Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related terms and characters are the property of JK Rowling. The use of copyrighted material is for non-profit entertainment purposes only, and in no way constitutes a challenge to the existing copyright.

A/N: I am overjoyed at the number of you who stop and review my work, and I'm so glad that you're all enjoying it. This chapter was viciously difficult to write, and it took along time to go from separate scenes to a flowing chapter. I think everything's ironed out completely. Anyone who finds any glaring errors, please let me know, and I'll edit and re-upload.

For those who were craving Voldemort's return, be careful what you ask for.

~TOW

YEAR 2: Playing Chess with the Devil

=============================

The wizarding community's response to the destruction of Azkaban was nearly unchecked panic. Every Hit Wizard militia member that could still walk and hold a wand was called to duty and the Aurors and Obliviators were working double shifts. Not to apprehend the escaped Azkaban prisoners, mind you; this was all simply to maintain control of the hysterical population, and put on a show of force to prevent rioting.

Many prisoners were caught, of course; you can't hide very easily in communities that only have a few thousand people, because everyone knows each other. There were a lot of prisoners who weren't caught, however, and most of them had names that fit a specific pattern, like the Lestranges and Crouch Jr., for example.

The most pressing concern was the disappearance of the Dementors, who had been guarding the prisoners in Azkaban. They were virtually immortal, and could easily incapacitate wizards. A lot of Ministry manpower was tied up combing the countryside for any indication of their whereabouts.

The Ministry refused to send Hit Wizards after the escaped Death Eaters. "There is no point in sending members of our community to their deaths," Director of Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was quoted as saying to the press. "Better to stand guard and prevent these criminals from entering established locations than to lose people to hit-and-run warfare."

Because that tactic worked last time, too, didn't it?

Amelia Bones wasn't aware that Dumbledore had been active on Christmas Eve, though; she wasn't aware of Sirius and Peter, or of Voldemort's theft of Slytherin's basilisk. The only thing she and the other Aurors were aware of was that several prisoners stormed through Hogwarts and committed several murders. Nothing valuable was reported as missing upon inspection so the whole incident was labeled a revenge attack by escaped prisoners with a grudge.

Bones also wasn't aware that Dumbledore had been gathering old allies to his side, quietly resurrecting the fighting group that he had led against Voldemort more than a decade ago: The Order of the Phoenix. The name was a lighthearted jab at how Dumbledore pampered Fawkes, which made the phoenix the ultimate authority. That kind of humor helped keep the Order members in good spirits the first time around, and it would probably help again.

Pansy and I were moved to Sirius' old house, #12 Grimmauld Place, early Christmas day. Dumbledore had covered it with the Fidelius Charm using himself as Secret Keeper and he, Bill, and Marius had warded it to be as secure as possible. We were all now patiently waiting for January 14th, when the house was officially impregnable to Voldemort or any of his allies, and the rest of the Order could move in and set up. In order to stay at Grimmauld through January, Fawkes would transport Pansy and I from our dorm rooms directly to the house, so that no one would be able to say that we weren't at Hogwarts at the time.

Pansy was very possessive of me from Christmas onward. The only people that she would allow near me without contest were the Weasleys, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore, and her parents; everyone else was headed off or subject to her venomous sarcastic barbs. Even Roger and Cho had to navigate around Pansy, which I thought was hilarious.

I had to work Pansy around Luna, though; Pansy could send the otherwise unflappable Luna Lovegood away in tears in two seconds flat. It took me several days to convince Pansy to let Luna stay around me, and convince Luna that Pansy wasn't a mutant Lethifold that caused people's tear glands to swell.

Many people answered Dumbledore's call: Arthur and Molly Weasley were the first, along with their older children Bill and Charlie. McGonagall, Hagrid, Flitwick, and Snape were already on-hand. Marius and Livia Parkinson had been drawn in over Christmas, and pledged their support. Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, an Auror of great fame, had already been heading to Hogwarts as soon as his house had stopped shaking. Remus Lupin, another old friend of my father's, had been drawn out of seclusion by Sirius to support us. By New Year's Eve, Arthur and Molly had made contact with several other people as well, but the people I've mentioned are the ones I had the most contact with at the time.

Dumbledore and the professors were hamstrung by the loss of their peers, and spent the beginning of January frantically trying to hire interim professors to fill the now-vacant posts. While there was no lack of applications to teach at such a prestigious school, the hiring process took more than just a single interview.

The rest of the Order was quickly settled into their old roles in the war, with new members filling in gaps. Dumbledore had given the Order two major objectives: Prevent the Death Eaters from infiltrating the Ministry, and locate and neutralize known Death Eaters at large.

Being young and naive, I was expecting some full-scale war to break out and people to start dying left and right. Sirius was the first person to explain to me that it would be a dark day in Hell for both the Order and the Death Eaters if the Ministry was involved.

"The 'War' that we old folks keep referring to was a secret war -- a shadow war," he said to me just before New Year's. "Voldemort used his Death Eaters to get control of positions of power in the Ministry either by occupying those positions or controlling the witch or wizard who was.

"We did largely the same thing: we made allies with people in power, or maneuvered to place our own people in those positions. It's not a big mystery why half of the Hogwarts faculty belongs to the Order; Dumbledore didn't want Hogwarts compromised. The younger, newer professors were hired after Voldemort's destruction."

"Why were they the only ones targeted?" I asked, thinking for sure that Voldemort would have targeted known Order members.

"Because they were in the way and they were alone," Sirius replied. "From what you've told me you found Hagrid, Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick together, right? Well, that wasn't a fluke. The moment they felt that explosion I'll bet they collected together immediately so that they could deal with any threat together.

"The newer professors had never had that kind of battle experience or training; really, it shouldn't have mattered. After all, Hogwarts is a school not a fortress. But it did matter this time, unfortunately."

"So, the Death Eaters are trying to get control of the Ministry?" I asked, moving back to the main subject.

"Not just that," Sirius said, before rubbing his face. "Let's back up a bit.

"A 'Death Eater' is a member of a cult that was formed by pureblood wizards a long time ago. The cult's only purpose is to promote the ideal that pure-blooded wizards are superior to those of mixed blood, and that wizards in general are far superior to muggles and other creatures.

"Death Eaters would often hold revels where they would torment a handful of muggles or creatures. Any pureblood was invited to attend, and the dress code --black heavy robes with your face covered-- kept the participants from knowing who they were associating with.

"For the longest time, it was considered 'acceptable behavior' for a pureblooded wizard to join in a revel. The Ministry would prevent the revels it was aware of, but since no Death Eater could ever identify his peers, the only thing the Ministry could do is arrest and charge individual Death Eaters with crimes against muggles, and even then only if they could catch any Death Eaters before they fled."

"And once they got away, the only way to catch them would be to arrest every pureblood in Britain," I said, beginning to catch on. "What a brilliant way to organize a group."

"It was," Sirius agreed, nodding. "It gave the Aurors and Obliviators the occasional workout, but since it rarely resulted in injury to wizards, the whole situation wasn't taken very seriously, and Death Eaters were looked at more like rebellious teenagers who hadn't settled down than rapists and murderers-- tells you how entrenched the pro-wizard sentiment was, in any case.

"Even the Death Eaters that were caught faced nothing more than fines for using magic against Muggles, and public exposure as a Death Eater, which was about as embarrassing as someone taking photos of you being a drunken idiot at a party. People would shake their heads at you and admonish you for being reckless, but you wouldn't lose your job or anything."

"So where does Voldemort fit into this?" I asked. "It's probably bad to say this, but the Death Eaters sound pretty tame so far."

