A/N: Hey everyone! I just finished the rough draft of chapter 48, and it's really bizarre coming back from that portion of the story to this to edit. Also, I've decided to swallow the planned sequel into this story, as the ending point for part one didn't feel as right as I thought it would. That'll bring this story from 44-ish chapters to around 65, I think, but it feels like the right move.

Thanks for all the reviews, faves, and follows! I remain blown away by the response, and the words of encouragement. The vast majority of you are the best!

Chapter 36

April 27, 1996

Harry flew around the pitch with ease, feeling more free than he had since exams began. His friends decided to take a break from the constant studying for the morning, and to no one's surprise, Ron suggested they head to the Quidditch pitch. It seemed other students had similar ideas for their Saturday, as around thirty people were already flying when they arrived. Some threw a quaffle back and forth, while others appeared content to simply enjoy the nice weather.

Astoria quickly invented a game to play, and almost every student agreed to join upon hearing the idea. It was a version of aerial tag, with three taggers attempting to touch the other fliers. Once someone was tagged they had to descend to the pitch for thirty seconds, rejoining the chase once the time was done, with the taggers only winning if every other flier was on the ground at the same time. The tag-ees, however, would win if any of their number remained in the air after fifteen minutes.

Hermione and Neville agreed to keep the time for those that had been tagged, and Harry managed to win the first match for the tag-ees by nimbly avoiding Ginny, Angelina, and Cho. The second game, however, he'd been named a tagger, and quickly formed a strategy with Roger and Katie. His teammates would work in tandem to herd the other flyers into groups, taking them out as they could, while he would target the better fliers among the opposition, and Harry relished the chance to really let loose.

He watched as Ginny avoided being caught in the group Roger and Katie were cornering, diving recklessly towards the ground. He sped to intercept the girl, and grinned at the seeker's shock when she pulled out of her dive. She attempted to flip her broom backwards to speed away, but Harry's Firebolt proved superior as he touched her gently on the foot.

"Damnit, Harry," the girl hissed disappointedly. "I get to fly the Firebolt next time I'm a tagger."

"Why would I allow that?"

"Because you have a sense of fairplay?"

"Try again," he countered with a grin. "Your time only starts when you get to Hermione… You're wasting it talking to me."

"Am I? Or am I buying time for the rest of my team while you lord your victory?"

"You little jerk," Harry replied, realizing the truth behind her words. "Go to time-out, would you?"

"You may have the faster broom," he heard the girl call victoriously as he sped away. "But the brain needs work!"

Harry shook the distraction away as he rocketed across the pitch, noticing Roger and Katie pushing most of the fliers towards the far goalpost. He flew near the ground to stay unnoticed, turning sharply upwards when he neared in an effort to thin the herd. He tagged four on his first pass through the students, each voicing their displeasure at the surprise. He turned to make a second pass and managed to catch Blaise and Tracey.

"Harry!" Blaise called as he descended. "I have a question about the game!"

"Kiss my ass, Zabini," he yelled back, knowing the boy was trying to distract him again.

His trio worked well together, but the time limit quickly got the better of them. When Hermione announced the round over, Ron, Daphne, and Angelina remained airborne, signaling their team's victory. Harry tried to feel disappointed, but the grin on his girlfriend's face seemed contagious. He sped towards her to congratulate her on her victory, but her grin grew mischievous as he neared.

"Still can't catch me," she challenged as she sped away, grinning over her shoulder.

Harry's stomach flipped at her expression, though he quickly pushed his broom to full speed. He caught up to the girl after a few seconds, but flew a high-speed spiral around her instead of attempting a tag. Daphne giggled at his antics, and led the way towards the Ravenclaw stands. She slowed as she approached and jumped from her broom onto the top row, and Harry landed next to her, immediately pulling her into a hug.

"Congrats," he whispered. "There aren't many people that can say they've beaten me at anything on this pitch."

"Clearly the dominance has gone to your head," she answered with a smirk. "I'll make sure to tell as many future generations as I can about my victory, though it wasn't that difficult. Maybe you've lost a step."

"I probably have," Harry admitted with a smile, pulling the girl onto the bench next to him. "Though Gryffindor went undefeated without me, so it doesn't really matter. Another Lion Quidditch Cup..."

