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The sun dropped in the sky over the castle, mottling the horizon with swirl of muted pink and gold. The air held the crisp feel of the approach of cooler nights and the smell of fall was in the air.

The new school term had begun at Hogwarts again. If it hadn’t been for the sheer weight of things to come, it would have been a very pleasant evening indeed.

A boy with dark, untamable hair and an unmistakable lighting bolt scar sat quietly looking out of a castle window from his dormitory four-poster.

Harry had been recounting the events of the past few years over and over in his mind. He was trying to think of something, anything that he could have done differently to change the course of events.

Again, he came up empty.

The world around him seemed to be spiraling out of control. Voldemort was gaining strength and recruiting followers to his devoted group of minions, the Death Eaters.

When they finally attacked, the Order suspected it would be swift and brutal.

Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix had been expecting this for some time. They had also grown in number, but it would make the actual fighting no less intense or deadly.

The older students of Hogwarts and Beaubaxton Academy, as well as a few from Durmstrang, were also to join the fight. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just entered their 7th year at Hogwarts and knew that when it came down to it, their place would be in battle with the others.

The students spent many long nights practicing curses and defensive spells in the Room of Requirement, away from the prying eyes of possible spies. They all worked very hard.

Hermione, in particular, was faced with the challenge of conquering one of her greatest fears…flying. She absolutely hated to go flying in any way other than within the safety of a Muggle airplane. They had told her that there would be plenty to do on the ground, but Ron and Harry would be in the air, and she refused to be left behind.

Upon consideration of her phobia of broom transport, Ron was utterly perplexed. He really couldn’t understand her trust in Muggle machines. Having not grown up in a Muggle household as Hermione had done, he thought of them as a whole… a bit dodgy.

Ron’s dad had always been fascinated by all things Muggle. You’d think a bit of his obsession would rub off, but to the contrary, Ron was of the opinion that anyone who trusted a metal box run by a motor to fly them around was bordering on insanity.

This belief was only reinforced by his experience once with a Muggle car that had been bewitched to fly. It had let him and Harry down at a critical time.

Ron had apparently filed that away and applied it to all motorized machinery. His vocalization of his opinion on this particular subject led him and Hermione straight into another one of their arguments.

“Well, what if the motor is faulty? Then what? It’s not as if the Muggle driver of the…. arrow thingy could do anything to fix it, is there?” Ron had sarcastically inquired.

“First of all, it’s ‘airplane’ Ronald, and…well, actually…if there is a problem with the plane’s engine, well…then…it may be prone to…well…crash.” Hermione ended in a somewhat defeated tone.

“CRASH?! You mean fall?…all the way to the ground?” When Hermione didn’t respond, he took her silence as a yes. “Well, that’s exactly my point isn’t it? It’s just as I said then, you’d have to be daft to ride in one of those.” And feeling quite triumphant, Ron looked to Harry and added “Right Harry?”

Harry, for his part, actually agreed with Ron. He'd never flown by airplane because any time the Dursley’s had flown anywhere they certainly didn’t invite him to join them. He would be left behind with their cat loving, batty, old neighbor, Mrs. Figg.

Of course there was also the fact that Harry was never happier than when he was soaring through the air on his Firebolt, a fact that Ron knew all too well. To him there was really no comparison, but Harry was not about to admit that now. Taking his side would only lead Ron to gloat and Hermione would then be angry with Harry too.

Trying to be the diplomat and desperately wanting to stay out of it, Harry said, “I suppose it really comes down to… personal preference, doesn’t it.” Then he quickly added, “The point of the matter today though is that Hermione needs to learn to fly on a broom safely. So, if you’re finished…we’ll get on with it.”

They both looked at each other with a grimace and a huff, and then decided to move along.

They began by having her ride with them so she could get the feel for taking off and landing without having to go it alone. Then they moved onto solo flights.

She worked tirelessly with Ron, Harry, and Ginny at getting comfortable on a broom and eventually she seemed to be mastering the art of flying.

Part of Harry secretly thought that one of the only reasons she did it was to prove to Ron that she could do it…even if she did prefer planes to brooms.

That was not the only necessary preparation. They also sat up late on several nights talking about the inevitable challenge that they all faced and what they would need to do if they were to win the day.

The trio usually reserved their quiet Common room discussions for just the three of them, but under the circumstances, Neville, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, and several others had joined them on a few occasions. After all, it concerned each and every one of them.

The entire wizarding world was in extremely dark times. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said that it brought back horrible memories of the last time Voldemort had been in full power.

The Dark Mark would appear over a family member or friend’s home and what lay inside was horrific. Muggles and wizard folk alike were being slaughtered at Voldemort’s whim. It seemed the Death Eaters looked at Muggle killing especially as some sort of sadistic sport.

The prophecy about Harry and Voldemort was nearing reality. Harry could almost feel it in his soul. He knew when it came down to it, the prophecy would come to life and one would die at the other’s hand.

The moment the Death Eaters entered Hogsmeade, Harry would know exactly what he had to do.

Of course, his devoted friends Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and many of the other original members of Dumbledore’s Army would go to back him up, but in the end it would all come down to good against evil…love versus hatred.

Harry had long since accepted this fact and he was resolute. He was no longer afraid of dying.

What he was fearful about was the safety and survival of his friends and fellow wizards if he did not succeed. He even thought of the poor Muggles, who wouldn’t know what hit them if Voldemort truly got the upper hand.

It was certainly a lot of pressure for one young wizard, barely of age, but he could not allow himself to dwell on the immensity of the task. There was really no other way and Harry knew it was his responsibility. Dumbledore had made that fact quite clear.

Professor Dumbledore never intended to become so emotionally involved with the Potter’s son.

True, he had known and respected Lily and James a great deal. He had even offered to be their secret keeper years ago when they went into hiding.

Considering the circumstances, he thought it best for him to remain detached from young Harry… to keep his objectivity. As time passed, however, Dumbledore could not help but grow to admire and care for him, just as he had Harry’s parents.

It was true. Harry was very much like his father James in appearance and spirit. He also seemed to not only have his mother’s eyes, but her heart as well. He was the best of both of them and he seemed to grow more and more like them with each passing year.