"Up to this point, there hadn't been any major use of Unforgivables," Sirius said. "Voldemort changed that; he promoted the use of Dark Arts against muggles, claiming that these arts were only punishable when used against people, which the muggles were not. He became a celebrity within Death Eater society, like a muggle rock star. No one knew who he was, but he had a powerful voice, and he quickly gained control of any revel he attended.

"Eventually, he proclaimed himself Lord Voldemort, which was an assumed name that the other Death Eaters could use to refer to him. Now the faceless dark arts user had a name --sort of-- and the revels he was at were always the best. Muggles were put under the Imperius and forced to fight each other like gladiators, or would willingly perform sexual acts. Voldemort used his magic to bring the darkest fantasies of the Death Eaters around him to life, and just like a proper showman he would always know just what his audience was craving."

"I'll bet it wasn't hard to move from forcing muggles to act to killing and torturing," I said, remembering Voldemort's impassioned attempt to get me to join him. It was easy to listen to him; easy to go along with what he said.

"Within a couple of years, he was the uncontested leader of the Death Eaters," Sirius said. "No Death Eater revel was planned by anyone else from that point on; they all waited on Voldemort. There were rumors of an 'Inner Circle' in the Death Eaters who were Voldemort's trusted allies and helped organize the revels. Of course, they also did a lot more for him, as we know. There wasn't any way to tell who might have been in that Inner Circle or not, though, so it remained a strong rumor at best."

"That's... amazing," I said. "So they were a secret group inside a secret group; how on earth did you fight that?"

"Well, Voldemort's revels were hard for the Aurors to track, and they began to suspect that Voldemort had inside help from the Ministry. That was the first sign that something big was happening, but it was a subtle one. The Death Eater revels were such a routine event for Aurors to crash that they were often relieved that they couldn't find them. It also prevented the awkward situation of having to arrest someone that you knew personally and charging them with minor crimes, which was a common event.

"Mad-Eye changed all that when he was involved in stopping a revel one night. He was too high-ranked to do it usually, you see, but he was pressed into it by a friend of his and went along to fill in for someone's partner.
"Usually Death Eaters scatter when Aurors show up but this time Voldemort told them to stand their ground and resist attempts from the Ministry to 'prevent their expressions of natural superiority.' Then he fought Mad-Eye and the other Aurors, and beat them back all by himself.

"What's more is that Voldemort didn't use Dark Arts against Moody; he beat the Aurors fair and square, and sent them running. Such a complete victory over the famous Mad-Eye increased Voldemort's status in the eyes of the Death Eaters immensely; after all, who else could boast that they could single-handedly defeat a squad of Aurors with Mad-Eye in the lead?"

"But he didn't hurt them..." I said, thinking. "So he was following what he was telling the Death Eaters, that you don't use Dark Arts against other wizards."

"That's right," Sirius continued, "He kept beating back the Aurors from that point on. He taught the Death Eaters how to use Dark Arts against muggles, and how to duel properly against Aurors. This change, along with the increased use of the Unforgivables, caused the Aurors to treat the Death Eaters a lot more seriously.

"This all began to escalate as other Death Eaters fought Aurors alongside Voldemort, and a lot of them began using Unforgivables on muggles. Maybe it was only the Inner Circle to begin with, but soon Aurors were being overwhelmed at Death Eater revels. About this time, Voldemort changed his tune a bit, talking about his vision of a pure society, free of muggleborn and dominant over muggles and magical creatures, and how the Ministry was leading wizards into mediocrity at best and slavery at worst."

"I'll bet that the Death Eaters ate that up," I said.

"They did, and the final nail was driven by Barty Crouch Sr., who was the Director of Law Enforcement at the time. In response to the Death Eaters resisting arrest so vehemently, and the blatant demonstration of Unforgivables by so many wizards, Crouch authorized all Aurors to use the Unforgivables when working on apprehending Death Eaters."

"Wait, that doesn't sound right," I said, cutting across Sirius. "Why would the Aurors jump straight to the Killing Curse when dealing with Death Eaters?"

"Not the Killing Curse, Harry" Sirius said with a laugh. "The Aurors didn't turn homicidal overnight. The authorization allowed the Aurors to use the Imperius to gain information, and the Cruciatus in combat to more easily incapacitate Death Eaters. It sounded good on paper, but it went over horribly when the public got word.

"'Crouch authorizes Unforgivables against Purebloods!' the front page of the Prophet said the next day. There were other articles praising Crouch; a lot of the pureblood community now openly supported the Death Eaters, while others openly supported the Ministry."

"Crouch started the war," I said, astonished.

"No, Voldemort started the war," Sirius said, waving his finger at me. "He started it by converting the Death Eaters to his service, and carefully forcing the Ministry to make the first offensive move. Then, while there were public skirmishes to draw the Aurors away, Voldemort's Inner Circle worked on infiltrating the Ministry. Dumbledore saw though this, and started making Ministry inroads of his own.

"One of the biggest reasons that Voldemort was as successful as he was, besides the receptive pureblood community, was that the Ministry didn't have the manpower to both fight the Death Eaters openly and maintain internal security. The purpose of the Order was to help bolster that inner security, and to assist in preventing the Death Eaters from causing widespread damage.

"To the public, the war was initially about the Death Eaters and the rights of muggles, and the sides were pretty even. Only later, when Voldemort and the Death Eaters began to assassinate muggles and mark the killings with the Dark Mark was it apparent how depraved the Death Eaters had become. Crouch became a hero for seeing the problem ahead of time, because if the Aurors didn't need the Unforgivables at first, it certainly saved lives later.

"Voldemort was unbeatable, though, and he slowly turned the Death Eaters against the wizarding community as well as the muggles. He began to target the Aurors that attacked him, destroying their families and homes, but soon any one who vocally opposed him was at risk. He was faceless and no one knew his real name so he was even more frightening. He could have been anyone under that mask, and people grew to fear him. By 1970, there was a rumor that anyone who openly called the name 'Voldemort' would die less than 24 hours later, and enough people had been murdered by Death Eaters to make people believe it. That was the year people started to use the terms 'You Know Who' or 'He Who Must Not Be Named' in fear for their lives."

"Wow... damn." I could greatly appreciate the reluctance to say his name. I could also understand his followers calling him the Dark Lord; if his claim on Britain was so powerful that people didn't feel they could say his name freely, he certainly held a lord's power.

"Your parents, Remus, and I started school in 1971," Sirius continued, carefully omitting Peter from his list of people. "We grew up during the years that Voldemort was at his strongest, and helped Dumbledore oppose him as soon as we were out of school.

"It was a hard run with the Death Eaters rampaging, and Voldemort and his Inner Circle 'pruning the hedges,' so to speak. The Ministry was slowly being taken over one position or Imperius at a time, and their war-time laws were highly restrictive to most people, with just enough loopholes for old pureblood families to give Death Eaters breathing room.

"Those muggleborn who knew about Dumbledore's resistance flocked to his side, having no one else to turn to. The pure that didn't support Voldemort either sided with Dumbledore or hid behind the wards of their homes, waiting for the Ministry's inevitable collapse."

"...and then Voldemort ran into me and my parents." I said.

Sirius nodded and ruffled my hair to avoid speaking right away. "It changed everything," he eventually said. "I'd rather have James and Lily back, but you cut the head right off the monster. With Voldemort gone, the Death Eaters folded. There were no organized revels, and the Aurors were now very open to the suggestions of Dumbledore and the Order, so a great deal of the Ministry was cleaned up. You still see some of those laws in effect -purebloods like them-but they're pretty reasonable now."