"You say that like it would bother me. The only year I even cheered for Slytherin was first year... Couldn't quite stomach the sight of Draco representing our house."

"The fact that you could stomach the sight of him at all is impressive," he countered, grabbing her hand. "Just Runes left for you, right?"

"Monday morning," Daphne confirmed. "Dad wants us to head home after instead of waiting for the train…"

"You should."

"Are you?" she asked, her voice turning dangerous.

"I'm taking the train," Harry admitted cautiously, knowing he was on thin ice.

"Then so am I. Astoria is free to make her own decision, but if you feel like you need to be here, I'll be here too."

"I look forward to it," he answered with an anxious smile, hoping it was the right answer.

"You're learning fast. I'd reward you appropriately, but Ron and Hermione are heading our way."

Harry looked up at the pair approaching on a single broom, and glanced down to see Astoria had taken over for Hermione, keeping time with Neville. He smiled at his friends as Ron guided the broom to the platform, and offered a hand to Hermione to help her to the floor.

"I'm gonna ask Mr. Weasley to end the ban on flying carpets," she said with a grateful smile, plopping onto the bench next to Harry.

"It's good to know the future Minister, isn't it?" he asked with a grin. "We could ask for all sorts of favors."

"Good luck," Ron interjected as he sat next to his girlfriend. "I've been trying to butter him up for sixteen years... Hasn't worked once."

"Maybe you're just bad at it," Daphne offered with a smirk, drawing a grin from the redhead.

"You're probably right... Let's figure out a way to corrupt him before he gets too powerful. My first proposal will be to let the Cannons start with a three game advantage."

"So they'll go three and seventeen?"

"Harry," Ron said instead of answering Daphne's question. "I never did warn you about the dangers of dating a Slytherin… I think it's time to correct that."

"Bit too late," he replied with a grin. "She stays, unfortunately."

He flinched dramatically as Daphne swatted his stomach, and kissed the girl on the cheek in apology. The action seemed to appease her, and Harry smiled before turning to watch the action on the pitch.

—

April 28, 1996

Harry entered the Headmaster's office, his stomach unclenching in relief when he saw the Slytherin head of house.

"Any problems?" he asked, a previously ignored tension leaving his shoulders.

"None," Snape answered neutrally. "I ended up burning the entire potions lab, including the instructions for the two I was working on. I thought the wards might stop me, but I got through just fine."

A pregnant pause filled the room, and Harry glanced at Albus to find the man studying his feet, clearly wanting him to be the one to proceed.

"I'm not sure what to say," he finally offered, feeling incredibly awkward. "I doubt your time as a spy was as fruitful as you wanted, and more painful than you deserved. I'm thankful for it, and congrats on it being finished."

"Thanks," Snape countered, clearly feeling just as uncomfortable. "I'm not sure how to feel about it just yet, but it's a weight off my shoulders at the very least."

"I won't ask more of you until you're ready, but I hope you'll head to the Village when school lets out. We could use a potioneer of your quality, and I'm sure we'll have prisoners soon."

"I've already reached out to Charlie," he confirmed with a nod. "I have a small house waiting for me, and I'll bring my equipment when I move. I'm happy to serve as an apothecary until a real one gets started."

"That would be appreciated," Harry said with a small smile, though he still felt the weirdness of the situation.

"Perhaps the two of you could quit acting like this is some Shakespearian tragedy," Albus interrupted with a roll of his eyes. "This formality is mind numbing."

"Thanks so much, Headmaster," Harry countered with a glare. "Let me just pull out my rolodex of how to handle awkward scenarios real quick."

"I think my actions will set his plans back," Snape offered more casually. "Not for long, but we might see Arthur named Minister in the building itself."

"That's only three days from now."

"Three days more than we had."

"Fair enough," Harry admitted. "Though I'd bet my life that he'll respond somehow…"

"Alastor has agreed to place a few members of Alpha Company at the Ministry for the inauguration," Albus offered. "Hopefully the number of friendly wands will discourage any possible attacks."

