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Harry Potter and the Fifth Element by Bexis
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Harry Potter and the Fifth Element

Bexis

Wherein Neville replaces Harry; Dumbledore departs; Harry and Ron arrive; a battle is fought; casualties are suffered; a confession occurs, then another rescue; then the rescuers need rescuing; Jazzy's friendship pays off, and an exorcism is conducted.

Thanks once again to betas Mark Gardiner, Shane, Mathiasgranger, and Chris Backus.

We're in the home stretch now.

Disclaimer: I neither own nor claim any other rights in the characters and other concepts created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money, nor do I seek any commercial advantage from this work. As such it constitutes "Fair Use" as defined in 17 U.S.C. §107.

Chapter 86 - Jagged Edges

Neville had half hoped - half expected - that Dumbledore would immediately cancel their expedition once he, not Harry, appeared on the Headmaster's doorstep.

The old man did not work that way.

Instead, the serenely imperturbable old wizard characteristically took this unexpected last-minute change of plans in his stride. "Does Mister Potter's unavailability have to do with Miss Granger's absence?" was the Headmaster's first question.

Upon receiving an affirmative response - followed by a negative answer to what Neville might know of Harry's current whereabouts - Dumbledore calmly, almost fatalistically, accepted Neville's impromptu substitution.

"I wish Mister Potter the best of luck, then."

Without hesitation, he pronounced Neville to be a "commendable stand-in." They had little time to lose, Dumbledore explained. An essential link in Voldemort's eventual destruction beckoned this evening - accessible only at low spring tide.

The Headmaster quickly removed a nondescript notebook from his desk drawer and scratched a couple of notations into it, not revealing their contents to Harry's replacement. Returning his quill to its holder, the wizened wizard took two rectangular turquoise-shaded pieces of paper from a different desk drawer. He placed them in an envelope that he in turn slipped between the pages of the notebook.

Dumbledore stated laconically, "We have a dangerous mission to undertake. I can only trust in Mister Potter's judgment as to where his presence is most essential."

Summoning his travelling cloak, the Headmaster announced placidly, "It is time to depart. Come; let us acquire our fraction of a soul, whilst Mister Potter attempts to make whole his own. Time and tide wait for no man."

* * * *

"…That's bloody crazy! I can't just stop it willy-nilly! I'm having enough trouble as it is. He's run off - after her, no less. If I give it up now … I lose him…." Ginny's cascading flood-current of a tirade ebbed to a tearful trickle.

"No, that's just the point, Gee-Vee."

Only he could call her that and get away with it.

"If you don't stop, you lose not only him, but potentially … everything." Bill shuddered. "You have to…. What was that?"

"It felt cold." Ginny responded, momentarily distracted from Bill's discontinued line of thought. "I have to what?"

"Not only must you stop, you absolutely, positively have to tell him," Bill declared, rising from his tattered deckchair to emphasise his point. "Like Mum did with Dad. You have to trust in what's good…. Whoa! There it is again. Feels like winter's coming early."

"I want to, Bill, but not yet," Ginny pleaded. "He's not settled in, and he has all these other damn slags after him. That's not like Dad at all. Look, we have another year before Harry graduates … I promise by then … ooh…. There it is again. That was freezing. I think I have to go back, now…."

"But I told you that over the summer…."

The final, frigid sensation guided Ginny back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered, and then popped wide open once she saw a pale face staring at her from, literally, centimetres away. The face's owner had one icy arm stuck down - or through - Ginny's throat. Ginny's companion's other arm was emphatically signalling for silence, tapping her forefinger vigorously against her lips.

"Shhhh, they're out there," Moaning Myrtle whispered. "Don't let them hear that you're awake."

Ginny took a deep breath … and for once had the good sense to say nothing. She looked around frantically and realised that, after being Stunned by someone whilst discussing her Harry problems with Draco, she was now stuffed into a stall in the nearby abandoned girls' loo. "Who's out there?" she asked almost soundlessly, following the ghost's caution.

"Two boys," Myrtle hissed. "The skinnier, dark-haired one Stunned you. This pair follow around that awful, obnoxious blond they call `Drake' and do whatever he says…."

"Draco?" Ginny mouthed.

"…but he wasn't happy when you showed up, Weaselette."

"What?!" Ginny reacted and almost gave away the game.

"That's what they call you, isn't it?" Myrtle disclosed slyly.

"They better not…."

"They're up to no good. Shhhh … listen…."

"How do you know?"

"Believe me, I know."

The pair in the stall listened to the pair out by the sinks.

"…was nothing. Nobody here but Potter's slag, and I Stupefied her but good."

"Great, now I'm hearing things. I tell you," Cambo complained. "I'm getting right nervous about all this. How much longer you reckon we've to wait?"

"You heard Drake," Spott reminded his co-minion. "Half-hour, tops. Then all we have to do is lay low and sneak back to Slytherin House in the confusion."

"But somebody else could show up, with this thing wide open," Cambo fretted. "I don't fancy Stunning anybody else, like Filch."

"He's a Squib. With the door magicked shut, I doubt it," Spott reassured. "At least Potter killed that damn Basilisk. The one thing I wouldn't fancy meeting would be some giant snake crawling out of that big hole…."

That only raised another of Cambo's worries. "Speaking of Potter, if he shows up looking for his bitch, I don't think even Drake's Colloportus could keep him out…."

And so it went.

Soon Ginny had heard enough. Something was amiss - very much amiss, and whatever it was, Malfoy was involved … just like last year with Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

"Can you create a diversion?" Ginny whispered to Myrtle.

Myrtle grinned for the first time in weeks, if not months. "I thought you'd never ask."

Ginny felt one last wave of shuddering frigidity as Myrtle passed through her and down the toilet pipe. With her wandtip just touching the stall's lock, Ginny pressed her ear to the door.

With a wailing shriek Moaning Myrtle burst forth from the toilet closest to the two Slytherins. "AAYYYEEEE!!" Simultaneously with her appearance, all of the bowls in the bathroom violently overflowed - including, unfortunately, the one just behind Ginny.

"Aloho-MORA." Ginny tried unsuccessfully to be quiet, but a spray of cold water soaked her from behind. The stall's door flew open, slamming hard against the partition with a loud crack, ruining the element of surprise.

It hardly mattered. Spott and Cambo - thoroughly distracted - never had much chance to react.

With the speed and determination of an avenging fury, Ginny felled Spott with Petrificus Totalus. Cambo tried bolting for the door before vengeance struck him, but slipped on the wet floor. He was put down with a ferocious Bat Bogey Hex.

Carrying on, just as she had with the Inquisitorial Squad almost exactly a year earlier, Ginny vanished both of the unfortunate boys' clothes and conjured stout ropes that bound the two fast enough that their limbs went chalky white. "That should handle those creeps," Ginny said to nobody in particular, before she turned….

…and stared into the maw of her worst nightmare.

The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets yawned, wide open, not three metres away - as black as a pit.

Oh, Merlin!

She had disappeared into that abyss before - when Tom had possessed her. Then, Harry had rescued her. Several weeks ago, when Harry had decided to go public with his Basilisk heroics, she had viewed his complete memory of the event.

No Basilisk remained, but neither did Harry. He was not available to rescue her again, should she need it.

And she might.

Now she heard noises - sounding like faint shouts - coming from the depths of that horrible hole. She shook to her very core. The echoes grew in intensity. Something very bad was about to happen.

She had to get out of here! She had to tell Dumbledore, McGonagall, somebody … anybody….

Ginny turned on her heel and dashed for the door, but like Cambo before her, she lost her footing on the wet, timeworn marble floor. She went sprawling just as the mouth of the tunnel began spewing forth a horde of Dark wizards.

Rolling to one side, Ginny was ready to defend herself. "Diffindo!" Her spell cleaved the leading Death Eater's broomstick cleanly in two. The masked, black-robed wizard crashed to the floor and slid into the far wall with an audible thud.

Her strike prompted a salvo of return curses, but except for a Cutting Curse that just nicked Ginny's side, they all went high.

Ginny fired a Heating Charm at the wet floor and, instantly, a fog of steam provided her with just enough cover….

"Reducto!" she cried with a sweeping wand movement. An entire wall of stalls exploded and collapsed in a heap. Before the Death Eaters could react, Ginny dove behind the resultant barricade.

Incoming curses - at least a dozen - crashed ineffectively one after another into the pile of debris.

With Death Eaters, it was only a matter of time. "Avada…."

"No, I forbid it," a coldly familiar voice commanded. "It would not do to kill her."

Snape's voice.

But why?

Ginny had no time to think. Another volley of curses - none of them Unforgivable - once again blasted the disintegrating rubble that concealed her.

With a shriek, Moaning Myrtle sent another shower of filthy water at the crowd of Death Eaters. Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Ginny dove behind the central pier of sinks. "Kinitecus!" Ginny propelled the shattered remains of the stalls at the Death Eaters. Hunkered down behind the sinks, she could hear them conjuring shields.

Maybe, if she could just hold them off long enough…. Her only other alternative was to dive into that hideous tunnel, which brought back terrifying, previously suppressed memories….

How she wished Harry were here.

"We haven't the time for this foolishness, Draco," Snape insistently demanded. "She's of no consequence, but every second of tumult and delay is…."

"I can burn her out," Malfoy responded huffily - raising shivers all down Ginny's spine. Draco? With the Death Eaters? What in Merlin's name was going on?

"Every spell cast only reduces our element of surprise," Snape's chilling voice chided. "She is trivial; just end it."

Ginny cringed. Conjuring a small mirror, she tried peeking through the forest of pipes and stanchions to get some idea of what was coming.

Should she jump for it?

She heard Snape free Spott and Cambo, conjure them clothes, and contemptuously order them from his sight.

She caught some movement out of the corner of her eye, vaguely reflected in pooled water under the sinks. It was Draco. She heard the clink of something small and metallic. "Reducto!" he cried.

Ginny ducked backwards, expecting things to begin exploding in her face, but Draco's spell was not aimed in her direction.

BLAM!!

Ginny started creeping forward….

"AIEEE!!" she screamed as the inside of her skull virtually exploded in pain.

Blinded, writhing on the floor in inches of stale and grimy water, grabbing at her head with both hands, Ginny lost all track of her surroundings. She did not, could not, raise a finger to oppose the Death Eaters, contemptuously ignoring her, as they exited the ruined bathroom and slipped as stealthily as possible into the Castle.

"Well, well, well," another familiar voice - worse even than Snape's - echoed through Ginny's mind, as if from a nightmare. The pain receded, and Ginny's head felt numb….

Possessed.

She knew this feeling all too well.

Tom.

"The little girl who befriended me thinks she's all grown up now…."

He was back. She was helpless.

"Finally, I need not lurk in the background … at the beck and call of the one you call Draco…." Tom's mellifluously evil voice resounded. "It was becoming quite tiresome…."

"W-W-Why?" Ginny asked limply, unable to prevent the young Voldemort's spirit from again seizing control of her mind.

"I was injured … expelled by your paladin Potter and his Basilisk fang," Tom almost seemed to relish telling her the tale. "With my last remaining strength I fled … fled into the one available haven - you. But there I lay, impotent, crippled, incapable of anything save bare existence…."

"For years, seemingly forever, I remained trapped in the inane and torpid world of a simpering schoolgirl - a nullity; alive but useless. But your dear friend Draco, somehow he knew of my fate. He reached me … and you. So besotted with Potter you were. He called upon me to assist…. I did so gladly…."

"But it - you proved … boring … a waste of my skills. A little nudge here, and you became romantically dissatisfied…. A small tweak there, to have you turn on your Mudblooded friend…. You were so jealous, that hardly required any effort. You achieved that bit all on your own…."

"Boring it was until you pulled it off…. You surprised me. I didn't think you had it in you…. But you did…."

"Then matters grew more interesting - unusual, odd indeed. I'd never had … sex…."

`Oh my God,' Ginny thought - he knows everything….

"Oh, yes, I know," Tom Riddle chuckled. "You were so determined, and you plotted so exquisitely. Your ploy with the Bowtruckle would have done Slytherin proud. You wanted him, so you took him for everything he could give…. A pity he never found what he was seeking in you…. Yes, when you two were intimate, I could feel him, too - maybe even more than you, since you were distracted…."

All the while - throughout Tom Riddle's monologue, Ginny lay on the soaked floor of the destroyed lavatory, barely able to move, her eyes staring blankly at the curse-pocked stone walls. Suddenly, a serpent's head, huge, dull green and silvery grey, filled her field of vision. Its amber slit-like eyes regarded her unfeelingly. Its black, forked tongue flicked and just touched a revulsed Ginny's face.

"Pleessssss doont killlll meeee," Ginny gurgled in an abhorrent parody of her normal voice. Cruel realisation struck her - she now could speak Parseltongue….

Correction.

Tom Riddle's shade could speak Parseltongue.

"Sssssserpenttt fffriendddd," Tom seized control of this conversation. "Pppasssss mmme bbbyyyy, annnddd yyyouu ssssshhallll bbbe rrrewwwarrdddedddd."

"Mmmmasssssstterrrr," Nagini replied. Her diamond shaped head retreated and rose, looming above Ginny's body. "Ssssspppirrrittteddd awwwayyyy, sssshallll yyyyou bbbbee, onnccccccce I rrrettturrrnnnn. Ssssstttayyyy."

With that instruction, the gigantic snake slithered off, leaving ripples in the draining water.

"Ssssstttayyyy I sssshhhh….."

But Tom's unexpected conversation with the huge reptile had distracted him, providing Ginny an unrestricted moment to think. Her hand went to her robe's outer pocket, searching for, but not finding, her wand. That lay inaccessible over a metre away.

Instead she felt the two phials of Love Potion Malfoy had given her - it seemed like æons ago.

Harry had never really loved her, Ginny realised. It was all chemical.

But she did love Harry, however hopeless that (and she) might be.

With a single motion, she swept the phials into her mouth and bit down hard, shattering them.

Before Tom could react, Ginny swallowed it all - Love Potion and jagged shards of glass, both.

For once, Ginny was right. She did love Harry Potter.

