Chapter 12

Into the Chamber

Harry knew something was awry the moment they touched down. Of course, it may have been because as they landed he lost his balance and fell to the floor. He would have been okay with falling – being used to Portkeys by now – but the fact that he landed smack-dab on top of Ginny, and in front of her parents, made him want to disappear into thin air.

Fortunately, he avoided major embarrassment because Ginny simply smiled up at him and said, “Hi, Harry!” as if it were the most normal thing in the world to her. He scrambled to his feet and then helped her up, brushing himself off in the process and trying to avoid everyone's gaze.

“Okay, come on you lot!” Mr. Weasley said loudly, beckoning them toward a roped-off corner of the room. “Does everybody have their invitation?” he asked.

Harry fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a slightly-wrinkled piece of parchment with his name on it. Looking around, he saw that the others were doing the same.

“So this is supposed to stop Death Eaters from attacking?” asked Ron incredulously. “They're not allowed in if they don't have an invitation? Somehow I don't think that's going to stop ‘ol snake-face.”

“Ron!” Hermione chastised. “You shouldn't—“

“No, it's okay, Hermione,” said Harry with a chuckle. “I don't mind. It is kind of silly if they're expecting invitations to stop Death Eaters. I wonder what else they're doing?” He began to look around the hall in earnest. He could see that there were Aurors strategically positioned in every corner making no effort to blend in. They wore their official Ministry uniforms and tried to appear imposing and alert. Amid the guests, Harry also thought he caught a glimpse of other Aurors, dressed in formal ball attire and doing their best to fit in.

“You really want to know what else they're doing?” asked Ron, looking over Hermione's head. “They're checking wands.”

“Well,” said Harry, “there's nothing wrong with my wand. We should be fine.”

“No, no. I mean they're collecting wands. You check your wand at the door and get it back when you leave.”

“They're what!” Harry shouted.

“Shh!” said Ginny. “Keep it down. Unless you want to attract the attention of those Prophet reporters over there.” She pointed across the room at clouds of purple smoke that appeared to be lingering over the heads of several reporters and photographers.

“Sorry,” Harry said, trying in vain to hide behind Ron.

“Right, who's next?” a sweet, feminine voice called from the desk in front of them. Harry looked up and saw a pretty young woman in very formal dress robes, smiling expectantly at them. Suddenly an idea popped into his head. “Ginny,” he whispered, “forgive me, okay? Maybe I can help us out a little bit.”

Putting on his most charming smile, he stepped forward and pulled his wand out for the woman to inspect. As he did so, he ran his hand through his hair in a jaunty way, exposing his scar from under his fringe.

“Hi,” he said casually. “I'm Harry Potter and these are my friends Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Nice night tonight, don't you think? You know, we've been looking forward to this ever since we got our invitations. It should be fun, shouldn't it?”

He focused his eyes directly on her. “What a great way to start a new year: meeting new people and making new friends.” He leaned forward on the counter. “So, will you be joining the party tonight, er… Alexandra?”

The others looked on in astonishment as the woman blushed and dropped her eyes. As far as they remembered, Harry had never used his celebrity status like this before and they certainly couldn't remember him ever flirting.

“No,” she said quietly, “I'll be working the desk all night.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure you'll miss an outstanding party. So many good people.” He straightened up and looked around. “Well, I suppose we'd better get inside. Lot's of old friends to see, you know.” He smiled again and began to lead his friends away.

“Oh, Mr. Potter,” she called after him, leaning across the counter.

He paused and stepped back. “Please, call me Harry,” he said gently, laying his hand on hers for a moment.

The woman blushed again.

“H-Harry, I'm… I mean, you're supposed to leave your wand before you go in. It's… it's Ministry policy.”

“Oh. Hmm. Well, maybe you could do me a kind of favor. It's not every day I get to meet a Ministry employee who's so pretty, er… hard working. Maybe you could let my friends and I take our wands in, you know, just in case?” He put on his most innocent face.

“I-I don't know. I could really get in trouble for this.”

“No one else has to know,” he said, lowering his voice. “It would just be between you and me .”

She bit her lip and then looked up at him as if caught in a dream. “Okay,” she said breathlessly, “I guess you can go on.” She inched closer to him. “But,” she whispered, “you owe me.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I do owe you.”

Once they were safely inside the main ballroom, Ron, Hermione and Ginny burst into fits of laughter.

“What did we miss?” asked Mr. Weasley, coming up next to them. He and Molly had gone through a different line because of his employment with the Ministry. Ron proceeded to give a word-for-word account of what had just happened. With each word, Harry felt himself growing redder and redder until he was sure he would die of embarrassment.

“That was quick thinking, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said when the story was done. “I didn't want them to take your wands but I have no authority in that area. I'm glad you found a way around it, even if you did have to, ahem, go about it that way.” He grinned.

Harry was sure Mr. Weasley was going to burst so he said ‘thank you' and steered Ginny away toward the hors d'oeuvres. They picked some of the more appetizing delectables and found a table with Ron and Hermione. The decorations on the tables and around the room were impressive and clearly expensive.