"Remus mentioned it, and apparently Tonks is pissed about the split focus of their training. We're shooting for Monday for the St. Mungo's extraction… and I just realized Snape isn't subject to any oaths about this information…"

Severus quickly produced his wand and swore to not reveal anything he heard until he signed the primary contract, and Harry breathed relievedly.

"Thanks. I know I can trust you, but having you captured would present a problem."

"I don't plan to be," the man offered with a smirk. "I'll go straight to my new home when my job is done for the semester, though I'll head to the Manor sometime before then to sign the contract."

"Perfect. So we continue to prepare for St. Mungo's, and hope the students that are heading home early go unnoticed."

"Slim chance."

"Better than none."

—

May 3, 1996

Arthur was named Minister in an official inauguration on the first of the month, though the ceremony was restricted to four members of the press, the new Minister, Albus, and twelve carefully chosen members of Alpha Company, the rest holding in reserve. The story was received well by the public, though the Prophet's coverage was suspiciously lacking.

In his first day, Arthur directed all non-essential personnel to work from home, and officially named the new chamber in the Village as the new residence of the Wizengamot. From what he'd told Harry, the Ministry was now a ghost town, almost entirely bereft of workers besides the questionable auror force and a couple workers per department. Winky popped the new Minister and his protection detail to and from his office, and stayed close to the man in case any attempts at a coup took place.

Harry was appreciative of the legitimacy Arthur's ceremony allowed the man, but knew the ICW would have accepted his ascension regardless. Scrimgeour hadn't been heard of since the election was decided, and Dumbledore assumed the worst. It was a disheartening fact in an otherwise positive outcome, but Harry held out hope that the man would be located soon. The other main sticking point was the untrustworthy auror force that still remained, as replacing them would take a few days. Amelia and Arthur were hard at work on the issue, though, and hoped to have a new force in place within a week.

"You're zoning out again," Daphne whispered from his left, her shoulder pressed against his in the Great Hall.

Around half the student population had already left the school, their families deciding they'd rather have the kids close, and the building felt shockingly empty in their absence. The remaining students were mostly those of less than comfortable home lives, and Harry's heart ached at the number. There was an unspoken agreement amongst those remaining to behave more informally, and the professors had even allowed a much more casual learning environment, most taking requests on what to teach.

Harry thoroughly enjoyed the few classes he'd been able to attend, and that his girlfriend could now sit next to him at meals without causing too much of a stir.

"Sorry, just stressing about Monday," he admitted, careful not to divulge too much.

"I thought you said everyone was ready?"

"They are, it's just not something we can fully plan for."

"Call me on your mirror if things go south," she countered with a smile. "I'll grab Dobby and we'll come save the day."

"I bet you two could. We'll be fine… the anticipation just feels worse than the action." Harry mentally shook himself, trying to will the anxiety he was feeling away. "How's training with Neville going?"

"It hurts," the boy in question interrupted from across the table. "I knew going in that Daphne would be miles ahead, but she's… mean."

"Took you this long to figure out?" Harry asked with a grin.

"It's been great," Daphne countered with a stern look at Neville. "Longbottom's improving by leaps and bounds. Almost managed to dodge one earlier…"

"I've dodged plenty, Greengrass. It's the landing of a spell that's proving tricky..."

"Keep working, Nev," Harry offered, chuckling at the pair. "Daphne's incredible, and you only get better by training with better."

"I will, and eventually it'll be your girlfriend spending the afternoon with Pomfrey."

Harry smiled at the sentiment, and allowed the pair to bicker back and forth goodnaturedly. They'd formed a quick sibling-like bond and were often at odds, to the great amusement of Astoria and himself. He was glad Neville was so determined though, as the boy had recently decided not to return to Hogwarts next year. He wanted to do what he could for the war effort, whether that be militarily or in the Wizengamot.

It was a harsh reminder that their childhood was effectively over, and Harry knew Neville wouldn't be the last to decide not to return. Dumbledore offered to work out a hybrid independent study for any who wanted to continue despite joining the mess of real life, and Harry was pretty sure that was the route he'd take. He hadn't come to a final decision, however, as he wanted to talk it over with Sirius and Daphne first.

