The Battle of Hogwarts is here, folks, and just like canon, there's a lot happening.
Evening of May 1st:
He'd kept her waiting. They hadn't spoken in several weeks, the occasional letter with him reprimanding her for something Snape reported being their only contact. He hadn't seen her since the party. As she fidgeted around the glade trying to appear calm, she wondered if the loose shirt she wore under her Hogwarts robes would be enough to conceal the bump of her abdomen. She resisted the urge to touch it, to marvel at the outward and irrevocable proof that there was actually life inside of her, that this new joyous complication wasn't just a figment of her imagination. A week of actual food without constant potions was a good look on her, and while she was still nauseated and painfully hormonal, she felt calmer without the shadow of starvation hanging over her.
"Sister." Was all the warning she had as he glided into the clearing beside the Shrieking Shack.
"You wanted to see me?" She asked, pretending to be impassive and stooping to investigate an herb growing in the grass.
"Potter is in the school."
She stilled instantly, blinked rapidly at his stunning announcement, "What?"
"Potter is in Hogwarts, as we speak. You pretend you were unaware?" His voice was icy.
Miranda turned to face the shell of her brother. "I'm not in with his circle. No one would have told me something like that."
He shook his head, "I would have thought someone like you would have felt it. Another horcrux so near."
She paused, struck by the realization that there was something new in the air. She hadn't even noticed. In trying to get herself healthy, keeping the obscurus contained, and the flood of hormones and magic from her uterus, she hadn't noticed the new thrum demanding her attention. Now though, she could tell vividly that Harry was inside the walls she had just left.
"Horcrux?" She echoed, suddenly realizing the implications of what he had said.
"I had wondered why your magic was so strange. Interference so to speak." He stepped closer.
She wanted to sigh with relief. Horcrux? She could handle him knowing that. Obscurial? Up the duff by Harry? He couldn't know those two secrets.
"You killed that boy."
"I was blind, Tom. How could I hurt anyone?" Her voice was too soft, the lie too obvious on her tongue, and she knew it the moment the words left her lips.
"Blind, yes. Helpless, no." He put a hand on her shoulder, and suddenly she found herself standing in the cafe she'd lived and worked in all those months ago.
"What?" She gasped, looking around the darkened shop as she checked to make sure the steady thrum of magic from inside her seemed undisturbed, both obscurus and fetal.
"You lived here." He whispered, still circling casually as if they hadn't just apperated across the continent.
Miranda looked for signs of muggles, but it was eerily empty, "Yes. And worked. It's a cafe. I served coffee to muggles."
He laughed at that.
"Served." He echoed, shaking his head with a sick smile on his face, "My sister, serving muggles. Perish the thought. But here we are. You served muggles. You are a waste of magic." They were suddenly back in the clearing, the café a conjuring not reality she realized dumbly as he continued to speak, "I've come to take back what's mine."
"Yours?" Miranda scoffed, "I thought we just agreed I'm a failure. How could I have something of yours?"
He stood still for a moment, studying her as the shack creaked beside them, "Did you know your right hand trembles when we're near one another?"
Miranda instinctively clenched her fist, but he was reptilian fast, and grabbed her arm before she could put it behind her. Using his long bony fingers, he pried her fingers off the mark they covered. He hissed in pleasure, "Fascinating. I knew as soon as the other horcruxes began to be destroyed that another living one existed aside from our dear Nagini. I just never imagined a set of untrained half-bloods the world forgot could have invoked old blood magic." He released her so abruptly she staggered backwards. "I was wrong," he said coolly.
"What are you going to do about it?" Miranda whispered, using every ounce of her energy to stop the Obscurus that was preparing to protect her. They wouldn't be able to kill him. Not with the prophecy. All that setting the entity loose would do was kill her baby.
"You know, it's curious you haven't tried to fight me." He told her, rustling in the folds of his black robe for something, "We both know you have known for quite a while that while I may have…borrowed…your brother's name, I'm not him. He's essentially dead."
