Fleur wasn't sure she'd ever heard a sound more terrible than Molly Weasley's scream after George and Percy carried Fred's body into the Great Hall to lie with the other dead.

She and Bill had been trailing just behind his brothers, and she'd quickly spotted the other Weasleys—Molly, Arthur, Ginny—all standing within the vast, chaotic room clearly searching for family and answers. For the briefest of moments, Fleur had caught Molly looking relieved at the sight of her sons entering together. That was before the realization of what was happening—who they were carrying and why—seemed to resonate. Her expression, all of their expressions, changed in an instant.

Ginny broke down into her father's arms, bawling. Arthur looked as if someone had just beat him over the head with a blunt object and forced his knees to buckle, though he managed to support himself—likely more for Ginny's sake than his own.

Molly looked as if she was momentarily having an out of body experience—denial and doubt etched deeply into her expression; her head shaking back and forth as if she refused to accept what she was seeing. She'd pushed her way over to where Percy and George were now laying Fred on the floor, and she immediately collapsed to her knees beside him, inspecting his face before putting her ear to his chest.

When she'd picked her head up, that had been when she'd screamed. It was agonizing and Fleur felt it in her core. She watched as Molly threw herself across Fred's body, sobbing loudly.

There was nothing anyone could do.

Fleur felt her chest heave, but she didn't have any more tears to give. She'd lost most of them all upon finding Fred's body. The few she'd had left had forced themselves out when she'd seen George discover his twin.

He'd somehow known Fred was dead before she, Angelina, and Katie had found him, even though he was desperately still searching the corridors for his brother. How he knew, Fleur couldn't be sure, but he'd taken one look at them as they approached, the castle walls crumbling around them, and said. "Fred's dead. I'm sure of it. I could feel it."

Fleur had closed her eyes, not wanting George to see her cry. She almost didn't feel she had a right to be more visibly upset than he was. Katie had turned away to hide her face, but Angelina couldn't contain it. George's presence seemed to have made things worse for her and she began to cry at the sight of him.

"I'm so sorry, George," she said between sobs, moving forward to hug him.

George let himself be hugged, but didn't return it. He wasn't reacting at all. He didn't move. He only looked straight ahead into nothing. He was somehow devoid of any and all emotion. It was as if he'd shut down entirely.

Fleur cleared her throat. "His body seems protected for now—"

"You saw his body?" George said, gently pulling Angelia's arms off of him and moving toward Fleur with a purpose. "You saw him? Where is he?"

Fleur stared at him, having assumed he too had already seen it. How else did he know?

"I do not…" she began to say, having no idea how to get around the castle.

"It's by the large mirror on the seventh-floor corridor," Katie said. "Not far from the Room of Requirement's entrance. There's an alcove by a fallen wall—"

George didn't wait around for the rest of what she had to say, he'd taken off running to go upstairs. Fleur and the others followed, trying to keep up.

As George made it to the next floor, a pair of Death Eaters appeared from an opposite corridor, blasting spells at him that managed to dodge, but didn't bother responding. He seemed to not care to fight back or protect himself; he just continued to run.

Fleur raised her wand and quickly stunned the first Death Eater that was closest; the second falling back and out of her line of sight—seemingly ready to give George chase. She and Katie had taken up the stairs after them, Angelina coming up behind them, and Fleur proceeded to shoot spell after spell at the one tracking George. She'd hoped to give him enough time to escape.

It hadn't taken much effort to take the slow one down. Come to think of it, none of the Death Eaters she'd encountered that evening were particularly formidable opponents. Were all the skilled ones down on the ground? Had they sent their laziest ones up into the castle?

"Good shot," Katie said to her, sounding impressed as the group of them now found themselves back to the spot they'd just left earlier—the niche where Fred's body lay.

It was there that George now stood, gazing down upon his brother.

She could not even imagine what he was thinking. She had to look away.

"I'll keep a lookout," Angelina said slowly, and when Fleur looked over at her, she saw she didn't seem to want to come any closer than she already was. It seemed she couldn't confront the scene or the body again, and she was quickly moving back from whence they came.

George had knelt down beside Fred, reaching out to touch him. Fleur couldn't bring herself to watch what was clearly a terribly intimate moment and instead looked at Katie. Katie looked back at her, neither sure of what to do or say.

"What happened?" George asked.

"We don't know," said Katie. "We found him like this. It was just him. No one else was around."