His girlfriend nudged his leg, nodding towards the head table when he met her eye, and Harry saw Albus sending him a pointed look. He took the clear message, rising from his seat after kissing her cheek in thanks.

"I'll find you guys after."

"Any idea what he wants?" Hermione asked worriedly, her new normal state of being.

"He's naming an award after me," Harry offered dryly. "Something about 'The Most Intelligent Student to Ever Grace the Halls'. Kind of obnoxious, but I figure I've done so much for this place…"

"I heard they're renaming the school," Ron added seriously. "Potterwarts, I think."

"Nah," Neville interjected. "That was Pomfrey talking about a new virus of some sort. They're working on an immunization for the incoming first years."

"Gross," Astoria offered as Ron broke into laughter. "Harry, please leave before these two idiots keep going."

"Yeah, that happened way too quickly," he agreed, sending Daphne one last grin.

The gargoyle opened for him immediately, and he soon found himself seated across from his Headmaster. Fawkes took up the customary spot on his knee, clearly enjoying the attention Harry was giving him.

"Albus never gives you any scratches, does he?" he asked the bird. Fawkes' intelligent eyes found his, and he warbled glumly. "I knew it. When you get tired of being neglected, you come find me."

"You ungrateful pigeon," Dumbledore accused. "If you're so mistreated, maybe I'll take the new perch and treats I got you back to the store."

Fawkes responded by flying to the aforementioned items, grabbing one in each talon and trilling happily before flashing away.

"Lost yourself a familiar," Harry teased with a grin. "I saw some huge slugs at the Manor the other day, you're welcome to any of them."

"I appreciate the offer, my boy, but Fawkes has only gone so far as his spot next to my bed. Isn't that right, you puffed up turkey!?"

Albus' call was answered by an angry squawk, and Harry heard things crashing to the floor in the nearby room. The pair chuckled at the sound, though Dumbledore winced each time something else broke loudly. It eventually grew quiet, and Harry waited for the older man to broach the subject for the meeting.

"I received a message from Alastor," he finally said, popping a lemon drop into his mouth. "Your medic Commander has raised an issue in regards to the extraction."

"Isaac? What's the problem?"

"The fact that you remember his name says a lot about the Commander you'll be," Albus noted with a smile. "They've built their team with current St. Mungo's employees and trainees, and Isaac says the entire unit has noticed the same thing. The hospital has had new visitors the last few days... None seem to need medical help, and they all tend to hang out in the waiting rooms."

"Damn it. How many?"

"It's tough to get an accurate number, as the people come and go, but we believe there's at least six in the hospital at all times."

"So Voldemort will know as soon as we get there," Harry concluded darkly. "What does Moody think?"

"That we continue as intended. They may have guessed we're planning an extraction, but they aren't prepared for how thorough our training has been. Alastor and Tonks both have full confidence that Alpha Company can be in and out before word gets to Voldemort."

"I find it hard to be optimistic in that regard."

"As do I,' Albus admitted with a grimace. "I was going to suggest we call Jean. The French aren't prepared to help in the extraction, but the sheer numbers they can bring if things truly fall apart may help sway the day."

"That was my first thought, too."

"I'm glad to hear it, because I took the initiative, and he's waiting to join us if you'd like."

"You don't need my permission…"

"I think I do," Albus argued gently. "I find myself in the weird position of not having a certain spot in your chain of command, but I know I'm somewhere beneath you. I didn't want to act on your behalf without checking."

"This is so weird. You hereby have my permission to act in any way that benefits our cause, regardless of checking with me first. Good enough?"

"Perfect! I'll use my position to cause much mayhem."

Harry rolled his eyes at the man's excitement, and the pair were quickly joined by the intimidating Frenchman. Handshakes were shared, though the trio quickly got down to business.

"I think organization is where we hold the highest advantage," Jean said as he took a chair. "Voldemort may have the numbers, and there's no doubt he's training that force, but from what my Commander has told me, your troops are almost over prepared."

"I hope they'll always be so," Harry admitted. "What are your initial thoughts?"

"With the close quarters, we'd be in the way if we joined the extraction in force. I'd like to add a member of our people with each squad of yours, and perhaps you could provide a few portkeys."