“I wonder who paid for all of this,” Harry mused.

“Actually,” said Hermione, looking critically at the flowers, “most of it was funded by businesses and private donors. I think Fred and George even contributed, though I'm sure this wasn't at all what they had in mind. It's not exactly their style, is it?”

“What she means is don't touch any of the flowers or you might sprout petals around your neck and turn yellow the rest of the night!” Ginny added.

They talked for a while about the decorations and the guests. While they sat, more than one friend from Hogwarts stopped by the table to chat. Neville and Luna wandered up to them and Harry was happy that she hadn't changed at all. Though the radish earrings were conspicuously absent, her unusual personality was showing in abundance. Harry counted three different topics in one sentence, which was only a small fraction of the paragraphs she talked in one breath, and none of it made any sense.

Harry became concerned when Neville's grandmother approached but was surprised to see her smile at her grandson.

“My Neville's found quite the young lady here, hasn't he?” she asked the table at large. “Yes, his mother and father would be proud. Now then, come find a table with me, dear. I'd like to ask your friend a few more questions about her father.”

Neville waved goodbye while Luna said ‘hello' and then abruptly walked away.

As the first hour passed, Harry found himself gazing for longer and longer periods at Ginny. He couldn't remember a time he felt so happy or so content. As the orchestra began a new piece he stood and offered his hand to her. Without a word, she took it and followed him onto the floor. Both of their hearts were racing as they clasped hands and began to step with the music and rhythm of the strings and brass. Harry was both concerned about his dancing skills and amazed that he held the hand of the most beautiful girl in the room. Ginny's dazzling smile and bright eyes seemed to be made only for him and it made the blood pound in his ears.

As they moved about the floor their eyes never left each other. They spoke volumes without saying a word. Harry found himself simply moving with her as if they were one. As the dance floor became more and more crowded, they finally decided to take a break and have some dinner.

They walked a full circle of the room searching for food but returned to their table empty-handed. Ron and Hermione were already eating and Harry looked at their plates longingly.

“All you do is tell your plate what you want, mate,” Ron said through a mouthful of steak.

“Yeah, I remember when they did that at Hogwarts once,” said Ginny brightly, picking up a menu.

Suddenly feeling quite famished, Harry filled his plate with an assortment of foods, while Ginny called up a salad and roast chicken. The food was well-prepared and Harry had to wonder if some of the house-elves from Hogwarts had come to the Ministry to help cook. He tried to imagine Dobby in an expansive kitchen directly below them, stirring and chopping and filling plates.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said and continued eating. He knew better than to bring up house-elves around Hermione.

Just as he took his last bite, a chill ran up his spine as a familiar voice approached their table. He wondered if he would ever be rid of Draco Malfoy in his lifetime.

“Well, Potty and the Weasel together at last. Can't believe that mudblood-lover Dumbledore let you leave the school. I'm surprised he let his treasured student out into the open where he could get hurt. Of course, if my father had had his way, you would have been chucked out of there years ago. If you'd survived this long, which you wouldn't have, you'd be living under a bridge somewhere hiding from the one real wizard in the world. None of this—“

“Malfoy,” said Harry, “if your father wasn't in prison, which he is, he'd probably be dead by now.”

“Don't be so sure, Potter,” the pale-faced boy sneered before. He paused as if to add something but turned away suddenly and disappeared into the crowd.

Something about Malfoy's last words bothered Harry and he couldn't help but ask Ginny what she thought.

“So, did he mean that his father wouldn't be dead or that he wasn't in prison?”

She tilted her head in thought. “I don't know. He must think that Tom would have let him off, even though he didn't get the prophecy from you. I think he just meant that he wouldn't be dead.”

Harry nodded his head but deep down couldn't shake the worry that something had happened at Azkaban. A few minutes passed in silence as he considered Malfoy's words over and over and finally he decided to forget it and ask Ginny to dance again. As he stood and turned to her a firm hand came to rest on his shoulder, making him jump and spin around.

Standing in front of him was none other than the Minister of Magic. The man held out his hand to Harry.

“Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you,” he said gruffly. “I'm Arthur McFee, Minster of Magic. I wonder… do you have a few moments?”

Harry glanced at his friends but they just stared blankly at him. It seemed he had no choice.

“Certainly, sir,” said Harry.

The older man led him on a weaving path through the tables and as they walked a thought came to Harry.

“Excuse me, sir?” Harry asked.

“Yes?” the Minster replied, though without slowing his steady gait.

Harry decided to just put it all out in one question. “Has anything strange happened at Azkaban lately?”

The man stopped so suddenly that Harry nearly ran into him. With eyes of steel, he turned toward Harry.

“How…” he began to say but then stopped. “What happens at Azkaban is no concern of yours, Mr. Potter. We have the situation entirely under control.”

Having long ago given up respect for Minster's of Magic, Harry pressed on. “So, no prisoners escaped, then?”

The Minister appeared slightly bothered for a moment but then sighed in resignation. “Come with me, Mr. Potter, we can't talk here.”