George didn't respond, he just continued to stare at his brother. The corridor—even the castle—was oddly quiet then. Fleur felt completely unnerved by it. She almost expected something unimaginable to happen then.

"You…" she could hear George say in a low voice. "How could…?"

She turned to look, trying to establish if perhaps he was speaking to one of them, but he wasn't. He was talking to Fred, whispering something to him now that was likely not meant for anyone else's ears. It was the first time George had shown any emotion since they'd encountered him. His face was now screwed up in both pain and anger.

"You didn't even—!" he suddenly shouted, though the rest of what he said was indistinguishable. He'd slumped into a sitting position and pulled his knees up to chest. He put his head between them.

Katie sniffled a bit and reached up to wipe her eyes. Fleur thought about approaching George, saying something, but that was before Angelina suddenly shouted, "We've got incoming! A pair of them!"

Katie and Fleur both looked over at George, who didn't budge. He didn't move a muscle; he let his head continue to sit between his knees. He didn't seem to care at all that Death Eaters were upon them.

"I will go this way," Fleur told Katie, indicating the direction Angelina was in. "You take the other end of the corridor and see if more will come from that direction." She looked back at George, knowing now that he had no plans to leave. "We need to make sure they do not reach this point."

Katie nodded, the pair splitting up and George continuing to remain motionless. Fleur met Angelina, where she was currently staving off two Death Eaters from entering the corridor, and Fleur took aim and managed to blast them both with a spell powerful enough that it knocked them back down the stairs.

When she approached to see if they were planning to come back up, she saw them both lying in a crumpled heap at the next landing.

"That was effective," Angelina said, brushing herself off. "But likely not the last we've seen." She turned to look back down the corridor, though nothing was visible where they stood. "Is he…?"

"He is just sitting beside Fred's body."

Angelina inhaled sharply, looking as if she were trying not to get emotional. Not that she had much time to let her emotions take over, seeing as the onslaught of Death Eaters refused to relent from that point forward.

It was as if they were specifically seeking something—and Fleur was even willing to bet that whatever it was, it was in the direction of the corridor George was currently grieving Fred. It was the way they kept coming up the stairs directly toward them, even using tunnels into the school to come from neighboring corridors, but always directly headed toward the one they were now standing guard of.

Because that was what she, Angelina, and Katie were now doing. Splitting up to guard both entrances to the corridor; lying in wait for the next intruder. She wasn't entirely sure why no one else from their side seemed to have realized the Death Eaters had business up here, but she had to assume that things were so bad on the ground, that was where their efforts needed to be focused.

"The Dark Lord said the seventh-floor must be protected at all costs!" one had called out, right before Fleur had jumped out from her hiding spot to stun him. She'd missed, and he'd shot out a Fire Spell that raged powerfully—he could hear him laughing as he cast it—but he'd found the wrong person to test that spell on because, while being blasted, she was able to withstand it long enough in order to shoot off a spell of her own.

The Death Eater was knocked off his feet; his partner now looked on in shock as if that shouldn't have happened. Her standing there glaring at him, her hair and parts of her clothes on fire, probably added to the shock.

A spell from behind her blasted the shocked Death Eater theb, and Fleur could see Angelina appearing from the shadows, knowing she'd been the one to cast it. She also looked terribly panicked because she'd rushed up to her and said, "You're on fire!"

"It happens," she said, patting her hair down to extinguish the flame while Angelina used her wand to douse her with water. The fire was gone after about fifteen seconds, though Fleur was sure her hair was going to be singed.

"I am fine," Fleur told Angelina reassuringly, her still panicking and confused. "I will be fine."

She looked back down to the stairs where the Death Eaters had fallen. "They keep coming up for something. To protect the seventh-floor, one said."

Angelina nodded, calming down slowly. "Yeah, but what are they looking for?"

Fleur had no idea. It seemed everyone was looking for something. She was looking for Bill, Harry was looking for his diadem, the Death Eaters were looking for…who knew? All she did know was that she was going to keep them from getting down that corridor to find it. Whatever it was, it was important enough for Voldemort to want to protect.

Angelina went to join Katie on the other end of the corridor to check in with her while Fleur stayed put by the stairs. She'd hidden a bit to gain the surprise on anyone coming up, when the sound of footsteps coming up once more indicated that there was another attack upon them. Thankfully, with the higher ground, she had the advantage. She had become used to picking off the morons who insisted on trying to use the stairs.

