A/N: Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews! They mean the world to me!

In this chapter, I want to clarify the 'rules' of Sigurd's prophecies. His visions are not like Trelawny's. He remembers them and they come to him in his dreams, so, they play out like movies.

The prophecies are complex with so many bits and pieces interwoven, so many choices that have to be made in a proper order to be able to happen. Many prophecies are useless because they became obsolete through various decisions from many different people. If a prophecy was impossible to come to pass he wouldn't see it. (i.e. He sees himself with Hermione a thousand years before she is born. As unlikely as it is that he would actually be with her, it happens.) But he sees many different futures. Example: he can see the same event with several different outcomes.

Also, I posted a short one-shot of an eighteen-year-old Sigurd having a vision about sleeping with Hermione, called Dreaming of You. There is smut.

19

Previously:

Snape shook his head and said, "No matter what, you are still not her mother. This is cruel, even for you."

"I would die for her," Bellatrix raised her head defiantly. She vehemently disagreed with him. This was the best she could do for Hermione. The only thing that may earn her redemption from the young witch. No matter the consequences, it was worth it.

**HGHG**

Snape helped Bellatrix to her feet and handed her one of the vials of healing potion and blood replenisher. As loathe as he was to waste valuable potions on her, he knew that Hermione wouldn't feel the same way. For some reason, she wanted Bellatrix alive. It was ridiculous but Narcissa also deserved the chance to face her sister, for better or worse.

Bellatrix nodded her thanks and downed the contents of the vials. She sighed as they began working, further healing her internal wounds. Lastly, Snape handed her a small single dose of Skele-Gro and watched as she shuddered upon quaffing the whole in one go.

"Perhaps you should sit out the rest of the battle, Bella," Snape muttered, hoping she took the chance he offered. The chance to flee.

"That is the stupidest thing you have ever said," Her eyes snapped angrily to his. He shrugged, not really caring either way.

They walked together out of the Great Hall, stopped only by a deep mocking voice that said, "Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Severus and Bellatrix turned around wands aloft. Standing in the middle of the first stairway in Hogwarts, nonchalantly leaning against the stone banister, was Antonin Dolohov. The sneer on his face rivaled that of Snape's own patented look during potions.

"Dolohov," Snape smirked, letting his wand point to the floor as if saying there was nothing to fear from his former brother in arms. "You seemed to have recovered from the ticks nicely. It's such a shame that I let you live that day but hindsight and all that,"

Dolohov clenched his teeth and glared, shuddering infinitesimally at the memory.

"If it wasn't for you, I would have Hermione right now. She wouldn't have been stolen out from underneath me."

"Oh, no. Don't blame me for your shortcomings. If she doesn't want you now, she wouldn't have wanted you then. Your deficiencies are your own."

"You bloody bastard," Dolohov groundout. A jet of red light illuminated the darkened entryway as it sailed across the room.

**HGHG**

Hermione allowed that she didn't have time to figure out what game her men were up to nor was she going to figure out why Sigurd failed to inform her that he was still dreaming of prophecies. They all followed her from the dungeons still as tight-lipped as ever. She suspected that Sigurd had a vision of more than what they showed to Voldemort and that it was imperative that they not tell her. She could admit that it chaffed.

Despite hating that she wasn't in the loop of their little scheme, she recognized that she had a much larger problem on her hands. She didn't have a wand and her wandless magic was unreliable. Still, she wasn't talking to them until they deigned to include her.

A loud crash came from the entranceway, several meters in front of them. Smoke filled the room and the castle groaned as it absorbed the strong attacks being hurled back and forth. Stone burst above their heads as they moved into the open and showered down upon them. Tiny cuts on Hermione's face and neck caused trickles of blood to run down into her robes.

Draco, who was the closest to her, grabbed her arm, preventing her from joining the fray. Panic bubbled up in her throat. The longer she was held back, the more intense the feeling became. She felt compelled to step in, to take up arms, even knowing she had no means to do so.