Harry decided to wait and see how things went. He still had every intention of finding out if Mr. Malfoy had, in fact, escaped, or if Draco had other meanings. They reached a side door of the ballroom and the Minister nodded to the guard who let them pass through. Inside was a very boring room of gray with a large table in the center. Harry supposed it was some sort of meeting room. About a dozen high-backed chairs were placed evenly around the table but otherwise the room was empty. The Minister pulled out a two chairs and beckoned for Harry to take one.

“Listen, Harry… may I call you Harry?”

Harry nodded and the older man continued.

“I have the highest respect for you and Albus. In fact, I've given him rather a lot of leeway this past year. No doubt in order for him to train you in fighting Death Eaters. They certainly seem attracted to you, anyway; and I'm sure you'll make a fine Auror someday soon.”

“Harry,” he said tiredly, “I don't know how you found out about it – I only heard myself a few hours ago – there was a breakout from Azkaban early today.”

“I heard it from Draco Malfoy,” said Harry heavily.

The Minister's eyes hardened. “Did you? Yes, his father was among those who escaped. There is no doubt it was the work of Voldemort. As of today, the Dementors have given up control of the island and disappeared. We have every Auror who's not on duty here out looking for them.

“I had only wanted to speak with you for a moment to say hello and express my wish that you had an enjoyable summer. However, under the circumstances, I would like to impress upon you the gravity of the situation and ask that you not get involved, at least not for a time. The Ministry has many Aurors trained in this sort of work and it is their job to deal with Voldemort and the Death Eaters.”

“Minister, I can't—“ Harry began to say.

“Harry, please take my word under judgment. As a young man who's faced Voldemort far too many times, it would be better for you if you just stayed away for a while.”

They sat a few moments in silence. The wheels in Harry's brain turned rapidly, trying to come up with an answer to such a request. How could he agree? He knew it wasn't possible but for some reason he didn't feel like arguing right now.

He sighed deeply. “So this is how the war starts then,” he said quietly. He knew this day would come soon but he had hoped it would at least wait until after the ball. The heavy weight on his shoulders seemed to increase and he felt them slump.

A firm hand pushed them back and he looked up to meet the Minister's gaze.

“Yes, this is how it begins. But don't give up hope, there are a lot of people fighting for the right side. It will just take some time.”

Harry couldn't tell him that it could only end with him, nor did he have the heart to. Instead, he stood and looked pointedly at the door.

“Go ahead,” the older man said, “have a good night with your friends and don't worry about this. Someone will get it sorted out.”

Feeling slightly disheartened by the Minister's lack of lack of faith in his Aurors, Harry trudged back across the large room. He wondered how it would happen. Would Voldemort come to him? Would his friends be captured and used as bait? No matter what the situation, Harry was once again having trouble seeing the other side of it; the side where he came out alive.

As he sat down, Ginny laid a soothing hand on his arm and caught his eye with a comforting gaze. Ron and Hermione just looked on, having seen Harry like this many times. They simply awaited the news.

“The Dementors have left Azkaban and the prisoners have escaped. The Minister just told me.”

Harry had expected gasps and concerned voices but what he hadn't expected was silence. He looked up and found his friends' heads bent. It took only the work of a moment for him to understand. Always before had he watched them to see their reaction to him , to how it would effect his world. But somehow he saw them now as their own people. The news affected them in their own lives, not just in their friendship with him but in their own families, as well.

“But you know what?” he asked sternly. “I'm not going to let them ruin my night. You three have been right all along. If we stop living our lives then he's already won.”

He stood and offered his hand to Ginny, watching in amazement as his words sunk in and she began to smile.

“Ginny,” he asked, “would you like to dance?”

She nodded and stood, giving him a peck on the cheek as they started off toward the dance floor. Harry glanced behind and saw Ron and Hermione, hands clasped together, following them with their own smiles. He grinned to himself. Maybe he would still have a good night.

After nearly an hour of dancing, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, Harry found he was still having fun, despite his aching feet and the warmth of the room. Ginny danced and twirled around with him as he laughed and pulled her close.

“What would I have ever done without you?” he asked. He felt her shiver as his breath touched her ear.

“You would still have Ron and Hermione,” she said, “but I don't fancy the idea of either of them kissing you.”

Harry laughed.

“Harry,” she continued, “I don't… I don't know what I'd do without you . I feel like everything will be okay when you're around. And I want to help you deal with everything by just being there for you.”

“You have no idea how much that helps,” he said quietly.

“I'm glad,” she continued. “All my life I've felt like I was standing on the outside looking in, but with you… I feel like there is no in or out, like we're together just taking it as it comes. And there's no one I'd rather be with than you. I love you, Harry. I always will.”

“I love you, too, Ginny, and—“

He paused.

She paused.

They both looked around. A strange magic seemed to fill the air and it made the skin on Harry's neck crawl. A sound like fingernails on a chalkboard filled the room and people threw their hands over their ears. In the pit of his stomach, Harry felt a slow dread begin to fill him. It crept up his back and around his shoulders and he unconsciously drew his wand. He felt Ginny unwrap her arms from his sides and, though he couldn't tell from where, her own wand appeared in her hand.