She crouched low, waiting for her next unsuspecting victim, when the sight of Percy running up as fast as he could caught her eye. He had his wand out and was ready to fight, but his attention was entirely focused elsewhere.

"Percy," Fleur called out, not lowering her wand as he approached.

"Oh, Fleur, hello," he said, the side of his head bleeding and his glasses askew on his face, though he fixed them as he stood there. "Good to see you're alright. Did you ever find Bill? He was looking for you."

She shook her head, watching as Percy passed her to go toward where he would inevitably find George and Fred. She immediately now dreaded having to tell Percy the news so that he wouldn't go down there unaware.

"Percy, wait—"

"You have fought valiantly…" came the sudden and startling voice of Voldemort, again broadcasting his message across the castle as if he was drilling straight into her brain. She officially hated nothing more than this—this feeling of him inside her skull.

He spoke of calling off his troops for the next hour; of not wanting to spill more magical blood. He was willing to allow them to treat their injured and dispose of their dead; this didn't have to keep happening if Harry merely gave himself up. If he didn't, Voldemort made it clear that he, himself, was going to join the battle. He promised all of them that they would die if it came to that.

They had one hour.

"Is he serious?" came Katie, appearing from the corridor and glancing at the sight of Percy before looking back at Fleur. "It's just going to…stop? Just like that?"

"For an hour," Fleur said, reaching up to rub her face.

"Enough time to dispose of our dead…" Percy said in a faraway tone, his eyes down the corridor that Katie had just come from. There was something particular about the way he'd said that last bit, as if he was being purposeful with his comment. Fleur sensed then that he too already somehow knew about Fred.

"George is down there with him," she said quietly, approaching this as delicately as she could; waiting to see his reaction. Perhaps he didn't know? Perhaps he'd have questions about what she'd just said?

Percy's expression, however, didn't change. He very quietly responded, "He found him?"

He knew. She nodded.

"And?"

Fleur shrugged, gesturing for him to go and see for himself. There were no words she could use to describe what was happening down there. He would need to see it with his own eyes.

That was exactly what he chose to do—go and see for himself. Fleur and Katie remained where they were to give him and his brothers a moment together.

Not even a minute later, almost as soon as Percy had disappeared around the corner, Angelina appeared to join them where they stood. She had quickly said, "I wanted to give them privacy."

They hadn't taken very long, for Percy reappeared not long after he'd disappeared—just a few minutes. Only this time George was with him; both of them carrying Fred's body between them. Percy at the front and George at the back.

"We want to take him downstairs," Percy said; George refused to even look at anyone else. "He shouldn't be up here on his own." He looked back at George. "And George refuses to leave him here alone."

Fleur and the others nodded, with Katie offering, "We could use a levitation spell to get him down—"

"No!" George snapped, though immediately after he lowered his voice. "I want to carry him."

Katie looked as if she felt she'd said something wrong and slunk back a bit. Percy said more politely, "We would like to carry him."

And so they did, down seven flights of stairs as Fleur and the others led the way. She'd been hoping to clear a path and keep an eye out for anyone who didn't take Voldemort's request for a cease fire seriously, just as a precautionary measure, but it thankfully hadn't come to that.

Once they made it all the way down and reached the ground floor, that was when she noticed just how many other casualties there were to account for. Carnage appeared to be everywhere; people were crying and injured. Some were clinging to life.

But it was also where she found Bill, bloody and dirty, but alive and as perfect as ever. She hugged him tighter than she ever allowed herself to do in the past, also allowing herself thirty blissful seconds of happiness at having him back in her arms before she knew the real world would come crashing back down on them.

Because Percy and George had been right behind her.

Bill's reaction to Fred was especially heartbreaking for her—for all the reasons she expected, but also because she could see he wasn't allowing himself to properly react to the situation. She knew already that he was putting up walls for the sake of his family; wanting to be the emotional support he knew they would inevitably need. He always did this—stepped up to support everyone else while pushing his own feelings to the side.

While she respected how much she cared about his family, she wished he would let himself absorb the moment. She noticed he was physically shaking at one point after seeing Fred up close.

He was holding it in so much, he was shaking.

But there was nothing she could say to him now that would help, not in the moment; not while he was still processing things. All she could do was hold his hand and stand beside him as they watched the rest of his family fall to pieces in the Great Hall.