A low grunt filled the room as a deep purple spell landed on its mark, dropping one of the combatants to their knees. Still, they had no idea who was battling so fiercely.

"Damn you, Snape! Just have the fucking decency to die properly!" Dolohov screamed as Snape sent another volley of spell-fire.

The compulsion to protect was too much for Hermione to ignore and she ripped her arm out of Draco's grasp, running full tilt and disappearing into the choking stone dust that obstructed any sort of decent view.

"Hermione!" Draco yelled, equally panicked and scrambled to catch her arm again. It was a lost cause because before he was able to take his next breath, she was gone.

Hermione couldn't see anything but she felt like a homing pigeon who knew exactly where to fly. It was a straight course she was on, presumably towards Snape. All of a sudden a horrifying prospect entered her mind. Snape was in an intense battle and she owed the man a life debt.

Reaching her destination, she caught a spell on her left shoulder on her back, shielding Snape the only way she was able; with her own body. She crumpled to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Bellatrix's surprised shout filled the room as she caught her head and prevented a very serious concussion. Bellatrix's scrabbling fingers caught in the chain around her neck, slowing her descent until the chain snapped.

Spells continued flinging back and forth as Dolohov continued his assault against Snape, not realizing that a third party had been injured. Snape only took a moment to look at Bellatrix in askance, ensuring that Hermione's wounds were not life-threatening before returning to the fight with a vengeance.

Hermione sighed with relief. The small nodule in the very center of her being that indicated a life debt was gone, paid at a crucial moment. They couldn't afford to lose such a strong wizard like Snape. Not now.

"Poppet, are you okay?" Bellatrix asked, laying her down flat on the floor and hovering over her. Bellatrix worked quickly, healing and stitching her open wounds and soothing burns. Hermione groaned. Was she okay? It felt like her whole body was on fire. At least it was a spell she recognized, having been on its receiving end the year they went to the ministry to save Sirius. Hermione gurgled, unable to drown the pain enough to answer coherently.

"Please," Bellatrix begged as Hermione's eyes rolled to the back of her head.

A blue light enveloped the mad witch who now looked like her mother, taking her Merlin knew where. Hermione was at her limit. The pain crashed over her and unconsciousness welcomed her with opened arms.

Hermione came around almost immediately and jumped a mile high as furious whispers reached her ears.

"Damn it, Hermione, I am going to wring your neck!" Abraxas growled in her ear. "You are not going to fucking die on me! Not now, not ever!"

"I'm okay,"

"Until I get a hold of you," He muttered dangerously.

Spells ricocheted off the shield that Abraxas had raised around them and she watched as Draco, Lucius, and Snape set upon Dolohov with murderous intent. Unsurprisingly, Dolohov didn't last long under the onslaught as two spells collided and hit him mid-chest. He was pushed onto his back, landing heavily on the stairs. Hermione could barely hear Lucius' mocking voice over the raining stone.

"You had the opportunity to switch to our side, the side that is clearly winning. Why didn't you take it as the olive branch that it was?"

"He offered me something better than my freedom."

"So do I," Lucius drawled.

"Oh yeah? What do you offer?" Dolohov sneered.

"Avada Kedavra." A green jet of light hit him in the chest. Ending any chance of redemption that he might have had. Dolohov was a danger, a wild card, a broken man who was obsessed with obtaining Hermione at all costs. There was no way for Dolohov to coexist with them peacefully. This was the only way it could have ended.

Bending down, Lucius picked up the dark wand, smoothing his thumb over the decorative skull on its handle. Studying the unfamiliar wand, he walked back towards his fallen witch and squatted next to her. She was coming back to herself while Abraxas healed her and Lucius extended the handle of the newly acquired wand, holding onto the tip.

Hermione's eyes met his as she reached up to take it.

"Thank you," she murmured, giving the wand a wave to gauge how receptive it would be to her. To her surprise, the wand was responsive and felt as right and comfortable in her hand as her own had. She had no way of knowing whether that was because it had changed allegiance to Lucius Malfoy or because Dolohov had loved her. Either way, she finally had a wand at her disposal.