This fact was repeatedly pointed out to Harry over the years, but he didn’t mind. He liked the fact that he was like his parents, although he never really knew them. It somehow made him feel closer to them.

Dumbledore, intervening when possible, watched Harry as he faced adventures that not even adult wizards had dealt with before and he was repeatedly victorious.

He had the true heart of a Gryffindor and Dumbledore grew to love and respect him as if he were family. He knew that Harry had grown strong and he had faith in him. He only hoped it would be enough.

Over the years Harry’s feelings for Dumbledore had been somewhat tumultuous to say the least. There were times that Harry completely admired and trusted the headmaster and other times where he felt abandoned by him.

As of late though, Harry and Dumbledore had begun to have frequent talks in the headmaster’s office.

During one such talk, Dumbledore offered, “Harry, you have become a great wizard and a great young man. Make no mistake. We all wish there were another way.

Anyone of the Order, myself included, would gladly die to save you from… your destiny. You need to know, however, that we have great faith in you.

Your father would be proud of you…as am I.”

Dumbledore crossed his office and stood in front of the window looking out over the grounds, then continued.

“Over the years, I know that I have not always… handled things properly where you were concerned, but I want you to know that I always did… what I thought was right.

Perhaps it was the fault of an old man’s ignorance, but I think I was trying to spare you for as long as possible from what you may face at anytime now.”

Harry moved to stand next to the headmaster.

Professor Dumbledore peered over his half moon spectacles at Harry. He then turned back towards the grounds and added, “Never allow yourself to believe for even one moment that I had forgotten about you or didn’t care about what you went through over the course of your time at the Dursley’s or your time here in my care.

I believe perhaps it was my affection for you that may have caused my poor judgment at times… and I apologize to you now.

I hope you can forgive me and begin to fully trust me again, for we need to be truly united now, more than ever. No matter what happens I want you to know how I feel. I consider myself fortunate to have gotten to know you Harry.”

Dumbledore paused and placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder as they stood looking out of the tower window of Dumbledore’s office.

Harry looked up at his headmaster. He was more than that. However angry Harry had been over the last couple of years with Dumbledore for not telling him everything, the anger was gone now.

This was his mentor, his friend, the greatest wizard Harry had ever known… and probably… the closest thing Harry had to a father since Sirius’ death.

He looked at the professor affording him a smile then said, “I think I needed to do a bit of growing up professor.

I may have been a bit thick, over the last couple of years. I didn’t understand the reasons behind your efforts and the need for secrecy, but now I know that you have always done what you have felt was best. For that, I will always be grateful.”

With that they stood in silence, for there are some moments in life that come, where words simply are no longer necessary.

It had been nearly two weeks now since the last conversation in Dumbledore’s office.

Harry knew the time was drawing nearer. He no longer took notice of the whispers and sideways glances in the school corridors. He knew what they were talking about…

Could Harry really do it? Was he capable of defeating the darkest wizard of their time? And the one that plagued Harry the most …What if he can’t?

Ron and Hermione always told him to just ignore it. They were always reassuring him that they had faith in him with Ron adding, “Besides…we’ve got your back Harry.”

Harry had a tremendous faith in his friends. They were taking their preparation for the upcoming fight very seriously and working very hard in their Defense Against the Darks Arts lessons. They also worked fervently in their D.A. sessions.

After the downfall of Professor Umbridge, ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ had consequently resumed their meetings with a renewed vigor.

Unfortunately, not everyone at Hogwarts was supportive of Harry in regard to his upcoming challenge, which was hard to understand considering how much was at stake.

Nonetheless, Harry had grown rather accustomed to hearing jeers from Draco Malfoy and his gang of devoted Slytherins.

Passing in the corridors, in the Great Hall, out on the grounds…anytime that Malfoy was sure that a professor wasn’t in ear shot, he was quick to offer his own brand of encouraging words and advice.

For instance, once he bellowed, “Hey! Scarhead! Why don’t you just drown yourself in the lake? The giant squid would probably just swallow you whole. That’s much kinder than what I know is in store for you… and probably much more than you deserve, Potty,” he had added with a sneer, while his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, sniggered stupidly beside him.

Malfoy, although quite intolerable, was not however, stupid. He never traveled alone, but was endlessly flanked instead by two mountainous idiots that were his housemates.

They also shared a family secret. Their fathers all belonged to the league of Death Eaters. Harry, himself, had seen them at it, standing hooded in the inner circle, the very night that Voldemort returned to power.

Lucius Malfoy and his own adult versions of Crabbe and Goyle thugs had been in hiding for over a year now. They only appeared briefly to do their master’s bidding and then they were gone again… untraceable.

When they did show their faces, they made no attempts at hiding their identities. Harry guessed that now that their allegiance had been discovered, they felt it useless to try to move in secret anymore. All pretenses were abandoned.

Lucius had certainly fallen out of favor with the Ministry. No amount of generous donations to the Ministry and its causes could buy his way out of this one, so, it appeared that he had ceased to care.

In addition to the terror that Lucius was inflicting throughout Britain, whatever Lucius told Crabbe and Goyle, Sr. to do, they were only too happy to oblige.

This was a characteristic that seemed to be repeating itself through the generations Harry noted grimly.

While Malfoy, Jr. was apparently, biding his time, carrying on with the part of the “good student”, Malfoy, Sr. and the other Death Eaters were openly attacking wizards and Muggles alike.

It was rumored that the Death Eaters also had an unplottable hideaway as the Order did. It only made sense, but to date, no solid intelligence about its possible whereabouts had been gathered.

Harry suspected that that was Professor Snape’s moonlighting job, his unspeakable mission for the Order. Harry felt certain that Snape was given the task of infiltrating Voldemort’s inner realm by convincing him he was just staying at Hogwarts so he could gather valuable information and keep an eye on Dumbledore.

A plan that Harry was sure Voldemort would relish.

Snape was by far Harry’s least favorite teacher at Hogwarts. That included spacey Professor Trelawney, who was always predicting Harry’s gruesome and painful death.