Harry had told her, in one of the rare moments he ever opened up, that Voldemort had tried but failed to possess him at the Ministry. Voldemort failed because Harry's love had been toxic to him.

Then, she had hoped (but not believed) that Harry's love for her had given him that strength.

Now, she prayed that her love for Harry would give her enough strength … the strength to do what she now realised absolutely had to be done.

Tom screamed as if doused in acid.

Ginny felt Tom's control over her mind and body melt away by the second. Her mouth bleeding, she spat out the remnant bits of glass. Quickly, she rose, scrambled for her wand, and looked towards the door. Thankfully, the huge snake did not return, failing to register her Master's shade's predicament.

Her brain, returned temporarily to her control, still felt fuzzy from the effects of Tom's possession. Worse, she could sense Tom still struggling inside her mind. The burst of love she felt for Harry - the temporary effect of her deliberate ingestion of a massive Love Potion overdose - repulsed Tom's incursions … for the time being.

But now Ginny had no illusions. The potion was but a passing reprieve; she had consumed it all. Tom would be back, and when he returned he would certainly take permanent possession of her. Ginny knew, from harsh personal experience, that her mental defences were completely incapable of resisting Tom's onslaught.

His return would be sudden, vicious and overwhelming

Ginny knew something else - something she had heard Mum and Dad discussing when they thought her unconscious in the aftermath of her first year ordeal. Over her sickbed, her Mum had given voice to fears that Ginny would never truly be herself; that the only way for such a possession to end was with her death.

Dad had confirmed those fears, on the authority of an Unspeakable with whom he had consulted once he had learnt the nature of Ginny's condition.

Then, Ginny was able to heal. Harry's stroke of luck with the Basilisk fang had destroyed the rogue memory of Tom Riddle that had lurked in the diary.

Or so everyone thought.

Actually, Tom had not been destroyed, only gravely injured.

Now he was back.

Only one way existed to stop Tom forever.

Ginny owed it to everyone - especially to Harry, whom she had grievously and irreparably wronged - to make that happen.

Harry….

That was over.

Her whole life was Harry, and now her whole life was a lie. She had been manipulated, and in turn had manipulated him. Now she was unclean … polluted … defiled…. She had abused him, mentally and physically….

The lies had to end - now. The lies and all the rest….

Ginny pulled herself to her feet and pushed herself towards Gryffindor tower as fast as she could, determined to put things as right as she could. With little time, a quick, inconspicuous entrance and exit was essential.

Perhaps Myrtle would like some company.

No matter what, Tom would not win. Ginny would see to that.

* * * *

Drained by her ordeal, Hermione could barely sit up once she reverted from her first-ever phoenix transformation. But sitting was not on her to-do list at the moment. She wanted, needed, to have a long, private chat with Harry about whatever was going on.

Luna swore she had felt what Harry did. Luna would never lie to her, not about something so important.

But if Harry had personally generated those emotions to bring her back (again), how could her just-ended Hadean month have ever happened? Harry's emotions utterly confused her, just as had his earlier actions.

And now he would go back to Hogwarts, because that was who Harry was. She would find some way to help - still, she relished a little down time to organise her thoughts - particularly her thoughts about Harry.

* * * *

Over the last twenty-four hours, Harry had hurtled through practically the entire gamut of negative human emotions: the helpless uncertainty of being powerless to do anything when Hermione was endangered; the guilt-ridden heartbreak of rejecting Ginny's entreaties and ultimately Ginny herself; the all-encompassing terror of a headlong rush into unknown peril; the abject finality of knowing he would die before drawing another breath; the heart-stopping horror of witnessing the Killing Curse strike Hermione down; the dark rage of intentionally trying to kill someone for the first time in his life; and the bleak emptiness of losing everything - the only thing - that made his life worth living.

With the craziness finally over, Harry was utterly wrung out and ready to crash, a drained husk of a wizard.

But one emotion flowed unabated - insecurity. His unfinished personal business yawned abyssally before him.

Exhausted or no, he needed, really needed, to have a one-on-one chat with Hermione - so he could begin making sense of all that had just happened and begin atoning for all he had done.

Even if it would be the most mortifying and crushing experience of his life - past, present, or future. However, Harry's trek to his personal Canossa was not to begin just yet.

Roxtar's announcement instantly drove all else from his mind. Hogwarts was under attack by Death Eaters! The Dark Mark meant that someone, probably several people, had been killed!

He needed to be there right away.

Hermione, the only person who could possibly have stopped Harry, knew better than to get in the way of his Saving People Thing.

"Go on, Harry and save the world," she sighed, opting for a few hours' more thought about Harry's actions and intentions. "I'll be safe here."

Luna's nod to Ron indicated that he, likewise, could follow his instincts.

Ron turned to Harry, "Got room for one more?"

Harry spared a glance for Healer Huxley. "She'll be safe," the Healer responded to his implicit question. "When I receive an all clear, I'll bring her to Hogwarts. It sounds like we may both be needed."

Harry turned back to Ron. "Let's go, then."

Together they raced out the door, Ron limping noticeably, pursued by the loyal, if exasperated, Roxtar.

"Are we gonna Apparate to Hogsmeade?" Ron panted.

"Don't even think about it," Harry warned. "Jerry … er … my estate manager, altered the Anti-Apparition wards so that the Death Eaters thought they were down. They weren't. Instead all Apparition out of here was directed to the most remote property I own - some island near Antarctica…."

"So what, then?"

Harry slowed to a brisk walk when they got outside. "Accio Valkyrie! I figure we fly beyond the Château's wards, and then we can Apparate…."

"Harry, I was just kidding," Ron backed off. "I've never Apparated that far. I only got my licence a little more than a month ago."

"I'll Side-Along you, then."

"Are you sure…?"

Roxtar caught up to them. "Impratraxis! To Hogwarts to go determined are you?"

"Absolutely!" Harry vowed, then he added hopefully, "Can you get us there faster than Apparating?" He paused as his trusty broom arrived, possibly unnecessarily.

"At Hogwarts regrettably exists no splixit," Roxtar informed him. "Speed your journey cannot I, but safer can be made it. Your arm if you would, sire."

Harry blinked. It took him a second to sort through the goblin's syntax and figure out that Roxtar wanted his arm. Hesitantly, he extended it to the goblin.

Roxtar reversed the Fitting Charm on Harry's Basilisk skin jumper so as to loosen the sleeve. Carefully, almost reverently, Roxtar bared Harry's forearm, and its Tladimax scar, a scar visible only in ultraviolet light that Harry and other humans could not perceive. Roxtar bared his own forearm - the one with his hand shy a finger - and placed it along Harry's. Then he recited a Sylimps, a goblin charm of sorts, in Gobbledegook.

Harry understood none of it, but at the end felt a wave of inexplicable warmth spreading outward from his arm.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"What at Hogwarts may find you know not I," Roxtar admitted, "but at least safe will be your arrival. When Apparate do you, in the Nation's camp land will you - not in Antarctica."

Roxtar was as good as his word.

Harry Side-Along-Apparated himself and Ron as close to the uncertain boundaries of Hogwarts Castle's anti-Apparition wards as he dared.

Signs of unfolding disaster were immediately obvious, starting with the direction of Hogwarts Castle. Above it, almost leering, hovered Voldemort's Dark Mark, its cold eldritch fire outline glowing ghastly radium green. The evil symbol seemed anchored to one of the towers - the cloudy night's gloom making it impossible to tell which - marking the site of some undoubtedly awful event.

Courtesy of Roxtar's unknown charm, Harry and Ron had Apparated into the midst of a detachment of very sullen goblin warriors. The spitting rain was not even remotely affecting their attitude. Rather, ever since Harry had (so Dumbledore decreed) abused his goblin rank to facilitate that infamous all-night tryst with Ginny, goblins had been forbidden to set foot on Hogwarts' grounds.

The Headmaster had insisted, and Harry - in no position to oppose an explicit precondition to his continued attendance at Hogwarts - had issued the order. It was absolute. Goblins could watch over him and the Castle from a distance but could not enter the grounds, except by Dumbledore's (or, of course, Harry's) express invitation.

But on this of all nights neither Harry nor Dumbledore had been available to issue an invitation - until now. The Impratraxis' standing order was law. Thus, over thirty battle-hardened Stonehenge veterans stood sulking on the sidelines, certain that something heinous was happening within the Castle but able to do nothing save gawk at the Death Eaters' calling card.

For their audacity in popping into existence without warning amongst the supremely frustrated goblin braves, Harry and Ron were nearly set upon. An instant shy of an unimaginable act of lèse majesté, the goblins recognised their prince by his distinctive armour. "Impratraxis!" several voices chorused at once.

Instantly, the entire battalion unhanded the wizards, dropped their weapons, and prostrated themselves.

"Anyor!" Harry yelled as he lowered his wand. "Why aren't you in there fighting?"

Māktrax, the commander, answered, "Impratraxis, to enter forbidden are we, by order of yours. Invited must we…."

That memory hit Harry hard - almost as hard as his hand smacking his own forehead. "Get the Hell in there, then!" Harry fiercely cut him off, pointing at the Castle.

The goblins scrambled, grabbing for their weapons and other combat gear in borderline chaos. They began converting to their boulder forms and bounding away.

Harry whirled about at the sound of a shrill inhuman shriek. Less than five metres away, a goblin flier was hastily spurring his gargantuan mount to its feet, urging the still sleepy flying reptile into imminent take off.

"Granz!" Harry commanded the flier to halt. He leapt on the quetzalcoatlus, grabbed the rear of the flier's saddle with his left hand, and reached out to Ron with his right. It was decision time. Looking at the redhead, Harry asked, "Are you game?"

Ron tested his injured ankle. "Episkey," he numbed it some more. "Good day to die and all that," he uttered his first truly friendly words to Harry in a month. Rather less gracefully than Harry, Ron, too, climbed aboard.

"Go!" Harry commanded the goblin flier. His order was instantly obeyed by the goblin who, fortunately, spoke passable English

"Shite!" Compared to this leather-winged monster, flying on Buckbeak was like sitting on a throne. The rapidly accelerating reptile weighed considerably less than a Hippogriff, but its wings were over three times larger. Even with two extra passengers, the beast's exertions produced tremendous lift and speed. Ron was almost pitched over the side, and would have fallen, had he not grabbed Harry by the belt. His weight pulled Harry's legs out from under him, and Ron slipped off altogether, dangling dangerously by one hand.

"Aaauugh!" Harry bellowed as his grip on the goblin's saddle began weakening. Just in time their goblin pilot sensed a problem and pulled back hard on his reins. The pair tumbled back onboard the flying beast. They wound up bracketing the flier between them, one hand each holding onto the pilot's saddle billets, and their other hands clutching fistfuls of each other's robes.

"Bloody Hell, mate!" Ron yelled into a rushing wind laden with raindrops that stung their skin. "I'll take those Thestrals next time!"

Try as they might, neither could completely right themselves. Unlike a flying horse, the wings of a quetzalcoatalus extended all the way to its tail, offering nothing to straddle. Pressing his scaly armoured chest against the equally scaly beast, Harry performed a silent Sticking Charm on himself - at least he hoped he did.

"Take us to the Dark Mark," Harry told the flier.

"What?" The goblin asked, obviously unfamiliar with the term.

"That damn ugly looking green thing!" Ron clarified, loosening his grip long enough to point his finger.

Soon the flier slowed as he flew directly under the glowing skull-themed symbol. Harry's blood ran cold as he recognised the Headmaster's balcony. It appeared dark and deserted.

"Please get us as close as you can to the railing," Harry instructed the pilot, ending the Sticking Charm and disengaging himself from Ron. His request was not easily met, as the giant reptile was not nearly as manœuvreable as the other beasts Harry had flown. A drizzling rain made its scaly back increasingly slippery.

Finally, the goblin pilot approximated a close-in hover by more or less sinking in from above. With the downdraft from beast's huge wings swirling sodden debris on the balcony, Harry leapt. He hit the balcony's rain-slicked stone surface at an angle, and his feet slid from under him. Harry dropped, rolled, and bounced up ready to cast curses. He found no targets.

"Ah-ah-ah … AHHH!" Harry turned just in time to see Ron come hurtling after him. Taller than Harry, Ron needed a bit more clearance than he gave himself. His left boot heel caught the top of the balcony railing, and he landed hard on his already injured right foot.

"Aaaww … FUCK!" Ron howled as he crumpled.

"Gradnuk…!" Harry yelled to the hovering goblin. "Go hunt Death Eaters!" Waving off the goblin flier, Harry turned back to Ron and asked, "Can you walk on it?"

Ron grabbed the offending railing and pulled himself up. He winced when he put weight on the leg. "Not well, mate," he groaned. "Episkey," he numbed himself again. Still, he moved haltingly, almost falling when he let go of the railing. "Shite…. I'm afraid, I'd … only get in the way," Ron admitted. "You'd best go on…."

"Umm … okay, be careful," Harry agreed. "Keep your back against a wall."

"You too - you're the one out looking for the bloody Death Eaters," Ron replied.

"If I'm lucky, the goblins will find them first."

"No, if they're lucky."

Harry's attention was elsewhere. He lifted his wand to the drizzling heavens. "EVANESCO!!!" he roared.

The Dark Mark dissolved into tiny chartreuse pixels that scattered, like fireflies, in the sloppy sky.

Harry left Ron on the balcony and moved cautiously inside. Dumbledore's office was wrecked and deserted. Harry's nostrils flared at an acrid, burning smell. He quickly identified the source. In one corner of the room, glowing, purple smoke curled from a partly opened cupboard. Only half the door remained, and it was seriously charred. Whatever was inside seemed burnt out. Dumbledore could fix it later….

Looking about the room, Harry found the portraits in disarray, their occupants having fled. The table that held the Headmaster's collection of odd magical artefacts was blown to smithereens - a Reductor Curse, probably - leaving bits of wood and silver scattered all over the floor. The top of Dumbledore's desk was buried beneath the debris from a smashed chandelier and plaster from what remained of the Tudor ceiling.

Save for occasional sizzling, staccato pops from the smouldering cupboard, the Headmaster's office was as still and quiet as death.