**HGHG**

Bellatrix landed hard on her knees, her shins taking the brunt of the landing on the bare stone floor.

A clatter of chairs being pushed back filled her ears and she looked up at three figures that towered over her. Her mouth gaped wide as she moved from one face to another.

"Who the fuck are you?" James Potter asked, pointing his wand directly at the Eliza look alike.

"It's not what you think," Bellatrix said knowing that if she told them who she really was, they would kill her on the spot. Using Eliza's identity was obviously out as well, seeing how she was currently staring at the real Eliza. It was starting to make sense, the reason she was unable to summon this woman back from the dead. You couldn't summon a spirit if they weren't dead.

The third and last person she expected to see had his arms wrapped around Eliza's shoulders in a bid for comfort. Bellatrix swallowed nervously, avoiding Regulus Black's penetrating gaze.

"Explain," Regulus said menacingly.

"Don't kill me. I am Bellatrix Lestrange but I am no longer a Death Eater. I swear."

"She could be lying," James muttered, keeping his wand trained on the quaking Bellatrix.

"Probably is," Regulus agreed, pushing the real Eliza behind him. She clutched the back of his shirt with white knuckles. "Why would Bellatrix switch sides and more importantly, why do you look exactly like Eliza? Choose your next words very carefully."

"Take the memory. It would be easier than trying to explain it." Bellatrix pleaded.

James flicked his wand and an empty vial appeared in his open hand. Carefully, as if she was a venomous cobra, he held it out for her to take. Bellatrix moved just as slowly, not wanting the trigger-happy men to strike at her because she moved too fast. Putting the tip of her wand to her temple, she pulled an impossibly long silvery strand of memory. When it was arm's length, it broke off, and she gently filled the vial. Once she capped it, she handed it back to James who left her with Regulus' dangerous glare to observe the contents.

He was gone for what seemed like hours, only coming back after Eliza had served them all tea. Regulus watched closely as Bellatrix sat at the table sipping gratefully at her tea. Regulus was a scary and more handsome version of his father, and no doubt doubly more powerful. What gave her pause was the fact that Regulus seemed awfully protective of Eliza. If anyone could understand why such a powerful wizard wanted to be in one of the Granger women's lives, it would be her. She wouldn't judge him, whatever his motives.

James cleared his throat and everyone turned to look at him. His hair was disheveled to the point where it was criminal. Horror filled his eyes and he avoided looking at Bellatrix at all.

"She is on Hermione's side. Unquestionably." He coughed uncomfortably into his fist, turning away from the three people at the table. Regulus narrowed his suspicious eyes.

"What the hell did that memory show?"

"Did you know the Malfoys have a torture chamber?" James asked him.

"Oh fuck," Regulus said looking sick. "Is Hermione in the chamber? Because I know that no one can come or go from that room without a living Malfoy."

"No. The Malfoys are Hermione's. Bellatrix was in that room and that is the reason that she is like this. She wants to be Hermione's mother."

"But, I'm her mother," Eliza said trembling.

"We didn't know you were alive. I wanted to be forgiven and to give her every ounce of love I was denied."

Eliza looked at James, obviously at a loss for words.

"Where is Hermione now?" James asked, knowing that where she was, his son was also.

"At Hogwarts. The Order has finally trapped Voldemort and with the help of the Malfoys, I think they will win this time."

James turned to Bellatrix and held out his hand.

"Give me that necklace." Despite his menacing glare, Bellatrix clutched the jewel tightly in her fist.

"James, you can't go. It will only distract Harry from what he needs to do." Regulus said firmly.

"I could go," Eliza said tearfully.

"Absolutely not. You aren't a witch. What could you do on a wizard's battlefield?" Regulus asked, fear making his features pinched

"I can go, because Bellatrix, who looks like me, was there. No one would know the difference."

