A/N: Here's the next chapter. It's a break from the action. Feel free to review. I hope you're all well.

"You can't be serious!" I shouted, my eyes wide as I stared at the vampires in disbelief. "Have you lost you minds? You're talking about taking on the darkest and most dangerous wizard of all time! This is absolutely insane! I've never heard anything so ridiculous!"

"You said it yourself, Bella," Alice said dismissively. "Our skin is impenetrable to magical attack—"

"With regular wands! If Voldemort truly does have the Death Stick, how do you know that it won't be powerful enough to hurt you, too?"

"We don't," Edward answered, refusing to accept my protests, "but who else is there that will be strong enough or fast enough to take it from him? He may be powerful, Bella, but he's still just one man. Even if he is immortal until his Horcrux is destroyed, are you really telling me that you believe he'll be able to hold onto the wand with seven vampires aiming to take it from him?"

Edward had a point; I couldn't really deny that.

"I hate the thought of any of you going up against him." Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. I tried to blink them back, but my trembling voice had already alerted Edward.

He took the mahogany wand from my left hand in order to replace it with his own, and I squeezed his fingers with all my strength as they locked together with mine. He stopped and held me back, indicating for his family to rejoin the others.

"We'll be there in a minute," he told them, his eyes never leaving my face.

They departed without a word, understanding our present need for privacy. The second they were gone, Edward pressed my body to his, wrapping my arms securely around his neck and swinging my legs up to circle his waist.

Then his marble lips were against my soft ones, which moulded themselves around his as our kiss unfolded. It was nothing like our usual kisses—not careful or hesitant, as to prevent inflicting injury upon the fragile, little human—but was filled with an incredible sense of urgency, a desperate need, on both our parts, to communicate every gram of desire and love we felt for one another.

When the kiss finally ended, I held my face against Edward's, cooling my burning cheeks against his perfect, icy skin. He traced soothing patterns up and down my spine, whilst I concentrated on returning my pulse to its usual rhythm.

"Please don't do anything reckless when the fight starts again," he said finally. "There will always been one of us there to protect you, but promise me you'll do everything you can to keep yourself safe."

As I looked into Edward's eyes, I realised they were swimming with intense desperation and unshakable fear. The only thing I could compare it with was what I had seen just before he had left me to go and hunt James; but even those emotions were watery in comparison.

He was battling an unfamiliar enemy, one who, despite everything, had evaded death time and again. If it had been a vampire the Cullens were putting themselves up against, I'm sure Edward would have been exuding absolute confidence in their ability to protect me; but they weren't, and no matter how strong or agile each member of his family happened to be, we both knew that this was a completely different breed of monster.

"I promise," I said, in reply to his demand, "but you have to do the same. You have to keep safe, too."

"I will."

And then he kissed me one last time, before we headed off again in the direction of the others. I stumbled on quite a few occasions as we made our way to the Great Hall; it was only to be expected, of course, with the constant obstructions of fallen stone and splintered wood lining the floor, but I couldn't argue that I'd been watching my steps carefully.

I was determined not to take my eyes from Edward's face, trailing my eyes, once again, along the ridge of nose, and over his pale, full lips, though I was fully convinced that I already knew every shade and angle by heart; after all, when we were together, in less stressful situations, I never stopped looking at him.

We had just reached the Grand Staircase when I caught some unknown emotion flash across his eyes. For the very briefest moment, his body went completely rigid.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately.

His eyes found mine, and he blinked rapidly, as if returning from some kind of daydream. "It's nothing."

I was about to protest, but then I caught sight of Angelina and Katie a little further off. They were carrying the limp body of a female Ravenclaw student; she was petite and had beautiful, thick red curls. Her skin was dotted in places with freckles, and her eyes were a wonderful sapphire blue. And then I felt a sickness overtake me as I realise that they were dead. They looked up blindly as Fred's had, completely devoid of life.

Edward gripped my hand in his as I suppressed the rising lump in my throat, along with the massive urge to go to pieces. I knew that that would come later, but if I started now, there was a good chance I wouldn't be able to stop in time for the battle. When I finally did allow the grief to wash over me, I wanted to deal with it without interruption. It would be easier that way.

"Here, let me," Edward said, approaching my friends to relieve them of the girl. "Why don't you join the others? You should rest."

Angelina and Katie didn't take much convincing. They were tough enough that they could have carried on without succumbing to physical fatigue, but the task of having to look upon the dead was leaving them mentally and emotionally drained.

Katie closed the girl's eyes before thanking Edward and leaving with Angelina. I walked beside Edward as we made our way after them.

On our way, we passed Neville and Wood. They were sharing the weight of a Hufflepuff student. This time it was a male; he was tall and lean, and had a head of thick black hair.

I looked away quickly, not strong enough to handle the sight, and walked through the large open doors of the Great Hall.

Madam Pomfrey was located at the front on the raised platform, her attention devoted entirely to the injured. Carlisle was with her, though his skills were not particularly helpful in the current situation, especially when he had no tools to treat the many individuals. He seemed to resign himself to comforting those in pain, offering small gestures, like holding their hands.

In the middle of the hall was a long line of bodies. They looked peaceful, and could have been mistaken for sleepers, for only a few had had their features marked by ugly wounds and gashes. I suppose that that was the one and only comfort of Avada Kedavra—there was no prolonged suffering; the effects were instant.

My eyes flew to the Weasleys gathered around Fred's body. I could only stand to look at them for a second, before I had to turn away. I couldn't bear to watch George as he crouched over the head of his lifeless twin. His face was overflowing with grief and despair, raw from the endless tears cascading down his freckled skin. This would be the hardest on him; he had lost a half of himself to the Death Eaters.