"We can," Albus assured him. "Perhaps six, one for each floor. That gives us fifty wands in reserve for each level, though that number will feel small if Voldemort himself arrives."

"My unit is on Voldemort duty," Harry interjected. "I still don't like the odds, but we're gonna be floating to wherever the possible fighting is most intense."

"Could I join you?"

"The day I say no to Albus Dumbledore standing next to me in a fight is the day I need to give up control."

"I'd like to join as well," Jean offered from Harry's left.

"Sir," he began awkwardly. "I can't ask…"

"You didn't. You're putting your own life on the line, what kind of leader would I be if I didn't do the same. I'll bring my best friend and his son, two of our country's best, and I trust them with my life. If Voldemort shows up, you could use the help."

"Fleur's gonna light me on fire when she finds out her boyfriend and her father are joining me."

"Probably," the man agreed with a grin. "And Luc is her godfather, so there's that, too."

"Perfect. Albus, any chance you'd like to be Field Marshal?"

"Not a chance."

"Maybe Alastor would…"

"Relax,' Jean interrupted with a laugh. "Fleur is fully aware of what we're doing here, and her only complaint will be that she was left out."

"Then I graciously accept, Jean," Harry countered with a smile. "Your country's support is more than I could've ever asked for."

"Your handling of Bill is good enough payment for me to jump in head first, though I won't say that at any stump speeches. I've never seen Fleur happier..."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'd say I'll make sure he toes the line, but I'm not the best person to define that line, and the Weasleys are famously stubborn."

"As are the Delacours. Any future children they may have will be a nightmare."

—

May 6, 1996

The planning for the hospital extraction shifted focus over the weekend, with the French commander spending the weekend in the village to help work out the details. Amelia demanded redundancies in every detail, and each squad of French aurors would have portkeys to each floor of St. Mungo's. Harry's team would also have special portkeys, and the group was given a brief explanation of how to use the devices early Monday morning.

"The muggles call them Rubik's Cubes," Fred explained, seriously for once. "They're simple children's puzzles, but we've modified them a bit."

"They normally turn on multiple axes," George continued. "But we've locked all but the blue colored layer. As you spin the section a number will appear on the top, and once you tap the number with your wand, you'll be off and running."

"An impressive innovation, boys," Albus congratulated, earning matching grins from the pair.

"They've been tested for the last two days," Tonks interjected. "We had a few issues with repeated use, but the twins ironed those out yesterday."

"I like it," Harry said as he stood. "Thanks, guys. I look forward to whatever goodies you come out with next."

"We're working on something special," Fred promised with a wink before the pair trooped out of the briefing room.

Harry approached the detailed map of the hospital mounted to the wall, and found all eyes on him when he turned. His nerves were all over the place, but he forced them down stubbornly.

"This is our last chance to voice any concerns."

His own auxiliary team looked confident, as did the military commanders. It was weird thinking of his friends as such, but Harry knew that was exactly who they were at the moment.

"I have one," Jean offered, sitting next to his friend Luc. "For our team specifically, I'm worried we may interfere with the training the rest of you have gone through."

"I had the same thought," Dumbledore added. "I was going to speak with the three of you after. I suggest we allow Harry's team to act as they've trained to, and we four can guard their backs."

"That works for me," Harry offered with a smile. "The five of us have been training together for months, so throwing four new people into the mix may not go well. If Voldemort shows, however…"

"Then everything's out the window," Remus concluded with a grimace.

"I'll be happy to step forward in that scenario," Albus promised, and Harry noticed many in the room seem to deflate in relief.

"I'll be next to you," he countered confidently. "Bravo Company has portkeys in case things go full tilt, but the French are our first reinforcements. It's gonna be hectic enough in close quarters without throwing Bravo in before they're ready."

"They may not be up to our standards," Moody interrupted confidently. "But I'd put Bravo up against a similar number of Death Eaters any day. Now let's get a move on. All this build up has my bells a-jangling."

The grizzled General left the conference room after giving his two cents, leaving a few confused faces in his wake.

"'Bells jangling'?" Luc whispered to Jean, earning a similarly confused expression from his friend.