"There is a huge glaring difference. You. Are. Not. A. Witch." Regulus growled. His knuckles where white where they clenched at his sides.

"My daughter is on that battlefield. Do you expect me to just wait here to hear whether she lives or dies?"

"Yes! It's much more likely that you would die even before you saw her. You wouldn't last one minute out there."

"What if I followed her under a disillusionment charm. I would ensure her safety." Bellatrix mumbled.

"Over my dead fucking body!" Regulus yelled he stood, knocking the chair he was sitting on to the floor.

"You can't stop me," Eliza said as she edged her way next to Bellatrix. Surprisingly, Bellatrix reached out her hand, the one holding the ruby, and clasped Eliza's hand.

"You don't have to go," Bellatrix muttered. "I would never let anything happen to Hermione. I love her too."

"Bellatrix will watch out for her," James said, trying to talk Eliza out of going and staring at the conjoined hands. It seemed as if everyone was against Regulus but the stubborn jut of his chin indicated his refusal to back down.

"Regulus, I have to go. I have to. Hermione's out there." Eliza set her chin, having made her decision.

"This is madness, Eliza. Don't go. What do you think you can do for her? There is nothing you can do for Hermione if you go. You need to stay here, where you are safe."

"I can't," Eliza said, "Please," Eliza said and a bright blue light enveloped the two Eliza's ripping them from the kitchen of the safehouse to the entrance of Hogwarts castle. Regulus' panicked scream was lost as they left, using the only means to arrive and leave the safe house, as it was designed all those years ago by Dumbledore. "understand." She finished lamely several hundred kilometers away from where she started.

The stone dust had settled in the time that Bellatrix was away and it was just the two of them alone in the cavernous damaged room. Bellatrix turned toward Eliza and pointed her wand at her. For a moment, fear and regret filled Eliza's face as she tightly closed her eyes against the spell that she believed would end her life.

A sharp rap on her head had her opening her eyes in shock as the feeling of raw egg whites dripped over her body. Raising her hand to brush it away, Eliza froze mid-way, staring at the place where her hand should have been.

"It's better this way," Bellatrix said. "Keep close to me. I will protect us and take you to Hermione but we can't approach her until the end. She can't afford to be distracted. Promise me that you will stay close to me."

"I promise."

Bellatrix pocketed the necklace and waited until she could feel Eliza's fingers curl into her robes. She was euphoric. For the first time, she truly believed that she had earned Hermione's forgiveness. Eliza Granger was alive! Bellatrix smiled at the thought of how Hermione would react to seeing her mother. Finally, they moved outside, toward the sounds of the continuing battle.

**HGHG**

Sigurd paused in front of an open doorway. Not many things surprised the battle-worn Viking, but what he saw inside gave him pause. Narcissa stood over a brutalized body, male from the size of him. Each flick of her wand was delicate, exacting spells designed for revenge and if his body was anything to go by, they had been at this for quite some time. Almost from the beginning in his estimation.

"Narcissa?" he murmured soothingly. She looked up at him calmly, not an ounce of fury in her countenance. The cold detachment that he saw would have terrified even the most experienced of mercenaries, probably more so. Everyone who battled knew that the cold calculation of a killer was way more frightening than a fury induced battle. Fury equated to a quick death. The death promised in the eyes of such as Narcissa promised something much longer, much more painful, and by the end, it was unlikely any pride or resistance would remain.

This type of revenge was often brought through years and years of abuse. This was the retribution she felt she deserved, that was owed to her. She had done her suffering and now it was his turn. Like for like. It was likely that she had done nothing more to him that he had done to her. That was the kind of retribution these types sought. An eye for an eye. But Sigurd also knew that when it was over, there would be nothing left for her. This was not gratifying, it only destroyed the soul.

"Sigurd," she said dispassionately, her eyes empty, calculating only the next place on the man's body she would light into next.

"I thought you were staying behind at the Manor,"

"Did you truly think that I would stay behind all alone to wait while everyone who means something to me fought for their lives? No. I only told them what they wanted to hear so that I would be free to slip in behind them unnoticed."