The noise reached a crescendo and then, as if by some unseen magic, it disappeared entirely. The shock filled the room and total silence reigned. A suggestion of a memory came into Harry's mind and he broke out into a cold sweat.

“G-Ginny,” he said shakily, “do you remember my dream? The one where the Death Eaters came to the ball?”

Her eyes grew wide and she nodded slowly, her face paling.

“It can't happen,” he said stiffly. “I won't let them take you. We'll Apparate out of here, right now.”

“Harry,” she said, “you can't Apparate out of the Ministry.” She touched his face. “No matter what happens, I love you. We can do this together.”

As if on cue, Ron and Hermione appeared next to them, looking vigilant. Their wands were drawn and their eyes sought out Harry, watching for his reaction. He closed his eyes and stretched out his magic across the room.

His eyes opened again quickly. “They're here, Death Eaters,” he said, staring off toward the far end of the room.

At that very moment a blast ripped through the air and suffocating screams erupted into their ears. A cloud of dust was visible rising into the air far away from them. Dark-cloaked figures poured into the room like molten tar, wrecking everything in sight. The Death Eaters had arrived.

As if watching in a trance, Harry's mind clicked back into action. In unspoken agreement the four pressed hard against the flow of the crowd. Harry's concern grew two-fold as he realized that none of these witches or wizards had their wands. The bright arcs of spells across the room were coming from the Death Eaters, the Aurors, and the few Ministry employees who had been allowed to carry their wands. The stupidity of the Ministry barely registered in his mind as his brain switched into fighting mode. Without a second thought he burst through the edge of the retreating crowd and began blasting spells and hexes at every hooded figure he could see.

As if surprised by the sudden appearance of a machine bombarding spells upon them, the Death Eaters backed off for a moment but then surged forward again. Cloak after cloak fell to the ground with a thud or a cry. Harry was using nearly every hex and spell he had but at the same time was holding back. It pained him to do it but they couldn't yet know his full power. In split-seconds between rushes of magic he glanced sideways at this friends. Ron and Ginny were both fighting with the powerful resolve he'd often seen in their mother when she was yelling at the twins, while Hermione was downright scary. Harry couldn't remember a time he'd ever seen her fight with such ferocity. Her arms and robes whipped about her and most of the Death Eaters she struck down hardly knew what hit them.

Harry now found himself jumping and dodging fallen hooded bodies as he pressed forward. The floor was littered with Death Eaters and whether dead or alive he couldn't tell, or didn't care. There was enough blood on the floor that his stomach started to twist and turn. And still they came.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a few mighty spells reach Ginny but she dodged and rolled across the floor. He could see stains on her robes and hoped the blood wasn't her own. With new resolve he attacked the Death Eater in front of her. A tripping jinx brought the man to the floor but in a flash he was up again, his hood now slipping down across his shoulders and his blond hair spilling out.

The fiery eyes of Lucius Malfoy turned on Harry and he could feel the hatred burning behind the man's mask. They traded hexes and curses and Harry felt himself finally being challenged. The elder Malfoy was no man to be toyed lightly with and Harry now understood one of the reasons he'd been admitted into Voldemort's inner circle.

A cutting curse grazed his leg and he winced in pain. In return he cast a stinging hex, catching Malfoy's arm and giving him a moment to shift his weight and wipe the sweat from his brow. A brief side-to-side glance showed him that his three friends were still fighting and appeared unscathed.

Pulling up a mild shield, Harry began to fight Malfoy in earnest. He was at least thankful that Malfoy's attention was drawn from Ginny. Without dwelling on the thought, he continued to fight the hate in front of him. For minutes they battled, each sparing moments here and there to fire a spell off at another opponent, but mostly concentrating on each other. Harry's brain was a whirling mix of spells, hexes, jinxes and curses.

As the battle around them miraculously began to wind down, Harry looked away for a moment toward Ron and Hermione. He saw them still fighting and allowed himself a small grin. As his eyes turned back to Malfoy he almost expected to face the green jet of a killing curse and internally berated himself for looking away. What he actually saw was much worse. In the moment between looking away and looking back, Ginny had been knocked unconscious, and by the look on Malfoy's face, he was responsible.

Anger filled his thoughts and he began fighting with more powerful spells and more cunning methods. With his attentions focused entirely on this one man, Harry knew he would be victorious. It wasn't until the snarl of laughter escaped Malfoy's lips that Harry looked away again. Three Death Eaters had Ginny held up between them and were dragging her away from the fighting. With an all-but-unstoppable stunning spell, Malfoy was knocked out and Harry chased after Ginny. Seeing him coming, the Death Eaters carrying her gave a quick nod to each other. The largest one reached around her waist and activated a port key at the same time. In a flash they were gone.

The realization took a moment to hit Harry. One minute they had been battling side-by-side, the next she was unconscious and then before Harry knew what had happened, they had taken her. They had taken his Ginny. They had taken the girl that he loved.