"Not worth learning that idiom fellas," Sirius offered with a grin, following Moody out.

—

Daphne paced the Room of Requirement, as she'd been given the day off after speaking to her head of house. Harry left before dawn, and the fact that he'd come to say goodbye first meant less and less as the day progressed. By breakfast she knew she'd be worthless in classes, and Snape quickly picked up on her quick mental descent.

It was frustrating for her, as she prided herself on being able to rise above any chaos ever since she was a first year. The nonsense in second year hadn't phased her, despite the danger, and the 'escaped mass murderer' in third year hadn't publicly shaken her one bit. Even the mess of the tournament last year hadn't caused her a moment of excitement or anxiety.

Today, however, Daphne was a wreck. As she watched her boyfriend walk away with their headmaster, she knew that her famously neutral facade wasn't available. Knowing Harry was walking into near certain danger was an unbearable feeling, and she almost wished for the days of sudden dementor attacks. Reacting to immediate chaos was somehow much easier than watching him willingly walk into it, and the realization was confusing. Harry was prepared for this. He'd trained for weeks, and his team had spent that time thinking of every eventuality.

Those facts didn't help lessen her anxiety, however, and she renewed her earlier vow to no longer be a damsel in distress awaiting her hero's return. She'd soon stand next to him as he fought the world, and the thought was so much more comforting than the memory of him walking away.

She heard Neville enter, interrupting her pacing, and rounded on the boy angrily.

"You're late."

"I'm five minutes early," Neville countered gently, his hands raised in slight surrender.

Astoria, Tracey, Blaise, Ron and Hermione followed the Gryffindor into the room, and Daphne took a quick deep breath to ease her frustration. The breath was completely ineffectual, however, and she shook herself instead.

"You're right," she admitted after a moment. "I'm just a bit wired right now."

"You don't say," Astoria countered immediately. "The whirling books and candlesticks aren't a coincidence?"

Daphne took a moment to look around her, realizing her magic was out of control and she hadn't noticed. She took another deep breath, forcing herself to calm, and the objects finally returned to the earth.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I'm all over the place today."

"No shit," her sister quipped with a small grin. "You won't be firing spells at my boyfriend while you're like this. Go train with the dummies."

"They're too slow. I already tried."

"Too bad. If the auror level training dummies are too slow for you at the moment, why would Neville step in?"

"He shouldn't," Daphne agreed after a long moment. "I just don't know how to handle this."

"Welcome to life as one of Harry's supporting characters," Ron quipped with a grin. "It's infuriating, though the result usually proves worth it."

"I don't know how you guys have done it for so long."

"We didn't know any better," Hermione admitted. "He jumped on a full grown troll in first year for God's sake… It's almost like we were born into this life, having Harry make things so exciting from the jump."

"Well I'm fully aware it isn't normal, and it's driving me nuts."

The group seemed to agree with the sentiment, though any response was cut off before it could be offered. Hedwig flew gracefully through the now-permanent window of the Room, and landed lightly on Daphne's shoulder, nuzzling her cheek and interrupting the conversation. The majestic bird's action did what nothing else could for the girl, finally breaking her from her anxiety.

"Hey Hedwig," she soothed, stroking the owl's feathers. "I guess you're used to this, too."

Hedwig barked softly in response, and Daphne gently settled onto one of the nearby couches. Her friends sat around her, and the bird hopped happily from student to student accepting attention. The distraction was brief, but she appreciated it all the same.

—

"Alpha's boots on ground," Alastor barked into a handheld floo the twins developed for communication. "Squads are splitting to their objectives. HQ's in the main lobby, no contact as of yet."

Harry heard Amelia's tinny voice respond affirmatively, and he closed his eyes as he cast his senses outward. The number of magical people in the building made it impossible for him to pick out any possible danger, but he was sure he'd notice if Voldemort made an appearance.

"Where to, Marshal?" Enzo asked, having demanded to join Harry's team at the last moment.

"Nowhere," he answered calmly. "If we try to help we'll only slow them down. Let the squads do their jobs, and be prepared to jump if someone calls for help."