"Come with me, help me find him and we will end him together."

Narcissa smiled, deliberating. She nodded slowly.

"It wouldn't be right to kill Rosier. Without help, he will die in agony, nice and slow. How fitting. It was exactly how he left me many times over the last two years."

"But you are alive."

"Not because he ensured it. I promise you that. If Severus hadn't been so attentive, I would have died hours before I was found on multiple occasions." Turning, Narcissa kneeled next to Rosier's battered head and leaned in close. "I won't even ward the door. Hope will make your death all the sweeter."

Sigurd held his hand out and waited with baited breath until she took it.

"You kill your enemies and you revel in it, what makes this so different?" Narcissa asked, avoiding his disapproving stare.

"I kill them because we are in a war. I don't draw it out, I don't fuck with their minds. I deliver a quick death during battle, an honorable way to die. There is no honor in that," He gestured back to the room they just vacated.

"You believe I would have been vindicated by meeting him in battle and giving him a swift death? He doesn't deserve that."

"Perhaps not, but you do. You deserve to kill him with dignity, to show the world that he didn't steal anything from you. That you could rise above them whenever you pleased. This is why honor in battle is so important. It's not for your enemies. It's for yourself so that you can live with what you have done when the war is won."

Sigurd left a speechless Narcissa to follow behind once she composed herself and followed the now stronger trail that led out of the main doors of the castle and onto the grounds. Torn between finding Hermione and entering battle at her side or continuing the hunt for Voldemort, he paused. He could see her from the entrance, braids whipping around her face as she moved as if she had been in battles her entire life. Agility and grace flowed from her, something that could only be gotten with experience. Her opponents fell under her wand, a waterfall of bodies.

Hermione didn't need his sword at her side. She needed the war to end and the only way they would achieve that was to cut off the head of the movement. If he joined the battle now, all the finely made plans that he and Abraxas put into place would become moot. There was no telling what the outcome would be then.

Turning away from the ongoing battle, he led Narcissa around the side of the castle to the only place left that Voldemort could be hiding. The greenhouses.

They approached the greenhouses slowly, peeking in through the semi-opaque windows. They easily ruled out the first two as there was little in the way of hiding spots in the seedlings. Greenhouse three was a different story altogether.

The Venomous Tentacula had grown wild over the last few years and it seemed to be out for blood. The second they crossed the threshold of Greenhouse three, the plant had wrapped their legs and ankles in its inflexible grip.

"Damn," Sigurd muttered. If the Tentacula was so desperate for prey that it grabbed them the moment they entered, it was unlikely that Voldemort was inside. Sigurd hissed in displeasure as the vine bit him.

"Severus has the antidote. As long as we take it within the hour we will be fine." Narcissa said as she severed the vines creeping up her thighs.

With a loud rasp, Sigurd drew his sword. The meager light reflected off the blade adding to its natural magical glow. After the first couple of slashes, the Venomous Tentacula withdrew its tentacles quivering with fear.

"He's not here," Narcissa said unnecessarily and Sigurd growled in frustration. There were several more greenhouses to search before they could leave them. The Venomous Tentacula quivered in fear, drawing its wines back into itself for protection.

Sigurd and Narcissa walked out of the Greenhouse with more urgency than before, going from one dangerous building to the next.

"He's not here," Sigurd said mildly, as if unsurprised that his vision had let him down. Once again he reached out to find the magical trail of apparation.

"I'm not crazy, the trail ends here. Either Voldemort had already come and gone or I am missing something. I need Abraxas, Draco, or Lucius." Sigurd grumbled.

"I'll send a Patronus." Narcissa offered.

"No, they are in the middle of battle. A Patronus will only detract from their concentration. One of us needs to go."

"I'll go,"

Sigurd nodded and silently watched Narcissa leave.