"Hell, as long as you move that slowly, I've got your back," Ron quipped as he stumped up from behind. "I'll come in, if you don't mind. Contrary to what Luna thinks sometimes, I do have enough sense to get out of the rain…."

"Funny, Hermione's said the same thing about me…."

Rather than try entering Dumbledore's private quarters, Harry slunk towards the office door. It hung precariously, the lower hinge blasted clean away. Listening carefully, he thought he heard the sounds of distant spellfire somewhere below him - down the pitch black stairwell. For the first time in Harry's experience, the spiral staircase was not rotating.

Lighting his way with his wand, Harry examined the landing. Seeing nothing threatening, he began striding towards the sounds of battle.

"…Hhaarryy…"

Instantly, Harry straightened up and spun around, wand ready to fire. That almost ghostly groan was not Ron's voice … but it was familiar….

"…Hhaarryy…"

"What's going on?" Ron asked, getting no answer.

Harry's wand flared to searchlight strength. Harry scanned the landing, the stairs, and finally Dumbledore's office. He saw nothing.

"Neville, is that you? Where are you?" Harry raised his voice. Turning, he called to Ron, "Do you see Neville anywhere?"

"Up … here…."

"Where?" Even with his strengthened Lumos, Harry saw nothing.

"…Hhaarryy …"

Finally, Harry looked straight up, pointing his wandtip at the ceiling of the Headmaster's foyer. Listening intently, he heard a minute scratching sound of something rocking back and forth - almost directly overhead.

"Oh, hell," Harry swore under his breath. "Finite!"

Neville's form flickered into view just in time for Harry to avoid being clobbered by his plummeting body. Casting whilst leaping out of the way, Harry saved his friend from possible serious injury. "Arresto momentum!" Neville, his face as pale as alabaster, floated to the floor.

"Neville! Are you all right? What happened? Where's Dumbledore?" The questions tumbled from Harry's lips, toppling over one another like a row of dominoes.

"Oy, Nev - what are you doing here?" Ron limped up and tossed in a query of his own.

"Harry … Dumbledore's … dead," Neville rasped, on the edge of tears.

Neville's words burned Harry's psyche like a branding iron. "WHAT!!" He simply could not believe it. Harry's mind reeled, insistent that what he had just heard simply could not be true.

Ron was only marginally more eloquent. "Oh, triple shite!"

"Dumbledore's dead," Neville repeated, his voice hollow.

Harry flinched at the sound of a particularly loud spell impact somewhere in the dark distance. He could not afford to fall to pieces. "How, Neville?"

"Death Eaters … in the Castle," Neville's lips trembled as he continued. "Effing … Draco Malfoy … AKed Dumbledore…. Snape was with him, and a bunch of others…."

"I'll kill that little ferret." Ron vowed.

"Dammit!" Harry cursed loudly. "I'm sorry, Nev, I should never have made you go with him like that. I should…."

Neville cut short Harry's apology. "Did you find Hermione?"

"Umm … yes."

"Is she … all right?"

"I - we - rescued her. She's … safe," Harry answered truthfully, if incompletely. He truly did not know how Hermione really was. She had survived being hit with a Killing Curse - something that Harry knew firsthand could have unusual, long-term effects.

"Then, you're forgiven," Neville declared.

His head still spinning at the awful news of Dumbledore's demise, Harry took several deep breaths. The urgent sounds of curses being exchanged somewhere below ended the interrogation. They could talk more later.

"Cover me," Harry told them as he squared his shoulders and turned again towards the battle. He dimmed his wand and trotted down the eerily stationary stairs.

Maybe halfway to the gargoyle, Harry encountered an open passageway in what had heretofore always been a blank stone wall. The curse sounds echoed through the unknown corridor. Even though he had never seen it before, Harry did not hesitate. "This way!" he called to his friends following him.

In he dove. The opening was maybe a metre square, maybe a bit more. Hunched over, half running, half crawling, Harry charged through the cramped passage as quickly as he could. He saw a flash and a puff of smoke as some stray spell punched a hole in the grate at the far end of the tunnel and gouged the wall in front of him. He was about to emerge into the heat of battle with no idea which side was where.

He needed something that would suppress both sides until he could sort things out and avoid problems with friendly fire. He smiled, recalling one of Hermione's favourite spells. Whispering, he Transfigured into a mirror a bit of debris left by that incoming spell. Harry Levitated it so he could observe the course of the battle through the hole in the grate.

He had to remind himself that his view was a mirror image of what was actually happening. When he came crashing through, everything would be on the opposite side.

A full-throated battle raged in the large corridor on the Castle's fifth storey near Ravenclaw tower. Several large cracks disfigured the walls and ceiling. Many of the windows were shattered, letting the rain - heavier now than before - patter in, a ghostly, ghastly mist lit by the colours of assorted curses.

Death Eaters were crouched behind a bulwark of wooden beams and broken stone blocks visible directly in front of him. That meant that his side….

"Cover me!" a voice screamed. It registered as familiar, and Harry tried to focus on it. Before he located the source, someone dashed into the Death Eaters' field of fire with an animalistic howl. Harry started, shaking the mirror and blurring the image. Drawing the Death Eaters' curses, the figure sprinted to the left (which meant actually to the right), and to the shelter of a blown-out door and a crumpled suit of armour.

Harry gulped. Whoever he saw was wearing green goblin basilisk armour like he did. By the process of elimination that meant…. No, her hair was black and cropped, not long and red. The armour absorbed whatever curses struck her. Fortunately, none were Unforgivables.

The girl rolled behind the makeshift barricade, spun around and began firing Stunners, Reductors, and other D.A. curses from this new angle. Harry saw two Death Eaters fall backwards, hit by her spells.

"NOW!" the girl cried. She looked back, presumably towards the rest of her side, and coincidentally straight into Harry's mirror. Harry drew in a disbelieving breath. Jazzy - a mere third year - was spearheading the D.A.'s counterattack.

Harry crawled forward, keeping one eye on the mirror. A new volley of spells crashed into the Death Eaters' position, keeping them ducking. Harry crouched just behind the entrance when he heard a hated voice that he had hoped he was rid of forever. "Sectumsempra!"

Almost immediately, he heard someone scream. That curse had hit home.

Harry had found Snape.

Neville had all too obviously been correct. Snape, the traitor, had facilitated the death of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry would not mind at all returning the favour.

As he had once before, Harry summoned wandless elemental magic. "Pulvis!"

The grate concealing Harry and the passageway blew out horizontally, smiting the opposite wall like a cannonball. A raging sandstorm, driven by a one-hundred-plus-kilometre-per-hour gust, burst from the secret passage's entrance. Harry was in the midst of it. As the windblown sand forced all the combatants to cover their eyes, Harry dropped to the floor.

Oof! "Urrkk!" Harry landed on something - someone - soft.

"Sorry," Harry whispered genuinely. Whoever he had accidentally jumped on - Harry saw Ravenclaw piping on the robes - was seriously injured. He would like to help, but a battle needed fighting. Still….

"Mobilicorpus!" At least he could move the incapacitated soul out of harm's way so that Neville's or Ron's entrance would cause even worse injury.

The wind hurled stinging sand everywhere as Harry picked himself up. Determined, he almost flew across the large corridor to the side opposite Jazzy's last known position. Harry dove behind a pile of stone blasted from the Castle's collapsed outer wall.

Now, the Death Eater emplacement would be under fire from both sides.

But Harry had a personal score to settle. Before the sand had even stopped swirling, he had his wand pointed in the direction of the hated voice. "Ultrasonicus!"

Perhaps the loudest noise ever heard in that ancient corridor rumbled through. The outer wall's cracks creaked ominously, and every remaining intact window was blown out. Harry had unleashed a sonic boom - in an enclosed space. That spell penetrated both physical and magical Protego spells.

Shouts of pain - and fewer curses - emerged from the Death Eater's barricade.

"It's Harry!" somebody yelled from behind him. A new salvo of D.A. hexes and jinxes shot out towards the Death Eater position.

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry ducked behind the fallen stones. He came face to face with someone's lifeless arm. The robe's yellow trim told him that some Hufflepuff had been crushed to death.

The Death Eaters quickly recovered from the unexpected intervention, and more of their curses pinned down the group, which consisted mostly of Ravenclaws. Harry recognised the voices of Zeb Bradley, Roger Davies, Padma Patil - and more surprisingly Cho Chang - doing battle with at least a baker's dozen of Death Eaters. Perhaps the fight being near Ravenclaw Tower explained their predominance.

A Hornetentious Hex streaked over Harry's left shoulder. Neville and Ron had reached the end of the passageway and had joined the fight.

"Specularis totalus!" Harry heard Jazzy's voice ring out. Her spell had an instant, blinding effect as all of the surfaces about the Death Eaters' location became reflective. She followed with a resounding "Stupefy!"

Her scarlet Stunner ricocheted wildly, causing Death Eaters to duck and cover in all directions. Harry had to smile. Jazzy had obviously paid attention during his epic duel with Hermione, and was applying what she had learnt in actual combat.

But the Death Eaters, or at least Snape, were resourceful combatants. "Bombardo!" Harry heard his erstwhile Potions master incant. Conjured ball bearings flew everywhere and shattered the product of Jazzy's Mirror Charm.

Two could play at that game, Harry realised.

The battle had strewn chips of stone thickly across the floor. Harry swept his wand broadly as he also cursed, "Bombardo!" The chips of stone transformed into ball bearings and pelted the Death Eaters at the opposite end of the hall.

"Draco, go with the others," Harry heard the hated voice command. "I'll cover your escape." The Death Eaters had either had enough or else accomplished everything they had intended.

Harry neither knew, nor cared, which.

The D.A. increased its strafing of the Death Eater positions, but Snape cast some unknown magic at the opposition. A huge cloud of peridot-green smoke arose and billowed towards Harry and other D.A. members. Behind it the retreating Death Eaters threw Blasting Hexes and other dangerous, but non-deadly curses essentially at random - to keep Hogwarts' defenders pinned down.

Once the fog reached the nearest defenders, its being more than a smokescreen became painfully clear. Harry heard Jazzy's gravelly voice - obviously magically enhanced - sound the alarm. "Garroting Gas," she declared. "Fall back!"

A general disengagement followed, with the corrupted miasma obscuring each side from the other.

For his own part, Harry stayed put. His eyes began tearing up, then he started having trouble breathing. Finally, he summoned air elemental power and generated a prevailing wind that blew the noxious gas through the corridor's numerous shattered windows. Impatient to re-engage the Death Eaters who had killed Dumbledore, Harry performed a Bubblehead Charm and charged into the thinning mist.

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry threw himself to the floor, but Draco Malfoy's Killing Curse missed badly.

Malfoy had probably used the identical curse to kill Dumbledore not more than an hour earlier. "Expelliarmus!" Harry responded emotionally, but in his anger he missed just as badly, punching another sizable hole in one of the walls.

"Draco, I said go," Snape's cold voice commanded. "We've accomplished what we wanted here tonight. Don't forget your orders. Killing Potter is the exclusive province of the Dark Lord."

"YOU TRAITOROUS BASTARD!!" Harry roared. Incensed, he cut a Reductor multiple times and, as at Kew Gardens, hurled it at whatever Death Eaters remained.

But since Kew, Harry had gained a much more intimate acquaintance with the Fifth Element. He might have put a little something extra on these spells. The entire corridor - floor, walls, and ceiling - disappeared behind the flashes of Harry's spellfire … and then much of it simply disappeared.

Harry heard a rumble as the outer wall and much of the ceiling of the main corridor leading to Ravenclaw Tower slid away as pulverised debris, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the Castle. All of a sudden, the downpour from the storm outside streamed in from directly overhead.

Ravenclaw Tower also soared overhead in the now outright stormy night. As the magic faded away, Harry realised that, had the rightmost of his Reductors been cast only a couple of metres wider, he might have brought down the entire tower - killing everyone in it.

"You remain a bumbling fool, Potter," Snape's voice taunted. "All power, zero perspicacity. The Dark Lord will make short work of you ….as Draco has already."

What did that mean?

Snape's evil voice was almost overhead. Harry raised his wand, but found himself dodging, not entirely successfully, a small avalanche of sodden rubbish kicked down upon him. He had to cast a protective shield, instead of the curse he had planned.

"Then stop running away, Snape!" Harry yelled at the unseen Death Eater. "Stand and fight, you bloody coward!"

Much to Harry's surprise, his challenge seemed to have the desired effect. "DON'T CALL ME A COWARD!" roared the former Potions master's voice from somewhere above in the darkness.

Heedless of both danger and adverse weather, Harry climbed after Snape, intent upon mayhem or worse. He emerged precariously onto the roof of Hogwarts - somewhere he had never been before, let alone at night, let alone in a steady rain … let alone with a gaping hole at his back and an exposed 30° sloping expanse of copper and slate stretching before him.

Somewhere up here was Snape, lying in wait.

Hunched over in the driving rain, Harry Disillusioned himself and, stepping gingerly across rivulets flowing towards the gutters below, crept towards the nearest shelter - the looming spire of Ravenclaw Tower.

He heard something, a splash of sorts, but by the time Harry had his wand trained in that direction, Snape had already snapped off a spell - albeit not at Harry.

"A priori!"

That spell - unlike Harry, Snape was competent to cast it directionally - streaked directly into the cavernous hole from which Harry had just emerged. It seemed to trigger Hogwarts' innate magic. The bent and jagged edges of the Castle's greenish-grey copper roof rippled, the rough hewn edges of its broken-off stone and wood glowed and then reknit. Magically, the outward manifestations of the crater Harry's Blasting Hexes had blown out of Hogwarts Castle repaired themselves.

Harry was alone on the roof of Hogwarts with ex-Professor Snape.

"That should prevent any reinforcements," Snape's disembodied voice scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself thinking that my Death Eaters ran from you. There are too many of your goblin friends about. But they can't help you now … pity. With your vandalism fixed, it's just the two of us. Think you can take me, Potter?"

While his lurking adversary spoke, Harry silently conjured a magic-stopping Protego shield to augment his armour. Snape's curses would be worse than any physical object the Death Eater might throw at him.