Arthur had gone to kneel beside his wife and Fred's body, silent tears coming down his face as he reached out and began stroking her hair. George had gone to the opposite side of his parents and just knelt down silently beside Fred's head. Ginny was standing there looking down at her brother, hugging herself and crying.

Bill broke away from Fleur to go and put an arm around his sister. She immediately turned into his chest and continued to cry. He hugged her without a word.

Fleur heard Percy taking deep breaths beside her. A part of her couldn't help but feel like an interloper for even standing here and watching, despite knowing she was family. She reached up to rub her eyes—they were starting to feel raw—before giving the rest of the Great Hall a once over.

Bodies were being carried in and placed on the floor much like Fred had been. She saw Dean helping another boy carry in a girl; another man was carrying a much smaller person, enough that he could bear the body's weight entirely on his own. Some of the dead looked no older than fifteen or sixteen.

Nothing about this was right.

She continued to scan the faces on the ground, not recognizing anyone…

Until she did. Two people, in fact, and the sight of them made her feel numb. It was almost as if her body was turning off her ability to feel because it couldn't take it any longer—it was too much. It couldn't do this anymore. The pain was too great.

Tonks and Remus were lying side by side, paired in death as they had been in life. She hadn't even known Tonks was here—why was she here? She was supposed to be at home with Teddy. They both should have been home with him because they were supposed to live in a world where they could be at home with their son, getting ready to be up with him all night for late feedings and nappy changes.

Not being murdered.

But they were here… fighting for a better world for their son to live in. Dying for a better world for their son to live in. Lying on a stone floor side by side, still and cold.

Fleur truly had thought she was cried-out, but the image of a photograph Remus had just shown her a few hours prior—of a sweet little baby face under a tuft of blue hair—managed to push some more tears out of her.

Poor Teddy wouldn't ever even know them. He'd never even…

She let out a sob, immediately reaching up to cover her face. After a minute or so, she felt arms wrapping around her again, knowing straight away that it was Bill. She welcomed his embrace, even if she was feeding straight into his compulsive need to comfort and protect everyone else.

From there on out, everything seemed to stand still; she had no concept of what time even was anymore. At some point Ron and Hermione had turned up. Ron stood back, taking in the sight of Fred with sorrowful eyes and a trembling lip, while Hermione walked over to embrace and comfort Ginny. Percy had stepped forward to put an arm around Ron.

No one spoke more than a few, empty sounding words here and there for quite some time. Ron had peeled away from Percy to walk over to Hermione, who without a word opened her arms to hug him tightly. Fleur watched as he said something to her and she responded; her rubbing his back in a reassuring sort of way, but never letting go.

It was only then when she watched the two of them that it occurred to her that there were only two of them. Harry wasn't with them.

"Where is Harry?" she asked, cutting through the heavy silence and suddenly fearing the worst. Had something happened to him? Had he done what Voldemort asked and surrendered himself in the forest to spare the rest of them?

Ron and Hermione broke apart and both looked at her with shiny eyes. Ginny's gaze went to her as well, and she could feel Bill and Percy turn to her at the same time. She couldn't tell if they were surprised by the question or the sound of someone actually speaking.

"He's here," Ron said, gesturing around the Great Hall. "He's…"

But he stopped when he realized he didn't immediately spot him. He even raised himself up to the highest his height would let him stretch, searching the room now rather urgently.

"He was with us when we walked in," Hermione said, also now looking around. "I assumed he'd come over…" She stepped forward, as if trying to look around people. "Is he not here?"

"I don't see him," Ginny said, also moving to get a better view of the room. "You're sure he was with you?"

"Positive," Hermione said, just as Ron started nodding. "He was right behind us."

She stopped and rounded on Ron, her expression now tense. "You don't think…?"

"No," Ron said, shaking his head. "No. He wouldn't have. He'd have said something to us."

"Would he?" Hermione said, her voice starting to sound panicked.

"Yes…?" Ron said, though he didn't sound confident in that answer at all. "He wouldn't have gone out—" He stared at her. "Would he?"

"Gone out where?" Ginny was asking slowly; she too looked more anxious now. "Not to the forest. You're not saying he went out to the forest, are you?"

"He wouldn't have," Ron repeated. "He'd have said something—"

"You know bloody well he wouldn't have told us because he knows we'd have tried to stop him!" Hermione said to Ron, now heading straight for the exit of the Great Hall with Ron and Ginny following after her.

Fleur looked up at Bill. He didn't say anything, but she could tell by his confused expression that it was now dawning on them what may be happening.