His hatred of Snape was undoubtedly only matched by Snape’s mutually foul feelings for Harry. Snape never missed an opportunity to make Harry’s life miserable whenever possible.

Given all the professor’s obviously negative qualities, Harry still had to admit he was probably the best man for the job.

Snape was a gifted Legilimens and Occlumens. Harry had also been forced to master the art of Occlumency after the death of his godfather.

In reality, if Harry had been more diligent in practicing before Sirius’ death, he may not have been so easily lured to the Ministry of Magic that night and Sirius may still be alive…the guilt of which Harry had lived with everyday for nearly a year and a half. Snape was asked to train Harry, but their mutual dislike for each other had made their attempts far less than successful.

The truth was though, that Snape himself was very good at it. Snape could ward off Voldemort’s attempts to pry into his mind and discover the true nature of his allegiance. He was also able to enter Voldemort’s follower’s minds undetected.

Harry often wondered if Snape had been using his talents to penetrate the young Slytherin student’s minds for information as well.

Those students whose parents where in league with the Death Eaters had the potential to be very useful and would be the least likely to fight him out of their minds, and for that matter, the most likely to be completely unable to detect his neurological invasion.

It was no longer a question it seemed of whether there were indeed spies about the castle, but who were they and how many.

Harry and the others definitely believed that not all, but at least some of the Slytherin students were either secretly gathering information for the Death Eaters or had actually already joined their foul ranks.

The dark side was growing. Some informants were obvious, like Malfoy, but they were quite sure there were others, possibly ones they would never suspect.

This made Snape’s talent for blocking others out of his mind while at the same time penetrating theirs, an even more powerful and valuable gift.

Regardless, of Snape’s talent for psychological warfare, Dumbledore’s wishes, the Orders plans, or even his friend’s loyalty, facts were facts.

The reality of it was it was no longer possible for Dumbledore or anyone else to intervene on Harry’s behalf.

He knew they would assist them where they could, but ultimately they would have to allow this teenage boy, whom they had watched grow as a wizard and a young man, meet his fate head on, and ultimately, alone.

________________________________________
Chapter 2 The Rage of Battle

It was a little over half way through September when the attacks began.

One of the Order’s contacts stationed in Hogsmeade sent word when it started, but there was really no need. They could see wand sparks and here blasts all the way at the castle.

The plan had been set long ago, so when it all began, everyone literally flew into action without hesitation.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged quick, but meaningful looks when they got the news. They left the common room and headed down to the castle entrance in front of the Great Hall.

Malfoy saw them enter as they were gathering with the others. He took that brief opportunity to get in a final dig while Dumbledore and McGonagall were in conference.

“Well, if it isn’t Potty, Weasel, and their Mudblood wench,” he said with a smirk. “Ready to die Potter?”

Harry just glared at him and Malfoy continued, “If you aren’t now…you soon will be. I’ll wager you’ll be begging for the dark lord to end it all for you by nightfall. I for one can’t wait to see it when you do.”

Harry and Hermione had to hold Ron back from tearing Malfoy apart right there in the hall. For a brief second, they entertained the thought of just letting him do it.

Hermione came to her senses though and realized that they would need to have Ron in top form. He couldn’t duel or even fight Malfoy hand to hand if he was to be of any help to Harry in the air.

Harry continued to glare at Malfoy. He was through favoring his comments with replies.

Hermione however, quickly shot at Malfoy “You’ll see who’s begging for mercy…you filthy, git of a ferret! …that is if you even have the guts to join the battle!”

Malfoy just sneered at her and shot back, “I’m going to enjoy torturing you mudblood…probably almost as much as I’m going to enjoy listening to Potter’s screams to just let him die!” Looking directly at Hermione he added, “Now that I think about it, I may just keep you around for awhile Granger, you know…for kicks.” He was looking her up and down, which was implication enough.

Again, they had to restrain Ron. As Dumbledore and McGonagall finished their whispered conversation, Malfoy lost his nerve and moved on through the crowd.

“Don’t listen to him," Hermione said. "You can do it, Harry. I know you can. You’re ready,” she told him before quickly hugging him.

Ron shook his hand and growled, “Let’s finish this.”

As they entered Hogsmeade, Harry could feel the adrenaline pumping through him. It wasn’t so much fear that he felt though, it was more like the feeling he had before a particularly important Quidditch match…tense, anxious, ready to go.

Harry and the other members of the D.A. were to mount their attack on brooms as the Order and the ministry members fought from the ground.

The plan was to distract or eliminate as many Death Eaters, Dementors, and giants as they possibly could, to give Harry a clear path to Voldemort.

This had proven to be no easy task, but finally the scales seemed to be tipping in the direction of the Order.

Many of the D.A. could now produce highly effective Patronuses, so surprisingly the Dementors had actually turned out to be the easiest of their enemies to erase from the equation.

The scene was amazing. The sheer numbers of Patronuses and the various forms that they took gave the battlefield an almost ethereal glow.

It wasn’t long before most of the Dementors had retreated. A few glided their way back into the fray periodically, for it seemed they were unable to resist mass of emotion emanating from the field. To them it was probably like sitting at a banquet and they were being repeatedly drawn to the table.

Fortunately, when they did return, they were readily dispatched again by the D.A.

The giant’s were proving to be a bit more formidable of a foe. Fortunately, although many giants remained on the side of Voldemort, Hagrid’s little brother, Grawp, had been able to persuade a handful of giants to join Dumbledore. Hagrid and Grawp had been actively trying to sway the giant’s allegiance where possible.

In some respects, Voldemort had unwittingly aided them. He wasn’t always consistent in the treatment of his servants except for one aspect. Voldemort preferred to use cruelty to keep his charges under submission. The giants were treated no differently.

As it turned out though, giants apparently tend to be less than submissive charges. They didn’t take kindly to Voldemort’s tendency at all. In fact, the giants detested it.

In the end, it seemed they either didn’t care about the reactions of the dark lord or weren’t intelligent enough to be afraid of the consequences.

To that end, they had a habit of changing sides as they saw fit. By the time the battle began, Hagrid, Madame Maxime and Grawp had recruited nearly a score of giants to fight for the Order.