It was quite dark amongst the rain-swept crenellations and stone parapets that topped the uppermost termini of the Castle's flying buttresses. He doubted that Snape could see him any better than he could see Snape. The murky sky was unrelievedly black - no moon, no stars, only bloated clouds that scudded low over Hogwarts' soaring mediæval towers. A few spottily-lit Castle windows provided minimal illumination, along with indirect light from what might be flickering flames far below.

With the wet weather, any fire would have to be magical in origin.

His senses tingling with epinephrine, Harry stole towards Ravenclaw tower, anxious to put a wall at his back.

"Sectumsempra!" Snape struck the first magical blow.

Harry reacted, but too slowly. He had chosen wisely. The Dark curse bounced off Harry's armour, and the shield protected his face from some unfortunate shrapnel.

"Diffindo!" Harry returned fire blindly, sweeping his wand horizontally to sweep across as much of the roof area as he could without hitting one of the towers.

"Pathetic, Potter," Snape taunted. "The eddies about your feet betray your position."

"Yeah, I guess you know about betrayal."

Snape evidently did have superior night vision. Instinctively Harry changed directions. Instead of continuing towards the questionable shelter of Ravenclaw Tower, he dropped and slid towards the crenellated ledge of the walkway that edged the roof.

It was a better move in theory than practice. On the rain slicked roof Harry misjudged his acceleration. He was moving too fast and about to careen off into space…. "Incarcerous!" he cast desperately. Ropes flew from his wand and entangled between two crenellations in front of him. Harry slammed into his own conjuring, and by grabbing it managed to avoid a twenty-five-metre fall.

Although his Idiotus Hex missed a sliding Harry, Snape kept the pressure on, allowing his opponent no time even to wince at his nasty rope burns. Harry splashed facedown in the gutter to dodge the slashing purple calling card of the Dark Fire of Tu-Fan. But whilst Snape could cast that spell silently, he was not accurate. It sailed well over Harry's head.

"You bastard!" a dripping Harry yelled at his phantom foe. "You killed Dumbledore!" He crawled behind the mossy capstone of a flying buttress.

"I did no such thing, you insipid fool," Snape drawled dismissively. "That honour went to Draco Malfoy. He needn't bother killing you."

"Reducto!" Harry squeezed off a strong Reductor Curse at what he thought might be Snape's shadow. Instead he exploded a decorative gargoyle and disintegrated part of the railing of the roof's peak walkway.

"Go ahead, Potter, blow up the Castle if you like," Snape's voice ridiculed. "What's done is done."

"That inbred wimp couldn't tie his own shoes without your help," Harry replied. "Lumos!"

Harry figured that Snape already knew where he was; a little more light gave nothing away.

Suddenly Snape's voice bore all the silkiness of his classroom orations. "A fatal but unsurprising flaw, Potter - underestimating your enemy. I've had a detailed chat with dear Draco. He's been quite busy plotting rings around you for most of the Term. Who do you think killed that elf…?"

Harry was also busy, and not to be underestimated. From the direction of Snape's taunts, he noticed raindrops spattering off of some invisible object. Like Hermione did with her bluebell flames, Harry carefully drew his Lumos light from his wandtip - he had destroyed his second wand earlier that same evening - so that it hovered beside him.

Knowing that Snape would be watching the light, Harry cast again. "Frigidio!"

The wet copper roof beneath Snape's feet suddenly became a sheet of wet ice. Instantly, Snape lost his balance and began careening towards the edge at a much higher speed than Harry had slid earlier, howling all the way.

Harry aimed his Freezing Charm along Snape's path - greasing the greasy git's skids as it were - and with a final screech his nemesis disappeared over the edge. Harry shone his brightly lit wandtip past the lip of the gutter, hoping to see Snape hit the ground.

He saw nothing - until he heard … the man's voice behind him. "A silent Levitating Charm, Potter. Underestimation will be your death … Imperio!"

Snape was astounded when Harry threw himself over the side to avoid his Unforgivable Curse…. He had never intended….

…Astounded, that is, until Harry's foot slammed into the back of the former professor's head and sent him sprawling in one direction whilst his wand clattered away in another. "Someone else knows silent magic," Harry hissed whilst Vanishing the ropes his burnt hands had gripped so painfully.

Harry's latest Incarcerous spell had bulls-eyed the head of a gargoyle atop the nearby buttress cap. He followed that with a Kinetic Charm - on himself. His pinwheeling through the air had been worthy of a cartoon superhero.

At least when Hermione's life was not at stake, Harry was not, temperamentally, a killer. He wanted Snape well and properly Kissed. "Petrificus to…."

Sprawled and hurting, Snape still had the presence of mind to Banish a handful of Peruvian Instant Darkness Power wandlessly in Harry's face. The rain washed it out within seconds, but those seconds were all Snape needed to make himself scarce once again.

Temporarily blinded, Harry felt for, found, and pressed his back against the buttress' stony mass. Rather than attempting to finish him off, Snape inexplicably contented himself merely by summoning his wand and continuing his taunts.

"Nice move, Potter. I won't underestimate you again," Snape sneered, but his voice sounded much further away. "But you're too soft. Not like Draco. He'll be the ultimate Death Eater, I am sure of it…."

"Dammit … Ultrasonicus!" Like a thunderclap at ten metres, another supersonic pressure wave roiled outward from Harry's person, rather than his wand.

Silence.

Snape's snide yammering began again.

"Sound and fury, Potter, signifying nothing. Face facts for once…. You're not ruthless enough for this - and you know I know what this is. When the Dark Lord ordered Draco to kill Dumbledore, he repaired a Vanishing Cabinet, reopened the old route to the Chamber, and provided us all with access to the Castle. When the Dark Lord ordered Draco to separate you from the Muggle-born brains of your operation, he arranged that as well, substituting a redheaded piece of fluff."

"Leave Hermione and Ginny out of this, you boot-licking traitor!" Harry screamed in blazing anger sparked primarily by Snape's probing of his own extreme insecurity on that front. "Fluvius Azote!" Liquid nitrogen - which Harry hoped would either freeze or suffocate his adversary - flowed copiously from his wand.

The distinctive double pop of short-range Apparition rang out.

"What the…?"

"Underestimating me still, I see," Snape sneered. "Of course, I've disabled the Castle's anti-Apparition wards. I suppose you never even bothered to check. Enflagrate!"

Two could play that game. Harry Apparated to the walkway at the peak of the roof, dropped flat onto the soaking slate, and incanted, "Nimbulus!"

An obscuring cloud formed around Harry.

"So, you really think you're in love with the Weasley girl, then?" Snape ended his pointed question with a harsh laugh.

For once, Harry had no answer, at least none he cared to articulate. Since his argument with Ginny earlier that same evening, he was no longer sure of anything - save that something was not right … dodgy. "Just leave them out of this, you bastard!" Harry repeated.

Snape, however, was just getting started. "Love potion, Potter. My love potion. Draco told me today; your lovely Ginevra's recipe was in my handwriting - mine, Potter. Draco all but gave you away as a present, tightly bound with an artificially enhanced ribbon. All you lacked…."

"Diff -"

Snape knocked that spell away before Harry even finished it. "You'll have to do better than that. Wrapped around their fingers, you've been…."

The sinews of Harry's neck stretched taut beneath his skin. He snarled, his eyes wild, "I don't give a flying fuck what either you or Malfoy say; you're Death Eaters."

Harry, too angry for his own good, was sloppy.

"Incarcerous ennervatus," Snape cast whilst Harry was screaming. The Death Eater managed to skip a more dangerous variant of one of Harry's favourite spells off the roof and under Harry's shield. Snape's version conjured chains of the same magic-sapping variety that had held Harry during his Death Eater captivity.

Hit on his feet, Harry toppled over, immobilised.

Snape finally showed himself. "Suit yourself," he scoffed. "I know who and what I am, and I am the Half-Blood Prince. It seems that someone managed to locate a certain tome that I'd thought lost - a certain sixth year textbook. My old textbook…."

As Snape gloated, Harry's eyes nearly left his paralysed head. He forgot all about his current bound-in-chains straits. "You were Ron's idol!?!"

"Shut up and listen to the last lesson I'll ever teach you. Didn't I once tell you, Potter, about potions that could bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses?"

The Death Eater Potions master could have killed Harry then and there, had he been so inclined. Instead, he contented himself with inflicting a minor Stinging Hex on the exposed hands of the essentially helpless boy. "Keep your shields up Potter; your duelling style is woefully amateurish…."

Harry tried wandlessly to comply, but his attention focussed elsewhere. He saw something - he thought, anyway - something dark and solid had passed by and obscured some of the lit windows in the Astronomy Tower. Not wanting to tip Snape off, he wandlessly invoked the D.A.'s Face Fogging Charm. `Just keep talking, Snape,' Harry thought.

"…Yes, I said Love Potion." The phrase curled spitefully from Snape's lips. "Your mind and your senses…. But regrettably, I didn't know then of its imperfections …. If it had been perfect, you would never have been born…."

`Come on,' Harry rooted. `Just a little longer.'

"Answer me this, Potter, do you have the same feelings - the same sexual feelings - for the lovely Miss Weasley when you're away from Hogwarts as when you're here?"

`What…? How could Snape possibly known about that?'

Snape continued, "Or when you're away, do you get peckish...?"

Harry's face paled in shock.

Sensing that he was finally hitting home, Snape pushed his advantage. "Or perhaps even nostalgic…?"

`No! It couldn't be….' Harry found it hard to breathe. He could hear his blood roaring in his ears….

Merlin! How could Snape possibly have known that?

"I see the truth dawning, Potter. That potion was my special concoction, Potter… I devised it…."

BREEEEEEEE!!

Snape could say no more.

With a deafening screech, a familiar goblin quetzalcoatalus pounced upon the former potions master from behind, seized him in its claws, and carried him away.

The goblin's cry of triumph was cut short by a loud Apparition pop.

But Snape or no Snape, at that moment Harry was too heartsick to care.

If Snape were right, how could Ginny have betrayed him so completely?

Worse, how could he have done the same to Hermione?

* * * *

When Snape vanished, so did his malicious charm - at least its most potent, magic-sapping aspect. In short order, Harry broke the now ordinary chains using Lao Kung's elemental magic. A few cycles of extreme heat, followed by bitter cold, left them so brittle that they shattered after being quite non-magically bashed a couple of times against Hogwarts' copper sheathed roof.

Once free, a physically drenched but emotionally numbed Harry shimmied down the conjured rope he had left hanging from the nearby gargoyle's ears. The outer windows were quite restored. "Alohomora." The nearest window opened, and Harry re-entered the battle-scarred corridor. It was almost deserted.

"There you are," Ron hailed him. "Did you get that bastard Snape?"

"I ran him off, anyway," Harry answered distractedly. "Dessicatus!" Harry dried himself. He had so much to think about. Everything was different - and not just because of Dumbledore's murder. "Umm … where is everybody?"

Something seemed … off. A serious battle had just been fought and was now over. A pall of dust hung in the deserted corridors. Where were any of the staff? For that matter, where were the elves? The staff might have been fighting elsewhere, but the elves - surely they would have come by, if only to clean things up.

"Well, not five minutes after you went after the Greasy Git, the goblins rolled through," Ron recounted. "They didn't stay long, though. They were after Death Eaters, but by then those bastards had left, except for a couple too badly hurt to get away … wherever they went, anyway…. Their end wasn't pretty, but I reckon they deserved it."

The goblins! How could he have forgotten them?

"I don't believe it," Neville confirmed Harry's earlier impression, "but Jazzy seemed to be commanding the D.A., or at least this lot of them. She had them Levitate their wounded and take them to the Hospital Wing. Nothing could save poor Megan, though," he added with flat finality, glancing in the direction of the rubble pile on the right. "She's dead."

Harry shook his head, not knowing what he could say. Another death….

Ron broke the awkward silence. "We could have helped Jazzy, but we decided we'd rather wait for you."

"Well … thanks, I guess." Harry noticed a nasty looking rip in the right side of Neville's robes, its edges discoloured by blood. "Nev, I think we ought to get you to the Hospital Wing, too. I don't like the looks of that."

"Nah," Neville shrugged it off. "Just winged by a stray Cutting Curse. I want to know more about Hermione."

"She's recovering. Some really good Healers - the same ones who helped me after I was rescued - are treating her. They think she's well enough to bring her to the Hospital Wing once everything…."

Harry was silenced by Professor McGonagall's voice rattling through the corridor and presumably the entire Castle.

"ATTENTION EVERYONE. GOOD NEWS, FINALLY…. WE HAVE DETERMINED THAT THE CASTLE IS FREE OF DEATH EATERS. BACKUP WARDS HAVE BEEN RESTORED. THE LEVEL ONE LOCKDOWN IS LIFTED, EXCEPT FOR GRYFFINDOR TOWER, DUE TO FIREFIGHTING ACTIVITY AT THE BASE. THE SLYTHERIN EVACUATION REMAINS IN FORCE. EVERYONE ELSE SHOULD STAY IN THEIR COMMON ROOMS ABSENT A GOOD REASON, APPROVED BY A PREFECT, TO LEAVE…."

Firefighting? Harry's first instinct was to dash off in search yet another crisis. But before he could muster a head of steam, he felt a hand on his shoulder - Ron's hand.

"No mate, I think we should get Neville to the Hospital Wing, and also me, with this gimpy leg. I'll bet Hermione's there by now, and I'm hoping Luna, too…. If anybody really needs you, they'll come get you."

Sighing, Harry felt the epinephrine drain from his body. "All right then. To the Hospital Wing…." Exiting the ruined hallway, it registered with Harry that, unlike himself or Ron, Neville wasn't wearing his customised suit of goblin-crafted Basilisk-skin armour.

Pointing at his own garb, Harry wondered, "Damn Nev, too bad you didn't wear yours. It would have stopped that curse for sure…."

Neville winced, and not just from the wound Harry mentioned. "That reminds me…. I need to thank you, again … wish I didn't have to…. Your D.A. training saved my life…."