Harry could see the French quick reaction force outside the front doors, standing guard while listening to the comms. They served as exterior guards for the operation, and would be the first through the doors should they be needed. The hospital workers and patrons all wore varying expressions of shock, though Harry's medic team had briefed as many people as could be trusted.

He saw a mediwitch trying to calm two small children in the nearby waiting room, and his heart went out to the young ones. His own nerves and anxiety had vanished as soon as they landed in the hospital, but he knew it had found new victims. He quickly conjured two stuffed dragons and animated them to fly around each other playfully, and with a quick spell, the animals sailed across the room, the children quickly distracted from their sudden fear.

"First floor clear," Harry heard over the comms, his jaw dropping at the speed of the feat. "Second floor clear."

"They're really moving," he said to Alastor, pleased by the pace.

"Those two were always going to be quickest," the General countered distractedly. "Ground floor should be next as it's mostly offices, but the others will take longer."

"Still impressive," Sirius argued with a grin. "We might be outta here before word gets out."

"Two possible combatants down and restrained on three," the floo chirped in response. "Two more on four. One down on five, but one portkeyed out."

"There it is," Moody grumbled pessimistically before speaking into the floo. "Squad leaders, check in. Any sign of hostilities?"

Negative responses sounded, and Alastor breathed a small sigh of relief. Harry knew the fireteams assigned to floors one and two would soon join their squadmates above, and hoped they'd move with the same speed they'd operated with so far.

"Albus," he said, turning towards the older man. "You're sure he can't fire off transportation wards?"

"The hospital wards wouldn't allow it," the man soothed. "Staff can cast them on certain rooms, but the building as a whole is impervious to anti-apparition and portkey. They need to be able to move patients, and the magic behind the wards has only grown through the years."

The answer reassured Harry, though the atmosphere in the building was so thick he couldn't manage to feel relief. He watched as members of Alpha Company approached the kids in the waiting area, and sent the pair a smile before they were portkeyed away.

"Fifth floor, General!" the floo shrilled jarringly. "Large group of unknowns just portkeyed into the employee break room!"

"Bar the doors," Moody answered sharply. "Keep them there as long as you can, you'll have help momentarily."

Harry nodded when the grizzled man met his gaze, and his team gathered close as he primed the portkey.

"Give 'em hell," Alastor offered, just before the group disappeared.

—

Daphne watched as Neville worked through an obstacle course, the training dummies serving as his opponents. She was impressed by the boy's quick improvement, and almost smiled as he smashed two dummies apart with one spell. His determination the last few weeks was admirable, and his maturing magic had quickly transformed him from a shy, quiet teenager into a confident, powerful young man.

Her other friends remained in the sitting room provided, though Astoria's eyes continually darted towards the training area. Daphne was happy to see her sister so content in her first relationship, but she knew Neville's promise to fight would cause tension for the pair at the very least. She only hoped the two would be as open and honest with each other as she and Harry were, and she silently thanked her lucky stars once more for finding such a person.

She quietly stepped into the training wards, preparing to ambush Neville since her magic had finally stabilized a bit. The final portion of the course held three dummies turned to max level, but there was a small corner that she could hide behind if she was careful.

She watched as the dummies activated, though her view of their target was blocked. All three fired at full speed for a long moment, meaning Neville had survived until this point at the very least. The dummy closest to her suddenly burst into flame, collapsing in on itself, and the one furthest followed shortly by being blasted into the wall.

Just as the third was frozen in a solid block of ice, Daphne made her move. She slipped from her concealed position wand raised, immediately firing three curses at Neville whose wand was at his hip. Instead of connecting, however, the boy reacted faster than she expected.

He sidestepped the stunner with ease, deflecting the disarming spell as he did so. The third, a banishing charm, was blocked by an impressive silent shield, and Neville held it while he found his attacker. Daphne quickly lowered her own wand, and stepped forward with a smile.

"That was perfect, Nev!"

"That was an ambush, Greengrass!" he countered as brightly.

"Not a good one, apparently."

"I was lucky to be facing the right direction. I really wish I had Harry's magical senses."

"It's something he learned," Daphne offered as the pair exited the course. "He's teaching me, though it's harder for me than it was for him. I'm sure he'd let you join us."

"I'll ask tomorrow," Neville promised as he bumped her shoulder fondly.