Lying was not something that he made a habit out of. Mostly because lies were subjective to him. Sigurd had seen important things happen in a thousand different ways and therefore, lies were only visions that never came to pass.

Perhaps that was why he didn't feel an ounce of guilt for sending Narcissa off when he knew very well where Voldemort was. It was important that Narcissa not be at the final confrontation but it was equally important that one of his descendants was.

"It's very clever the way you chase me," Voldemort said as he walked into the light, caressing the large leaves as he passed, ignoring how they recoiled from his touch.

"You are an abomination. It is the duty of everyone to ensure your demise."

Voldemort chuckled, enjoying the way that the large Viking kept regripping the hilt of his sword. "You mean to bring the fight here? To the greenhouses?"

Sigurd and Voldemort circled each other, both tense with anticipation. Like lightning, Voldemort struck, sending a volley of spells at Sigurd. Lifting his sword, he deflected them, sending them haphazardly around the room. Pots broke, scattering terracotta on the floor.

Sigurd's sword glowed more intensely with each spell deflected and he continued to circle his opponent, waiting for an opportune time to strike. Voldemort unamused that Sigurd seemed to be deflecting his spells effortlessly, raised his impenetrable shield. As long as Draco remained out of their fight, he would have no problem defeating the Malfoy in front of him.

Neither moved as the ground quaked beneath them, heralding the arrival of a massive crowd. It was stilted though, and Sigurd knew that it meant that battles were erupting in the process, slowing down the procession. In short order, the greenhouse they were in was surrounded by friends and foes alike, darkening the interior.

Harry Potter walked in, shoulder to shoulder with Draco Malfoy, their wands raised and ready for the fight. Hermione shouldered her way past them, narrowing her eyes and curling her lip. The rest of the Malfoys were behind them, blocking anyone else from getting in.

Voldemort curled his lip and twisted on the balls of his feet, trying to apparate out of there, knowing that he couldn't possibly win under such circumstances. But when nothing happened, Sigurd chuckled and Voldemort understood fear for the first time that day.

"You knew I would be here. You did this," Voldemort hissed, ignoring Abraxas who chuckled darkly from the doorway.

"I will admit that I highly suspected this to be where it will all end. I am not omnipotent though. I've been seeing you in my visions just as often as Hermione and her friends. I've had a thousand years to dream and study you. There is no one alive that knows you the way I know you, except maybe Harry Potter."

"You think you are going to be the one to kill me? When all the prophecies say it will be Potter?"

"Prophecies are what you make of them but I doubt you would understand the subtle complexities of the art."

Voldemort bared his teeth in aggression, cornered like an animal and no less dangerous.

**HGHG**

Hermione began casting the moment she stepped into the greenhouse, circling the entrance to stand beside Sigurd. Despite the quickness of her casting, Draco was faster. His spell landed on Voldemort's shield, turning it black where it hit and watched as the shield disintegrated in front of their eyes. The necrotic spell forced Voldemort into desperately trying to erect another. But, Hermione was already in motion.

"Stupify," she muttered and watched as he danced out of the way, casting his own spell and flinging it at her in return, completely forsaking the idea of raising another shield.

"Expulso," he flung back and watched as the plants behind Hermione exploded.

There was a disturbance by the door by Hermione dared not look and continued flinging hexes and curses at Voldemort.

Hermione whipped her wand back around smirking as she cornered him, having finally landed several curses on him. He was desperately trying to ward her off, casting offensive and defensive spells as fast as he could.

"Incarcerous," Hermione said but she took a step back in shock when a familiar blond girl took the spell for Voldemort.

With the extra time and Hermione's shock at seeing Luna Lovegood take a spell for Voldemort allowed the man himself to land a spell on Hermione, except, Luna wasn't the only one ready to take a hit.

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort curled his lips with victory. If he couldn't have her magic, if he was to die, he would bring Hermione with him. Destroying his greatest foes along with her. And when he came back, he would be all the closer to gaining invincibility.