The scales were certainly still not even where the giants were concerned, but those in league with Grawp had served as somewhat of an equalizer and had drawn the Voldemort’s giants away from the heart of the battle.

When giants go into battle, by any standard, it is a brutal sight to behold. They are able to give and receive painful blows that would kill most wizards instantaneously. Due to the fact that Hagrid was only half-giant, he was certainly at a disadvantage. He, like Hermione however, refused to be left behind.

He simply insisted on entering the battle alongside his brother. Hagrid felt that he had brought Grawp into this war and he was going to die by his side if it came to that.

That very pledge very nearly became reality. Hagrid came very close on several occasions to receiving mortal blows. If it weren’t for Grawp’s protection, he surely would have died on the battlefield that very day.

Grawp was guarding Hagrid ferociously. If Hagrid was in a tight spot, Grawp served as his shield, receiving the worst blows himself while deflected them from Hagrid. He had on more than one occasion fought off on-coming attackers while Hagrid positioned himself to better defend himself.

With the Dementors dispersed and the giants distracted, that left the Death Eaters and the Order to duel it out on the ground while Harry and the D.A. went after Voldemort in an aerial assault.

The members of the Order, led by Dumbledore, were an astonishing sight. Harry had never realized that there were so many of them. Obviously, from the variety of robes they wore, they had traveled from all over the world to join the cause.

As Harry and the D.A. took to the skies, a battle, the likes of which they never been seen before, had begun on the ground.

Wand blasts were flaring in every direction as Dumbledore ordered Harry to go. Harry was to be flanked on all sides by Ron, Hermione, and most of the D.A. They were to provide a flying brigade of protection for him.

While Harry dueled with Voldemort, he could hear curses and counter curses coming from the members of the D.A. to assist him throughout the battle. Unfortunately, these attempts usually resulted with the D.A. member either being hit by a counter curse thrown at them by a Death Eater, or worse, from Voldemort.

They held their own as long as possible, fighting bravely and fiercely, but the fact remained that they were still only students. They seemed to be serving as only a temporary deterrent for their enemies and were beginning to falter in their attempts.

In the end, it was surreal.

The battlefield lay strewn with members of the D.A. and Order, as well as a scattering of defeated Death Eaters. Harry glanced around quickly and saw that most of the D.A. members in fact had been eliminated from the battle at this point.

He peered toward the ground, but was unable to make out the faces of the robed figures waging war below him. His entire body was aching.

He was quite sure he'd broken a rib. The weightlessness of flying was the only thing that allowed his body to keep going. He was certain that if he were on the ground, he would be of little use on his feet.

He knew he had to do something fast or it would not be Voldemort, who died, but Harry and all of his friends… all of the people he loved.

Harry struggled to regain his concentration. He needed to remain focused on the here and now. He didn't have the luxury of contemplating the future or even what was happening right below him.

He needed to place all of his strength and will into the task at hand…kill or be killed. There were no options now.

The battle raged on and Harry had just dodged yet another blast from Voldemort’s wand. As Harry had learned, Voldemort’s wand was the brother of his very own beloved wand. Just as he and Voldemort were joined by a curse, in a strange twist of fate, so it seemed, were their wands. Put into simple terms, this made fighting very difficult.

Voldemort had returned as strong as he had ever been, but now, Harry wasn’t merely a baby, or barely a year old, as he was the last time Voldemort came after him in full power. In fact, Harry had become a very powerful wizard himself.

Harry also had one thing that Voldemort didn’t …a desire to save the ones he loved.

Voldemort thought love was a wasted and useless emotion. He couldn’t understand it and this made it difficult for him to guard against its advantages.

Voldemort on the other hand, had hatred and revenge to fuel him, which also proved to be a formidable power.

So, it seemed to come down to the wands. The wands were apparently resisting the task of battling one another. The wand’s brotherhood was preventing them from landing any solid curses.

It seemed that this could go on forever as the fighting continued for hours. Harry robes were drenched in sweat and they clung uncomfortably to his body. He was tiring. Fortunately, Harry could tell that he was also beginning to wear down his enemy as well.

Harry looked around at his friends again as they flanked him. They were rotating positions in turn, swooping all around him. Together, they formed a funnel-like configuration with Harry at its center.

The D.A. was given the task as serving as his guard. They were, at all costs, to protect Harry. They were to shield him long enough to allow him to attack and, if successful, defeat Voldemort. They were to ward off Dementors, Death Eaters, and anything else that endangered the mission.

It had to be successful. If they failed, all would be lost. Harry saw that at least Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville had managed to continue the fight. Seeing his friends had bolstered his energy.

He also saw that Fred and George Weasley had mounted their brooms as reinforcements for the D.A. Ron’s twin brothers were full-fledged Order members now, but Harry believed that no doubt Dumbledore had directed them to the skies. Given their experience as fliers, and their undeniable gift for curses, they would be welcome additions to the brigade.

Suddenly, Harry and the others heard three loud cracking noises. It gave them all quite a start.

Of course, they had been hearing blasts and other battle noises from the beginning, but this was different. It was much too close, as if it came from the sky.

It sounded a little like wizards Apparating, but the sounds were so loud, it couldn’t have been…could it?

Ron, spotting Fred and George, circled them and shouted, “What the bloody hell was that?”

George swooped over closer to Ron, “Not to worry little brother, Charlie and his mates have just arrived from Romania.” George had a bit of a sly grin on his face and one eyebrow raised.

Ron’s other twin brother, Fred, came swooping past in turn and added with a smirk, “Yeah, I expect that will be…let’s just say… a bit of a shock for you-know-who’s lot.”

Ron’s eyes were as big as crumpets and his mouth was gaping.

Seeing his brother’s shock, and enjoying the moment, George matter-of-factly added, “He’s a bit late though. I guess he wanted to make a bit of an entrance. Do you think he succeeded?”

With that, they rejoined formation and began throwing curses in every direction.

Harry, having seen the exchange between Ron and the twins yelled to Ron, “What’s happened? What was all that noise?”

Without a word, but grinning from ear to ear, Ron directed Harry to look over his shoulder.”