I only nodded at Sirius. It struck me what a small amount of time had passed between 1981 and 1993; 12 years wasn't a long time as far as any society was concerned, and Voldemort had held real power for two decades beforehand. Dumbledore had told me that it wasn't until about 1989 that the Death Eaters had been wrapped up as a whole, only two years before I started Hogwarts.

Unlike Hermione and Ron, I didn't wonder at why Dumbledore was withholding Voldemort's name from the press; it would either be dismissed as fancy, or it would incite so much panic that it would undo any good that might come of it.

"It is especially important that you never mention anything of it," Dumbledore told me once our private lessons resumed. "You would scuttle any political momentum that you have gained so far. It would be far better for us all if you continued to gain momentum while we work to expose Voldemort once again. Once he is revealed to have returned, you can then lobby vocally to have him removed. Since you are living proof that he can be defeated, the community will rally to you. We must make Voldemort work as hard as possible to gain any further foothold in the Ministry."

Hogwarts slowly recovered from its losses, with new professors getting used to their job, and the old Professors keeping students in line. I offered to be Filch's unofficial replacement for the rest of the year, which pleased Dumbledore immensely -- another few political points for him and me, I guess.

Hermione also helped me take care of the castle. A lot of what needed to be done was in Hermione's power range to do, and maintaining the castle was a real exercise in Charms and Transfiguration. When we didn't have work to do, I passed on other lessons from Dumbledore. Mrs. Norris followed us around like she had with Filch, and she took a great liking to Hermione. Hedwig would often find me and perch herself on my left shoulder, so we looked quite the pair.

All of the Professors gave us a lot of leeway, treating us like staff more than students. Even Snape was civil, going so far as to say "If only your father had been as considerate." It wasn't much, but it gave me some idea as to why Snape didn't like me. Something to ask Sirius about later, I thought.

Sirius often joined us in his dog form, for which he was nicknamed "Padfoot;" he also answered to "Snuffles." He was often studying Mrs. Norris closely, sniffing her and rolling her around to the cat's delight. When I asked him what he was doing, he said "Dogs can't get everywhere, so I need a smaller form."

"But I thought you could only have one form as an animagus," Hermione said, picking up Mrs. Norris. The cat rolled in Hermione's arms and swatted playfully at her nose.

"That's what the textbooks say," Sirius said, nodding. "What they mean though is that if you put in a couple years of concentrated effort, you will master one form. If you want a second form..."

"...you have to do it all over again." Hermione finished. "And it wouldn't likely be any faster, unless you were just going for a different breed of dog."

Sirius shrugged. "Even then, really."

"So you've got a big animal form; I guess you're looking for a small animal and an animal that flies, then," I said, gesturing to Mrs. Norris and Hedwig.

"You got it, pup!" Sirius said, and then suddenly Padfoot was there, licking my face. Ugh, Godfather breath.

Remus Lupin was a very quiet individual. I hadn't yet met him face-to-face, but apparently he wanted to change that. I got a letter from him early January, asking if my friends and I had the time to stop over for a visit.

"There isn't a problem getting over there," Dumbledore said. "He has a working Floo connection, and his location both secure and remote. You and whoever you take will be fine."

"It'll be nice to be able to hear about my parents," I said. Lupin was said to be the most level-headed of my father's friends, and though his condition as a werewolf made him shy, he still wanted to get to know me.

Only Hermione and Pansy were free to join me: Hermione because she only had three classes to worry about, and Pansy because she couldn't have cared less about her classes if there was somewhere more interesting to go. Bidding Professor Dumbledore goodbye, we disappeared one by one through his fireplace, first Hermione, then me, then Pansy.

The Domino effect starts here.

-----

We emerged from the Floo into an unknown room. It was lavishly furnished and completely unlike anything I would have expected from a werewolf in seclusion. Pansy's eyes widened in recognition, and she grabbed my sleeve, tugging forcefully.

"Malfoy manor!" she said quietly, "We're at the Malfoy's!" Uh oh.

"Fuck! Where's Hermione?" She wasn't in the room, and a sudden surge of panic twisted in my innards.

"She'd go to a different room; one for 'uninvited guests.'" I didn't need any further explanation than that; my imagination came up with all sorts of ideas for what the Malfoys considered appropriate for muggleborn 'guests.'

Pansy led me to a door, seeming to know the way around already. The door was spelled shut, glowing with a locking charm that I didn't know the counter to. I cast a revealing charm and nearly laughed at the idea that this room could hold me; the Malfoys apparently didn't have the full measure of me yet; their loss.

"Come on, Pansy, there's always another way to remove the lock. Ready? 1... 2... 3!"

"REDUCTO!"

------

Elsewhere, taken from Hermione's memories:

Hermione rolled out of the fireplace and fell immediately to the right with a shriek. A powerful curse sailed through the space she had just occupied, reducing the side of the fireplace to dust and rubble. Once she righted herself, her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room. The walls were lined in small spikes, and there was no furniture. Only one door led from the room.

"Oh my God," she whispered to herself. "Oh, God, what is this?"

As Hermione approached the door, there was a loud click. Slowly the door opened, and Hermione tensed, readying her wand. She was no duelist, but Harry made sure she knew her shields and hexes well; she would not be caught helpless here. Behind the door, however, was only a small house elf, looking more frightened than she was.

"M-m-miss sh-should not be s-s-staying here," he said in a high, wobbly voice. "M-miss should b-be finding her friends."

"Harry's here?" she said, approaching the elf. "Where? Where can I find him?"

"T-this way, Miss." The elf led her along a long hallway to a new room. There were sounds of combat coming from that room, and the elf made a panicked turn away from it, heading in a new direction. Curiosity won out over fear for a moment, and Hermione carefully poked her head inside the room, looking for the source of the noise.

A tattered wizard was fighting for his life, bleeding profusely from several large gashes. His opponent, a black-haired woman, cackled as she systematically tore him apart. It was hardly a duel; it was a slaughter, so completely one-sided that Hermione knew the man was still alive only to prolong his agony.

Careful to make no noise, Hermione backed away from the doorway, and followed the elf down the hall again. As she walked, she reached inside her robe and slowly removed the only thing she trusted more than her wand: A small silver revolver; her father's old gun. He had used it once, when thieves broke into their home and threatened her mother. Since then, he had always kept it near. When she was seven, he showed her how to shoot the gun, despite her mother's protests. "You should know how to protect yourself," he had said. When he died, she took his gun from the house and kept it with her, the legacy of her father's protection.

Tears filled her eyes as she removed the safety with shaky hands. Harry was here, and would need help. God help the people in this house if they tried to stop her.

"You made it out of the room," a voice said. Hermione whipped her head around to see the angry, tear-stained face of Draco Malfoy. "You should've stayed there, Granger," he said angrily. "It would've made things so much easier."

------

"C'mon, Harry, it's this way." Pansy ran past the smoldering door into a room that looked like a miniature library. As Pansy went for the door on her left, a voice cried "STOP!"

Narcissa Malfoy ran into the room, her wand held high, and her hair wild and uncontrolled. She looked nothing like the elegant lady of an aristocratic family now; she looked terrified and insane.

"You can't leave here!" she screamed. "He'll kill us! I won't lose my family!"

"Where's Hermione?" I asked, setting my weight back on my right foot. "We're going to find her, and you're going to let us leave."

"Why are you concerned with the fate of one mudblood?" she asked incredulously. "You won't be harmed, and neither will Pansy. Please stop."

Rage. Anger. "Pansy, find Hermione," I said. "I'll keep our host busy."

Pansy looked at me for only a second before turning and bolting for the door. Narcissa sent a curse after her but I deflected it high and wide.