"Ginny!" shouted Arthur, his voice more fearful and strained sounding than Fleur had ever heard it. "Ginny, you cannot go off—!"

"I'll keep after her," Bill said, tugging on Fleur to come along as the pair made their way after the others, jogging to catch up to them in the Entrance Hall. It was there they found them talking to Dean and another girl, both who were helping move the dead.

"I saw him about fifteen minutes ago standing outside the Great Hall," Dean said plainly, speaking to Ron. "Not since, though. Why? What's—?"

"Did anyone see him leave?" Hermione asked, sounding desperate as she looked at the girl standing beside Dean. "Or go outside specifically?"

No one had—not those two, not any of the people who they asked who were working around the entryway.

They pushed themselves through the small crowd, down the front stairs out of the castle, and outside onto the grounds. It was here that Fleur got her first real look at the bodies that were spread across the lawn; the moonlight illuminating a rather horrible view on the otherwise quiet scene.

It really had been so much worse out here…

"Excuse me!" Hermione called out to a pair of passing boys who were helping to carry an injured girl back into the castle. "Have you seen Harry?" She then called out to the rest of the group of helpers who were tending to bodies. "Has anyone seen Harry Potter?"

Heads were shaking; a few people called out, "No."

"No one's seen him," Bill said, trying to instill a sense of calm over a now panicked looking Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. "If he'd gone down to the forest, someone surely would have seen him."

"No, they wouldn't!" Ron yelled out, his tone frustrated. "Because he's got a bloody invisibility cloak and can hide from everyone!"

"Does he, really?" Fleur asked, looking over at Bill as if that was news.

Ron, however, apparently wasn't finished yelling into the night, because he shouted, "Harry, if you can hear me, you better not be doing what I think you're doing! Because if you are, I will kill you!"

"Ron…" said Hermione.

"You stupid prat!" he continued to shout, growing more and more upset with every word, though eventually deflating quite visibly and letting out a defeated cry sound. In his regular voice, he weakly muttered, "He can't. Not without…"

He trailed off into silence, and Hermione walked over and wrapped an arm around him. They both silently stared off at the Forbidden Forest.

Fleur stared as well. She had to believe that Harry wouldn't have walked out there on his own—sacrificing himself for the rest of them. Because his sacrifice would ultimately mean nothing. Yes, Voldemort may "let" them live, but at what cost? What was life when it was under such heinous conditions? Fleur would have rather died here tonight than live in a world in which she was one new law away from being dubbed a second-class citizen; where she had to continue to live in fear everyday.

She only wished Harry could somehow realize that now, more than ever, they weren't fighting for him, they were fighting with him. He did not, and should not, have to do this alone.


There was no proof Harry had gone into the forest, which was all that Bill really could hang his hopes on right now. The fact that the minutes ticked by without another booming Voldemort message letting them know that he had Harry was reassuring. That seemed like something he would have bragged about.

But the silence on Voldemort's end also meant that their hour was slowly dwindling down to minutes. It would soon be up and the battle would commence once again. Who even knew what that meant?

They all passed the time by helping with the dead and wounded—transporting them from the grounds to the Great Hall or applying first aid. They'd found Lee Jordan among the injured, unconscious, but alive. He was brought back around and seemingly alright. He was angry and ready to get right back to the fight; he apparently had some specific Death Eater's number, but his entire attitude changed once he discovered the death of Fred. It was as if someone had popped him like a balloon; he didn't want to believe it.

It had only taken one look at George across the room, still with their mother at Fred's side, for him to realize none of this was a joke.

Bill understood—because they all wanted to believe it was a joke, as if at any moment Fred was going to sit up and tell them all he'd played the most epic prank to date. He'd laugh and they'd be angry, though Bill found himself promising the universe that if that were to happen, he wouldn't be angry with Fred. If he just sat up and claimed it was a joke, he'd forgive him on the spot. He promised.

Arthur had pulled himself away from his son's body; Bill witnessed him conversing with Kingsley and some of the teachers. They were all looking as if they were desperately trying to hash out a plan or some sort of counter move to gain momentum. The unfortunate part was that none of them—based on body language and expressions alone—looked confident in anything that seemed to be being discussed. If Bill had to guess, the plan at the moment was to just keep trying to stay alive.

It also seemed to take a bit for the realization that Harry hadn't been spotted in ages to start spreading around the scene. Though once it did, word traveled fast. It led to immediate questions.

