"Harry James Potter," Screeched Molly Weasley, "I will not allow you to do this!" The Weasley Matriarch was beyond unhappy; she could not stand to lose another child, even if Harry was not hers, she still treated him like a son. Molly had just lost her son, Fred, to the darkness and she would be damned if she was going to let Harry turn himself over. Other remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix yelled their agreement, they had moved out of the Great Hall away from the dead and into the Entrance Hall.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry apologised, his left hand was balled into a fist at his side and in his right he held Malfoy's wand. Flanking him were Hermione and Ron, both had their wands out as well, just in case the announcement got out of hand and someone tried to stop the plan from going ahead. Harry knew this was hard for them, that they probably wanted to hit him on the head and knock him out for several hours while they made a get away from this mess, however, they were loyal friends and would stand by any decision he made.
"You can't seriously be considering this madness!" Ginny Weasley shouted out, angrily. How could Harry do this to her, to them? "You should continue to fight...we all should." Ginny's red hair was flaring around her shoulders, "We can't let them win! Do you know what kind of world you will be damning us too? Don't you care?"
Harry remained silent for a moment, he knew she would be furious and he supposed she had a right to be. But for her to go so far as to say he didn't care...He did care and that was the thing, Harry knew that continuing the good fight would only bring more death and he didn't want anyone else to die fighting for him. If only they knew the true reason for his surrender...Harry had opted not to tell the Order or the rest of Dumbledore's Army about him being a potential horcrux. Just having Hermione and Ron know the truth was disconcerting, he had no way of knowing how they felt about that information and he did not want to know either.
"I do care about what happens to this world," Harry began, looking into Ginny's brown eyes; they used to be bright and hold him captivated, but not anymore. He knew what he had to do; it probably was not the best for the Wizarding World as a whole. Nevertheless, he would not be held responsible for Wizarding society; they had called him a saviour, a liar, an attention seeker and then reverted to saviour on a dime. "However my decision has been made, no one else needs to die if I can prevent it from happening." Harry paused for a quick breath as his lightning scar gave a tingle; the Dark Lord had felt his own frustration and had taken notice. "I am going to send for him with my patronus and let him know I will be surrendering if he comes to the castle." Ginny glared up at him, before letting out a huff and storming off to Merlin knows where.
"No one can interfere," Harry spoke to the others gathered; Mrs Weasley crossed her arms, frowning while Mr. Weasley tried to comfort George who was barely listening through his grief. The other Order members began muttering to each other and slowly drifted back into the Great Hall to tend to the injured and dying.
"Do you really have to do this, Harry?" Came a voice from the back of Dumbledore's Army, it belonged to Neville Longbottom and he was making his way to the front. His woollen jumper was torn in two places and his hair was dishevelled. Neville sported a split lip and a limp, but his resolve was still steady, but if Harry were really going to go through with this, then he would give Harry his support.
"Yes, Nev...I am." Harry replied with conviction, sounding braver than he felt.
"Alright Harry," Neville nodded his head and turned towards the rest of the D.A., "You heard him, this is how it's going to be, no use complaining now. You know how stubborn Harry can get; when he's determined to do something he does it." Neville finished, motioning with his hands to the D.A. to give Harry some space. Neville could be heard asking Luna to go find Ginny and make sure she did nothing stupid, as Harry turned to Hermione and Ron.
"Ron, you should be with your family," Harry said, before looking at his ginger haired friend.
"No!" Ron stated vehemently, "You are a part of my family; I'm going with you." Harry gulped, a lump starting to form in his throat and turned to Hermione in a silent question.
"I'm coming with you too," Hermione, answered his gaze unwavering in her loyalty, "We both are going with until he takes you." Harry nodded silently; he would never be able to thank them enough for their undying friendship.
"So...Where are you going to meet him?" Ron asked his hands were starting to sweat as he felt an intense mixture of anxiety and fear. Coming face to face with the Dark Lord was not a high priority of his; he would actually prefer to be baking on some remote beach far, far away.
