lift the basilisk fang and tug her back until she crashed into his shoulder.

"You distract it and I'll strike," he muttered while the snaked coiled itself and managed to lift the heavy upper body. Hermione lifted her wand and cast a nonverbal charm at the roof to make stones rain down over the creature. Ron leapt forward and aimed the fang at the snake's temple when the reptile simply shook off the stones as if they were light pebbles and lunged the entire head sideways with frightening force so Ron was pushed into the wall and dropped the fang.

Hermione gasped when she saw him sag down and jumped in front of his momentarily knocked out form to protect him against another attack. The snake's black tongue showed itself before the gape opened wide and a whole set of sharp teeth dripping with venom met her eyes. Hermione could not think of a single spell in that moment.

Then the snake hissed and retreated with flashing speed. It practically raced away and left Hermione with a stunned expression. But then she hurried to see to Ron and knelt by his side. "Ron? Ron, are you alright?"

A strangled groan from him and his eyes flying open calmed her down. "Merlin, that was unpleasant. Where did it go?" he muttered and massaged his shoulder before he got up.

"I…I don't know. I thought it was going to kill us when it just turned the other way."

They found the fang and then stumbled over the heap of crumbled rocks to pursue Nagini. They went into the next corridor but it was empty. Suddenly Hermione realized the entire castle was silent as if it held its breath. A strange premonition made her look out the window and observe the ruined courtyard. The people of Hogwarts were gathering in it. And then she leant forward and pressed her head against the cool windowpane to be able to see what everyone down there was looking at. A procession was coming over the stone bridge.

"Ron, I think we should go down to the others," she whispered and reached for his hand. It was only when his grasped hers that she became aware of the fact that her fingers trembled violently. Once they stepped out into the fresh air which made the smoke slowly vanish and joined the Weasley family Hermione finally saw who was approaching.

Voldemort, Tom Riddle, walking purposely towards them all with a victorious sneer and Nagini by his side. They were followed by a column of Death Eaters dressed in black robes and without their masks. Were they so sure of the outcome? Suddenly Hermione squinted her eyes and could make out a tall figure amongst the dark wizards.

"Hagrid."

"That's Hagrid."

"What's he carrying?"

Subdued voices rolled over them until Voldemort entered the courtyard. "Harry Potter…is dead!" he shouted with excitement and Hermione faltered. It was a trick, a…

"Harry! 'es dead!" Hagrid cried out in an utterly broken wail and that was when Hermione saw the burden in his arms. A raven-haired and lanky boy with glasses that were askew.

"Harry… nooo!" Ginny screamed and made to run forward when Mr. Weasley caught her sleeve and hauled her back. Distantly, Hermione heard gasps around her, saw people bow their head, how Professor McGonagall went rigid whereas Ron let her hand slide from shocked, Hermione lifted it to her mouth and felt something inside her die. Then Voldemort impatiently waved his hand and everyone went silent when he cast a spell on them.

"Yes, it is true. But this is not the end, valiant wizards and witches. This is the beginning of a new era. My era."

"You maybe think so, but we will never surrender to you!" Neville unexpectedly said and both broke the spell and stepped out from the throng of the students. Voldemort grinned and showed his yellow teeth. "And who might you be? A Gryffindor, I suspect?"

"Neville Longbottom"

A roar of laughter came from the Death Eaters and Hermione willed Neville to back down. Sometimes it was better to establish a secret resistance than openly defy the enemy. But Neville's voice seemed deeper, and carried a rare tone of sureness.

"Ah, the offspring of the Longbottom's. Then you are most fortunate, boy. I will need purebloods like you with your courage to build up my new order."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over!" Neville spat which enraged Voldemort. He snarled and waved his wand. A brown bird swooned over them until they discovered it was the Sorting Hat.

"Here, you foolish boy!" the Dark Lord smiled and made the hat cover Neville's head and then burst into flames. It was more horrible than Hermione could ever have imagined. But then the temporary calm ended.

Neville suddenly broke free from the spell and pushed off the hat. Everyone from Hogwarts screamed in frustration and managed to He reached into it and pulled out the shining sword of Gryffindor. Hagrid screamed something inaudible over the sudden noise and Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and inhaled sharply before he raised his wand. Hermione watched as if enthralled, how Neville jumped forward, swung the blade, and chopped the head off Nagini. Voldemort halted and stared with mad red eyes as his snake became black ashes.

"Long live Dumbledore's army!" Neville shouted before curses and spells once more began to fly over the area and the young defenders began to run for the castle.

"Harry's alive!" someone called in the throngs and a stab of shock surged through Hermione. Was it true? She turned her head and saw Hagrid standing alone.

"He's here, Ron! Harry is alive!" she let out and vigorously shook his arm to make him and herself fathom the incredible news.