Shared battlefield experience had rekindled Ron's friendship with Harry. Neville, though, still had issues with Harry's betrayal of Hermione. Ron, at least, was intrigued. "Oh really … how so?"

"Same reason that I don't have my armour. We went to a cave, but it was so near the ocean that Dumbledore … may he rest in peace … made me take it off. He was afraid that I would drown if I fell in the water wearing it. Turns out he was right, but not how he thought…."

As the three walked to the Hospital Wing through the Castle's eerily deserted halls, their footsteps echoing in the profound post-battle silence, Neville summarised the Horcrux hunt that Harry had abruptly dumped in his lap. They managed to enter the cave reasonably intact - nothing but a flesh wound - and successfully navigated a lake brimming with Inferi.

The wheels came off once Dumbledore decided he had to drink some poisonous potion to access the Horcrux. Trying to get away, with the Headmaster largely incapacitated, Neville had fallen headlong into the lake amongst any number of Inferi.

Thanks to extra D.A. lessons, Neville was familiar enough with Inferi to survive.

"…That's where the D.A. saved my life," Neville explained. "You taught us Hellas Infernus, and that Greek Fire burnt underwater. I used it to get away from the Inferi, and then several times to get back across the lake. Dumbledore was practically delirious by then…. Fortunately the Thestrals hadn't strayed…."

By the time Neville finished reciting the gory details of the Headmaster's death at Draco Malfoy's hands, they had reached the Hospital Wing.

It was bedlam. Controlled bedlam, but bedlam nonetheless.

The beds were all filled. One entire side of the ward was occupied by the mostly Ravenclaw veterans of the battle that Harry and his compatriots had helped turn. As Harry had expected (and hoped), Hermione was in the thick of things, along with Luna, tending to them.

She was wielding her wand. Harry was happy that someone had returned it to her, but displeased that the someone had not been he.

More serious cases, such as Zeb Bradley's Sectumsempra lacerations, were attended by Hlr. Huxley and Madam Pomfrey. Finally, the Hogwarts staff was also in evidence. Filch lay in one bed, unconscious and looking miserable. Shak had nasty looking burns on one arm, and his left leg was tractioned at a thirty degree angle. Professor Sinistra nursed another painful set of burns, and Hagrid, too. The Astronomy professor suffered in silence, but Hagrid was noisy. "Awwww!!," the half-giant roared in pain. "That's wors'n a dozen bloody screwts!" Madam Pomfrey, very tired and all but out on her feet but at least uninjured, tried to get him to drink a potion. It was probably some sort of sedative - if the rest of the occupants were lucky.

Worst of all, Hlr. Huxley was working on someone behind a privacy shield and a forest of instruments, talismans, and artefacts. Whoever it was, the treatment did not seem to be going well. Harry had never seen the eminent Healer look as defeated as he did right now.

Not too far away, and looking somewhat out of place, were three Slytherins - Blaise Zabini, Preston Spott, and Smedley Cambo - whose injuries consisted of an assortment of tentacles, multicoloured boils, and overly long teeth. Spott and Cambo also belched slugs. Whilst the rest of the Castle's inhabitants were fighting for their lives against a Death Eater attack, and some sort of conflagration, some Slytherins apparently had engaged in some juvenile intra-house hexing, and these three ended up on the losing end.

Ron and Neville strode - or in Ron's case, hobbled - into the active theatre of the Hospital Wing, seeking treatment of their assorted and sundry wounds, hopefully by Hermione and Luna.

Harry hung back. His injuries were superficial by comparison. A Hospital Wing filled with active casualties was surely not conducive to the serious discussion he owed Hermione. Nor was this the time to draw her away from treating the injured. Other people needed her more than he did - at least right now.

Nor did Harry discount the possibility that Hermione might simply refuse to talk to him at all - or else slap him across the face.

He noticed someone else alone with her thoughts.

The rope burns on Harry's hands from his duel with Snape were no worse than the cuts and scratches that marred Jazzy's face. The fierce third year had settled into a chair on the opposite end of the long room. Harry could sympathise with Jazzy's thousand-metre stare.

After giving his hands a quick Episkey, Harry wandered over and flopped into an adjacent chair for a breather of his own. It was hot in the Hospital Wing, so he unbuttoned his upper armour, revealing a thoroughly sweat-soaked "Property of Gryffindor Quidditch" cut-off t-shirt beneath. Still finding things hard to believe, Harry ruminated over all he had recently learnt.

Dumbledore's dead….

Snape was Ron's Half-Blood Prince….

I've been Love Potioned for weeks….

Malfoy not only killed Dumbledore, but probably brewed that potion….

Hermione's safe and sound….

The last meant more to Harry than all the rest put together.

"Glad to see you back in time to save the day again - sort of." Jazzy's half whisper finished with a mirthless "hah."

One thing that never changed about Jazzy was her attitude.

"Oh, hell, Jazzy, you hardly needed my help," Harry replied evenly. "You and the D.A. had the Death Eaters damn well pinned down. They couldn't do anything but run for it. But…."

Harry was thinking about something odd.

Jazzy called on it. "But, what?"

"Where in Merlin's name was Gryffindor … 'cept for you, that is?"

"Long story."

Harry looked down the hall. Hermione was crying. A nervous Neville patted her on the back like she was a porcupine. Ron and Luna held each other nearby. Whoever Hlr. Huxley had been trying to save had not made it. A sheet covered the body, from head to toe.

Harry cursed his luck. He should be there, too, comforting Hermione. All doubt was now gone; his relationship with Ginny was over - even if he had not formally ended it.

He sighed. "I've got nothing but time."

"All right then," Jazzy assented. "I was in the library, trying to study. Your ex-girlfriend was in full drama queen mode in the common room, and I couldn't get…."

"Ex-girlfriend?" Harry was hopeful. "Really, I'm not entirely sure…."

"Bloody obvious, really," Jazzy snorted. "How thick are you? Ginny-whingey certainly acted that way, but that's your problem, not mine. Anyway, had just finished up when things started to happen. I high-tailed the rest of the way back to Gryffindor. You know me … always spoiling for a fight…."

"And you got one, too," Harry commented. "But not the rest of Gryffindor it seems. You're not that much braver than the rest of us."

"True," Jazzy conceded, "only quicker. Back in Gryffindor … well, it was a mess. People milling about. You, Neville, Ronald, and of course Hermione, all missing…. The only logical leader left was Ginny. But although a couple of people claimed they'd seen her, she wasn't to be found. I went looking for her, and … and…."

A bit of a glaze came over Jazzy's eyes, as if distracted by something more important. She stared at the other end of the Hospital Wing, where the body of the Death Eaters' latest victim had been removed, and Luna and Hermione had started working on the Slytherin casualties.

"And, what?"

"Ginny wasn't in the dorm either, but obviously had been, since she'd left her trunk wide open. That's where I found this armour," Jazzy raised her arms to emphasise her own garb. "I nicked it. When I got back to the common room, the Prefects were finally taking charge. They didn't want anybody lower than fifth year to be fighting the Deaters. Bloody idiots! Well, you know me…."

Harry could guess where she was going. "Yeah, I'll bet you told them rather loudly to go straight to hell…."

"Yup, and I was out of there, armour and all, before anybody could try to stop me," Jazzy confirmed. "Lucky thing, too, because Gryffindor tower was locked down before they got organised. Deaters set off Fiendfyre near the base - don't know why, but I'd smelled something burning as I left. That's also why Slytherin was evacuated. The blaze was a little too close to them for comfort."

"Not necessarily a bad thing," Harry put in.

"Anyway, I went looking for a fight and ran into some Ravenclaws and a few Hufflepuffs headed for Ravenclaw Tower. But the Deaters found them, too, a bit before I did. They went after Cho first, since she can't move as fast, what with her feet and all. I started blasting away, and well you pretty much know the rest. Umm … could I ask you a question?"

"I guess."

"You really meant it, didn't you, when you said I could stay at your … that château rather than go back to my relatives?"

Harry brightened. Finally something he knew the answer to. "Absolutely."

"Okay, then, because I think I want to."

"No problem."

Jazzy stood. "I've got to go. You've reminded me of something…."

"Back to Gryffindor?"

"No. Ginny left a note on her bed, and I picked that up whilst there. I just remembered it."

"Okay," Harry shrugged as he held out his hand, assuming the note was for him.

"Not for you," Jazzy disabused him. "Ginny's note is for Neville…. That's another reason I assumed you two were over."

Harry shook his head in frank disbelief as Jazzy walked away. He made ready to leave. He had nothing to do here, since he had no Healer training.

`Don't you dare, Harry Potter,' Hermione's telepathic voice echoed in his head. She had not employed this form of communication since their break up, just over a month ago. `We need to talk, so will you wait for me - please…?'

As usual, Hermione was right. If she wanted to talk sooner rather than later, he was ready, since they had nowhere to go but up.

Harry flopped back into his seat and watched distractedly as Jazzy approached Neville and handed him Ginny's note.

* * * *

For the first time in … it seemed forever, Hermione harboured some hope that somewhere, beneath all of Harry's inexplicable and often inexcusable behaviour, he might still feel something for her. Whilst not exactly superstitious, she wanted to have it out with him before telling anything to anyone else….

She had readily accepted Hlr. Huxley's offer to Side-Along her and Luna to the winged-boar gates of Hogwarts. From there, with a quickly acquired and highly motivated goblin escort, they trooped to the Castle through a steady, hard rain. Then she followed the Healer to the Hospital Wing through the Castle's debris-strewn corridors.

Changing into her familiar Healer trainee's robe, Hermione avoided having to talk about her own harrowing experiences through the simple stratagem of listening to others describe theirs.

From Madam Pomfrey, Hermione learnt the shocking truth - Headmaster Dumbledore was dead - killed by the invading Death Eaters.

From Hagrid she found out that Death Eaters had burnt down his hut, killed Rotfang, his replacement boar hound, and briefly forced him to flee into the Forbidden Forest to avoid a similar fate.

According to Shak, it had been impossible to mobilise the D.A. with Harry, Neville, Ron, Ginny, Luna - and of course her - all missing and unaccounted for. Most of the staff, and virtually all the elves, had been pinned down in a desperate, touch-and-go firefight.

Literally.

A handful of Death Eaters had set part of Hogwarts alight with Fiendfyre. In the Castle's magic-rich environment, a catastrophic conflagration was barely averted - through liberal use of the newly developed Fluvius Azote charm and the elves' magical vacuum equipment. Hermione's recent invention of the charm that saved Hogwarts went unsaid, but not unacknowledged.

Blaise Zabini recounted that, in the chaos of Slytherin house's evacuation (the Fiendfyre began only a storey or two directly above their common room), some of the Snakes' more pro-Death Eater faction unsuccessfully tried to assault Daphne Greengrass. Blaise had been caught in the crossfire, he claimed, and gained quite an appreciation of duelling skills taught in the D.A.

Before Hermione could learn any more from Blaise, Professor Vector was brought in, hideously wounded and barely breathing. Shortly thereafter, the door flew open and Jazzy led a group of mostly Ravenclaw casualties into the infirmary. Hermione was pleased to discover that at least some of the D.A. had given an account of themselves against the Death Eaters.

She was tending to them when Harry finally showed up, along with Ron and Neville. Intensely aware of his presence, Hermione was torn between disappointment, as he kept his distance, and relief that Harry had not suffered any serious injuries.

She almost violated her Healer's Oath, though, when Harry started to leave. Addressing him telepathically for the first time since … that … she asked him to stay. She was not at all confident he would, but thankfully he did, remaining where she could see him.

Soon she was treating Neville for a Cutting Curse to the midsection - fortunately not deep enough to penetrate the peritoneum - and hearing a shocking eye-witness description of Draco Malfoy's cold-blooded murder of a weakened Albus Dumbledore….

"Umm … Neville?" Jazzy's hesitant voice sounded from behind. "Ginny left this note for you…. I forgot…."

"That's okay." Neville sounded world weary as he blankly accepted the folded bit of parchment.

Hermione concentrated on closing Neville's wound as he started to read….

Unexpectedly Neville's breath hitched, almost causing her to end her Dermameld Charm spell too soon. Hermione glanced up. Neville was wobbly. His mouth gaped in shock, his eyes glazed in disbelief, and a strange purple anger suffused his features.

"Neville…?"

Thus reminded of his own existence, Neville's colour drained away even more precipitously, and his hands started shaking. Breathing shallowly, he dropped heavily back onto a hospital bed next to him - nearly reopening his wound, not to mention almost sitting on the unconscious Filch.

Hermione wondered if he still knew she was there.

"Great Merlin's ghost," Neville rasped hoarsely. "How could…?"

"Neville…?"

His lips trembled. Tears began forming at the corners of his hazel eyes, where they mixed with a sudden cold sweat.

"…what…?"

Mechanically, he thrust the note at Hermione before she uttered another word. "Here, you're more clever than I am."

She took it from his shaky grasp.

Dear Neville

Everything's a lie. He's back. Possessing me. Tom. Worse than before. Can't hold out for long. Have to stop Tom. Never again.

All my fault. Brewed the HBP's Love Potion. Draco's idea. No, mine. Maybe Tom's. I wanted it. My fault. Harry never loved me. Only you did. I loved Harry. Hurt him. Hurt you. Hurt everyone.

I'm not myself. Malfoy let in Death Eaters. Too weak to stop.

Hurt Hermione, too. Draught of Despair. Won't hurt anybody ever again. Nor will Tom.

Goodbye

Ginny

Anger and pain, in equal measure, swelled in Hermione's breast as she read Ginny Weasley's barely legible parting words.

She had betrayed them! Betrayed Harry! Betrayed her! Betrayed who knows how many others!?

Neville was essentially Healed. "Take over," she choked out to nobody in particular. Hermione's eyes locked on Harry, still slumped in a chair near the front door. Somehow she kept herself under control and marched purposefully to where he sat.

Harry looked up at the sound of her none-too-subtle approach. "Hermione? Do you want…?"

"I-I don't want anything right now, Harry," Hermione answered, her words unnaturally even, `except to curl up in a ball and not move for a week,' she added to herself.

