Do you hear the people sing?

Lost in the valley of the night

It is the music of a people who are climbing to the light

For the wretched of the earth

There is a flame that never dies

Even the darkest nights will end and the sun will rise

They will live again in freedom in the garden of the Lord

They will walk behind the bloodshed

They will put away the sword

The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward!

- Les Miserables

Isabella met them as they limped, a tight, frightened group, down the stairs between the fourth and third floor.

"Thank Christ!" Zala said. "What's going on? We heard that voice again, and then the fighting stopped."

"We've been given a reprieve of one hour," Isabella explained. "How's Mariano?"

"His arm needs tending," Zala said. Mariano, his teeth clenched tightly together and arm held close to his side, nodded.

"Is anyone else hurt?" Isabella asked. "Who was it who fell?"

"Sara," Isabella recognized the girl as being Caterina's friend, but was ashamed she knew nothing else about her. "Emiliano has a pretty bad gash, he heard a Death Eater coming up the stairs and he wasn't quick enough in barricading the door."

"I'm fine," the Greek shrugged, but his forehead was still bleeding. "Let's get Mariano downstairs."

"Bella, where's Morgan? I thought she and Alex were with you," Terry said, looking over the tattered group.

"They - " Isabella's throat closed up a little. "They're dead, Terry." He looked horrified and turned his head away as his body shook.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have asked." Then he pulled Isabella into a hug and together they led the remnants of the VI downstairs.

Mariano and Emilano reported to the area for the injured, sitting down next to Firenze the centaur whose leg was bleeding.

Isabella and Terry wandered among the dead. Tonks and Lupin had been laid out side by side next to Fred. Isabella's father stood next to Tonks, but rather than looking at her his face was buried in her mother's long dark hair.

Colin Creevy, Isabella's classmate from Gryffindor house, was also there. If she remembered correctly, he was underage. But he must have snuck back in to fight.

Isabella met Caterina where the older girl kneeled beside Sara's body. Isabella stared hard at Sara, as though trying to make up for not knowing her in life by memorizing her features in death. Sara had been thin and blonde. She had had a delicate, willowy look and her pale eyelashes had framed wide eyes. Her purple robes were torn and twisted, and her legs were broken by the fall she had taken.

And at last, as though she had been putting it off, Isabella turned towards Fred's body.

But as she walked towards him, Professor Flitwick stepped in front of her.

"I think there's something you should see," he said.

"Can it..." Isabella's voice died. The Charms teacher was holding a limp bundle of green feathers. Castro.

How can a heart suffer so much loss and still live? How can it be torn into so many pieces and yet still beat?

Isabella took the dead bird gently in her hands. A single tear fell upon the green plumage and rolled off. But whatever had been inside the bird that had made her love him, trust him, call him her beautiful one - that was gone. And this wasn't her Castro. This was his shell. When he had died, his soul had gone, carrying a piece of her heart with him.

There was a disturbance at the doors of the Entrance Hall, but it seemed far away. Isabella's entire world lay still and cold in her hands. And nothing would wake him again. Because he was gone. Gone, just like Fred and Alex and Morgan.

"NO!" Isabella was stirred by the sound of Professor McGonagall's scream.

"No!"

"No!"

"Harry! HARRY!"

Isabella recognized Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's voices as though they were coming to her from a long way off. And people were streaming towards the door, shouting and screaming and yelling.

Gently, with all the tenderness she had ever felt towards the augury, Isabella set Castro's body down between that of Lupin and Colin. Then she stood and shakily made her way to the crowd. Numbly, she pushed her way through them until she could see what they were all staring at.

Voldemort stood there, facing the school, his great snake curled around his shoulders. Behind him stood Hagrid, his face bloody and bloated with tears. The Death Eaters stood in a long line on either side of them, silent and gloating. And in Hagrid's arms lay Harry Potter - dead.

"No," Isabella whispered, but this time grief did not numb her. Rather, it filled her up with anger and frustration. Because if Voldemort won now, all their deaths would have been in vain.