Miranda kept her face blank, but her heart hammered rapidly in her chest, "You use his name, you have his story. How are you not him?"
"I'm not human." He said darkly, "A dark entity looking for war, pain, and a host body. Your brother was lost, and I led him down a path for which there is no happy ending."
"The body?" Miranda asked, not bearing to look at him, instead fixing her eyes on the distant sunset.
"I cannot survive on my own. Therefore, I stole the life of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Lord Voldemort is a convenient anagram that's closer to my true name." He stopped rustling, instinct telling her that he'd paused directly behind her, but she still couldn't bring herself to turn around. "He was quiet for a long time, your Tom. So long I thought I'd finally been rid of him. Then you came along, and with you, the memories. The remaining dregs of Tom's soul are absolutely enamored with you. I was very fortunate. He would not have been mine if he'd stayed yours."
He suddenly reached out with one hand and grabbed her elbow, forcing her to face him. In the same breath, Lord Voldemort sank the jeweled dagger into Miranda's chest.
The pain streaked through her, sharp and direct. "Oh." She said lamely, trying to pull it out as she staggered away from him. It didn't budge, stuck unnaturally in her body just below her ribcage. Her wand fell out of the hand she'd grasped it in, rolling away from her across the verdant grass surrounding them.
His thin lips stretched across his face in what might have been a gleeful smile, "This dagger is specifically designed to absorb the victim's magic as they die. You can't have your victim taking it out and stalling the process, can you? The closer you are to dying, the more magic I'll have. Until you're dead, then the whole of your magic and that tiny bit of Tom's belong to me forever. I might finally be rid of him with you gone. I'll be able to be at full strength as I bring Potter to his end as well." He watched her stumble and fall, "Rest easy, Sister. It'll be over soon. Just give up. The longer you fight, the more it will hurt. Just let go."
She couldn't let go though. The Obscurus roared in her head, promising release and sweet vengeance, but she pushed past it to check on the baby as best as she could. The effort distracted her from her own pain and Voldemort's departure, and was probably the most foolishly useless thing she'd ever done. What did it matter if the baby survived the initial stab? Not even the most powerful mediwitch could save a baby so underdeveloped from a dead mother. They were both doomed.
Alone once more, Miranda realized that the initial pain and shock were fading. Her thoughts became clearer. If she stayed alive long enough, they wouldn't be able to kill each other. Maybe it would be long enough for Harry to gain the upper hand? For someone to find her and do something to save their baby? Crawling on her hands and knees, Miranda made her way into the Shack, and barely had enough energy left to pull off her robe and press it around the wound to staunch the blood that seeped out of her. The pressure hurt, but it had to help. She curled around her stomach, careful of the knife, and whispered, "I'm so sorry, little one. Your Da would have loved you, even more than I do."
The Golden Trio had the diadem, and a sense of near…joy filled the Room of Requirement.
There was suddenly a loud bang, and a sixth year Ravenclaw boy yelled, "Snape knows Harry's about, he's calling all students to the Great Hall. What do we do?"
All of the Hogwarts students looked to Neville, who nodded, "We need to go. I'll send word to the Order." Everyone started grabbing their cloaks and running out the door.
Harry traded looks with his two best friends in the world. "We need to go with them. I need to confront Snape."
Together they stepped outside the Room of Requirement and into the subdued yet hysterical student body. They went with the flow of the students, their hoods pulled up.
Snape placed himself at the front of the room, "Many of you are surely wondering why I have summoned you at this hour. It's came to my attention that earlier this evening Harry Potter was sighted in Hogsmead. Now... should anyone, student or staff, attempt to aid Mr. Potter, they will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their transgression. Furthermore, any person found to have knowledge of these events, who fails to come forward, will be treated as equally guilty. No one?"
Despite a great tension hanging in the air and the almost inaudible sounds escaping some of the remaining younger children, no one spoke a word. In an effort to elicit a response from someone, Snape began to walk down the center of the hall. "If anyone in here has any knowledge of Mr. Potter's movements this evening I invite them to step forward. Now."