"Come away, Bella," Edward whispered, one hand on the small of my back, the other weaving our fingers together, as he pulled me in the direction of Esme and Rosalie.

They were stood with their backs to the wall, attempting to comfort one another.

"Bella," Esme said as we reached them, pulling me away from her son into a loving, motherly embrace.

I allowed a single tear to escape my eyes as I stood with my face pressed against her neck. She untangled one of her hands and used it to stroke the full length of my hair. Finally, she released me back to Edward, and despite the fact that her frozen vampiric body allowed her no tears of her own, I could see, as her focus swept the growing line of the eternal sleepers, that she was allowing the grief of our collective loss to overtake her. It was written along her brow, it was swimming in her eyes, and it was audible in her hitched and rapid breathing. Naturally, someone as loving and passionate as Esme would suffer in such a situation, even though the dead were strangers to her.

"So young," Rosalie whispered. "So much promise."

I nodded.

Though her expression remained stiff, her eyes suddenly filled with a ferocious hate. My instincts told me to look away, but I fought them off, determined to meet her gaze. "Don't worry, Bella," she continued, "we'll ensure that it wasn't for nothing."

And then my hand was in hers, and she was squeezing it tightly.

After my flight to Volterra and Rosalie's disclosure of the details of her transformation, our relationship had improved a little. I knew that she was personally offended by my decision to become a permanent member of the Cullen family, believing as she did that I was foolishly abandoning my precious mortality, and she would never fully like me because of it. I don't think that that was something that I would ever be able to change. Yes, she might learn to accept me; in part, I think she already had, but there would always be that unavoidable resentment that she would never be able to get passed.

It made her kind and tender gesture all the more meaningful, and I was truly grateful to have her with me at Hogwarts, in what could very well be the final battle against Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

I smiled at her appreciatively, and squeezed her hand in return. Then she released me and addressed the other two.

"I'm going to go help the others," she said, before leaving the hall in a blur of gold and white.

"What are the others doing?" I asked, my eyes flicking upwards so that I could look at Edward. He had a very far off look about him, his brow furrowing infinitesimally above his vacant eyes.

"It was too much for Jasper, so they went to help gather the dead," he said absently, provoking a sharp stab in the pit of my stomach. I jerked suddenly, rousing Edward from his seeming trance.

He looked at me for a long moment, caressing my cheek with his finger tips as he did so. They moved downwards, and spent a minute stroking along my lower lip, before he finally spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me, Bella?" His eyes sparked with pain.

I had to say something; I couldn't allow him to believe that I didn't trust him. I could tell that that possibility was saturating his mind, and it hurt him.

"There were too many external factors," I explained quietly, hoping he would be able to accept my reasoning. "First, I wanted to get to know you and your family before I revealed my secret. It's not just mine, after all—there's an entire world of people like me."

I waved my hand slowly, indicating the wizards and witches occupying the hall. Edward nodded in understanding.

"But then James happened, which delayed things a little. And, then, as I was working my way up to telling you … you were gone."

His posture stiffened for a second, and I knew he was experiencing another horrible wave of guilt and regret. I felt bad for bringing it up, but he'd wanted an explanation.

"I would have admitted everything as soon as I realised that you were going to stay with me, but I had Aro to worry about … and I was frightened that he'd want me so much more if he knew what I was capable of. Plus, I didn't want to be responsible for some kind of wizard-manhunt.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. I can't imagine how disappointed you are with me."

His hand was suddenly tucked under my chin, pulling it upwards and preventing me from looking away.

"Bella, there's nothing wrong with trying to shield yourself and friends. I know that you would have told me if you could have. And I understand that you couldn't just blurt out your secret the second we met. If there's anyone who can appreciate the importance of anonymity, it's my family and I. I'm just sorry I had to wait so long to finally see the real you."

"You're not disappointed," I asked, "now that you know I'm not as fragile as you thought?"

Despite everything, his lips curved upwards a tiny fraction at the corners. "Oh, I wouldn't go as far to say that you weren't fragile. You're still human, after all, and I'm still a vampire. But seeing the lengths you'd go to to defend your friends—the way you have done tonight—well, you can understand, surely, why that would make me as proud as I am to have you?"

The relief was instantaneous and absolute; it was like taking a breath after being plunged beneath a watery surface for far too long.

I crushed my face back into Edward's chest and allowed him to snake his arms around my back again. We stayed like that for a while, and I was content in the knowledge that if I were to die in the next few hours, I wouldn't have spent the time before my last battle wanting to do anything but that.

That last thought triggered a kind of spark in my head, and I felt something niggling away at my brain, though I couldn't quite work out exactly what it was. And then it ignited into life, and I was suddenly furious with myself.

I had forgotten to inform Edward of what I had witnessed during the Dementor attack! I should have been spending the hour telling him about his soul—of how, despite its tiny size, it shone brilliantly like a miniature star, instead of wasting time discussing myself.

If I died in the immediate future, he would never know the truth.

"Edward," I said urgently, "there's something I—"

"Bella," he interrupted, his posture suddenly going rigid. I looked up, and saw that his eyes were as wide as saucers, his mouth hanging open slightly and forming a small 'o'. "I have to go."

"What? What are you—"

"I'm needed. The others need me to help with the bodies. Here—" he said, placing the mahogany wand back in my free hand. "I'll be back soon. Stay with Esme."

And then, before I had a chance to protest, Edward was moving away from me, just as Rosalie had—an indistinct blur of snowy skin and shinning bronze hair.