Hermione stared down at the woman at her feet in horror. Bellatrix had taken the killing curse for her, crumpling at Hermione's feet, dead.

"No," Hermione said in denial. Leaning down, she swept the long curly hair out of the face that was rapidly changing. The dark spells seeped out of Bellatrix, leaving a miasma around her body, as she changed back into the woman she was born. Black hair shot through with grey, a lithe if a slightly undernourished body, and wide glassy brown eyes. Eyes that wept with loss and a deep sadness that was unquenchable.

The disillusion that kept Eliza invisible wore off and she gasped at being thus exposed. Her eyes were pinned to the identical woman who laid unmoving on the floor. Abraxas was the first person to make a move, shielding the real Eliza behind his own body. The glass around the greenhouse shattered as Voldemort's Death Eaters converged in the space. Abraxas pushed Eliza under one of the tables and stood in front of her, trying to protect her the best he could.

Chaos erupted as everyone was once again battling.

"No," Hermione screamed, completely enraged. She was on her feet in moments flinging more and more impressive spells at Voldemort who was desperately trying to retreat.

Hermione stepped over the bound Luna, ignoring the betrayal for the moment, knowing that if she didn't finish this with Voldemort now, it would never end.

She chased him out of the greenhouse and took a leaf out of Abraxas' book, flinging severing charms at the back of his legs. She screamed with vindication when one of the spells landed on the back of his knee, forcing him to fall onto the ground. He was bruised and battered and unable to get up or disapparate.

"You could have been great, you know," Hermione said mockingly, twirling her new wand in between her fingers. "You could have ruled the entire wizarding world without shedding a single drop of blood. You had the charisma, the looks, the drive, but there was something spoiled in you. Something necrotic that ate away at that potential. You were so young when you cemented your ending. Sixteen years old when you created your first Horcrux."

Voldemort's eyes widened and uncontrollable fear flooded his face.

"Yes," she whispered seductively. "I know about all of your little schemes to make yourself invincible. Harry, Ron, and I took care of them for you, don't worry. You even helped us and I don't even think you realized that day you tried to kill Harry and again it didn't take. You killed your own Horcrux. What a team player,"

"No," Voldemort whispered as he struggled to regain his footing but was once again held in place under Hermione's wand.

"Yes," Hermione murmured. She raised her wand, intending to deliver the final blow but Voldemort was tackled from the side.

Eliza, having escaped Abraxas' care and the warring soldiers, plunged a special dagger up under Voldemort's ribs, slipping it easily between the bones that would stop the piercing of his heart. Savagely she twisted the knife, grunting at the effort it took. Piercing the heart was not enough, because of the suction, the heart would close holding the wound together for a short period of time. Time, that help could be found. The arteries needed to be mutilated and Eliza twisted the heavy blade until she scraped the bones that the knife sunk between.

Voldemort gargled and coughed, blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth. His hands scrabbled against Eliza's face leaving ling thin bloody streaks. Hermione helped to subdue the dying man,

"Petrificus totalus," She whispered, freezing Voldemort in his death throes before turning her gaze to her mother in bewilderment. "How is this possible?"

As the last breath left Voldemort's lungs, Eliza stood, leaving the dagger buried to the hilt.

"Bellatrix arrived at the safe house and I talked her into bringing me back with her. I couldn't stand waiting for you uncertain if you would even be able to."

"The safe house? You were at the safe house?! I had that pendant for days and I didn't even go to see who would be there. Is daddy there too?"

"No, honey. Your dad died that night that Dumbledore tried to move us. Your father was a courageous man who died so that I could live. He is the only reason I made it out that night and to Dumbledore's meeting place."

"If not daddy, who else is there?"

"Hermione, are you okay?" Lucius ran toward them, stopping abruptly as he saw Voldemort on the ground, dead, with a knife sticking out of his chest. Tearing his eyes away from the dead body of his former master, he scanned Eliza's bloody hands and Hermione's uncertain gaze. He pulled her into his body, tucking her head under his chin.