Hermione thrust Ginny's now more than slightly crumpled note at him. "You need to read this." When he took it from her, Hermione collapsed in the chair next to him, her face in her hands, oblivious to everything and everyone else.

Harry read, and as he did the others could feel magic begin radiating off him - first anger, then fear, then agony, then … nothing at all as he slammed shut his iron gates of Occlumency to prevent the possibility of yet another catastrophe in a day filled with them.

This time, at Hogwarts, Harry had no Bellatrix Lestrange to serve as a convenient outlet for what he was feeling. He stood up, rigidly. "Let's get out of here," he hissed through tightly clenched teeth.

The heavy Hospital Wing doors flew open of their own accord, slamming loudly into the walls. Harry barely heard them.

"Oi! Wait up!" Ron yelped from behind.

"Ronald, you're supposed to be in traction until morning," Luna admonished, but made no serious attempt to restrain her boyfriend. "If you keep abusing that ankle, all the magic in the world won't mend it."

"Don't care right now, Luv. Something's badly off with Harry."

Harry glanced at Hermione. She returned a long-suffering nod of assent. Ron (and Luna, if she wished) could participate in whatever was about to happen.

They made a motley crew, with Luna perhaps the most normally dressed - undoubtedly a first. Harry's armoured shirt flapped loosely open. Hermione wore blood-spattered Healer Trainee's garb. Neville was unselfconsciously bare-chested, clad only in a pair of jeans and his open, billowing robes, whilst sporting an angry, just-Healed curse mark to his side. Ron had inexpertly self-conjured a loose-fitting shirt and trousers from what had been tie-across-the-back in-patient's robes. He walked with a pronounced limp and had a Restraint Charm glowing brightly orange on his lame ankle. Jazzy remained tightly vested in full goblin armour.

They reached the Ceremonial Library, which had escaped essentially unscathed from the Death Eaters' depredations. Seething, Harry plopped into one of the squashy chairs in the centre, not far from where, months ago, they had first made contact with the Sisters of the Moon.

Without waiting for the others to seat themselves, Harry started swearing. "Goddam Ginny Weasley dosed me with Snape's goddam Love Potion … and you too, Hermione, with bloody Draught of Despair…."

"Wait a minute," Hermione interrupted. "Who said anything about Snape?"

"Fucking Snape did," Harry uttered the name with utmost loathing. "This only confirms what that turncoat bastard bragged about when I duelled him on the roof…."

Disdainfully, he threw Ginny's confession to the floor, where Luna quickly Summoned it and shared Ginny's words with Ron.

Shocked that Harry had duelled Snape alone, Hermione's eyes darted to Ron, and then Neville. Silently, they both confirmed Harry's latest derring-do.

"Harry, you could have been killed up there."

"Yeah, but I was too busy trying to kill Snape to worry about that. Finally he Apparated off," Harry grumbled. "The goblins almost got him…."

Then Harry remembered something else. "Not only that, he told me…. He is the bloody Half-Blood Prince. You were right, Hermione, the Prince was a damn Death Eater…."

It was Ron's turn to gape.

"…Wrapped us around their damn fingers."

Before Ron could articulate anything, Neville broke in urgently, "What about Ginny? That wasn't just a confession. That read like a suicide note…."

"Well, what about Ginny?" Harry threw Neville's words back at him. "If Voldemort's possessed her, maybe it's for the best. She played us all for fools; she strung you along…."

"NO, GODDAM IT!!" Neville exploded, refusing Harry's logic absolutely. "None of that matters right now." He tried to reach a plainly vengeful Harry. "We're not her judge, jury, and executioner…."

Neville was not alone in his concern. "Harry, mate, I hate to say it, but I'm with Nev on this. She's still my baby sister. I hate what she says she did, but I still love her as part of my family…."

"She was in cahoots with effing Malfoy behind all our backs," Harry scathingly stood his ground. "Malfoy killed Dumbledore not much more than an hour ago…."

"She was possessed, dammit," Neville began, still having trouble controlling his temper. He gave Harry up as a lost cause and turned to someone he prayed would be more sympathetic. "Hermione, please," Neville pleaded. "You took pity on Cho…."

All eyes turned to the cleverest amongst them. She paled. "Think about what you're asking of me, Neville," she responded in a hoarse whisper. "I'm not a bloody robot. You didn't have to see that - that little … slut in the very act of seducing Harry away…."

Hermione seemed moments from breaking down - or blowing up.

Harry felt like throttling Neville, but wisely kept quiet. For the first time in literally weeks, Harry put a supportive arm around Hermione.

"…Because of what Ginny did, Viktor is dead for the sin of loving me more than I could love him. And I came within seconds of becoming Voldemort's latest Horcrux…."

Neville and Ron both gasped, the latter looking positively nauseous. Until then, neither had known exactly what kind of horror Hermione had experienced.

"I'm, I'm s-s-sorry," Neville stammered as he stepped backwards. "It's just … someone else has a lot in common with Krum…. I'll go find her myself…."

"No, Nev. I didn't mean to say that I wouldn't … just that you should know how hard this is for me…."

"The Chamber of Secrets."

Everyone turned and stared at Luna, who until that moment had said nothing.

"She knows Tom Riddle was defeated there once before," Luna explained. "If I were in her situation, that's where I'd go to finish the job."

"Oh, Merlin's ghost - GINNY!" Neville took off at a dead run towards the stairway that led to the Chamber, his robes flapping behind him, and with everyone else in hot pursuit.

Save one.

Jazzy alone was hesitant to follow. She agreed with Harry's reflexive position, before Neville began pleading for Ginny's life. Hermione eventually would relent - she was too soft that way - and following her Harry would give in. As an outsider, with neither familial nor emotional ties to Ginny Weasley, Jazzy believed that the redheaded double-crossing witch deserved to die alone and in agony for the sheer enormity of what she had set in motion.

Ginny herself, after all, agreed with her.

But after Jazzy had walked halfway to Gryffindor Tower, curiosity and a novel sense of responsibility overcame her. She was interested in how events would ultimately play out. For once in her life, she sensed that this really was her business. It involved people who had shown more kindness to her than anyone else she could remember.

She turned around.

* * * *

Harry half hoped that, for once, Luna's eerie intuition was off the mark. If asked, he probably could not have articulated exactly how he felt about his treacherous ex-girlfriend, but if she were found dead by her own hand, Harry would not have lost much sleep.

No such luck.

With Dumbledore's gargoyle blown to bits, they had no trouble accessing the Chamber. Ginny's unconscious and barely breathing body lay in plain sight at the base of the massive statue of Salazar Slytherin. Luck - a relative term - was with them. Ginny had chosen to poison herself. An open, half-empty can of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover lay tipped on its side next to her.

That she had consumed a great deal of the caustic substance was graphically evident. An acrid, slightly soapy odour, noticeable upon approach, surrounded her. Every so often violent thrashing wracked her body as her muscles seized and spasmed involuntarily.

Ginny's mouth was barely visible under a thick scum of bloody froth. Her long hair was matted, and her cheeks thick with blisters and open sores from contact with the corrosive powder.

For her final agonies, Ginny had chosen to wrap herself in the one possession that meant the most to her - the shawl Harry had given her for Christmas. Having selected that shawl for a clueless Harry (who had planned something Quidditch related), Hermione was staggered to see it. Had she somehow unwittingly encouraged Ginny…?

Hermione's simultaneous realisation that the shawl might also be Ginny's salvation shoved such recriminations to the far reaches of her mind. The balls dangling from its either end were, after all, bezoars. Any one of them would quickly counteract the effects of Ginny's self-poisoning.

Having taken the Healer's Oath, Hermione was honour-bound to try to save Ginny's life - especially once Ginny herself had provided the means to do so.

Of course, once the bitch had recovered, that would be a whole different story. Azkaban was too good for her….

"Neville, I think we can overcome the most immediate crisis," Hermione started to explain, pushing her retributive thoughts aside. "Ginny's shawl … I helped Harry select it. The baubles on either end are bezoars. They should counteract the poison she's swallowed. But we're still faced with the tougher nut, because if Ginny's note is to be believed…."

Hermione paused because, upon hearing the blessed news about the bezoars, Neville had rushed forward to Ginny's side. Heedless of any risk from the caustic chemicals Ginny had ingested, he wiped her face and mouth clean with his bare hands. Then he ripped one of the baubles loose from her shawl.

With a backwards, "I sure hope you're right," comment to Hermione, Neville shoved the bezoar down Ginny's burnt and bloody throat.

Hermione was worried. "Neville, have you considered that…?"

Harry was alarmed. "Neville, what are you doing? Have you thought…?"

Neville refused to be dissuaded. "I'm trying to save Ginny's life," he replied brusquely to his two friends. "You'd do nothing less if this were Hermione, or you if this were Harry…."

Everyone backed off. Neville was undeniably accurate in his rejoinder to their expressed doubts, even if his premise was flawed, given Ginny's actions.

`Come over here,' Hermione Legilimenced to Harry, `and bring the others. Don't say anything….'

Putting his finger theatrically to his lips in the universal sign for quiet, Harry waved to Ron and Luna to follow him.

They did.

The bezoar worked its magic. Ginny's seizures abated quickly. The burns on her face healed equally rapidly. Her breathing grew stronger and more regular. Neville sat determinedly next to her, completely bare-chested, having stripped off his already ruined robes to form a makeshift pillow for her head.

The others perched on various parts of Long, Tall Sally's podiatric anatomy, sitting behind Neville. Everyone was interested in what the confessed Love Potioner would have to say once she regained consciousness, especially Harry and Hermione,

They did not have long to wait.

Ginny started to stir - groaning as she did. Neville whispered her name, but nothing seemed to help. Instead, Ginny lapsed back into unconsciousness for another thirty seconds or so before once again beginning to move. She let out a soft sigh, almost a whimper.

"Ginny?" Neville asked gently.

"Oh … Neville…? You - you found me in time…. I - I don't believe it…. I wanted to die…." She groggily reached out and took his hand.

"Well, you didn't die, and you can thank yourself for that," Neville replied, as he closed his hand around hers.

"I only wish I were that strong, Neville," Ginny sighed. "I just couldn't take it any more … all the deception. It wasn't right. You know, it's always been you…."

"Maybe, but I must say that you bringing this shawl made it easy for me - since it comes with bezoars…."

Behind Neville, the others waited. Neville's body, and the direction Ginny sprawled, blocked her from sight.

`What's she doing?' Harry Legilimenced to Hermione.

Unable to keep a waspish tone from even her silent voice, Hermione commented, `It appears that she's trying to reconnect with Neville.'

"I don't like this," Luna whispered in Hermione's ear from the other side. "Her aura's way, way off...."

Meanwhile, Neville's last comment hit home.

"I wasn't thinking of that at all," Ginny answered. "It was a gift from … how did you even know about that?"

"You were lucky. Hermione told me," Neville revealed. He looked behind him and shifted his position so that Ginny saw, for the first time, that they had company.

"H - H - Harry!" Ginny gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry! I … I couldn't stand it any longer. Everything was a lie…. That's why I tried to kill myself. Please don't hate me. I can't apologise enough…."

"Then … then just don't try," Harry answered testily, fighting with his own emotions.

"Neville, Luna's an empath," Hermione intervened, carefully avoiding addressing Ginny directly. "Is it okay if she checks her out?"

"Umm … yeah, of course," Neville haltingly agreed. He moved away from Ginny, who was still lying on her side. Luna hopped off Salazar Slytherin's stone instep and approached.

Looking pained, Ginny sat up and extended her arm, offering it to Luna for examination.

Luna reached out with her own arm and grasped Ginny's forearm. She almost cried out in pain at the evil she felt….

WHAM!

Luna did cry out in pain and surprise as Ginny punched her in the face as hard as she could, drawing blood. As Luna staggered, Ginny grabbed her roughly and swung the dazed Ravenclaw around. She used the girl's forward momentum to regain her footing while at the same time forcing Luna to her knees.

In the same instant Ginny had her wand out and pointed squarely at the side of Luna's head. In a grotesque voice, sounding like Ginny's but clearly belonging to someone else, she addressed her small audience.

"All of you - drop your wands now, or this one's dead before she hits the floor. Both of them, Potter…."

"Ginny…?" Neville's strangled voice answered.

"Back off, Long-boring!" Ginny jerked Luna's neck around so that Ginny's elbow pointed in Neville's vicinity. Her elbow emitted a nasty Cutting Hex aimed at him. It missed, but served its purpose.

Only in her fifth year, Ginny Weasley had never learnt to do magic with other body parts.

Neville leapt backwards as Voldemort's Horcrux, in full possession of Ginny's mind and body, repeated his demand. "Now drop them!!"

Harry's wand went clattering to the floor as he explained, "I only have the one." The others' followed.

"So," Tom/Ginny hissed, "I suppose you've figured everything out. She was always afraid that you would - especially the Mudblood. Well, you're too late…."

Dragging a bleeding Luna with her as a human shield, Tom/Ginny manœuvred towards the door.

"Did you bring a basilisk fang for me?" Tom/Ginny taunted. "There is no other way, you know. I learnt that from Slughorn, that insipid excuse for a Slytherin. Perhaps he's told you the same thing."

`Harry, Riddle has access to Ginny's memories - he knows where the new door is,' Hermione silently communicated with Harry.

"You won't fool me a second time, Potter. Stay right there, where I can see you!" Tom/Ginny ordered as he pulled a helpless Luna backwards in the general direction of the exit.

Then she ordered, "Hands straight up over your heads!" Following Harry's lead, everyone complied. Tom/Ginny carefully kept Luna's body between herself and Harry and Hermione, whom she (rightly) suspected of also knowing wandless magic. She spied the culvert full of dark water that ran lazily through the Chamber.

"All right, get in," she motioned to the culvert. "Now…! I killed my own parents; think of what I could do to this sorry excuse for a witch." She jammed her wand, its tip alight with the orange glare of some unknown, unspoken curse, into Luna's temple.

"P-p-please…," gasped a terrified Luna.

With a splash Ron jumped into the tepid water. Something hissed and he screamed in pain as he submerged. Ron emerged dogpaddling. It was too deep for him to stand.