"I was thinking the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom," Harry replied tiredly, blinking in surprise when a small-strangled laugh bubbled its way out.
"What's so funny about the DADA classroom?" Hermione questioned warily, giving Harry a sideways glance as they started to walk in the direction of the defence classroom.
"I just had the thought," Harry replied, "That's its like giving a huge fuck you, because it's the defence against the dark arts and that's what we have been doing all along, defending ourselves from the dark arts. That it was Voldemort's favourite subject when he was at school, plus he applied for the position of defence professor like twice in the past when he was younger."
"Oh yeah," Ron responded numbly, he was beginning to feel a little sick. They reached the Defence classroom and went inside.
"Okay, I know you wanted to stay with me," Harry stated, holding up both his hands to halt their protests, "After I have gotten his attention and he is on his way, you need to go back down to the others before he gets here."
"Why?" Ron frowned, crossing his arms.
"Because if he arrives murderous..." Harry trailed off and looked at the floor, "I just don't want you to get hurt, just for being here."
"We are probably going to get hurt anyway," Hermione responded, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. "The Order, they are not going to go down quietly, not without a fight."
Harry sighed and turned his head upward to stare up at the classroom ceiling. He supposed there was nothing he could really do about that. He knew that once he had surrendered that the Death Eaters would be sent for, he knew without a doubt. He could always try to barter for their lives, try to get Voldemort to spare them. However, if the Order aimed to kill, so would the Death Eaters and he already felt sorry for the foolish, brave idiots that would try. Shaking himself from his despairing thoughts, Harry nodded at both Hermione and Ron, it was time.
Harry steeled his nerves and concentrated on his happiest memories; the first time he won a Quidditch match, winning the house cup, freeing Sirius, flying an enchanted car and the thought of all his friends in Dumbledore's Army and he yelled, "Expecto Patronum!" The huge silvery translucent form of the stag bounded from the wand he held and around the room, coming to a stop in front of him, bowing its mighty head. Harry wet his lips with his tongue, anxiety creeping up his spine, the hairs rising on his arms and the chill almost swallowing him threatened to extinguish the light from his patronus. He pushed it down, locking the sensation away to deal with later. He had to focus.
In the Forbidden Forest, many dark and dangerous creatures roamed. However, none would approach the witches and wizards gathered there. Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters occupied a clearing, surrounded by thick trees; some were recognisable as Beech, Oak, Pine and Yew. They gathered around a large, roaring fire, keeping the cold of night at bay.
"He will come," Lord Voldemort spoke aloud mostly to himself, he believed the boy would come. There was fifteen minutes left of the ceasefire, he could hear his own words echoing inside his mind, "I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour; you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences."
The Dark Lord turned his serpentine self to gaze into the fire when it happened, a sudden collective intake of breath, coming from those around him. It must have meant only one thing...the boy was here. Murmuring broke out, some of the Death Eaters were confused and some excited. Lord Voldemort turned to face what could only be Potter. However, it was not. Stood before them was a glowing spectacle, a huge ghost-like stag. Large antlers crowned its magnificent head, the stag patronus made a show of pawing at the ground majestically, like only a prince of the forest could.
"Ha ha! Itty bitty baby Potter wishes for the battle to continue!" Bellatrix Lestrange crowed, a dark delighted smile gracing her face. It was almost as if she was getting what she wished for, she wanted the fighting to start again, so she could shed more blood. Voldemort would have agreed with her, however, the fact remained, Potter's Patronus was standing in front of them, and it was watching him. He did not know what to think, what did the boy think he was playing at? Was this a ruse, to keep them distracted? Was it a trap? No, the Dark Lord thought critically. Potter had something to convey, but he would not do so in person. However, the question was why.
Gazing intently at the Dark Lord, the stag took a step forward and then it spoke in Harry Potter's voice. "Lord Voldemort, I have come to offer my surrender." Lord Voldemort almost exhaled, but he stilled his entire being, he would not show any emotion apart from anger in front of his followers. The Death Eaters started murmur, their voices getting louder. They quietened down when the Patronus spoke again.