"What happened?" He asked Eliza who was giving him a very dangerous stare.

"Who are you," She asked distrustfully.

"Mom, this is Lucius Malfoy,"

"Ah, the father of your school bully. Why are you wrapped around my daughter, sir?"

"A lot has changed since you've been at the safe house. I used a spell to bind the Malfoys to me and brought them back from the dead."

"I don't care! After Richard and I let the Malfoys betroth their heir to you and the way he treated you at school…" She trailed off angrily.

"Now is not the time, but I will explain everything to you. I promise." Lucius muttered resentfully and slightly cowed to Eliza. "Potter is standing watch over the Lovegood girl. She said she will only talk to you, Love." He murmured into her hair.

Hermione drew back and stood on her tiptoes, kissing his surprised mouth, before pulling away completely and taking her mother's arm, forcing her to walk back to the greenhouse where they had fled. Hermione looked back only once and saw Lucius move the body, taking it away from the battlefield.

Hermione kneeled next to Luna, a solitary figure bound in the center of wizards. Bill looked at her with the deepest of betrayals and Harry looked nonplussed.

"Why?" Hermione asked softly. Luna turned to face her, depression and grief staring hollowly out of her eyes.

"They have my son and if they die, I will never find him."

"Your son? I didn't know you had a son."

"Voldemort had this breeding program. They forced pureblood witches from the Order and had his Death Eaters impregnate us."

"It's true," Harry said, backing up her story. "Ginny is pregnant right now. She is at the camp with Teddy."

"Who is the father. Perhaps we can find your son that way."

"My son's name is Bastillion Lestrange. Rabastan's son. They took him from me the moment they could ween him. I haven't seen him in nearly two years. I don't even know if he is okay." Luna burst into tears.

"You should have said! We would have looked for him, done whatever was necessary to get him back."

"Voldemort threatened to have him killed when he released me to give Abraxas a message. If I had done anything other than feeding him information, he would have killed Bast. As a mother, I couldn't allow that."

"You've been spying on us, for him?"

"Yes, but I didn't tell him the important stuff, like what you were planning. I only told him of the relationship between you. Told him more about Sigurd, who he felt was a wildcard. Let him know when Narcissa's potion was complete."

"Oh, Luna,"

"I don't have much time," She said indicating the deep wound on her stomach. "Promise me that you will find my son, make sure he knows how much I love him."

"I will. He will want for nothing, Luna."

"I'm sorry I betrayed you all."

"Luna,"

"It's funny how at the end, things seem so much clearer without the haze of constant panic."

Snape moved forward and levitated Luna, keeping her by his side as he walked back to the castle, and up to the hospital wing.

Now that Voldemort was dead, and the Order members were rounding up his followers that desperately tried to flee from the grounds, Hermione felt like she was cast adrift. For several long minutes, she stared at the puddle of blood that Luna left behind before snapping back to attention, her mother's arm still clamped in her hands.

"Find Rabastan Lestrange. I want him alive." Hermione ordered and Bill gave her a sharp nod before running out of the shattered remains of the greenhouse.

"Who else is at the safe house, Mom?"

"James Potter and Regulus Black."

Harry jumped his eyes wider than saucers.

"My dad is alive?"

Hermione walked over to Bellatrix's body and searched her pockets nearly collapsing with relief as she pulled out the ruby that McGonagall had sent to her. Hermione ran her hands over Bellatrix's peaceful face, smoothing her hair off her face and tugged at her robes, arranging her body, so that she appeared only to be sleeping.

"Draco,"

"Granger?"

"Can you make sure Bellatrix's body gets back to the Manor safely. I want to bury her there."

"Sure. Do you want me to come to the safe house with you?"

"No. I am going with Harry so he can meet his father."

"I'm going too," Sirius said, an unfathomable joy in his eyes. "My brother is alive."

Hermione nodded.

"Where are Abraxas and Sigurd?" She asked looking around and noticing their absence.

Shrugged shoulders were her only answer.