Harry stepped forward, "It seems, despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster. How dare you stand where Dumbledore stood! Tell them how it happened that night. How you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you, and killed him."
After several seconds, Snape raised his wand and Professor McGonagall pushed them both aside. They exchanged spells, sending students cowering against the walls, before Snape flung himself out the great window, apperating back to The Dark Lord no doubt.
The Carrows were up against a wall with the wand of Pomona Sprout trained on them. Harry was shaking in anger. "He couldn't even give me an answer."
He sighed, subduing the rage that wasn't going to help, "Anyone hurt?"
After several called to the negative, they went about protecting the castle at Professor McGonagall's bequest, pausing only when a deep magical voice spread across the school, "I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."
Millicent Bulstrode started screaming as soon as the ringing cleared from their ears. "He's right there! Get him!"
"Millicent, you are a heartless bint." Draco drawled. "Anyone who shares her opinion will have to go through me if they want to go blabbing to their parents. I think it best that those of you with those feelings retire to your rooms." The teachers concurred with the heir's plan and began taking the Slytherins back to their dorms.
The darkly handsome Blaise Zabini, however, stayed, smiling softly at Draco, "Like I would leave my best mate with all these nutters."
Draco grinned, "I knew you'd have my back."
"Well, what about me? Aren't you impressed I'm here?" Pansy Parkinson snapped from the other side of the room.
Draco chuckled at his on again off again lover, "Not these days. I dare say you've turned a corner."
She sneered back at him, "Don't get too comfortable. I'm just tired of the whole mess. It's difficult to throw successful galas when everyone is worried their going to be killed on a whim. Puts a damper on the whole spirit of things."
The preparations were terrifying and furious, the air oppressive. A minute after midnight, the Death Eaters began to bombard the shell around the school with spells. And Draco made a terrible realization. "Potter!"
Harry turned to the Slytherin, "Malfoy?"
"Have you seen Miranda?" Draco demanded.
"No." Harry said, shaking his head. He'd been looking for her, desperate to see her again, but the witch had been nowhere.
Draco paled, and shared an odd look with Molly Weasley that had Harry on edge, "Potter, she wouldn't be anywhere but by your side if she knew you were here. Everyone in this castle knows. Pans?"
The Slytherin witch looked sharply at him, and shifted nervously, "She left our rooms after supper. I haven't seen her since."
"Did she say anything?" Harry asked, marveling at the absurdity of his first actual conversation with Pansy.
Pansy looked stricken, more pale than he'd ever seen her, and she looked between the two young wizards, "I don't… she just said she had to go. I thought she meant to the loo, but… maybe…bugger. She looked ill, Draco. Not that she doesn't look that way half the time these days, but really, she's been better this last week. I was going to go look for her when Snape summoned us, and I just…"
"Forgot." Draco finished, looking for all the world that it wasn't unusual for Pansy to drop threads of intention in favor of more drama.
"What if He has her?" Pansy said, starting to pant, "I should have gone with her. She…" Her eyes flitted to Harry for a moment, wary for some reason, "We have to find her."
Harry didn't understand why, but he had a sudden realization that they seemed just as worried about Miranda as he was. Even Molly Weasley, who had been a silent participant in the conversation looked worried. Not one of them would look him in the eyes.
Severus Snape had gone looking for the Dark Lord after fleeing the castle, intending to slow him down. He had never expected the sight that greeted him in the Shrieking Shack. He wouldn't have gone inside if it hadn't been for the ten and a half inch holly wand laying in the grass at the start of a trail of blood. He had pocketed the finely crafted wand and followed the trail inside.
Miranda Riddle was dying. The blade in her chest jerked with the shallow breaths she had left, blood soaked robes abandoned on the dirt floor beside her, but she noticed him instantly, reaching out one bloodied hand. "Head…master…" The word was gasped out, and he found himself approaching the pale little witch. She grasped his hand before his black robes had even settled around him as he knelt by her side. The magic in her eyes seemed to spark, her lips moved and her jaw worked, but no sound came out of her lips. Just blood. She couldn't even take a full breath anymore.