Daphne froze as they exited the course, the sight of her parents stopping her heart. Her mind immediately went to the worst case scenario, as they'd had no word of how the operation was going.

"Relax, Greengrass," Neville whispered with a grin. "If something happened to Harry we'd find out by the world exploding, not your parents showing up."

Emily turned and smiled in her direction, proving Neville's words correct. Daphne smiled at him gratefully, returning the shoulder bump, and moved towards her father.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hi, dad," he countered sarcastically. "It's so great to see you and Mum! Welcome to the room! Thanks, Professor McGonagall, for delivering my two favorite people!"

Daphne rolled her eyes at his response, though she did smile gratefully at the Transfiguration professor when she noticed her presence.

"Sorry," she offered as she moved in for a hug. "My mind isn't cooperating today, and I just went straight to catastrophe."

"I would too," Emily offered as she replaced her husband in the hug. "We couldn't stand being alone in the Manor, and decided we'd come hang out with you guys until this mess is over. We invited Molly, but she chose to head to Arthur at the Ministry."

"So there's no word yet?" Ron asked from his seat near the fire.

"If there was we wouldn't hear it," Daniel replied, sitting across from the boy. "The base is closed to medical and military personnel only, so the two of us were rocking around in the house with nothing but anxiety."

"You're welcome to do the same in a larger building, then," McGonagall offered with a smile. "I almost wish I didn't know what was happening, as this waiting is unbearable."

"We better get used to it," Hermione countered with a grimace.

"Not if Harry just kills the bastard today," Astoria interjected with a grin. "Shouldn't take too long... Just one mistimed joke about Daphne and he'd send them all to the moon."

"I'll have Professor Sinistra keep an eye out," McGonagall answered with a wink. "I'll leave you all to it, though if you get word, please feel free to break the running in the hallways rule to let me know."

The older witch smiled supportively at Daphne as she exited, and the girl sat next to her Mum on the couch. Emily immediately grabbed her hand, though her father was quickly distracted by her boyfriend's best friend.

"You can have the first move," Ron offered with a predatory grin as he set up a chessboard. "First three if you'd like."

—

"Sergeant Davies!" Harry barked as his unit gained their bearings in the fifth floor waiting room, the man turning immediately at the command.

"Marshal. There's eight of them as best we can count," the serious young man supplied. "Though they haven't attempted to break the doors down."

"A staging party," Remus mused darkly. "Harry, can you pick any of them out?"

"Bellatrix. The others are unknown to me, though two more just joined them."

"Ground Level clear," the handheld floo called from Harry's belt.

"Only three more," Enzo noted, his wand trained on the door.

"Moody," Harry ordered into the comms. "Direct any free wands to help with extraction on other floors. We've got it here."

"Heard," the man responded tinnily. "Floor three clear."

"Two more," Sirius whispered hopefully. "Maybe we can burn this bitch down around my lovely cousin."

"Four's gonna be the slowest," Harry countered. "The Thickey Ward will take some time."

He suddenly felt a huge swell of magic, and raised his hand instinctually. Just as the roof was blown off the building, his large shield popped into place atop his friendly forces. He was still thrown from his feet by the blast, as were his men, but they all scrambled to regain their composure after the impressively loud explosion.

"Bill!" he called, praying his ears would stop ringing. "Shield! Now!"

He watched as the redhead struggled to his feet, clearly shaking cobwebs from his own brain. As he managed to do so, an impressive magical dome appeared around the friendly forces. Harry breathed a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a groan as the oxygen seemed to be sucked from the building.

"What the hell was that?" Moody asked through the floo.

Harry grabbed the device as he watched Voldemort lower himself into the destruction, landing lightly on the far side of the hallway with a smile on his face.

"Voldemort on five."

A/N: So I promised to try and avoid cliffhangers when I could, and I think I've done so… for the most part… this was just one of those natural breaks in the chapter, and there are a few more coming down the pipe soon. I'll work to make sure the following chapter comes as quickly as I can manage to make up for the abrupt ending, but part of me likes it when a chapter ends on such an ominous phrase. Maybe I am a cliffhanger author after all… who knew?