Another flame that further lit her hope was the fact that she had not seen any snatchers in Voldemort's ranks or in the castle during the previous battle. Perhaps that meant they had abandoned the fight, refused to continue fighting for the Dark Lord. Maybe Scabior was behind it. She could almost feel it in her heart he was still alive and out there in safety. So she would continue to fight for all of them. Harry could still defeat Voldemort who now was merely a mortal.

The morning light met Scabior's eyes when he opened them again. A bleak, vaporous morning in shadow. His head lolled up and he took a heaving breath but winced when thorns and needles prickled his skin everywhere. And his back burned from searing flames abusing his body. He took a more shallow breath and wondered if it was possible to bust a rib in the back.

He listened to the sounds around him, having to do something to stay awake, and be alive. He was not sure how much time he had left before he died. As the minutes passed by, the quiet moans and labored pants in the terrain around him grew fainter until they stopped completely.

Scabior was afraid of the silence. He strained his ears to pick up another sound, any sound. Above him; spells crashing into the walls of Hogwarts. Were they still fighting? How could they be so strong, the good side? It was a mystery to Scabior but nevertheless he thanked Merlin the Dark Lord had not won yet.

Was Hermione up there, shooting spells at everyone who attempted to harm her or her friends? If only he could know for sure. With that knowledge it would have been easier for him to either slip away peacefully, or stay in this world. Scabior began to caress the grass. Something to occupy his mind with. The feeling of thin grass blades slipping between his cool fingers. The dewy air filling his lungs. He lay on the reliable, solid ground which was good. He felt connected with the dirt, on which he had run many miles in his snatcher life.

Suddenly Scabior remembered his snatcher inside. The both trusted and blasted nature that had made him who he was. He closed his eyes, blocked out the grey clouds to instead focus on his inner companion. He clenched his fists and they shook as he searched. There, deep down in his heart cowered the snatcher. It was wounded and weak. Scabior considered trying to coax his nature into helping him out by evoking a snatcher seizure. Perhaps he would get his powers back and heal himself. But Scabior had to give up and bitterly chewed on his lip.

He knew his state this time was worse than the one after his private meeting with Voldemort in the ministry of Magic. His body was impaired. And sometimes not even magic could remedy such serious injuries.

As the temperature increased in the valley he understood when his lower body stayed ice cold. His back was broken. His dear legs were paralysed. And his chances to survive steadily grew smaller.

An overwhelming grief struck his core. It was not fair. Just when he had found love, a family, hope, redemption, and faith in the future, it was all taken from him. Did he deserve this? Yes, probably. But that did not mean he wanted it, so call him a greedy bastard.

A vehement exhaustion filled him and presented an alluring sleep. It was so tempting to give in, to rest and feel his body being sheltered by soothing sleep.

'Just gonna close my eyes. Just for a bit.'

Scabior succumbed to the tiredness and stopped moving his hands over the grass. 'Hermione, my beautiful thing.'

Surprise was not an expression Hermione had thought she would ever see on Bellatrix Lestrange's face. But as the witch was hit by a stunning jinx from a vengeful Mrs Weasley, she lost her grin and when Mrs Weasley once again flicked her wand, Bellatrix form exploded into thousands of crystals. An enraged cry sounded through the Great Hall and Hermione turned to see that Voldemort had observed what had happened.

He turned into elusive black smoke and flew closer to Harry. They began to duel and everyone ceased their activity to watch the Dark Lord and The Boy Who Lived fight against for their lives against each other. Harry called Voldemort Tom and said he had never fully understood the love Snape had felt for Lily Potter and that eventually, Harry had won the allegiance of the Elder Wand. Hermione only heard the two antagonists talking and her own heartbeats. The whole Hall seemed to hold its breath.

And then Voldemort cast the killing curse at the same time as Harry cast a disarming charm. The Dark Lord's curse rebounded upon meeting the invincible wand and hit Voldemort square on the chest. Voldemort's eyes flashed with fear and realization before he fell to his knees and opened his mouth in a silent scream. And then he fell dead to the floor, seemingly small and wasted in the black robes and he moved no more.

At first it was hard to grasp what had happened, but then Hermione's eyes flooded tears of with relief, happiness and gratitude for Harry's survival. As the Hall erupted into a roar of blissful laughter and outcries, she rushed towards Harry and embraced him with the force of a sister showing her love for her brother.

"Hermione, we did it! We did it," Harry said with wonder and hugged her back. Then Ron put his arms around both of them and then everyone followed his lead and gathered in one big joyous crowd.

"Hermione, mind my glasses," Harry chuckled when Hermione had placed a hard kiss on his temple and for the first time this morning she studied him up-close. His eyes shone with glee, his shoulders were relaxed and despite the dirt on his cheek and the sweat on his forehead, Harry seemed so relieved that his quest was over, that the darkness was defeated once and for all. There was hope.

The only thing she was missing now was a certain snatcher but he must have been somewhere away from the battlefield with his kin. She would celebrate here first, and then go and find him.

"Check them with spells. We don't want one of them to feign death and then escape."