I fired a stunner to test the waters against my opponent. Narcissa countered with a reflective shield, sending the curse back towards me, and I rolled to the side as it sailed past. How dare this woman insult Hermione! How dare she draw a wand at me! I pulled an entire shelf of books down on top of her, but again her shield was in place, and I suddenly found myself with animated books flying at me and attacking me left and right. The little ones were annoying, but the big ones hurt.

"You're a fool to fight, Harry," she said to me. "You have no reason to. Why would you fight for a little girl that the Dark Lord will kill regardless? Put your wand up and end this." My vision began to narrow as I became angrier. My scar started to throb in time with my heartbeat, and I growled audibly. Books fell burning from the air as I cast multiple flame hexes. The last hex I aimed at Narcissa like a flamethrower, scorching a trail across the carpet and forcing her back from me.

"Stop this!" She screamed, frantically putting out the flames and conjuring ropes and chains that flew towards me. "These books are priceless! They're worth more than your miserable life, and a thousand times the life of that mudblood. You - will - stop!"

"DIE!" I shouted, slashing my wand downwards. The chains and ropes split apart as the curse tore across the room. Narcissa was too slow with her shield, and a huge gash ripped her open from her right shoulder down through her breast, abdomen and leg. She howled in pain as blood erupted from the wound, covering the carpet in front of her. Her robes fell apart, and I stared in awe at the brutality of what I had done.

"No..." I dropped to my knees as my stomach lurched painfully. "No, no, no, no..." I didn't do that. I couldn't have. I can't be like him. I can't…

But I did. I used that curse, and I don't even know how.

I've killed her.

Narcissa was losing color as blood pooled around her; the trail of blood down the side of her naked, perfect body riveted itself in my mind. The smell of blood saturated the room, and I found it almost as arousing as it was nauseating. Part of me wanted to touch her, and comfort her. Another part of me was morbidly fascinated by the contrast of crimson blood on pale white skin. I watched her breasts as she struggled for air, and it occurred to me that one of her lungs was probably torn open.

Unable to look away from the beauty and horror in front of me, I watched as Narcissa Malfoy took a last, gasping breath, shuddered, and was still.

----

"W-why are you doing this?!" Hermione cried, parrying Draco's Reductor curses with quick, precise wand movements. "Y-y-you're our friend!"

"I'm not your friend, Granger!" he snarled, continuing his barrage. "I was Harry's friend, and I was abandoned for you! I have no choice anyways! I'd have to choose between Harry and my family! Which should I choose, do you think?! Shut up and die, so I can get this over with! Reducto, Reducto, REDUCTO!"

Again and again Draco's curses impacted Hermione's shield, the excess power rolling off the sides in waves. Hermione's knees buckled under the strain, but she could repair her shield faster than Draco could damage it, and remained unharmed. Neither combatant noticed that another had entered the room.

"Damn you!" Draco cried, tears beginning to fall. "Damn you, Granger! Damn you to Hell! Crucio!" Hermione screamed as the curse struck her, passing through her shield unimpeded. She wailed for what felt like an eternity as the curse played up and down her nerves like a mad pianist. No rape could be this bad; no physical violation was as intense. She felt beyond naked in the agony, her very bones seemed exposed to the air for everyone to see.

And just as suddenly as it started, it was over. Hermione opened her eyes to see that she had fallen to the ground, and Draco was now the one on the defensive. Pansy had found her, and was battering Draco's shield with Stunners and Reductors, giving him no time to recover.

Draco had used the Cruciatus on her.

Pansy pushed with all her power on her curses, and Draco's shield began to fail. Pansy was stronger than Draco, and far better at dueling.

Draco had used the Cruciatus on her.

Slowly, Hermione stood. She spread her legs for stability, and with both hands cocked the hammer on her father's pistol.

With an exultant cry of "Expelliarmus!" the duel was over. Draco's wand sailed through the air to land at Pansy's feet.

Hermione raised her arms.

-----

The sound of gunfire brought me back to reality. Tearing my gaze away from Narcissa's body, I forced myself to my feet and chased after Pansy.

----

Draco stared in shock at the witch who had killed him. Blood began to pump from the three holes in his chest. Hermione's aim had been perfect, and more than one bullet had hit Draco in the heart. He opened his mouth to speak, but the only thing that left his mouth was blood.

"Traitor," Pansy hissed at his dying face before turning to Hermione. For the first time ever, Pansy put her arms around the shaking girl, holding her close.

-----

I ran into the room to see Draco lying on the ground, dead. Hermione stood above him, shivering, her revolver still smoking. Pansy had her arms around Hermione, whispering "Its okay" over and over.

"What happened?" I asked, coming up to the girls. Hermione just shook her head, and Pansy looked at me.

"He--"

"NO! MY SON! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SON?!" An enraged Lucius Malfoy burst into the room, and with a flick of his wand sent a lance of magical force towards Hermione. Pansy stepped into the path, her shield breaking as it intercepted the curse.

"NO!" I shouted, and leapt at the elder Malfoy. I deflected his attacks high and to my right, well away from he girls, but unlike his wife, Lucius was an experienced duelist, and I couldn't get enough of an opening to move off of the defensive.

Hermione stepped past Pansy and fired on Malfoy, who turned to deflect the bullet with a shield. I saw my chance, and lashed out with my strongest Reductor. Malfoy gasped and dropped to his knees as his left shoulder and ribs were shattered, and Pansy quickly disarmed him. Hermione fired her last two shots into Malfoy's chest, ending the struggle.

The hairs on my neck stood up as I felt a powerful surge of magic behind me. I twisted just in time to deflect a powerful crescent curse aimed at me and returned the curse before I even knew what I was doing. "Impossible!" a woman shouted. "I am the Dark Lord's apprentice! He instructed me alone, how could-- of course. Harry Potter." The woman emerged from the shadows of the adjoining room, covered in the blood of her former opponent: Bellatrix Lestrange.

She was the stereotypical evil witch: long straight black hair cascading down to her waist, and the steel grey eyes of the Black family. A small tinge of rainbow light played across those irises in rhythm with her magic. She wore the dark flowing robes of a Death Eater, but it was easy to imagine her in elegant evening robes at a high-class party. Covered as she was in blood, she was as stunning as she was frightening.

"Let's see, then, if you are everything He thinks you to be..." With movements faster than I could follow Bellatrix launched into a flurry of curses. Guided by foreign instincts that were fueled by desperation I echoed her movements and our crescents deflected off of each other with the terrible wail of steel on steel. Pansy and Hermione joined in with Reductor curses, and for just an instant the four of us danced in perfect synchronization.

But Bellatrix was a graceful dancer, melding power, speed and skill into a form of terrible beauty while we fought only with the clumsy potential of youth. We had started in-step; in two heartbeats Hermione had fallen with her legs removed halfway up the thighs, and I had numerous fine cuts along my legs and arms; by five heartbeats, Pansy had lost both arms at the shoulders, and I had large gashes across my limbs, and cuts across my chest and face; at seven heartbeats I screamed in pain, falling to the ground defeated as my right arm and shoulder were torn from me; we had not injured her even once.

Bellatrix kneeled over me while I was bleeding, making soft cooing noises like a mother might do for her child. Gently she caressed my face, kissing my forehead while her wand worked to slow my bleeding. I could barely think at all, blinded by pain, but I remember feverishly wishing for a mother that would comfort me like she was doing.

With a thunderous roar, the wall of the room was torn away. Floating above the hole that had been an entire wing of the manor was Dumbledore, his eyes once again glowing with power. A surge of excitement cut through the agony, and I focused all my remaining power into staying awake.

Bellatrix went for him immediately; she moved so fast that she was mere feet from his location before they crossed spells. So intense was the duel that it was impossible to make out more than a blur of lights. In less than two seconds the manor shook with the power of Dumbledore's signature blasting curse and Bellatrix went flying back through the room and into the next, crashing through the dividing wall.