Tom/Ginny smiled evilly. Keeping them swimming was good. "All of you, like you, Long-boring!"

With an even louder splash Neville half jumped, half fell into the water.

At the same time, something moved behind Tom/Ginny's back.

`Did … did you see what I saw?' Hermione shakily Legilimenced to Harry.

`Think so,' he returned tersely, searching for some sort of opening and finding none. The thoroughly possessed girl's wand remained firmly pressed against Luna's skull.

"You, too, lover boy," Tom/Ginny sneered. "Or I'll turn her into a vegetable so fast…."

`Do as he says, but make the biggest splash you can,' Hermione silently directed.

Harry did, almost cannonballing into the black water.

"And now you, pathetic Mudblood…. Actually…." Tom/Ginny's eyes gleamed fiery red.

Only Hollywood slow motion could sort out what happened next.

With scorpion-like speed, Tom/Ginny whipped her wand in Hermione's direction. "Ava…"

"NOOO!" Harry screamed as he began pin-wheeling his hands.

"...da…"

Hermione reacted, diving for the floor, to the side away from Ginny/Tom's wand.

"Stup…."

Luna draped herself on Tom/Ginny's outstretched arm, trying to block the deadly spell with her own body. Her self-sacrificing action had the unfortunate effect of shoving the wandtip - now glowing deathly green - downward, in the same direction that the intended target of the curse was ducking.

With a roar, water from the culvert began surging forward and upwards as Fifth-Element magic generated a mini-tsunami.

"…Ked…"

The crest of the surging water passed over Hermione's head as she flopped to the stone floor - presenting a smaller, but still totally exposed target. Near the base of the wall of water, a pair of hands emerged; flat together as if in prayer.

"efy!!" Glowing fiercely crimson, a Stunner slammed squarely into Tom/Ginny's back.

Propelled by a massive, unseen force, Harry's body knifed through the wave. His hands reached, fingers extended, towards Hermione's still rolling form. An almost inhuman "NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!" tore from his throat.

"…av…."

Tom/Ginny went boneless and collapsed; the Killing Curse dying, uncompleted, on her lips.

Harry flopped to a clumsy landing atop Hermione. His momentum sent him skidding over her and face-first into the stone floor.

Tom/Ginny and Luna likewise tumbled to the Chamber's stone just as the mini-tsunami crashed into them both.

"Aaagghhh!" Neville and Ron shrieked helplessly as water from either side of the culvert poured in to fill the gap created by Harry's magic. The current carried them helplessly along until the culvert filled again and the flowing water's force dissipated.

A surge of water rolled across the Chamber, washing Tom/Ginny and Luna both backwards some twenty metres, before the wave dissipated.

An angry "Incercerous!" rang out. Stout ropes wound their way around Tom/Ginny's limp body.

"I always thought coming down here was a bad idea." Her wandtip still glowing, Jazzy stepped into view from behind one of the Chamber's many stone snake statues. "Thanks for covering…."

"Accio wands," Harry breathlessly incanted, simply extending an arm. From wherever the mini-tsunami had swept them, everyone's wands, including his own, shot into Harry's outstretched hand.

"Hey!" Jazzy yelled as her wand was yanked from her grasp. "I'm on your side!"

"Sorry … and thank you. You saved Hermione's life … and mine … and probably us all…." Harry barely managed to say as, panting, he climbed off Hermione. He turned and offered a rather wet hand to pull her to her feet.

"Oh … Harry…." Hermione could stand it no longer. She stayed on her knees and burst into tears.

At the sight of her weeping, Harry's own emotional bulwarks gave way, and he sank to the floor beside her. "I thought you were dead…." He began crying loudly - great wracking sobs - as he gathered Hermione into his arms.

Ron had pushed himself mostly out of the culvert. He tried to stand, but collapsed. Luna rushed to him and fell on him in a heap. They both started bawling. When Luna had thrown herself over that green, glowing wandtip, neither Ron nor Luna herself had expected her to survive.

A dripping Neville crouched over Ginny's thoroughly restrained body. "Oh, Ginny, how could this happen…?" He joined in the keening as it now struck him that the love of his life was as good as dead…. Possessed by a Horcrux, there was no alternative….

"Okay, now what?" Jazzy shook her head at the lugubrious scene before her.

"Well, she's possessed by one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, no doubt about that," Ron admitted glumly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. "I thought I'd killed it in the Chamber - you know when. No such luck. I guess it went after the most vulnerable living thing…."

"But why…?" Neville beseeched, sounding broken. "She seemed like … well, herself…. That is, if I've ever known the real Ginny…."

"I think it was injured," Hermione offered. The thinking process helped reconnect her to reality. "The question is why did it resurface now, after all this time?"

"Goddam Malfoy," Ron growled. "Galleons to gobstones, it was him."

The others agreed.

"Okay, but the question remains," Jazzy brought everyone back around. "What do we do with Little Miss Voldemort, here?"

"Don't call her that," Neville snipped.

"I don't think there's anything we can do," Hermione sadly assessed the situation. "Nobody knows more about Horcruxes than Voldemort - the real one. And what he said when he was about to turn me into one…."

Neville blurted, "Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry…."

"Yes, but that's neither here nor there at the moment," Hermione kept going, as the mere act of talking helped her hold herself together. "Anyway, Voldemort plainly thought that only death could remove a Horcrux from a living being - like me, or Ginny. He hoped to force Harry into having to kill me…."

"I could never…," Harry mumbled, his face going white. "He would have won, then."

"Probably why he wanted to do it," Hermione continued. Reluctantly, she outlined the stark options. "I can't see any way around it. I suppose we should probably tell Professor McGonagall. She'll have to handle it from there…."

"Hermione…." Neville's face looked pained and ashen.

Ron had pulled himself into sitting position. "Are you sure?" he asked, suddenly wishing he were somewhere else.

"Don't know what other choice we have," Harry grimly supported her. "Both Dumbledore and Healer Huxley told me the same thing. Can't remove a Horcrux from anyone living without killing … er … it. Well, unless - well I did, but I blew up everything in sight…."

"Dammit, I know you're bloody right!" Neville exploded. "It's just … hell … you're Harry Potter and I'm, I'm just Neville Long-boring…." He directed to himself the same insult Tom/Ginny had recently sneered at him.

Hermione tried mollifying. "Neville, you don't…."

"No, I don't! I can't! I'm afraid I just can't do the sorts of impossible things like Harry here probably did to get you back safely."

Harry whirled about, fixing Neville with a crossways stare. Neville had no idea how badly Harry felt that he had failed at the Château. Hermione had rescued herself. "Neville, you don't know…."

Hearing Harry's voice, Neville turned his ire on him. "Maybe, but I'm not stupid … just damn useless. Hell, even though Ginny was supposedly your girlfriend, who did you rescue? Hermione. And now it's, `Oops, dreadfully sorry,' when it comes to Ginny. I told you you'd hurt her. It doesn't matter who you're with, and screw Snape's potion if that's what it was, you've only ever been in love with Hermione…. And me, I can't do shite….! And now, with no one to save her, Ginny has to die…."

Everyone was struck dumb by Neville's tirade, except one.

"Don't blame yourself, Neville. Voldemort, Dumbledore and Huxley don't know everything about Horcrux magic," Luna said in her usual breathless voice. Her calmness belied the ugly, swelling bruise that purpled her cheek and nearly closed her left eye.

"Only more than everyone else in the world, combined," Hermione put in.

"Doesn't matter, 'cause they sure as hell know more than us," Neville shook his head. His fight had fled with his outburst. Shoulders slumping in defeat, he grumbled, "To hell with it. I've … I'd rather do it myself, then. Better me than the damned Dementors…."

"What I'm saying is that there is another way," Luna persisted.

"Oh, Merlin, please no," Hermione whispered so softly that only Harry, standing close beside her, heard.

Luna turned and looked to Hermione. "I've said it before; it's the primary function of the position…."

Neville gaped - indeed, everyone save the two witches did.

"What's she talking about?" Harry asked softly.

"No! It can't be…!" Hermione shrieked.

For the first time since Ginny had punched Luna, Neville felt hope. "Yeah, what?" he croaked.

Harry laid a supportive hand on the small of her back. "Hermione, you don't…."

Hermione trembled, and not just from Harry's protective touch. "I - I - I used it to save you, Harry, when Ron cursed you. He used a Dark spell … I was able…."

"You can remove evil?" Ron jumped in. "Please, Hermione, I only have one sister…."

"Please, Hermione," Neville echoed. He was even more insistent. Approaching Hermione, he fell to his knees. "Please. I'll give you anything. Any price. A future promise like I gave Harry. An oath of fealty. Anything - just, please, don't let her die…." He was again on the edge of tears.

"Oh, Merlin." Hermione's fingers pressed into her forehead as she felt the massive stone walls of the Chamber closing in on her. "Do you have the slightest conception what you're asking me to do?" Burning animus over her month of deep, dark despair fuelled her burgeoning anger. "That bitch fed Harry a Death Eater's Love Potion - she potioned me - the Draught of Despair! Because of her, I came within seconds of the same fate! I nearly became a Horcrux tonight. And she tried to kill me, again, not ten minutes ago! And now…."

"She didn't try to kill you, Hermione," Neville cut her off in mid rant, "that was Voldemort. It's all Voldemort. Still, I see how you feel…."

"You have no idea how I feel!" she screamed, feeling put-upon and pushed beyond any reasonable limit.

Neville bowed his head and turned away. "Then I give up. I can't save her. All I can do now is ensure that she dies as humanely as possible…."

"Hermione, don't," Ron tried to intervene.

Luna shut him down. "Ronald, don't. It's her choice. She has to want to for it to work…."

"Why me, dammit? I can't take this anymore," Hermione wailed. She burrowed her face into Harry's chest and again burst into tears.

"Everybody, stay the hell away!" Harry angrily ordered. Effortlessly, he lifted Hermione's unresisting body into his arms and stalked off, towards the opposite end of the Chamber. Once he had put a row or two of carved snake statues between them and the rest, he conjured a privacy shield, Imperturbed it, and cast Muffliato for good measure.

Softening up a block of stone with a Cushioning Charm, he gently lowered a still softly weeping Hermione onto it. Untangling her arms from his, he took her hands and began. "Hermione before I say anything else, I will support you absolutely, no matter which way you go on this. If you decide to save her, I'll help you any way I can. If you don't, then I'll tell anybody and everybody to sod off…. Just say the word…."

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry you have to see me this way," Hermione gasped through her tears. "Am I such a horrible, vindictive person…?"

"No, you're the…."

It was only a rhetorical question. Hermione plunged on. "…Neville's on the bloody floor in front of me, begging me to save Ginny's life, and all I can think of is how I never want to see that awful back-stabbing hag again for as long as I live. I'm supposed to be a Healer, dammit all! I took an oath! But the thought of having anything to do with her, after what she did to me - to us - makes my skin crawl! I can't…."

"Then you don't have to," Harry reassured her. "I'll go out there and tell them Ginny's just gone too far. The Dementors can have her…."

"Harry, no."

"Let me do it," Harry repeated. "You've been through enough. If Neville and Ron are going to hate someone, let it be me…."

Seeing Harry prepared to shoulder a blame she considered hers alone changed everything. Hermione did not want Neville, Ron, or anyone, to hate Harry. She took a deep breath. "No, Harry, let me do it, then…."

"What?"

"Save … well you know … her."

"Really?"

"I think … yes. If I'm to be a Healer, I'm honour-bound to use my best efforts."

"I suppose," Harry grudgingly consented. "And you say I have a saving people thing?"

"Harry, you just dove in front of a Killing Curse…."

"We're talking about you, here, not me."

"Umm … well, I'm supposed to separate my personal emotions from…."

"Well, excuse me!" Harry interrupted. "Don't you think that, after what she's done, anything involving you, me, and Ginny has to be personal?"

"Yes … but my saving her life doesn't have to concern you."

Harry protested, "Well, I have a Krup in this hunt, too, since she's wronged me worse even than you…."

"Worse? Really?"

"Hermione - she violated me! Personally. The more I think about what she did, I feel … well, if it happened to you, I'd call it rape…."

"So, because you're male you don't believe…." Harry's pained expression stopped her from pursuing the point. She waited for him to gather himself and speak.

"No," he barely whispered. "I'm just - well, I guess, ashamed to admit it."

"Harry, don't be."

"Can't help it…. So you still want to help Ginny?"

Hermione could not believe what looked like Harry's - no, both of theirs - complete flip flop. "So now you're trying to stop me?" Hermione asked archly.

"No, not really, I guess…. I only want to enforce your condition - and one of my own."

"What condition?"

"Exactly what you said. I never want to see Ginny's face again, either."

"You mean, if she lives…?"

"She ends up somewhere far, far away - permanently. Think about it. It's for the best. How much to blame her, rather than Voldemort, dammit, I can't say…. With what she's confessed to, and what she just tried to do, she's facing I don't know how long in Azkaban…."

"That's for sure." Hermione agreed, once she considered Harry's point. "She used an unknown Death Eater potion, Snape's, on you, and a … umm … probably Schedule I controlled Potion on me. That's probably ten years, right there…."

"And she just tried to AK you."

"Life, then…. And since she's mixed up with Malfoy, who knows what else she might have done?"

Harry nodded, pleased that she had given voice to what was his other major concern. "Which brings me to condition number two - my condition."

"That is?"

"I don't think she did, but if Ginny helped Dumbledore's murderers get into the Castle, all bets are off. What she did to us is our business, but if she has Dumbledore's blood on her hands, she'll get the Dementor's Kiss, and deserve it."

Hermione could almost feel Harry's anger, bubbling just below the surface of his currently calm demeanour. "I hate to say it, but you're right."

"So you agree?"

"Yes, but how do we…?"

Harry's countenance brightened a bit. "We release her little confession as if she succeeded. I'll get the goblins to help Neville sneak her out. McAllister can perform an Unbreakable Vow. All we need is a fake body…."

"I'm pretty good at Transfiguration, and I think I know what we can use…."

"Done, then?"

"Yes."

"One last thing."

"Okay."

Harry reached under his still damp cut-off t-shirt and yanked out of his navel….