Glancing around quickly, he then stopped dead in the air and took a second look. Then returning his attention to Ron with a huge grin on his face as well, Harry simply responded, “Bloody hell!”

“Yeah, I know. Wicked, isn’t it!” Ron shot back.

What they had seen was Ron’s older brother Charlie and two of his friends from Romania. They had just apparated into the air over the battle raging below, but they weren’t exactly alone.

Charlie and his mates were soaring through the air but they weren’t on brooms, they were mounted on three rather testy-looking Norwegian Ridgeback dragons.

As they boys scanned the ground below them, they could just make out small figures running in every direction as Charlie’s lot began making fiery passes over the Death Eaters.

Hermione flew in closer almost laughing and simply said, “Beautiful night for a fire, don’t you think?”

“Oh definitely…very pleasant indeed,” Ron responded with a playful wink and then added, “Well, back to work I suppose.” and with that they were off again.

Harry was left with a smile on his face and a renewed sense of strength. He was beginning to really believe…they could do this. They could really end it all…today.

He felt a deep sense of pride in the bravery of all of his friends and in the fact that they had each become very powerful wizards in their own right. Never, in their wildest dreams, could any of them have imagined on that first train ride to Hogwarts, where they would be on this night. None of them had asked for this. None of them deserved to live it, but here they all were…united in a cause…ready to die for each other.

All of this had raced through his mind in seconds. He knew he could not let them down.

Harry willed himself to press on, flying faster and more erratically to try to throw off Voldemort’s aim and concentration. Harry was a great flier, there was no question. That fact explained why Dumbledore had devised this aerial assault. The hope was that being airborne, where Harry was at home would give him an edge.

Harry turned toward Voldemort once again for yet another pass on his Firebolt to try to somehow gain the upper hand. However, his thoughts of the love of his friends distracted Harry enough to allow a blast from a wand on the ground to hit.

Harry swerved at the last second and the broom took the brunt of the blast, but it did serve to throw him off balance. In that small window of opportunity, Voldemort had struck.

Harry veered to the left just in time to avoid the majority of the latest curse, but Voldemort had succeeded in knocking Harry’s wand from his hand and it was now falling freely to the ground.

Harry was just about to yell Accio wand to recover it when Ron came plummeting out of nowhere to shield him with his own body.

Voldemort laughed at the stupid sacrifice of the teenage boy. He thought it preposterous that Ron would do something that was, in Voldemort’s mind, so thick. He laughed even more when Hermione, in Voldemort’s approximation… a mere girl, shot over and flew directly in front of them both at the last second.

Both Hermione and Ron were blasted off their brooms by the curse. Harry was stunned. It had all happened so fast. Harry shouted to the others for help. His pleas for help were unnecessary because Ginny was already there.

Ginny, Harry thought, next to Ron and Hermione, had grown the most in his eyes.

She had matured both as a wizard and a person. She was independent, confident, and strong. From observing her with her brothers and various boys she dated, Harry also knew she was not one to be crossed. After all, she seemed to take after her twin brothers Fred and George, who were known for their talent for curses.

Having been possessed by Voldemort in her first year at Hogwarts, she was probably the only other person that could come close to truly imagining what Harry had lived through all these years. Harry felt connected to her because of it.

He had developed a deep admiration for her over the last couple of years. They had formed a bond of sorts through their experiences fighting Voldemort. He had saved her from the Chamber of Secrets and Voldemort’s possession in his second year.

She had also accompanied him to the Ministry of Magic in his 5th year without a second thought to help him find Sirius. Harry had talked to her later about why she had gone when it had been so utterly dangerous.

She had told him that “I believed you needed to go Harry, and I believe in you. I know you were doing what you had to do.” then she added, “Besides, I owe you not only my life, but also the life of my father. For that matter, Ron may not be here either if it weren’t for you. I’d go anywhere with you if I could repay even a portion of that debt.”

Even when times were calmer, they still spent more time than usual together. After all, she was his best friends little sister.

The fact that Harry had no family to speak of, at least family that wanted to speak of him, meant that he not only saw her at school, but also at the Burrow during summers and holidays. Harry felt they definitely had a connection on several levels.

Now, at that very moment, she was again fighting bravely from his flank. Ginny had been watching the movements of her brother and Hermione. She saw their dire situation and had swooped in from the left to defend them.

She'd deflected the majority of the blast with a counter curse, but it was too strong for her to stop completely.

Ron and Hermione were both falling to the ground lifeless.

Ginny had managed to slow them down before they hit the ground, much as Dumbledore had done at a Quidditch game in Harry’s 3rd year.

The Dementors had entered the grounds of the school and had caused Harry to fall some 50 feet to the surface of the pitch below. Now, seeing Ron and Hermione disappearing from view, Harry felt an intense anger swell in him, the likes of which he had never felt. That was really saying something considering what he had been through and all that he had lost in his lifetime at Voldemort’s hand.

Voldemort had taken his parents, his godfather, and many of his friends now lay below on the ground… some of which Harry knew would not survive. This was too much…not Ron and Hermione…it just couldn’t be.

As much as he wanted to, he had no time to go to them now. His love for them, and his coursing anger, fueled his strength. He had even forgotten about his wand.

Suddenly, he realized he didn’t need it.

This had happened to Harry on a few occasions before in his life. Once as a young child on a visit to the zoo, he released a snake that seemed to go after his cousin Dudley before slithering away. Harry had done this very much by accident and hadn’t even realized at that point that he was in fact a wizard and not just Harry.

On another occasion, he had blown up his Aunt Marge by simply thinking about it. In that instant, it was the love of his parents, whom she had been verbally degrading, that caused his anger, and in turn, his power to swell. It appeared that this was something similar to those times, but he felt very much in control this time over what he was doing.

He attacked swiftly and directly at Voldemort’s heart. The dark lord was taken aback at the power that lay in Harry’s hands, in Harry’s heart.

“This is not possible!’ Voldemort bellowed as he winced.

His expression told Harry that he was actually beginning to fear Harry, as he watched the life begin to leak out of his opponent. The end did not come easily.

Voldemort continued to fight. At this point though, his magic seemed to be significantly less powerful than Harry’s, for Harry’s magic was no longer coming from his wand, but from his heart and the very soul of his being.