"Merlin's beard, I think this fellow was alive until the dawn. Imagine that, Williamson, being alive while being impaled on a rock."

"Served him right. He's finally paid for all the lives he's had on his conscience."

Slurred words entered Scabior's mind, disturbed him in his lulled state. He wanted them gone. His head ached and when the sounds approached him, it grew worse.

"Should we take their wands? Just in case, I mean?"

"I suppose so. They sure won't need them anymore."

Boots shuffled through the grass and someone yanked something from a piece of clothing, or so he guessed.

"Look at this one! He's tried to crawl up the bloody hill? I always said these snatchers had stamina beyond even our comprehension, and we're Aurors. But…Williamson, come here! The maggot is alive!"

Heavy but rapid steps ran past Scabior.

"Well done, mate! Now, let's finish what the fall started."

"No! Are you out of your mind! We are to make sure the survivors stay alive! We've got to have someone to prosecute for the crimes they committed."

"But Tibertius, they've snatched innocent children and families for dirty galleons! They sold their own kind to the Dark Lord because they enjoyed it! How can you defend their right to live?"

"I'm just saying we have to take them to court. It's the proper and just way of a civilized society and what the leaders in a free world would do. If we kill this man now, we're as good as any Death Eater."

A man snorted in the distance. "Fine, if only to keep my own conscience clear. Episkey." A loud snap echoed through the valley and a tortured scream followed.

"Listen, you scum, we might levitate you up the hill because we would never want to dirty our hands by carrying you, but you'll not see a glimpse of a Skele-Gro once you're under arrest."

Scabior shivered but not from the cold. Instead he felt heat capture him and bothering the parts of him he still felt with no respite. Did he have a fever on top of everything else? He did not want to lie as a vegetable with temperature problems and wait for the men to discover him. He would rather to die alone.

He opened his eyes and saw blue colour. He blinked and looked again. The sky was visble and every cloud that for so long had covered the light was gone. The sun glimmered in the horizon. How odd. But then Scabior's brain caught on. The men, no, the Aurors were down here, clearing the area with no rush. And now that he come to think about it, he neither heard nor saw spells coming from the castle. But the people up there still shouted…

'It's the voices of children,' he suddenly thought and found himself smiling a little. They had won. The Dark Lord was defeated and gone.

Two times in his life, Scabior had lived with the constant threat of Voldemort taking over the world. And now they were free. His snatcher drank in the sunrays and jerked with merriness of having no bonds of allegiances controlling his movements. His left wrist hurt but it was a good feeling.

"Looks like we've got another, Williamson! He's breathing and seeing!" a triumphant exclamation reached Scabior and his face stiffened. His own body had betrayed him. A shadow fell over him when someone as if on purpose placed himself in the way of the sunlight. Scabior took in the tall man who bore a swanky grin on his round face and pointed a wand at his chest.

"What a pleasant surprise. Don't worry, we'll take care of you, you poor thing."

Somehow Scabior understood the man spoke with no compassion and his teeth began to clatter, whether from the fever raiding his body or the terrifying helplessness he thought so foreign.

"What's wrong with this bloke?" Glitter in different colours seeped into Scabior's wrecked limbs and he inhaled sharply but could only lie there with his gaze fixed on the clear sky as the Auror examined himwith spells.

"His spine has taken some serious damage. And six ribs on his back are broken, one so much it's got a loose piece dangling against his lung. It's your lucky day, sod, that your paralyzed legs kept you immobile. That probably saved your sorry life," the man in front of him taunted and kicked Scabior's heels. It was a harder blow to him that he despite the humiliation was unable to feel anything.

"Leave me alone." His voice lacked authority, was more like a husky whine.

But by speaking, Scabior aggravated the itch in his throat and he closed his watering eyes, fighting the urge to cough since he did not want to replace the itch with pain. Instead he swallowed and tried to breathe calmly if nothing else.

"You've got that wrong. We're not thick as thieves like the rest of your lot. I'll have you know that you can kiss your freedom goodbye, snatcher!" the Auror replied in a mocking tone. Then he waved his wand and ropes as well as a stretcher appeared and landed on the ground.

"Get him ready, Tibertius," the man who apparently was Williamson demanded and left from Scabior's sight. But he said nothing more, and only gritted his teeth when the ropes were wrapped tightly around his frame. As if he could summon any strength to curse his way out of here!

"Is this your wand?" the second Auror asked with a formal frown and then abruptly rammed the wand into his exposed neck. Scabior tried to angle away from the abusive wood but could not avoid it. The pressure left his neck and he took a shuddering breath before he emitted a small moan. His wand had acknowledged him.

"Alright, Besides these two rats, the others are dead. Let's levitate this man to the stretcher," Williamson commanded and then Scabior's hands lost contact with the grass.

He was about to think of something when a sharp stab hit him in the middle. The agony became too much for his body and his brain decided to shut down. His eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.

Scabior's situation is one I've been picturing for a loooong time, so I hope you liked it, too. ;)