In an instant Dumbledore was next to us. With a few wand flicks Pansy was healed, and Hermione was able to stand. A few seconds more and my arm was reattached.

We made no attempt to stop Bellatrix from escaping the Manor; Dumbledore took the three of us to Hogwarts as fast as he could create the Portkey. The Battle of Malfoy Manor had ended; the Malfoys had lost.

-----

I woke in the Hospital Wing to a hushed conversation between Dumbledore and Lockheart. Dumbledore and Lockheart walked quickly over to me.

"Wha... What's--?" All sleepiness was shaken from my head as I saw Lockheart bring his wand to bear against me. Without even thinking my feet had hit the ground and I flung the bed as hard as I could, sending it crashing into the surprised professor. As Lockheart pushed the bed off of him and got to his feet, I had located my wand and started towards him.

"Enough!" shouted Dumbledore, freezing the both of us by the power of his voice alone. "Since I obviously haven't mentioned it, Gilderoy, leave Harry and his friends out of your sweep. They're fine."

"I can't leave people unaccounted for, Albus," he replied without any of the usual floweriness to his voice. "It could compromise us, and we don't need that right now."

"Harry is an accomplished Occlumens," Dumbledore said unperturbed. "You would only meet with frustration. Move on." Grumbling, Lockheart gave me a half-hearted salute with his wand and turned to leave. I flicked my wand towards the bed, righting it and placing it back in position.

"What was that about?" I asked once Lockheart had left the room.

"I'm sure you recall Lockheart bragging about his 'honorary membership in the Dark Force Defense League," Dumbledore said as he secured the room against eavesdroppers.

"Yeah," I said, remembering for the first time that I had lost my left arm to Bellatrix yesterday. "I didn't really pay him any attention, though. He seems like a fake, and he damn well acts like one." My arm was apparently healed, and I moved it around, testing its strength. Satisfied with my overall condition, I rummaged around for my robes.

"I will agree partially with you," Dumbledore said as he conjured a chair to sit in. "The books Gilderoy publishes are a front to draw attention to himself, and away from other members of the Defense League."

I stopped for a second and as the implications of what Dumbledore had said penetrated my mind. "So Lockheart is a fraud, but he's a fraud… on purpose?"

"That's right; he's currently here at my request to help with the defense of Hogwarts." Dumbledore chuckled at the look of distaste on my face. "You'll likely never work with him, Harry. Remember: Allies do not have to be friends."

I nodded while I dressed, and walked out of the Hospital wing looking for Hermione and Pansy. They hadn't been there when I woke up, and since Dumbledore hadn't come in bearing any bad news, that meant the girls were okay. Hermione was the first person I found; she was curled into a chair in the Ravenclaw common room, reading the fifth year DADA book from last year's set.

She didn't speak when I came in; she simply moved over on the chair to give me room. I settled in beside her, and she leaned back into me. She had killed two people today, and I had killed one with the curse that may have murdered my parents. No amount of conversation would ease the pain that we both felt, so we held each other silently, offering what support we could to each other.

-----

It was a matter of harsh debate between Moody and Dumbledore why Voldemort had essentially sacrificed the Malfoy family for a shot at me and Hermione. Had it been just a test to see how quickly Dumbledore could react to my disappearance? If so, it was a costly test, as it created enough distrust in the public Floo system that Order members swore off using it ever again. No one could decide on the logic behind such a bold move on Voldemort's part, especially since it had left the door open for Dumbledore to take the Malfoys for all they were worth.

But Voldemort is the smartest man I know, and I was quickly learning that even Dumbledore had problems staying a step ahead.

The very next day was January 14th, and the entire Weasley family was at the Burrow packing their belongings to head to Grimmauld. I was there as a precaution, as well as to spend some time with Hermione outside of the castle. Not twenty minutes had passed before the scream of Mrs. Weasley brought us pounding down the steps. She and Mr. Weasley sat against the kitchen wall, holding onto Percy. Percy was pale, and a pool of blood was quickly forming underneath him. Ginny stood across the kitchen from them, three wands in her left hand and her own twirling idly in her right.

"Harry," she said brightly, "I'm so glad to see you. I haven't had the chance to talk to you for months!" Ginny's eyes flashed a bright red, and a reckless grin formed on her face.

Oh, shit. "Voldemort," I whispered, stepping forward to cover Hermione. My scar had begun to ache again, and the unnatural anger I always felt near Voldemort was beginning to stir.

"I'm so glad that you had a chance to meet Bella," he said, not moving except to shift his weight onto his back leg. "She was very complimentary of your dueling skills. Perhaps with my abilities limited as they are in this body, we might actually be equals. Shall we duel again, Harry? Or would it be asking too much for you to attack your friend?"

I scowled, not wanting to answer. What could I say, anyways? Of course I'll duel you, Voldemort. Then, after Ginny's body is paste on the walls, I get to sit Mrs. Weasley down and explain that she doesn't have a daughter anymore. Sounds like so much fun.

Voldemort saw my indecision, and Ginny's grin got wider. "Its okay, Harry, I already planned on providing you with suitable motivation. Ginevra Weasley is quite potent for a young girl, and is so very jealous of her newly adopted sister. Let's visit one of her fantasies, shall we? In fact, I think your girlfriend has been here before!" Ginny's wand barely twitched, and Hermione shot past me as if tied to a horse. She came to a stop over the kitchen table, and hovered there. At some point her wand had found its way to Ginny's left hand along with the others. "Do you know what happens next, Harry?"

"Don't," I said, my voice shaking with anger. "Don't do it. Don't you fucking do it, I'll kill you where you stand, you son of a bitch!"

"Harry!" I heard the shouts of various Weasleys behind me, and I ignored them. My rage was in control and the only person I currently gave a damn about was floating over the table. Hermione looked at me with wide eyes, terrified. She didn't say anything; she just looked at me, waiting for the inevitable.

"Does this hurt, Harry?" Voldemort asked in Ginny's voice. "Does it pain you to know that no matter how well-protected you are others you care about will suffer? Does it frustrate you to know that a small, insignificant miscalculation on your part opened the door for all of this to happen?" Ginny suddenly flourished her wand, and I heard a crunching noise behind me as the hallway walls pressed in on its occupants. "Ah, ah, ah," she taunted, "I can't allow interference from the other members of the family. You might actually save poor Percy from bleeding to death, and I can't have that.

"That's what we're waiting for, Harry; while you and I are talking, Molly gets to hold her son while he dies. Isn't that fun, Molly? Just like your brothers, isn't it?" I heard the wail from behind me, and sparks began to trail from my wand tip as my magic surged with my anger. "Oh, are you ready to play, then, Harry? Here I thought you'd need a lot more pushing to get into the mood. I--" He fired a crescent curse to my side, and I deflected it by reflex. The scream from behind me told me that I hadn't deflected it enough, though. Glancing back, I saw Ron with his right arm split down the middle, both parts connected loosely at the shoulder. He had managed to free himself from the crush of the walls, but was now quickly becoming as pale as Percy. Charlie had also gotten free from the other side, and was running back up the stairs, likely going for a window.

Voldemort noticed too, but Fred and George produced shields to block the curses aimed at Charlie's back. "Well, it seems as though we should get to our duel before the cavalry comes." Ginny turned her wand back to Hermione, and I raised my wand to attack.

"Ready Harry?"