"Come to the castle and meet me in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom where I will surrender, but before you do, make sure the Death Eaters stay in the forest or the deal is off." Harry Potter's voice lingered...Voldemort felt murderous, he wanted to rip the hair out of the boy's insolent head and then kill him. He was going to do that either way; he would make an example out of him, to show others that disrespecting the Dark Lord would get you killed.
"I will tell you why," The stag continued, unafraid of Lord Voldemort's ire. "On the way to the castle, after all this is between you and me."
That part made Voldemort pause briefly,' what was between them?' he thought curious. The glowing stag turned away from them and started a slow walk towards the way out of the forest. "Potter plans to surrender if you all stay in the forest," Lord Voldemort's voice boomed out over the mutterings of his followers. "Once he has given himself up and I have him in my grasp, I will call for you to take the castle." The Death Eaters bowed before their Lord, in acceptance.
Lord Voldemort than made to catch up with the stag, however, it had stopped and was waiting for him. He felt as if the Potter boy was somehow watching him through its eyes, that seemed impossible, but it was Potter after all and he seemed to always get into impossible situations and then get out of them. Lord Voldemort and the stag patronus had reached the edge of the forest and he could see the castle more clearly, the sun was just over the horizon. The night had been long, but morning never waited for anyone. The patronus paused then and turned its gaze back to him.
"I said I would tell you why I plan on surrendering," Potter's voice spoke up again, "It has to do with your soul...Just recently, after you ordered Nagini to kill Snape. Well after you left the Shrieking Shack, I came out from my hiding spot and as he was dying, he told me to collect his memories." The stag paused, cocking its head. Voldemort did not know what to feel at that moment, Potter had been in the shack with them, how had he not noticed? Confusion bleeding into his body and it was starting to mix with fury at the thought that any of this had to with his own soul. He was aware the boy had been hunting his horcruxes and he would pay dearly for that. The patronus began walking up towards the castle again and the Dark Lord walked beside it.
"After you announced the ceasefire," The stag continued, "I went and viewed the memories and there was one. It suggested something, which I have suspected for a while now. Have you never wondered why we have the connection that we do? How we can see into each other's minds or feel each other's emotions? How I can tell when you are close or how I could feel how close, your horcruxes were to me or, how I can speak Parseltongue? The memory suggested the impossible, if you want to view it before you come to find me you can, I left it in the pensieve in the Headmaster's office."
Lord Voldemort halted all movement in trepidation, fear and uneasiness settling in his gut. What the boy was implying here, simply could not be possible...He had simply put all these things down to magic transference when he had tried to kill the boy as a baby. However, being ejected from your own body should not have hurt as it had; he always put it down to some of his magic being siphoned into the toddler. Now, that made little sense, the dread growing inside him was impossible to ignore. He felt it then, Potter's own emotion in response to his own fear, the boy felt anxious.
Before going to confront the boy, he would be damned if he did not watch that memory first. He entered the castle and found the remaining members of the Order blocking his way, he gave them a nasty look and they backed off, it was obvious to him, that they knew why he was there. After that, he made it to the Headmaster's Office, viewed said memory and promptly blew that office and everything in it up. The Dark Lord's magic ripped though the Headmaster's desk, splitting it in two and knocked the talking portraits of headmasters past off the walls until the space could not be distinguished as having been an office at all. Lord Voldemort let out a heavy breath and went to find the boy, at which point the stag patronus vanished, having completed its mission.
In the Defence classroom, Harry and his friends felt the castle shudder and they looked at each other in worry. Harry eyed both Hermione and Ron and told them, "You need to go now...He's mad as, he will strike you down where you stand," he gave them one last look, "Go!" He urged them out of the classroom. As they fled, running through the castle. Harry took a deep breath and waited, he could feel the Dark Lord's approach, the pounding in his scar getting more painful as Voldemort got closer.