"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light and everyone around Isabella fell silent, as though their mouths had been forcibly slammed shut. "It is over!" Voldemort continued. "Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet where he belongs!" Hagrid, seemingly forced to obey, lowered Harry gently to the grass. The way he did it, so tenderly and gently, reminded Isabella with a pang of how she had set down Castro's little body.

"You see?" said Voldemort, striding backwards and forwards right beside the place Harry lay. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again.

"That's right!" Isabella shouted, tears pouring down her face. "Harry was brave! He fought you and he was always a better man than - " A second, more powerful bang extinguished her voice along with everyone else.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort. "Killed while trying to save himself - "

But someone broke away from the crowd and rushed at Voldemort. There was another bang and a flash of light as Neville fell to his knees and grunted in pain. His wand was cast aside by Voldemort who laughed.

"And who is this?" he hissed. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?" Voldemort waved his wand and a few seconds later, out of one of the castle's shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the half-light and landing in Voldemort's hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged: the Sorting Hat.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then he forced the Hat on to Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. Isabella felt the crowd shift around her and the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

"This boy is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

Isabella screamed. She could not, would not watch another friend perish in flames. With her wand raised, she launched herself forward.

There was an uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what looked like hundreds of people came swarming over the walls and pelted towards the castle, uttering loud war cries.

Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling among the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise as the centaurs charged.

Isabella, who had tried to leap forward, was pushed back into the Entrance Hall by the sheer numbers of people.

The door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges as the house-elves of Hogwarts, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers, joining the fight. They hacked and stabbed at the ankles and shins of Death Eaters.

Isabella came face to face with Thorfinn Rowle, a large blonde Death Eater who had been one of the ones to break in to Hogwarts last year. Isabella shot a jinx at him, but he threw up a Shield Charm just in time. Rowle snarled and cast a curse at Isabella, who ducked the purple jet of light which flew over her head and into the crowd beyong.

She tried to stun him, but her aim was poor and the spell went in wildly in the wrong direction. Rowle grinned like a child playing with a toy as he pointed his wand at her and said, "Avada - "

"STAY AWAY FROM HER!" Terry shouted, hitting Rowle in the back with a spell. The Death Eater crumpled to the floor and lay still. Terry helped Isabella up, keeping one arm around her waist as she stood shakily.

Voldemort was dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once. Bellatrix was closer to Isabella and Terry, and she too battled three at once: Hermione, Ginny, and Luna.

Luna. This was Isabella's first time seeing her in over a year. And as a Killing Curse shot just over Luna's head, Isabella's grip on her wand tightened. But before she could get there, a Killing Curse shot just an inch away from Ginny's cheek.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Mrs. Wealsey threw off her clock as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile faltered, and became a snarl.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried, as a few students ran forwards, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix, capering as Molly's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"You - will - never - touch - our - children - again!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. Bellatrix gave an exhilarated laugh.

Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. Bellatrix's gloating smile froze and for the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened. Her eyes found Isabella's and they seemed to plead her for something, something Isabella would not give, then Bellatrix toppled.

The crowd around Isabella roared, but she could only stare at Bellatrix's body.

"We aren't so different, you and I. Are we, Bella?"

Voldemort screamed and McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn were blasted backwards, flailing and writhing through the air as Voldemort's fury exploded with the force of a bomb. Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.

"Protego!" someone roared. Harry suddenly appeared in the middle of the hallway, a shimmering silvery blue cloak held in his hand.

The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry began to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

How Isabella wished she could have said that in regards to Bellatrix. How she wished it had been she to finish off that deranged lieutenant of Voldemort. Because then it would have been closed and she wouldn't be left feeling empty and uncompleted. The Gold Raven had risen, but Isabella had not answered its call. Was this what the Oracle and Rowena had meant: lion-not-lion? Was she brave and courageous, but failed to answer?