Facing the two remaining Death Eaters, Harry raised his wand and gave a cry that echoed across the room. The briefest look of fear crossed their faces before they crumpled to the floor. Turning on the spot, Harry began to methodically remove every Death Eater in his path. Leaving no spell behind, he stunned and bound every single one. As his path of destruction reached Ron and Hermione, he saw shadows cross their faces as they reached out to him. Only a handful of Death Eaters remained and what Aurors were left captured them in short order.

Feeling suddenly defeated, Harry let himself crash into his friends and close his eyes. He couldn't face the world and he didn't want to. Voldemort had Ginny in his very clutches by now and there was nothing Harry could do. His exertion from the battle caught up with him and only with the help of his two friends did he manage to stand at all. His eyes drifted across the room to the heaps of fallen bodies. Most were Death Eaters but some were not.

Suddenly unable to take it in, he fell to the floor and retched, heaving up what was left of his dinner. Tears mixed with sweat as four hands reached down to gently hold him. His senses seemed dulled and he was only dimly aware of the chaos around him and the movement of his body. At last he gave in to the darkness and let his conscious mind fade away. The last words he heard were ‘Let's get him out of here' before he lost consciousness.

 

*****

 

The muffled sounds of an argument filtered slowly through his mind as Harry began to wake up. He couldn't identify the voices or where he was and only by sheer willpower did he open his eyes. Thankfully his glasses were still on and still intact. He raised his head and was surprised to find himself on the floor in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. His head began to spin but he forced himself to sit up anyway.

All around the floor were people sleeping on mats. Turning to find the source of the disturbance, Harry discovered he was only a short distance from Ron and Hermione. From the few words he could hear, they seemed to be arguing about him.

“Ron, Hermione, I'm awake,” he said quietly, rubbing his eyes.

Their whispered discussion stopped and their heads snapped around to him. By the guilty looks on their faces he decided they had been talking about him, but he didn't seem to care.

They came toward him and Hermione hugged him while Ron looked on worriedly.

“What happened, mate?” Ron asked.

“Ron!” Hermione said. “It's too early, he needs some rest.”

“There's no time, Hermione,” Ron added, with a quick sideways glance at her. “Harry might know what happened to Ginny and we don't have time to mess around.”

At Ron's words it all came back to Harry like the crack of a whip. He groaned and put his head in his hands.

“See, I told you we should have left him alone. Now you've got him all upset again.”

“No, Hermione,” Harry said, “Ron's right. We've got to do something.” He proceeded to tell them everything that had happened. By the end of the story, Hermione looked stricken and Ron was as red as a beet.

“Why, those—“ he began but couldn't find the right words.

“I know,” Harry groaned. He was starting to feel tired again but knew that there wasn't any time to waste. He had to find Ginny before something happened to her. He sat up further but was held back by Hermione's quick grasp.

“Harry, wait. Voldemort's not going to hurt her yet. It's you he wants. It always has been. He's using Ginny as bait to get to you. I know you want to go after her right now – I do, too – but we need to have some sort of plan. We don't even know where she is, for Merlin's sake!”

Harry relented and his shoulders sagged. “But what if he hurts her just to get back at me?”

They all looked at each other, knowing it was possible but not wanting to say it out loud.

“Okay,” said Ron, gritting his teeth, “we'll wait a few hours but then we're going after her.”

Harry looked at his watch. It was nearly six in the morning and he was surprised to find he'd been out for so long. The Death Eater attack had to have been well before midnight. Feeling slightly awakened by the thought, he sat up straighter and pulled his wand from his pocket, rolling it absently between his fingers.

“Okay, so finding out if she's okay should be easy. With your help I should be able to reach her. The problem is, what if Voldemort knows about us and our… connection, and he's watching her mind. He'll know I'm there and he'll know where we are. I think we should wait to talk to her until we're ready to fight again.”

The other two considered it for a few moments and then nodded. Hermione seemed intensely thoughtful, while Ron was still looking murderous. They tossed ideas around for a few more minutes but couldn't seem to get anywhere. Finally, Harry suggested that they just lay down for a while and store up their strength.

“Harry, you and Ron can lay down for a bit. I'm going to talk to Dumbledore about our plan.”

Both Harry and Ron made to argue but she cut them off with a quick wave of her hand and walked away. They sat back down and watched her. As she reached Dumbledore, Ron laid down on his mat. Threading his fingers behind his head, he closed his eyes, although Harry could tell he wasn't going to sleep.

Harry remained sitting up and looked around the room. There were upwards of a hundred people present and he knew most of them. Some were students who had been in the D.A. and others were members of the Order, or Ministry Aurors. He was happy that they all seemed to be in one piece but he could feel the somber emotion filling the room.

Minutes ticked by and still Hermione talked. Harry couldn't hear them but he wondered what Dumbledore was saying. Just as he began to get to his feet, he was shocked to see the centaur, Firenze, gallop quickly into the hall. The noise and vibration of his hooves caused quite a commotion and every eye followed him to the end of the hall. He came to a skidding halt in front of Dumbledore.