"Where is he?"

"I saw him alive."

"Did he go into the forest?"

"Without saying something?"

"Why would he say something?"

"He wouldn't have…would he?"

"It's been more than an hour," Percy suddenly said at random, just as he and Bill stopped to drink some water for the first time since the break had started. He was looking down at his watch, which Bill could see now had a crack down the face.

"It's been an hour and eight minutes," Percy added.

"Let's take what we can get," Bill muttered, wiping his brow as a feeling of anxiety now swept over him. If they were past an hour, that meant that at any moment, Voldemort would give the signal and the battle would once again start with little to no warning.

He gulped his water faster.

Percy took his wand and cast a spell to fix his broken watch face before turning to Bill. "It's disconcerting that no one's seen Harry."

"He's been seen," Bill said. "He just hasn't been spotted since right after the retreat."

"Do you think he went into the forest?"

Bill shrugged, desperately wanting the answer to be no, but in the pit of his stomach, he sensed it was yes. The fact he had an invisibility cloak and could sneak out there without detection; the idea that an hour had now come and gone, and You-Know-Who had not kicked things up again, or taunted Harry for not turning up. It led him to believe that the opposite was in fact true.

Harry had turned up.

With the knowledge that something was about to occur one way or another given their hour was now over, Bill walked over to where Fleur was helping to heal some of the injured wounds. He wanted to be close to her in case things went south, and only when he really looked at her, he noticed how much blood and ash was in her hair. How it was almost hard to tell she was blond.

He hadn't really noticed until this moment.

"It's been over an hour," he said to her once he approached. "I never took You-Know-Who to not be punctual."

She stood up from the girl she'd been kneeling over, looking at him. "Do you zink zat iz because 'Arry went to ze forest?"

He nodded.

"What does zat mean?" she asked, frowning.

He shrugged. "Best case, Harry somehow takes them all down, walks out victorious, and we all go home. Worst case…"

He didn't have to finish that sentence for Fleur to know what the worst case scenario was.

"I do not see 'ow we can sustain more fighting," Fleur said. "We 'ave lost so many people. We are outnumbered. And if we lose 'Arry…"

"I heard McGonagall say Slughorn went to try and get the word out for reinforcements."

Fleur didn't seem comforted by that piece of information at all. She actually seemed annoyed. "Zen where are zey? What are zey waiting for? Us all to be slaughtered?"

He stared at her, not disagreeing. He didn't have any counter argument to offer and he wasn't about to try. He'd been about to change the subject when the chill inducing, disembodied voice of Voldemort once again rang through the castle walls. It caused Bill to instinctively cover his ears to protect them, though he lowered them slowly. The entire room had stopped what they were doing to pay attention.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

A doubtful murmur boiled up around the room. Fleur and Bill looked at each other, and he could immediately tell she wasn't sure she believed this anymore than he did.

"The battle is won," Voldemort continued. "You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continued to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family."

All around the room, people were exchanging looks with friends and loved-ones. McGonagall stood firm at the front of the Great Hall, her mouth in a hard line, as if saying that wasn't going to happen. People everywhere were pulling out their wands again and taking defensive stances.

"Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, am you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

"Load of bloody tosh, that is," someone shouted, while a quick buzzing carried around the room that clearly agreed with the sentiment. But there was also a palpable panic sweeping over people, especially as the announcement of Harry's demise.

"Harry's dead?" was the question that kept getting repeated over and over again.

"No," Ron was saying to Hermione; Bill could see them not far from where he was standing. "No. He's not dead. He can't be."

"Maybe it's a trap?" called a different girl.

"I don't want to go out there if he's waiting for us."

"You don't think he's going to come in here?"

"Are we going to die?"

"Considering the alternative, I'll take death…"

"Come!" boom Voldemort's voice, breaking up the chatter around the Great Hall. It was clearly not an invitation, but a demand. People began standing at that as if they had no choice but to obey; they were moving toward the doors.

McGonagall and Kingsley rushed to the front of the group, with McGonagall shouting, "It is silly to think we can hide!"

Bill watched Ron, Hermione, and Ginny fight their way through the crowds to pass into the Entrance Hall before most of the others. He felt Fleur take his hand and glanced over at her, seeing that she was resolutely accepting that they were all about to confront this. Whatever "this" might be…

They had barely stepped foot into the Entrance Hall when he heard a terrible, "NO!" screamed from the front of the pack. The sound that "no" made caused people to pick up the pace; Fleur was now practically dragging him through the crowd to get outside.