"DON'T--"

"Crucio!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The Cruciatus had barely made contact with Hermione when my curse hit Ginny. Her body rocked back from the impact, and the demonic red glow faded from her eyes. Time seemed to stop as I watched her arc forward and fall to the ground. My stomach began to churn at what I had done, but before anyone could act Ginny's foot shot forward and she caught herself; her brown eyes flared red again, and she looked up.

"That's… more than I could have ever expected, Harry," she said in a raspy voice. "But I think you care a little too much for this girl to be using that curse. Try something more along these lines!" In less time than I could blink I had deflected two crescent curses, and stopped a third with one of my own. Just as Bellatrix and I had danced, I now danced with Voldemort in Ginny's body. I didn't even qualify as a novice compared to his skill, but Voldemort could just barely push little Ginny's body to match my speed, and I had a large advantage in spell power. With a feral growl I pressed forward with my curses, gaining confidence that for this one, unique duel, we were evenly matched. My guilt and doubt was gone, erased by Voldemort's renewed attack. All I saw now was Voldemort; all I thought of was victory.

Neither of us spoke, and the only sound was the horrible screeching noise whenever our curses connected. We fought as though we were dueling with swords: Slash and parry; thrust and deflect. The kitchen came apart around us as deflected curses tore through walls and gouged support beams. I fought directly in front of Hermione to prevent curses from hitting her, and I hoped that Fred and George would be able to shield their family. Ten seconds had passed, and we were sweaty but still at a stalemate. Twenty seconds and we were both covered in small nicks from near misses. Thirty seconds and the sound of our labored breathing nearly drowned out the curses we were casting. At forty seconds, Ginny's curses began to weaken as her magic gave out. Sensing victory I pressed with everything I had, producing the hateful curse as fast as could. As Bellatrix had done to me, I started to score serious hits across Ginny's arms and legs as Voldemort fumbled the deflections. The wounds became larger and larger, until Ginny screamed in pain as her right arm was torn away by the curse, taking her wand with it. With a final cry of "STUPEFY!" Ginny's body fell to the ground, and the horrific battle came to an end.

Before I could move to stop Ginny's bleeding, scar exploded in pain and I fell to the ground holding my head. <Do YoU ThINk ThiS iS OvER, CHilD?> a demonic voice tore through my head. <I WiLL MakE yoU SuFfER FoR EVerY MoMEnt YoU DeFY Me. DOeS ThIs HuRT YoU, HArRy? Do I CAusE yOu pAin liKE yOU cAn CAuSE Me? REvEL in It, HArRY!! SoON, PaIn IS aLL ThAT YoU WiIL KNoW!!>

There was a deep rumble that shook the ground, and then the side of the kitchen was ripped away by the head of a snake too long and large to see, and easily as thick as a bus.

"Don't look at its eyes!" Hermione screamed behind me, but it was too late; the basilisk and I had already locked gazes.

I heard horrible choking sounds from the stairs, and swallowed reflexively. Was that how I would die? My throat felt tight as I gazed at the great serpent, and my breathing became heavy and strained. I could still breathe, though, and I backed up to the table, cancelling the spell levitating Hermione and helping her down. Throughout all of my movements, I couldn't break eye contact with the basilisk. My sight slowly tinged red as we stared at each other, and my glasses heated up, burning my hair and skin. I nearly pulled them off in pain, when the faint crimson outline of my parents faded into view.

"Harry…?" Hermione called hesitantly. Finally tearing my gaze from the basilisk, I glanced back to see her covering her eyes.

"I'm okay," I said. "The Stone is protecting me."

The basilisk lunged forward at me, and suddenly a sturdy stone wall appeared, curving to enclose the kitchen and hiding the basilisk from sight. The wall shook with the impact of the great snake, but it held. Arthur Weasley lowered his newly reclaimed wand and knelt near Ginny, healing her as best he could.

"H-Harry, you take Hermione to the Floo and get out!" His voice was nearly lost in the thunder of the basilisk slamming against the wall.

"But--"

"NO! I can hold him! LEAVE NOW!"

Percy was abandoned face down in his own blood as Molly rushed over to help mend Ginny. Ron was sprawled out on the floor, his uninjured arm grasping at his throat. His face was locked in a mask of horror, and his lips were tinged blue. He was still bleeding, but the blood was the least of his concern. I knew now what the source of those choking noises was; Ron had looked at the basilisk's eyes, and nothing I could do would save him.

"Stupefy." A jet of red light stilled Ron's movements, and Hermione lowered her wand with tears in her eyes. "Goodbye, Ron." Without looking at me, she ran to the fireplace, threw in the Floo powder and shouted "Grimmauld Place!"

Fred and George ran to the fireplace and vanished in green flames as Arthur and Molly finished healing Ginny. Slowly, her eyes opened, and she looked up at her parents. "Mum." Molly smiled and embraced her daughter tightly, and Ginny looked over her shoulder to me, crimson eyes flashing in amusement.

No. God, no…

With an explosion of blood, Molly Weasley fell away from her daughter, nearly cleaved in two. Ginny stood and faced me covered in gore and entrails, her mother's wand held loosely in her hand. "And so it ends, Harry," she said, her voice still raw and grating. "You have fought well, but you will die here tonight." Ginny advanced towards me, and Arthur trembled with anguish, unable to bring his wand to bear against his daughter.

I prayed that Charlie had gotten out, and gotten to Dumbledore. I prayed that any moment there would be a fiery flash, and we would be saved. But the stone wall Arthur had conjured was beginning to crumble under the onslaught of the basilisk, and Ginny had once again taken up her dueling stance. As Arthur dropped to his knees defeated, I raised my own wand, whispering "I'm sorry."

Without warning Ginny whipped around, and launched a crescent curse at Arthur. Defenseless and on his knees, tears falling down his face, Arthur could only stare at the approach of his death. I cast a shield as fast as I could with every ounce of power I had left. The shield formed just fast enough to catch the curse, and it discharged harmlessly around the eldest Weasley.

The bluff was all that Voldemort had left. Exhausted from our previous battle, Ginny's magic finally failed completely, and she collapsed on the spot. I fired a stunner at her to ensure she stayed out before collapsing to my knees beside her. I don't have to kill her, I thought with giddy relief. I don't have to kill her. It's over.

"T-thank you, Harry," Arthur said, slowly getting to his feet. "Let's go quickly; this wall won't hold for much longer." As he spoke, the last parts of the wall fell away, and the basilisk lowered its massive head into the room.

"Go with Ginny, Mr. Weasley! It can't kill me!"

"Harry--"

"GO! I know what I'm doing!" God, what a lie; I had a game plan, though. As Arthur disappeared in flames, I locked gazes with the basilisk again. It hissed and bared its fangs, each of which was nearly as long as I was tall. I mustered what courage and power I had, and stood tall.

<< Catch me if you can, you fat scaly bitch! >> I taunted in Parseltongue. The basilisk recoiled in shock as I spoke, and I took that moment to fire a Reductor at the already damaged wall beside me, opening a back exit to the yard. I rushed out the hole, and waited for the sound of movement before running back in.

Voldemort had taken the bait, and had pulled out of the house to circle around. I had a few seconds to get to the top floor of the Burrow. Forcing my magic into my body, I took the stairs at top speed. As I reached Ron's room, I felt the property shudder as Voldemort tore back into the house, looking for me. I threw open the window and fired a Reductor at the broom shed that Ron's window overlooked. The shed came apart easily, exposing the brooms.

"Accio!" I called, too tired to keep casting silently. I could feel the basilisk moving up the stairs, but the broom was already rocketing toward the window. I jumped out the window just as Voldemort broke through the doorway, grabbing the broom in midair.