"Hush. Don't strain yourself." He let his mind brush hers as he searched his robes with his free hand for a potion to heal her with once he removed the dagger from her body.
Or he'd planned on it. The knife didn't move. Spelled. She confirmed as much as she showed him what had happened. As the mental connection faded, her voice rang in his head:
"I have to die. But my baby doesn't. Had enough time here to think about it. The blade went high, baby's nice and safe for now. But it won't be when I'm gone, not without help. Wait till I breathe my last breath, then save my baby."
Her thoughts were clear, pointed. The plan she'd concocted was morbid, but it might work. Her soul had to die, the part that made her her, but her body could live a little longer. She reminded him very much of Lily as she stared up at him, blue eyes daring him to disagree or argue. A mother protecting her child till the bitter end.
"Potter's?" He asked in spite of himself. A bleary smile crossed her face as she gave a tiny nod, and her grip grew weaker on his hand. "Naturally." He groused, but he wasn't just going to let her die. He scooped the witch up into his arms, and took her to where he could keep an eye on her.
The Dark Lord, to his credit, barely batted an eye when he saw his right hand man with the now limp form in his arms, "Better for her to be here while she dies anyway. Rather poetic, another woman who loved him dying just before we face one another."
As the shell protecting Hogwarts showed more signs of weakening, Harry made his own decision. "I need to go."
"What? Harry, you can't be serious!" Ron yelled.
Harry looked at his best friend, "I need to confront him, Ron. That's the only way I can end this battle, is to be face to face with him. That's what the prophecy says. You two take care of the snake for me?"
"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried, throwing her arms around her best friend, having figured out his plan.
He looked to Draco, "Find Miranda and keep her safe for me, Malfoy."
The blonde boy nodded, "I will, Potter."
Harry held out a hand, "Thank you."
Draco took it, shaking firmly, "Don't mention it."
The corner of Harry's mouth quirked up in a wry grin, "I would never dream of it."
Suddenly, the covered bridge exploded and the three arsonists, Ginny, Seamus, and Neville, came running. In that instant, Harry and Draco were consumed in fighting. They were separated, and it wasn't until Voldemort called his Death Eaters off to give an hour reprieve that Harry was able to stand still long enough to try to find Miranda again. He couldn't. Not among those hiding, and not among the dead.
The hour was half over, and Harry was headed to Voldemort. He finally deciphered the meaning of the snitch Dumbledore had left him, and the walk was eased by the presence of his parents, who assured him that death was painless, that they would stay with him as long as they could.
Seeing Voldemort standing in the center of a herd of Death Eaters, holding the Elder Wand almost made Harry want to run the other way. He grinned evilly when he saw him. "Oh my, I am lucky today. Harry Potter...The Boy Who Lived...come to die."
Harry saw her then, held by Severus Snape. Still and covered in blood, "Miranda!"
Her blue eyes barely registered that he had said her name. Then he realized she had been stabbed, blood dripping onto the ground from a knife in her chest.
Snape lowered Miranda's body to the ground almost gently, and seemed to grimace when Voldemort nudged her with a bare foot. She had the saddest look on her face as her blue eyes found his green ones for one last time. Harry felt it in his soul when she stopped fighting. He knew, deeply, when the light faded from her eyes and her soul departed her damaged body. Miranda was gone.
He wanted to curse himself, he wanted to scream, to run and hold her one last time. She had known she was going to die, hadn't she? She had tried to tell him, and he just hadn't listened. There was a heartbreaking noise, half cry of pain, half yell of fury. It was a name perhaps. Was it him? Someone else? Harry didn't know.
In that same moment, Voldemort raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear. He wanted to die now. With her.
Harry saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.
Next chapter picks up right where this one left off and is a great departure from the original version of this story, so please let me know what you think!
-Jenn