After a conversation that couldn't have lasted more than half a minute, Dumbledore turned to face everyone with a most serious expression. His voice quavered as he began to speak.

“My friends, this night marks a sad night. First the attack at the Ministry, and now… now we are under attack in this very castle.” The old man held up his hand to quite the cries and shouts that followed his statement.

“I will not force you to come with me but I will lead those of you who are able and willing to fight. We must go now.” He walked quickly to the doors of the hall and turned to see who was following.

Harry jumped to his feet along with Ron and together they began to walk toward the doors. Hermione met up with them only a moment later, just as they reached the edge of the massive crowd gathering around Dumbledore. Over the heads of the people, Harry could see a fire come into his mentor's eyes and he knew why. He turned and looked about the room. Not a soul had remained behind.

Dumbledore's loud voice echoed off the walls and the very depth of it seemed to stir their souls. “We go now to what may be the final battle,” he shouted. “We will defend this school and the good that is in its students and its teachings! To the gates!”

With a surprising jolt the aged man took off at a run. The front doors of the castle burst open well before the rest of them reached them. As they sprinted across the vast lawn, Harry saw a handful of Aurors battling a large group of Death Eaters inside the gates. Jets of light arched into the sky and fire rained down everywhere.

As he ran, Harry was feeling torn inside. He wanted to defend the castle but he also wanted to track down Ginny. He knew that he might have a hard time finding her and retrieving her without Dumbledore's help. He wondered what Hermione had learned but had no time to ask, for they had reached the gates.

A bright orange spell shot over Harry's head and he spun and ducked, firing off a barrage of stunning and cutting hexes against every dark-hooded figure in sight. It was very dark this far from the castle and the fact seemed to be working to the Death Eater's advantage.

In one swift movement, Harry pointed his wand straight up and uttered a quick incantation. Even bracing his wand with both hands, he was nearly forced to the ground with the surge of energy that burst forth. A great arc shot into the sky and exploded into a brilliant ball of white-hot fire. All of the grounds were suddenly lit up like noonday. The Death Eaters were struck by the brightness for a moment and many were struck down as they made to shade their eyes.

The battle raged on and on. Harry grew anxious as the time flew by. Whether it was seconds or minutes or hours, he couldn't tell. How could there be so many Death Eaters? How had Voldemort recruited them all and convinced them he was right?

A shower of dirt from a wayward spell hit him in the face and he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. The light of morning was beginning to show across the horizon but it gave him little new strength. He bound a Death Eater nearby and began to search for his friends. His eyes barely turned when he found them fighting on either side of him, no more than twenty paces away. In spite of the situation he felt honored by their show of loyalty.

Calling up his reserve strength he spoke a few hasty words to them in his mind and turned to run. Behind him he could sense them turning to follow. They were moving slowly, though, trying to eliminate any who saw them going.

At last they reached to castle and ran inside. Harry leaned a hand against the wall to catch his breath while Ron and Hermione sat heavily on the main steps. Ron looked a little worse for the wear but seemed to be all in one piece. Hermione was dirty and Harry noticed her scowling at her left shoulder. He watched as she twisted her wand into it and muttered something under her breath. A look of pain flashed over her face and then she lifted her head with an odd grin.

“It worked,” she said simply, in answer to his questioning look.

“Harry?” a voice called from the doorway.

Turning, Harry saw the fiery gaze of the Headmaster. A sense of awe flowed through him and he was reminded of the battle in the Ministry atrium, when Dumbledore had fought Voldemort. A power seemed to permeate the air and Harry felt it and, for once, understood it.

“Voldemort's not out there,” Harry stated. “Do you think he's here or do you think he just sent his followers?”

Dumbledore closed his eyes and stood quietly for a moment. “I can not say for sure, Harry. Perhaps now is the time for you to use your own magic. My time may not be long and I wish for you to learn to choose your own path. You are fully capable.”

“Sir, I—“

“No, Harry. Listen to me. You must choose. I will only tell you that I believe he is here. I also believe he has Miss Weasley with him.”

“Very well,” Harry said through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes but found his anger with Dumbledore was too intense to continue. Forcing himself to concentrate on Ginny alone, he felt his senses slowly leaving his body and searching the castle. Instinctively, he began to look downward, into the very bowels of the castle.

A glimpse of a familiar sight flashed in his mind. He tried to separate reality from memory and focused even harder on the girl he loved. The scene reappeared for a moment. It was eerily reminiscent of the end of his second year, only now the girl laying on the floor looked somewhat older and only slightly less worse for the wear.

Without opening his eyes, he spoke. “Voldemort is here and Ginny's with him. They're in the Chamber of Secrets.”

With an audible gasp, Hermione buried her face in her hands. Ron put a comforting arm around her shoulder, his face visibly paling.

Harry felt a strong hand grip his shoulder and opened his eyes. He was greeted by the brightest blue as the Headmaster's eyes turned on him.

“It is time, Harry.”

Harry could only nod mutely. It's time, he thought. Does he think I'm going to die? Does he think he's going to die? Is it time for Ginny and I to die together fighting the most evil Dark lord of all time? What about Ron and Hermione, will they make it through this?