I pulled into a Sloth Grip Roll and fell into a dive, hearing the loud snap of the basilisk's mouth closing above me. I forced the broom out of the dive, and flew parallel to the ground, gaining speed as I went. Once I was clear of the last of the giant snake's coils I shot upwards as fast as I could. With a terrible crash the basilisk broke free of the house, and coiled to spring at me, but I was more than two hundred feet in the air and rising fast. I heard its hiss of anger as I shot off into the night, heading roughly for London.

I landed just on the outskirts of the city, and summoned the Knight Bus. In exchange for a few sickles and a very bumpy ride, I was quickly and safely deposited on the doorstep of #12 Grimmauld Place, far out of Voldemort's grasp.

-----

Pansy, Hermione and I were all excused from Hogwarts for the next few days as the Weasleys made funeral preparations for Ron, Percy and Molly. Bill came back from Egypt to be with his family, and helped move the rest of the Weasleys' belongings to Grimmauld. I had expected the entire family to hate me for trying to use the Killing Curse on Ginny, but it was the Weasleys who offered me comfort after the ordeal. Ginny herself ran up and hugged me when she first saw me the next morning, and refused to let me go for the rest of the day. She hadn't spoken since she had been possessed, but she attached herself to me or Bill whenever she could.

Hermione was very conflicted over the events of the last two days. She had killed and been tortured, and she had lost three members of her new family, including her adopted mother. It made it even worse that the Weasleys had been taunted and tortured by Voldemort beforehand. Like me, she hid her turmoil behind her Occlumency, pushing it down until the pain was manageable. It made us seem alien and emotionless to the rest of the house's occupants when we did that, so we kept mostly to ourselves outside of meal times.

"It was frustrating to be so powerless," she said while we sat in one of the manor's reading rooms. "I understand exactly why you don't like anyone pointing wands at you now, Harry. I could barely believe that Draco had used that curse.

"I thought he would give up. I thought he was good."

"No, Hermione, he wasn't good." I took her hand in both of mine, rubbing the top with my thumbs. "Both Dumbledore and I knew that they would turn on us; it was only a matter of time."

"I killed him," she said miserably. "I killed him, and then I killed his father."

"I'm proud of you," I said, causing her to look up at me. "I want you to know that I'm happy you had that gun, and I'm happy that we don't ever have to deal with the Malfoys again."

"What about you, Harry?" she asked me quietly. "Are you okay with what you've done?"

"No," I answered thickly, a tangle of suppressed emotions rising up inside me. "I'm fucked up. I can use Voldemort's curse, and I don't know how. I don't know the wand movements, I don't know the incantation. But when I'm in a fight, or I'm angry, it's there.

"I don't like being like him. I don't like that it feels good to use that kind of power. You didn't see me when I killed Mrs. Malfoy; it was… awful."

"But you fought for me," Hermione said. "I never thought that anyone but my Dad would fight for me ever again. When my parents died, I though that I'd never really be safe again. But I'm safe with you; Voldemort was right in front of me, and I felt safe with you."

A fierce pride swelled up inside me, pushing a lot of the guilt aside. It meant a great deal to me to hear Hermione tell me that; it made the suffering worthwhile.

I squeezed her hands before letting go to stand up. "I'm going to talk to Dumbledore about learning or developing a signature spell. I don't know if I can yet, but if I can help it, I'm never using that curse again."

"I need to visit your vault," she said after a moment. "I only kept one extra set of bullets with me for the gun, and I don't like the idea of having only six shots left."

"Can I borrow that gun, Hermione?" I asked, struck by an idea. She hesitantly produced the small revolver, and after checking that the safety was still on, handed it to me.

"Please be careful with it," she said. "It's the most important thing that my father left me."

"Since it saved our lives from Lucius Malfoy, I agree with you," I said. "You know, in a way your father left protection for you just like my mother left for me. Maybe it's not all mystical, but it did save your life, just like mine did."

Hermione's eyes widened, and then misted over. Wiping her tears away, she hugged me tightly, sniffling. When she pulled away, she looked happier, as though a weight had been taken off her shoulders. "Thank you, Harry," she said, kissing me gently. "Thank you for saying that."

-----

The funeral was held at the Burrow; a small service open only to close friends and family. Fred and George asked me to be a Pallbearer for Ron. On a rainy day in the field near where the Burrow once stood, I walked out to the gravesite, Ron's coffin floating behind me. Ginny walked beside me, and Fred and George came behind. At the front and back of Percy's coffin were Bill and Charlie. Arthur took Molly's coffin with Hermione coming behind.

The service was simple, and focused on the high points of each person's life. None of us were really into it, because the service was public. Everyone who wasn't a Weasley or an Order member only knew that the Burrow had collapsed, and that Molly, Percy and Ron had been inside when it happened. It was written off as the aftermath of damage sustained when Azkaban was destroyed. Since most of muggle London needed repairs after that incident, it was a very believable circumstance.

While Arthur made his way through a cookie-cutter speech about his wife, Fred, the others came over to me. Hermione took my hand, and Ginny attached herself to my other side.

"If you hadn't been alone," George said, "We'd have all gotten out."

Fred nodded. "If George or I had known anything at all about how to fight like you did, you wouldn't have had to do all that by yourself, and we might've saved Mum and Ron."

"So to prevent anything like this from happening again," George picked back up, "We want to learn how to fight." It wasn't hard to interpret their meaning.

"You mean have me teach you…?" I trailed off, more than a little daunted at the prospect of teaching more than just Hermione.

"You're a good teacher, Harry," Hermione said, giving my hand a squeeze. "I've learned a lot from you so far. I know that we've been hedging around dueling, but I don't want to feel helpless again."

Hermione looked away, chewing on her lip. "Before these last few days, I would have never wanted to hurt anyone, and dueling wasn't a useful thing for me to know. I know now that if I want to have any chance at a peaceful life as a witch, I'll need to know at least the basics."

"You saved my Dad from me," Ginny whispered, surprising all of us. "I killed Mum, but you saved Dad. I want to be able to save people. I never want Him to do that again." The moment Ginny started to speak, I had decided. I'd do just about anything to ease the pain of the tiny girl holding on to me.

"Right, then; basic dueling lessons and Occlumency practice all around. We'll talk more about it when we get back to Grimmauld."

"Thanks, Harry," Bill said as the girls hugged me and the twins clapped my shoulders. "Charlie and I are still going to be out of Britain, so we're glad you're around."

"It's not a problem," I said. "Now, I just need to talk to Dumbledore."

As I was looking for the headmaster, a voice interrupted me. "So we finally get the chance to meet, Harry. It's too bad it wasn't on better terms."

Remus walked up to me, and as I shook hands with him, I noticed that he bore quite a few scars.

"Most of them are old," he said, noticing what I was looking at. "Some of them aren't so old. Remember the man Hermione told you was dueling Bellatrix at the Malfoy's? That was me. One of the perks of being a werewolf is that I'm notoriously hard to kill, but very good at playing dead. If Bellatrix had known I was a werewolf, I'd probably have gotten a Killing Curse instead of a round of torture."

I nodded, filing that information away. I didn't want to talk about the Malfoys with anyone else just yet, so I stayed silent.

"You remind me of Lily," Remus said as we walked in the field. He was very timid, but there was the underlying steel that came from his youth, and being in the first war against Voldemort.

"She was always looking at how to get ahead in school, to know more and know it faster. She would be pleased that has son found a way to do just that; she'd be very proud of you."

"I hope so," I said. "Still, I don't think that it's really gotten me anywhere; just because I know all this magic doesn't mean I know when and where to use it. Maybe I should have just put my head down and done my classes.

"Nonsense!" Remus said, beginning to gesture with his hands as he became more comfortable around me. "What about helping Hermione with the Troll last year, or dealing with Quirrel? No ordinary first year student could have done that, and especially not what you've gone through recently.