"Oh, my! The rings. Harry, what's this all about? You mean you…?"

"Kept them pretty damn close once you returned them, yes," he finished her sentence for her. "I just … couldn't bear giving them up. I'm not asking about this one." He poked at the engagement ring, its jewels oddly inverted. "I can hope, but I know I have to earn your trust again. Umm…."

"Harry, don't. Not now," Hermione cautioned him.

Harry backed off, knowing - or at least guessing - how much pain he must have caused her. "Okay … nothing more than I deserved," he admitted. "But please keep the other. The Auror ring is yours. I never felt more miserable and useless than I did today, once you'd gone missing and there was nothing I could do to help…."

Her face relaxed, "Oh, that must have been horrible … sure was for me." She reached out and took the Auror ring, being careful not to touch the other. "What did you do to it?"

"Long story, best told some other time," Harry tried to avoid any more tangents. "It was a charmed alarm for an attack on the Château … Voldemort's. Hermione, you mentioned `us' a bit ago…. Do you think there could be? That's one thing I think Neville was right about…."

"Let's talk about that later, Harry," Hermione coolly deflected his question. "Right now, we have a job to do."

Harry and Hermione returned to the rest of the group. With him playing "bad Auror" and her playing "good Auror," they were able to gain acceptance of their compromise plan in relatively short order. Luna helped, pointing out that, even assuming everything worked, the Ministry would never believe that they could have removed the Horcrux. Hermione, a Druid High Priestess?

In the end, nobody could deny that, unless she went into exile, Ginny would at best grow old in Azkaban, and that assumed she could avoid a Dementor's Kiss.

If Ginny survived expulsion of the Horcrux - a big if - Neville agreed to hide her in some secret place only he knew about. Harry's majordomo, Jerry McAllister, would administer two Unbreakable Vows, one between Harry and Neville, and the other between Neville and Ginny (since Harry wanted no direct dealing with the traitorous Weasley) to enforce her agreement and banishment. Neville could send, or take, her anywhere in the world, besides Europe.

A lifetime's exile.

Luna privately confirmed that those arrangements - unlike Neville's prior offers - did not transgress Druidic prohibitions upon the High Priestess accepting emoluments.

As cover for the plan, Jazzy would return Ginny's confession/suicide note to Ginny's bed, where someone would eventually discover it. A Displia and an A priori later, the note was as good as new. As far as the press and public were concerned, Ginny would have succeeded in taking her own life. At his discretion, Neville could inform Ginny's parents of the true situation, or not, but he agreed to keep mum until at least a year and a day had passed.

A body being necessary, Hermione employed her human Transfiguration skills to create one. For raw material, Harry used the fortified version of Accio he had mastered to Summon the body of Hagrid's dead boarhound, Rotfang.

Hermione knew Healer's spells well enough to infuse poison realistically into, and throughout, the fake body. A surprisingly satisfying Lesson 128 spell mimicked the Horcrux's destructive demise.

In creating Ginny's faked corpse from a dead dog, Hermione dispensed what she considered to be a modicum of poetic justice.

Jazzy did not get to see any of that. Harry gave her his own note, authenticated with his signet ring, and deputised her to ask a few of the goblins who had essentially seized control of the Castle's security to come to the Chamber - not more than a dozen. Ginny would receive one last benefit from goblin Cloaking magic.

Then Jazzy was to return to Gryffindor Tower with Ginny's note.

The most important task of all remained - expulsion of the Horcrux without killing Ginny.

That was the plan, anyway.

But few things ever go as planned.

Initially things went better than planned. Conjuring less bulky restraints for Ginny was relatively simple. Hermione elongated her sleeves, and Neville tied them firmly around Ginny's waist. They kept her thoroughly Stunned - nobody wanted Ginny to know how the Horcrux was removed, only that it was. Neville floated Ginny's body down the corridor towards the Founders' Chamber, letting Luna and Hermione take the lead. Ron limped along at the rear.

The closer they could get to the Gnomon-Cenotaph, the better.

For whatever reason, the wards to the Founder's Chamber were down. Creeping slowly, expecting at any moment to encounter some sort of barrier, they crept all the way into the Chamber itself. Reaching the Blue Stone, they were able to deposit Ginny neatly in its person-sized depression.

Things almost went awry when, after conferring with Luna, Hermione announced that the subject of a magical exorcism of this sort (she did not mention the Druids specifically) had to be quite naked. For different reasons, all three males in the party found that requirement extremely objectionable.

Grudgingly, Neville and Harry acquiesced. Ron outright refused to participate until Hermione agreed to conjure him a set of very dark glasses. Peeved at his immaturity, she conjured an outrageously pink-framed monstrosity that only Rita Skeeter could love.

Ron took them without hesitating.

The preliminaries over, Hermione nervously took up the position of honour. Luna stood behind her, still sporting her ugly bruises, to assist with the Keltoi spellwork. "Okay," Hermione began. "If this works, what do we do with the Horcrux?"

"I've been thinking about that," Harry responded from the foot of the Stone. He already had both of his wands unsheathed. "I think that damn shawl would fill the bill."

Feather Light and Sticking Charms suspended Ginny's shawl from the apex of the ceiling - directly above its unconscious owner.

Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. "Ron, Neville - once … whatever comes out, does, I'll handle the Horcrux itself, but you need to slip this over Ginny and hold it tight. You'll need to protect her from any fallout…."

"Why can't we do that now?" Ron wanted to know. "That way I could lose these shades."

"Umm … what are you planning, Harry?" Neville asked warily.

"I want to make damn sure that thing has only one place to go - and stays away from all of us. To push it in the right direction, I'm going to use something really, really cold…." He and Hermione exchanged knowing looks.

"Umm … okay."

"You have to pass the Cloak beneath the Horcrux, Ron," Harry told him. "So keep the shades for now. Then he turned to the mæstro of the upcoming event.

"You ready Hermione?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"You know how to start," Luna whispered in her ear. "Search for the Stone; this step's easy, since you can touch it…."

Hermione closed her eyes and sought the telltale feeling that she was familiar with from three prior uses.

Nothing.

Gripping the Stone with both hands, she concentrated with all her might, a cold sweat breaking on her brow.

Still nothing. With Ginny's life hanging in the balance, and her best friends all watching her expectantly, Hermione had no idea what was wrong.

She started to tremble.

Luna approached her from behind. "Hermione, is something off?"

Through gritted teeth, Hermione hissed, "I - I can't … feel a thing, even when I touch it…."

Putting a hand on Hermione's arm, Luna was left almost breathless by the intensity of Hermione's efforts. Quickly letting go, Luna briefly lost her balance. She braced herself against the Stone.

Luna's jaw dropped. Powerful magic thrummed through her, calling her, inviting her….

She had found the Stone.

"Hermione," she whispered. "I don't know how or why, but I'm channeling the Stone…."

"Oh, thank Merlin … take over, please. You know this all so much better than I."

Everyone else was nearly dumfounded when Hermione stepped back. "I can't … but Luna can…," she breathed, exhausted. Hermione slumped against the far wall, looking forlorn and beaten - yet unmistakably relieved.

As Luna started an incantation nobody could follow, Harry Legilimenced. `If Luna can do it, I'm overjoyed. It should be her, anyway….'

`I hope so, but if she can't, they'll all blame me,' she fretted.

`Out of our hands, I reckon,' Harry shrugged. `Can you help me with the shields?'

Desperate to be useful, Hermione nodded and positioned herself at the opposite end of the Stone from Harry. She overlooked Ginny's head; Harry her feet.

The Stone began glowing, first a deep blue, but steadily brightening. Harry tried pacing Luna, but the cadence was so unfamiliar that he stopped and simply watched. Slowly, a luminescent, sky blue liquid began percolating into the Stone's depression, surrounding Ginny's nude silhouette.

As Luna built to a crescendo, Ginny's body started shivering and shaking.

The glowing blue liquid responded with tendrils that, seemingly alive, crawled up Ginny's sides and held her fast. They snaked their way across the top of her, linking up. As Luna's unintelligible chants continued, the tendrils inched all the way across her, gradually covering her legs, arms, torso, breasts, and even most of her face.

The glow illuminated Luna's face from below, making her appear almost spectral. She finished her incantation with a scream worthy of a banshee, and then went completely silent.

Ginny began convulsing - violently - or as violently as permitted by her pliant restraints. Although thoroughly Stunned, she grunted as she thrashed, her unseeing eyes bugged halfway out of their sockets. Finally, with a soft hissing sound, a foul-smelling reddish-black vapour emerged from her mouth, nose, ears - and other less polite orifices.

"Now!"

"Protego Omnibus!" Harry and Hermione incanted in unison. Their united spells formed a roughly funnel-like membrane that shielded everyone from the noxious remnant of Voldemort's soul.

"I'm lowering my end to go to the next phase," Harry advised. Bolstering himself with Occlumency, he steadied his wand.

"Finite! Frigidio Maximus!"

The oily black vapour pulsated as it rose to avoid Harry's spell.

"Now, put the Cloak over Ginny but keep it under the Horcrux!" Hermione ordered, with snow already falling onto the girl.

Ron swung into action, flinging across one edge of Harry's Invisibility Cloak. His throw was a bit off, as Ron's vision was obscured by his dark glasses, and his left leg was lame, but Neville still handled it with reasonable aplomb.

They pulled it tight just in time. Flakes of several atmospheric gasses, solidified by cryogenic temperatures from Harry's spell, began showering down. Every now and then Neville and Ron, who quickly doffed the pink sunglasses once the Cloak was safely in place, gave the Cloak a pop to remove any flakes that had not already re-evaporated.

Slowly, Harry raised the focal point of his spell, driving the erratically undulating free Horcrux steadily upwards - away from Ginny and towards the shawl hanging from the ceiling.

Harry breathed hard; his off arm braced on the corner of the Stone. Finally, a tiny, fathomlessly black spot appeared. Utterly devoid of anything radiating, or even reflecting, light, the Bose-Einstein condensate grew as Harry applied more Fifth Element power into creating absolute frigidity.

The bit of Voldemort's soul fled from the energy vacuum Harry's magic produced. Finally, when it contacted Ginny's shawl, the Horcrux emitted a soft, sucking sound and disappeared into the shelter that the object provided.

"Now, Hermione!" Harry grunted.

"Fluvius!" Hermione pointed her wand at the shawl. She doused it with water at the same time that Harry aimed his elemental freezing magic directly at the shawl. Within seconds, the Horcrux in the shawl was completely encased in a rock hard mantle of ice.

Neville's quick thinking - a just-in-time Arresto Momentum - prevented one final complication. The ice's added weight overtaxed the shawl's rather weak Sticking Charm. Had Neville's spell not stopped it, the ice-laden shawl probably would have struck Ginny with injurious force.

Hermione led a still thoroughly perplexed Luna away from the Stone as Harry conjured a large polystyrene container into which Ron Levitated the ice-encased shawl.

"What next?" Ron asked Harry wearily.

"Seal this up. Stash it somewhere safe with the goblins for a couple of days. Once things have calmed down, I intend to give that thing a thorough cleansing - using crystallised Basilisk venom for detergent."

Harry turned to Neville. "She's all yours. Get her the hell out of here. Jazzy should have summoned some goblins and given them my instructions to help you both steal away undetected. I'll be in touch about the vows and other stuff."

Finally, he turned to Hermione. "We have a lot to talk about, but not until both of us get some sleep."

* * * *

Author's notes: Absolutely, positively is a FedEx slogan

Draco destroyed the talisman that he had been using to control the Horcrux

When driven from their resting place, Horcruxes seek out living things

In Ch. 79 Draco supplied the Bowtruckle, and Ginny set it upon herself, knowing Harry would rescue her

Canossa, a town in Northern Italy, was where Holy Roman Emporer Henry IV, stood barefoot in the snow for three days in 1077 seeking forgiveness from Pope Gregory VII

Knowing not to get in Harry's way, separated Hermione from Ginny that night

A quetzalcoatlus is the largest known flying reptile from the Cretaceous Period; the idea is from Dinotopia

"It is a good day to die" - a line from the movie "Little Big Man"

The pilot's Death Eater hunting later helps Harry

Baker's dozen = 13

Many of the spells in the Death Eater battle were used in Ch. 49

The Kew Gardens firefight was in Ch. 23

Think of Harry as Spiderman

Sound and fury signifying nothing - from Macbeth

The smoking cupboard in Dumbledore's office controlled the Castle's wards; it was described in Ch. 36

Snape is still a double agent; as at the end of HBP, he uses his duel to advise and inform Harry during their final encounter

The finale of HBP is running in the background, including Snape as the Half-Blood Prince

Bewitch/ensnare is verbatim from Book 1

The Face Fogging Charm is courtesy of Daphne Greengrass in Ch. 77

Nothing but a flesh wound is a Monty Python reference

The D.A. training that saved Neville's life was in Ch. 72

In HBP, a Rotfang Conspiracy was one of Luna's wild ideas

Rotfang's death becomes convenient

Hermione first used Fluvius Azote in the duel in Ch. 49

Ginny sentenced herself to death; Harry and Hermione are more generous

Alkalai and flesh, with enough time, equals soap

Harry's shawl purchase was in Ch. 66

Long Tall Sally is a disrespectful nickname for the big Salazar Slytherin statue in the Chamber

The silent H/Hr communication, and Harry's big splash, were because they had noticed Jazzy, and were trying to aid her getting closer

Luna first told Hermione this in Ch. 80, when Hermione saved Harry from Ron's Sectumsempra

Hermione was afraid Harry was going to propose again, and maybe he would have

Neville's offer to give Hermione anything to save Ginny was a bribe in Druid eyes

A year and a day is a common legal period for various changes of status

Hermione exploded the head of the transfigured dog

They created a straitjacket for Ginny

The Founders' Chamber is described in Ch. 35

The Castle's emergency, backup wards did not reach the Founders' Chamber

Ron got Far Side glasses

Keltoi is the ancient Celtic tongue

In this fic, neither Harry nor Hermione are killers, nor are they vengeful. Ginny thus escapes with exile, although in her own mind she deserved to die

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