Recovering from these thoughts, he discovered his feet were moving under him. He looked ahead and found they were nearly to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Steeling himself, he pushed it open and walked over to the tap he remembered from years before.

The hissing and spitting of his voice seemed familiar but far away. It seemed only a moment before he was sitting down, preparing to slide down the pipe into the sewers below. A strange cry echoed around the room just as he was about to let go. He turned and felt his heart lighten. Fawkes had swooped into the room and come to rest on Dumbledore's shoulder. Harry pulled himself back out of the pipe.

“You know the way, don't you, Fawkes?” he asked the large bird.

In answer to his question, Fawkes lifted his leg toward Harry. Beckoning Ron and Hermione over to him, Harry let the bird take hold of his shoulder. He felt strength flow through him and his body grew as light as a feather. Fawkes lifted them slowly off the ground and with a strange grace, carried them down into the darkness below.

A dim light surrounded them as they slipped down through the stale air. In the pipes and sewers of the castle time was all but forgotten. The thick smell of mildew caught in Harry's nose and he opened his mouth to breathe, instead.

His memories played back in bursts as they reached the bottom. Some of the journey was missing in his memories, while other parts were overwhelmingly clear. Sensing Dumbledore's intentions, Harry took the lead as they began making their way through the maze of enormous pipes toward the Chamber. They came to the place where Lockhart had caused the ceiling cave-in and through Dumbledore's careful work, enough rock was moved for them to get by.

At last they reached the Chamber door. Squinting his eyes, as he remembered doing before, Harry commanded the door to open and it obeyed. When it finally ground to a halt, a great sense of dread came over him. He still didn't know what he was going to do. They had talked about this day for so long but he still had no clear plan to defeat Voldemort.

He turned to ask Dumbledore what his plans were, but instead, the older man walked right past him. Harry shared one last look with Ron and Hermione before turning to follow.

From the far end of the chamber, the sight looked very much as it had so many years before. Ginny lay on the ground and though he could tell she was alive, he couldn't hear her voice in his head when he called. Above her, as if admiring his prize, stood Voldemort. His red eyes glowed while his twisted smile made him look very sinister. The hairs rose slowly on the back of Harry's neck and he internally thanked Dumbledore for taking the lead.

“So we meet again, Tom,” Dumbledore said quietly as they approached.

Voldemort hissed angrily. “Only you would dare call me by that name, old man.”

“It is still who you are, Tom. You have only chosen to forget.”

While the two traded barbs, Harry organized with Ron and Hermione to spread out into a half-circle. That way, at least they wouldn't hit each other if they missed hitting Voldemort. Harry moved around one side of Dumbledore, while Ron and Hermione spread out on the other. He felt mildly encouraged by the four-to-one count and he wiped the sweat from his wand-hand, preparing to fight.

Voldemort turned and addressed Harry directly now. “When will you learn, boy, that it is useless pitting yourself against Lord Voldemort? You, like your mentor, will not rise to the high level of magic I have reached, therefore it's impossible for you to beat me.”

“You mean that I won't resort to Dark Magic?” Harry snarled. “True, but your downfall will only be because you didn't bother to learn the power of magic that's good.”

“Spoken from the heart, Harry,” Voldemort spat, “but I'm afraid noble notions won't help little Ginny, here.”

From the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Dumbledore give a tiniest flick of his wand. A thread, barely visible to the eye, spun from the end and wrapped once around the feet of the Dark Lord. With a small nod, Harry agreed.

In a flash of light, Voldemort was knocked off his feet. In the same moment, Harry Apparated over to Ginny, grabbed her arm and twisted to Apparate away again. Unfortunately, he didn't make it. The words of the Cruciatus curse barely registered in his ears before he was blinded with an all-consuming pain. It felt as if his very skin was on fire. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. He raised his head and saw a battle of three-on-one begin. Throwing himself upward with all his might, he pulled Ginny's arm. She didn't move. A curse flew his way and he dodged it, taking only a moment to look down and see that Ginny was somehow bound to the floor with nearly transparent cords.

Anger filled his mind and he took a mighty leap forward, launching into a barrage of hexes that caused Voldemort to recoil slightly. He felt curses tearing at his robes but ignored them. Ron and Hermione seemed to have worked out a system of alternating hexes, while Dumbledore drew vast power through his wand and struck Voldemort repeatedly with powerful bolts of lightning. For his part, Harry remained focused on how to get Ginny away. He was at least thankful that Voldemort was too busy to target her.

A cutting curse struck Harry across the thigh and he cried out in pain but did not stop fighting. Ron was bleeding from above one ear and his left hand was badly gashed. Hermione had so far avoided any major damage, for which Harry was thankful. Dumbledore fought on, but whether injured or not, Harry couldn't tell.

He had to find a way to get to Ginny. The longer she stayed unconscious, the less likely she was to come back. He fired a particularly vicious stunning spell and saw his opportunity. He Apparated to the other side of Voldemort from Ginny and attacked fiercely, drawing his attention. He fought from his position for a few moments and then Apparated ten feet to one side. He did this several times, each time remaining roughly opposite Ginny. The very last time he reappeared next to her and leaned down.