What they saw when they got there was everything they feared.

Hagrid was standing there as if being held prisoner, the body of Harry lying limp and unmoving in his outwardly extended arms. Hagrid's face was swollen and defeated looking; he was being forced to present Harry for all to see, like Voldemort's trophy prize.

The Death Eaters were all flanked behind him, laughing and jeering. Voldemort was in front of everyone, including Hagrid. He was stroking a large snake that he was wearing around his shoulders and looking very pleased with himself.

"No!" Ron had screamed, followed immediately by Hermione's own, "No!" and Ginny's, "Harry! HARRY!"

Fleur's grip on Bill's hand tightened, her own muffled, "No!" escaping her as they all stared at the sight of Harry Potter dead. An unimaginable, couldn't be real, when-would-this-nightmare-end, sight.

Immediately someone yelled, "Fuck you!" at the crowd to Death Eaters, which quickly prompted more insults and shouting from the restless crowd surrounding her and Fleur to follow; Bill got in on it, yelling and shouting words that barely managed to describe his anger, until—

"SILENCE!" Voldemort said, a bang and a flash of bright light following, forcing them into a silence beyond their control. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs."

Hargid begrudgingly did as he was told. This was disgusting. Not only was Voldemort thrilled to have killed Harry, he now wanted to play with him; humiliate him.

Voldemort gleefully began pacing back and forth around Harry's body, demanding they all look at their fallen hero; reminding them over and over again that Harry was dead. He seemed to relish the fact that he could now declare Harry as nothing more than a worthless child; an insignificant boy who'd demanded everyone's sacrifices but never made his own.

"He beat you!" Ron yelled, which again prompted everyone around him to start shouting and yelling again, the Silencing Spell broken. Someone loudly yelled, "Twat!" and if Bill didn't know any better, he'd have thought it was Fred's voice. The only reason he knew it wasn't George was because George was standing near him. He hadn't spoken.

Another bang and a flash, causing all of their voices to disappear into silence once more. Voldemort was having none of this dissent. He was having nothing but blind acceptance.

He began taunting them by chastising Harry, calling him a coward—saying he was trying to escape the castle grounds and implying they'd put all their faith in a loser. Bill could feel Fleur's nails digging into the skin of his hand; she was turning red with anger. All around him, people—who could not speak—were physically reacting. Shaking, trembling, eye rolls, sneers…

And then, quite unexpectedly and very much out of nowhere, Neville suddenly broke free from their group and began to charge directly at Voldemort as if he'd snapped. Bill and all of the others watched with wide eyes as Neville's plan to…take Voldemort off guard? What was he doing?!

Whatever it was, it was very short-lived because another bang and a flash of light had Neville struck down by an invisible force, slamming him very hard into the ground. The thudding sounding his body made was uncomfortable. People gasped; Death Eaters laughed.

Bill was now deathly afraid he was about to watch the public execution of this young man right in front of his eyes.

Voldemort seemed amused, as if he couldn't believe someone had been so bold as to volunteer themselves to be his new play thing to torture now that Harry was gone. Like a predator sizing up his prey, he approached Neville.

Bill didn't want to watch, but he also couldn't look away. Neville was on the ground under Voldemort's watchful gaze, being questioned about his blood purity; being told why Voldemort needed people like him for the future; being asked to join him.

"We need your kind, Neville Longbottom," Voldemort told him.

Nearby, Bellatrix Lestrange was giggling like a psychotic school girl—as if Christmas had come early for her.

Neville, however—without hesitation and in a moment of bravery that Bill marveled at—immediately snapped back, "I'll join you when hell freezes over." He then turned to the crowd and loudly shouted, "Dumbledore's Army!"

That had lit a fire in people; everyone, Bill and Fleur included, cheered at that—the Silencing Charm once again broken as the echoes of support for Neville continued to grow louder and louder. A fervor was collecting in the crowd. Voldemort could clearly sense it.

It was likely why he swiftly decided to show everyone who they were dealing with in a truly heinous display of power.

In the blink of an eye, he'd cast a Body-Bind Curse on Neville that forced him to be as still as a statue, unable to move. A object that was materialized was then forced on his head. Was it a hat? It looked almost like the Sorting Hat. That didn't make any sense…

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," Voldemort said.

And with a flick of his wand, the Sorting Hat suddenly burst into flames atop Neville's head.