This was something Voldemort could not understand or defend against. Harry was not fighting for himself, but for the lives of his friends and family who had suffered and died at the hands of the dark lord.

In the end, Harry’s last blast was the killing curse.

It was the same curse that Voldemort used on Harry’s parents, on Cedric and countless others. It hit home on a weakened Voldemort whose body glowed green. The glow began to erupt from his very heart.

Death didn’t seem to just wash over him the way it had Cedric when Voldemort abducted he and Harry from the Tri-Wizard tournament by Portkey. This was different. He began shaking uncontrollably and then he violently exploded from the inside out.

Voldemort completely disintegrated in a blaze of green fire. Harry was blasted backward from the intensity of the explosion.

He slowly regained his bearings and looked around for any sign that Voldemort had tricked him, but when none came he turned on his Firebolt and headed for the ground at full speed, eyes stinging against the rush of wind.

Harry flew down to Ron and Hermione.

The pain that Harry had ceased to feel when his anger had taken over was now returning with a vengeance. Harry was not only totally exhausted, but also completely overcome by emotions concerning the lives of his best friends.

It was too much. His body and mind would allow no more.

Harry collapsed on the ground and lay unconscious at their sides. Whatever happened in battle after that went on without Harry.

________________________________________
Chapter 3: The Aftermath

Harry awoke in hospital nearly a week later. He discovered to his great relief that the war was in fact over. Voldemort was gone forever.

Sadly, before Voldemort’s defeat, he and his Death Eaters had managed to take down several members of the Order, as well as some members of the Ministry of Magic, who finally believed the worst to be true.

They all knew from the start, that this battle would not come without losses, and it had come to pass, as they feared it would, it had been a swift and brutal attack.

Voldemort’s downfall was a fact, but Harry was having difficulty fathoming how different his life could be now that Voldemort was gone.

No more Voldemort, no more Dursleys, no more living in fear of the next attempt on his life or the lives of his loved ones…at least not by Voldemort himself.

He had lived with that hanging over him for the better part of seven years and it was taking awhile for it to really sink in that that horrible part of his life was truly behind him.

Unfortunately, this did not mean that all evil wizards were eliminated from their world, but for now they were without a lord to guide them and without a plan. Many of the remaining Death Eaters had fled at the defeat of their leader.

It appeared that when Harry defeated Voldemort, many of them ran in fear. Some had been left dumbstruck that “that boy” had actually killed, in their opinion, the most powerful wizard of all time.

In their disbelief they were caught off guard. Some had been captured and there were also those whom had not survived the battle.

Many members of the Order were also among the casualties. Harry knew at least two of the fallen Order members personally.

Tonks and Shacklebolt had on more than one occasion come to Harry’s side in his defense. They died bravely in battle, but not without taking several death eaters with them first.

Harry felt some pangs of guilt at his relief that it had not been Remus Lupin, his only real remaining tie to his parents.

Draco Malfoy and some of his gang had openly supported Voldemort in battle. He had disappeared somewhere during the fight and hadn’t been seen since.

Harry suspected that no doubt things had gotten too intense for Malfoy, Crabb and Goyle. At that point, Malfoy did what he always did...abandoned the others to save his own skin… for he left behind several other Slytherin students to face capture or perhaps even death.

That was not to say that he wasn’t out there biding his time with his father and the other surviving Death Eaters, but he too had tipped his hand and was just as much a fugitive now as his dad.

Hagrid had been aiding the giants that were fighting for Dumbledore. He and his half-brother, Grawp, had fought side by side. Grawp was a full-blooded giant. In spite of the fact that giants tend not to form strong relationships with others, they had definitely bonded and were truly brothers.

In the end, it was Grawp who died defending Hagrid. Hagrid was badly injured, but was now recovering, at least from his physical injuries. Aiding Hagrid’s recovery was none other than Madame Maxime of Beaubaxton’s and it was progressing rather well. Incidentally, she was no longer renouncing her giantess bloodline.

Most of the professors had survived, with the exception of Professors’ Flitwick and Sinistra. Harry had never felt very close the Professor Sinistra, but Professor Flitwick had openly supported them in their 5th year as they tried to undermine Professor Umbridge’s attempts to dominate the school.

He even gave the swamp that Fred and George Weasley had conjured a museum-like place of honor when Umbridge was gone.

He had simply stated that, “it was just a very good bit of magic”, but they all knew it was to pay homage to two of Hogwarts biggest mischief-makers in their finest hour.

Harry had always held a special admiration for Flitwick after that. In battle, the professors both died defending Dumbledore himself.

Dumbledore looked older and weaker than Harry had ever seen him, but nonetheless, he had survived.

The entire Weasley family had joined the fight. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, along with Bill and Percy had dueled from the ground with the Order.

Ron, Ginny, Charlie, and the twins had been part of the air assault team. They were all somewhat battered and bruised.

Percy, incidentally, had acquired a rather nasty burn and had most of the hair singed off the back of his head. Bill had of course apologized profusely for the near miss with the dragon fire, but Harry had a sneaky suspicion that it hadn’t been a total accident. After all, Percy had complained that he hadn’t been standing anywhere near a Death Eater at the time.

Harry suspected that the stray dragon fire was in fact Charlie’s attempt at a bit of payback, for Percy’s turncoat behavior prior to returning to the Weasley fold.

Mrs. Weasley must have shared Harry’s suspicions, because he had overheard her telling Charlie off in the hospital corridor. All he could make out was “dragon” and “could have been killed”, but he figured he didn’t need to hear the rest.

All in all the Weasley family had come away with various levels of injuries, but much to Harry’s relief, they were basically unscathed.

That was of course, with the exception of Ron. Ron had dove in front of Harry to protect him and took a rather nasty blast of a curse.

The Weasley’s hadn’t blamed Harry for Ron’s injuries. In fact, they commended him for taking the opportunity that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had given him to defeat the dark lord, once and for all.