"You were faced with superior forces in two well-planned ambushes; you can't ask for any better than to be alive and in one piece. The Malfoy family was set against you by Voldemort, and while I'm sure that there was a way to prevail without killing anyone, you should be thrilled that you three ended up safely home. The fact that Bellatrix Lestrange was there pretty much ensured bloodshed, so I don't think things could have went any better than they did. If you didn't act, it would have gone much worse.

"Harry, regardless of the where you got your abilities, without them you, Pansy and Hermione would be dead. Even if you had survived the Malfoys, everyone at the Burrow would have been killed. Last year, you very likely saved Snape's life when you fought Quirrel. A lot of people will have their lives spared because Grimmauld is now completely invulnerable to Voldemort.

"It all fits together, so I don't care whose curses you practice Harry. Your actions deserve high praise."

"Thanks, sir," I said. Remus had a way of making you feel very good about yourself. We chatted amicably about my parents and his time at Hogwarts, and I was admonished to call him "Remus" before I left.

My talk with Dumbledore had to wait until after he had dealt with the aftermath of those two days. The annihilation of the Malfoy family left an opportunity for the Order to benefit, and Dumbledore went after it full force. Using polyjuice several Order members impersonated the Malfoys in public areas, making plans to take a long trip. Much noise was made about taking Draco from Hogwarts, and payments were made for an International Portkey to Albania; one of the few countries that did not maintain representatives in the ICW or have standing agreements with international law enforcement groups.

The Malfoy manor and surrounding lands were sold to the Parkinsons privately at Gringotts, and the goblins recorded the sale and filed it in the appropriate vaults. The Parkinsons then closed the entire property off behind heavy wards, and a Fidelius Charm prevented anyone from asking questions about the purchase. The Malfoys were transfigured and buried somewhere on the grounds shortly afterward.

Nearly every galleon of the Malfoy fortune found its way into the Black vaults, using internal transfers at Gringotts. Since there was direct blood relation between the families, the Goblins didn't ask questions. When the money was moved again from the Black Vaults to various other vaults including the Potters, the amounts weren't high enough to arouse the Goblin's suspicions. Income from business partnerships and other endeavors was slowly converted to the Black vaults along with everything else.

Lockheart used his fame to great effect, arranging meetings with and selectively Obliviating everyone from high ranking Ministry officials to the students of Hogwarts; none of Lucius' business partners would question his appointment of a middle-man in their affairs, and none of Draco's friends would ever question why he never sent them mail or visited them again.

"This is what I do," he told me. "I run around the world cleaning up messes for people. For everything in my books that I've done, there are three that someone else has done that I've covered for so that they don't run into problems. The Defense League hides all their illegal actions behind my enormous white smile. It's a damn good thing the ladies love it, too; this would be a really shitty job if I had to sleep alone all the time!" Lockheart walked off laughing, heading towards his next "appointment."

I, on the other hand, walked off to find Hermione, and tell her that the man she idolized was a secret agent and womanizer that had no issues with corrupting 12 year old students.

Are there any muggle policemen reading this? Doesn't the lack of paper trail just hurt your head? I could talk your ear off about the differences between wizards and muggles, but the short of it is that wizarding society places the bulk of accountability on individual citizens, not government bodies or banks, and most of that came from well before Voldemort's time. You'll hear more about this in later years as I got more involved in larger community.

It was several days before I found myself back at Hogwarts, walking up to the Headmaster's office.

"Good morning, Harry!" he said, coming down the small stairway from his personal library. "I hope that you have recovered somewhat from recent events. Before you ask, I have not yet uncovered the agent used in switching the Floo destination to the Malfoys; the switch was made as the Hogwarts pathway intersected with the greater network. It would require someone in the maintenance department of the Floo network to do it, but it's next to impossible to scour the department without drawing the attention of the department head, and by extension, the Minister."

"I take it that means we avoid using the Floo for the time being?" I asked. Dumbledore nodded, and we walked over to his desk to sit down.

"It astounds me that Voldemort would use a prominent family like the Malfoys so poorly," he continued. "What absolutely baffles me is how Voldemort entered the Burrow without tripping the wards."

"He couldn't have gotten into them? Voldemort was taunting me about a 'miscalculation.'" Somehow, I wasn't convinced that Voldemort would be held up by the wards on a house for too long.

"I am absolutely sure," Dumbledore said. "There is no way that Voldemort could penetrate Hogwarts, the Burrow, or any other location I have secured without first tearing down the wards."

I had stopped listening as soon as he had mentioned Hogwarts and the Burrow together. Something clicked in the back of my mind, like a chess piece moving into place. "Shit!" I exclaimed, startling the professor and causing Fawkes to squawk.

"Something has occurred to you, I take it?"

"He has a way through the Hogwarts wards," I said, panic building in my voice. "The basilisk and the Chamber! Is there any reason that he couldn't come in through there?"

"I doubt that he could even think about Hogwarts while you're here--"

"But I wasn't here!" I shouted. "I was at the Malfoys! What if he possessed Ginny while I wasn't here?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and massaged his temples, a gesture of his frustration. "How has he gotten such detailed information about our wards and where you were going?" he asked out loud. The only answer he got was Fawkes trilling supportively.

We took a trip back to the Chamber, and I "helped" Dumbledore extend his wards to more fully cover the Chamber. It was well after dinner by the time he was satisfied that this little loophole had been covered.

"There are days," he said wearily as we ascended back to his office, "That I wish I was not responsible for so much. Every time I make a mistake, every time the smallest detail escapes my notice, people die.

"What else have I missed, then?" he asked bitterly. "What other piece has fallen into place for Voldemort while I was distracted by the events at the Malfoys, then the events at the Burrow, then cleaning up after those events, then wasting an entire day re-warding the Chamber?"

"Probably the Ministry," I said before I could stop myself. Dumbledore gave me a look of the most profound annoyance, before rubbing his face and turning away.

"Yes, Harry," he answered through his hands, giving his voice an old, tinny quality. "You're probably completely correct. After nearly two weeks of being absent, I will go into the Ministry tomorrow to find that the political field has shifted slightly, and that I will once again need to fight long and drawn out battles in the Wizengamot while I try to prevent the widespread use of the Imperius curse." With a great sigh, he fell into his chair, still cradling his head in his hands.

"Go, Harry. We'll pick up again in two days, after I've checked the school over again, and assessed any possible damage to the Ministry." I stopped to pet Fawkes for a moment before leaving, closing the door quietly behind me.

I had made it halfway back to Ravenclaw tower when someone fell in step beside, me. A small but strong hand took hold of mine, and I felt the familiar weight of someone leaning their head on my shoulder. I couldn't help but smile; only Pansy was reckless enough to just walk up and grab hold of me without announcing herself. Even Hermione and Ginny were careful to make eye contact first.

"This has all gone to hell, hasn't it?" she asked as we passed a series of windows overlooking the grounds.

"I don't know," I replied. "I think that it's stretched the limits of both groups, to be honest. I wonder if anything that Voldemort gained with this is worth the loss of the Malfoys."

"It had to be revenge," Pansy said. "The Malfoys must have done something to make him angry, so he maneuvered to have them killed."

"…Which removed me and Dumbledore from Hogwarts, letting Voldemort possess Ginny, who then traveled to the Burrow where Voldemort asserted control and kept me and therefore Dumbledore busy, which resulted in Dumbledore not being at the Ministry for the last two weeks, which has definitely been exploited."

Pansy shook her head as I rattled off my assessment. "God, we're not ready for this."

We walked on in silence, and my only thought was that Pansy was absolutely right.