They were proud of Ron. Even Fred and George admitted he had come through in the clutch. They had always enjoyed picking on Ron. Next to Quidditch and picking on Percy, it was a favorite sport for them growing up. Now it seemed they viewed Ron as an equal. It was as much as any one of them would have done, if they had been in Ron or Hermione’s place, and they told Harry as much.

Ron didn’t wake up for another full week after Harry. Harry had been so worried that he sat day and night at his bedside at St. Mungo’s after he, himself, was strong enough to do so.

The only time he left Ron’s side was to sit with his other best friend. Hermione, who had taken the worst of Voldemort’s curse, had shown very little, if any change, since her arrival at the hospital. Harry ached with guilt at the sacrifice Ron and Hermione had made on his behalf, although he knew he’d have done the same for them without a single second of hesitation.

They had willingly offered their lives in exchange for Harry’s.

When Ron finally came ‘round Harry was beside himself with relief and joy. So much so that he openly hugged his best friend as his tears welled up.

“I’m alright mate…,” Ron had awkwardly said as Harry hugged him.

Harry’s happiness began to ebb away when he realized that only part of his waiting had ended. It was then that he remembered and realized that he had to tell Ron about Hermione.

Ron sat and listened and was speechless for a full minute. To Harry’s surprise, he then grew angry. At first Harry thought Ron was upset with him for letting Hermione shield him, but as it turned out, he was actually angry with Hermione… and Harry suspected… himself.

“What the bloody hell was she thinking!” Ron yelled. “She never should have blocked Voldemort for me! I was to be you’re barrier! She and I had agreed beforehand…if it came to that. She was not to interfere, unless, of course… I was already dead.” Ron had said matter of factly.

Harry was in a stunned silence for a minute before he asked, “Hang on …you mean, you planned to die shielding me?” Ron just looked at him with a ‘what did you think I’d do’ look on his face and finally said ”well… yeah.”

“And Hermione and you had agreed you’d die first, and then, and only then, she’d step in?”

Again Ron responded ratherly lamely…”Yeah.”

“Why didn’t I know about this… agreement?” Harry demanded, getting a little angry himself.

“Well, we knew you’d never agree to it would you, and it had to be done. We were fighting for more than just ourselves weren’t we? You had to succeed! Let’s face it Harry, our survival wasn’t really… necessary… or at least it wasn’t as important as yours was.”

As upset and Harry was, he realized that what Ron was saying was actually true.

They had been fighting for all wizards and muggles alike.

Dumbledore had told his friends to defend him at all costs, and they took that responsibility very, very seriously.

Harry began “Ron…I don’t know what to say. I can never repay you and Hermione for what you …."

Ron cut him off “Repay?!? Hell Harry…you saved the world !! I think that’s thanks enough for any act…don’t you? …especially between mates. What would you have done in our situation?”

Harry just looked at his friend thinking to himself that he’d have definitely done the same.

Then eventually they both began to smile and Ron said, “It’s over Harry. It’s really over!”

The two friends sat in silence grinning for a few more seconds until, having been alerted of Ron’s change in condition, the entire Weasley clan entered Ron’s hospital ward and began to smother him with hugs and kisses.

Mrs. Weasley began to cry on Mr. Weasley’s shoulder. Ginny went over to Ron’s bedside, quickly hugged him and left the ward.

Harry had stepped back with a broad grin on his face to let all of Ron’s brothers in to slap Ron on the back or punch him in the arm…as only brothers would.

Even Percy had realized his mistakes in the end and had been allied with the Order. The whole Weasley family was united, and now that Ron was awake and recovering, the family was again complete.

Harry was beginning to feel a little like an intruder, although he knew they looked on him as part of their family too. He had overheard Mrs. Weasley once say he was as good as a son to her. Her words had made him swell with gratitude and it only deepened his love for spending time at the Burrow with his “family.”

Nonetheless, he thought they might like a little time alone. Harry saw Ginny leave the room and decided to follow her. He wanted to make sure she was ok. Besides, Professor Dumbledore had told him that Ginny had in fact spent a good bit of time at Harry’s bedside while he was unconscious.

What with worrying about Ron and Hermione, he had never taken the time over the last week to thank her. He thought this would be a good time to do that.

He found Ginny just outside Ron’s room. She was leaning against the wall and she was trembling. There were tears in her eyes, but she seemed to be willing them not to fall.

Harry looked at her for a few seconds.

“Ginny?”

He spoke her name, about to ask if she was alright.

At that moment, she threw herself onto Harry and wrapped her arms around him burying her face in his chest. She was sobbing uncontrollably.

He held her for a few minutes, softly rubbing her back, letting her pour out her pent up emotions. Then he said soothingly.

“It’s going to be ok now, Ginny…it’s over now. Ron is awake and he is going to be fine.”

Ginny slowly drew back from him and spoke through her choked tears…”I’ve… been… so worried… Harry. I haven’t… slept… properly for weeks. Between Ron… and you… I didn’t know what to do with myself. “

Suddenly her expression changed from desperation to what appeared to be anger. He'd seen this emotional shift in a Weasley before…Ron tended to suddenly change tracks under stress as well.

She was fighting to steady her breathing and continued, “ Why wasn’t I…stronger? I should have done better at blocking… that curse! My brother almost died because I was too… weak! Poor Hermione is still… still fighting to come back to us! All because… of me!”

Harry was astonished at Ginny’s confession of guilty feelings. After he collected himself he responded, not meaning to, but raising his voice a little too, “Ginny! Is that what you really think ?! You saved all of our lives with your quick reaction time. You were on it before I could even call for your help! Voldemort had knocked my wand away. I felt helpless. You saved us all! Don’t you ever think this is your fault…not ever! Do you hear me Ginerva Weasley?”

They stood frozen for a few seconds looking at each other. His words seemed to be sinking in and they calmed her a little.

“Now, come here,” he said in a more soothing voice, as he gently drew her back into his arms and then in a whisper, he breathed in her ear. “We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, Gin, and that’s the honest truth. I’m really proud of you. You’re strong…. and independent… and quite a powerful wizard yourself. “ Then looking at her he added, “ I actually came out here to thank you.”

Ginny responded with an odd quizzical look, so Harry continued.

“I wanted to thank you for your help in battle and for staying by my side in the hospital.”

It seemed to Harry that Ginny was beginning to flush pink in the face and it wasn’t from crying.

“How did you know about that?” she asked quickly. “Well…Dumbledore told me…”was Harry’s response.

He was a little surprised that she appeared to be embarrassed that he had found out, as though it had been her secret.

“Well….I was really worried about you…and Ron,” she added as almost an afterthought.

“Well,” Harry said with a small grin on his face, “I’m glad I had you in my corner.”

She smiled at his words and seemed to relax a bit. Harry was looking into her eyes. He still had his arms around her and was absentmindedly, softly stroking her back and shoulders.

It was like he was just seeing her properly for the very first time.

Even though she was his best friends little sister, it was easy to see that she wasn’t really little anymore. In fact she had grown quite beautiful he had thought.

He was having quite an internal struggle at the moment and becoming all too aware of how close they were standing to each other.

Beginning to feel a little nervous at the thoughts running through his mind about his mate’s younger sister, he said “So…shall we go back in and see Ron then?”

Ginny looked slightly disappointed then sighed “Yeah, …ok…”

Although it didn’t really sound to Harry like she wanted to end what seemed to be happening between the two of them at that moment.

In actuality, neither did Harry.

His problem was that he’d run out of things to say and their silence was starting to feel extremely intimate. Like each was waiting for the other to say or do something more.

Harry had had a strong urge to lean down and kiss her. He mastered the impulse when he remembered the last time he had kissed a girl. It had been nearly two years since the kiss in the Room of Requirement.

It wasn’t that Harry hadn’t had an interested in dating other girls in the meantime, but unfortunately his circumstances didn’t allow much time for romantic pursuits.

Then, there was also the fact that, frankly some girls were too afraid. They believed that dating him placed them in the direct path of unnecessary danger.

Now, as he remembered kissing Cho after the D.A. meeting that night, he thought of the fact that she’d been crying too, and that certainly didn’t end well. He didn’t want a repeat of that disaster.

He decided that if anything were to happen between he and Ginny, the right moment would come.

He’d know it when it did...right? …at least he hoped he would.

So, Harry opened the door instead and made a motion for Ginny to go first adding “After you.” with a bit of a smile.

She'd collected herself by then and returned his smile then led the way. They returned to the room to the sound of laughter and happy chatter.

________________________________________
Chapter 4 The Return to Hogwarts

Their feelings of happiness were rather short lived because one fact had remained. Hermione was still lost to them.

Drifting in what appeared to be a dreamless state of sleep, she was to be transferred from St. Mungo’s to the hospital wing at Hogwart’s.

Madame Pomfrey said the reason she was being transferred was that, honestly, there was no real medical reason for her continued comatose state.

It was like her mind hadn’t caught up with the fact that her body had healed and it just simply refused to let her wake up.

This was both encouraging and discouraging at the same time because the doctors had said she could wake up at any time or sleep endlessly…only time would tell.

Ron’s doctor, with Mrs. Weasley’s support, insisted that Ron stay another day or two at St. Mungo’s Hospital and rest.

It was decided that Harry would return to Hogwarts immediately to be with Hermione. They didn’t want her to be alone.

Her parents visited her as much as they could, but it was hard for them to get away for long periods of time from their dentistry practice. They had been alternating visits every two or three days and were being kept informed daily by owl post of her condition.

They had requested that she be allowed to remain in London, but it had been virtually out of the question. Due to the fact that she was not really in need of any specialized healing, that only St. Mungo’s could provide, and the fact that there were many other injured wizards from the battle that were, frankly they needed the bed.

The Grangers had only made the request in the first place because they knew it would be even harder for them to visit her now that she would no longer be in London.

The trip to Hogwarts muggle-style was long and rather treacherous. They’d also have to be given special permission because of all of the anti-muggle wards on the castle and the village nearby.

If they went on their own, they’d never find it…even if they were standing right outside the main gates.

When Hermione was transferred to the castle’s hospital wing Harry accompanied her to her new bed. The first two days were long, but Ginny stopped by a few times to keep him company and this helped the time to go by faster. She and Harry were always able to talk easily, at least since Ginny had given up her crush on him in her third year.

Ginny developed a crush on Harry the first time she saw him, but according to Hermione, she had moved on…a fact that Harry secretly was not so grateful for now perhaps.

Nonetheless, talking to Ginny wasn’t like talking with other girls. When Harry was with Ginny he was comfortable. He didn’t get tongue-tied or search for silly small talk to fill the gaps of silence.

They were friends. They had spent lots of time together playing Quidditch and spending holidays together…They had lots of material to pull from so very few silences dotted their conversations. Harry really enjoyed her company, but this was the one subject he was having trouble broaching with her it seemed.

Just spending time with her made him feel happy. That was enough for Harry…at least for now.

________________________________________
Chapter 5 The New Guard

When Ron was finally released from St. Mungo’s, he and Harry began taking shifts at Hermione’s bedside.

Madame Pomfrey had long since given up any hopes of trying to usher them out at the end of visiting hours. They simply refused to leave her.

Eventually, Professor Dumbledore gave them special permission to enter the hospital wing and stay with Hermione at any time of the day or night. It was useless to try to restrict their visitations anyway. He knew that they wouldn’t stay away. Even if it meant they had to go under the cover of Harry’s invisibility cloak, they would stay by her side.

He respected their loyalty and knew how they felt about Hermione. The fact was Dumbledore had thought it would be rather cruel to try to force them out. He decided it wasn’t a cause he could get behind. He chose to help them instead.

Now that the war had ended, Professor Dumbledore and the members of the Order, as well as the Ministry of Magic, felt it was important to return to normalcy as much as possible.

They needed to begin to pick up the pieces and start to heal. So, unbelievingly to the students, classes were to resume at Hogwarts.

They reopened the school year with the annual Halloween Feast.

Professor Dumbledore gave a moving speech to honor all those individuals who had fallen and commend all those who helped bring their victory.

Classes were to resume the first week of November. He announced that lessons were to be abridged to fit the remaining time in the terms.

Surprisingly, Professor McGonagall actually followed this order. When the