The cords were bound very tightly around her and seemed to grow from the floor. Knowing he only had a second or two, Harry cast Reenervate without thinking. With a gasp, Ginny's eyes opened and she looked frantically around. Harry Apparated back to the other side of the room and fired a few quick spells. In his mind he called to Ginny.

“Ginny, Apparate away! Now!”

“I can't! I don't have my wand!” she cried out loud.

Hearing her cries, Voldemort turned to her. Before he could raise his wand, Harry had reappeared between them.

“You won't hurt her again!” Harry shouted.

Voldemort sneered at him and fired a cutting curse. It was absorbed by Harry's shield but in the second it took to perform the spell, Ron caught Voldemort with a Reductor curse and shattered his left hand. Screaming madly, Voldemort spun around to Ron but Harry hit him with an Impediment Jinx. Grabbing Ginny's hand, he squeezed his eyes shut and Apparated her out of her bindings.

“ Accio Ginny's wand,” he shouted. It came flying right from the Dark Lord's robes and Ginny caught it deftly. She didn't wait a moment to join in the fight.

The first real look of concern crossed Voldemort's face now and his eyes searched madly for an exit.

“You can't get away, Tom,” Dumbledore said between spells.

Voldemort's red eyes turned on Dumbledore with an insane look. “You!” he screamed. “I should have been rid of you years ago.” He began to advance toward the older man.

“Leave!” shouted Dumbledore.

“Yes, leave!” cried Harry.

He felt a tug on his elbow and turned slightly. Ginny was standing next to him.

“Harry, he meant for you to leave. For us to leave.”

“No!” he shouted, pulling away from her. “I won't leave him to fight alone!” He moved closer and positioned himself several yards from Dumbledore. Ron and Hermione were still opposite and were still fighting. Ginny ran up beside Harry, her wand blazing with spells. It seemed none of them had any intention of leaving the Headmaster by himself.

For many brave minutes they fought. Voldemort grew more and more out of control. His curses were now being fired in every direction, regardless of where his opponents were. Harry's confidence was growing but he was also concerned about what Voldemort might try in this state of madness.

In one gut-wrenching moment, his question was answered. Voldemort turned slowly, positioning himself facing Dumbledore. He fired a couple of spells and then in the blink of an eye, Apparated directly in front of the old man. Harry watched in horror as Dumbledore lowered his wand and Voldemort raised his. The others could only look on as if frozen in place. It couldn't be happening like this, Harry told himself. Voldemort's wand was mere inches from Dumbledore's chest.

“Go ahead, Tom,” Dumbledore said evenly, “but you will not win by my death. Harry can, and will, defeat you in the end.”

A quiet voice broke into Harry's mind, “Goodbye, Harry, and remember: love, Harry, love.”

In a flash of green it was over. Dumbledore fell lifeless to the floor and Voldemort disappeared with a cackle of mad laughter.

 

*****

 

Harry had no idea how he got out of the Chamber. Through his shock he only remembered the jostling and touching of strong hands and walking up countless stairs. When his senses returned again it was only to discover he was back at the entrance to the Great Hall.

As they walked numbly through the door the room went silent around them. Harry looked up in wonder as Hermione walked bravely to the front and stood where the Headmaster usually addressed them. When she spoke, her voice was strong but cracked with emotion.

She told them of the fight against Voldemort in the Chamber and the rescue of Ginny. She told them of the heroism of her friends and how none of them would leave Dumbledore, even when he asked. And then she told them, in a voice full of emotion, how Dumbledore had chosen the time of his own death. She finished, somewhat more quietly, by saying that Voldemort had disappeared and they should still be prepared to fight him again.

Ron had followed her to the front of the room and now held her close as they walked slowly back toward Harry and Ginny. Together, the four friends left the Great Hall and made their way aimlessly about the castle. In the end they arrived, unplanned, at Gryffindor Tower and decided to seek comfort there.

The fat lady wiped her eyes as they approached. “Is it true?” she asked quietly.

They could only nod their heads.

Without even asking for the password, she opened silently to admit them to their old house. Harry followed last in the group and turned as he stepped into the hole. He looked back down the hall, remembering the years he had spent going to classes and chatting with his friends… and getting to know the Headmaster, whom he later called his friend and mentor. He missed the old man terribly and suddenly didn't want to go inside.

A hand on his arm caused him to turn back and he was encouraged by the sight of Ginny, gently persuading him to follow. They went quietly to the sofas by the fire and sat down, Ron by Hermione and Harry by Ginny. For a time, nothing was said. Words seemed to fail them all and fall short of expressing their true emotions.

“D'you think the Death Eaters are gone?” Ginny asked after a while.

Harry's head popped up at the question but Ron answered.

“They must be, right? I mean, everyone was back in the Great Hall and we were winning when we left. I wonder if they just Disapparated or if they were… you know, captured.”

It was quiet again for a time. The small fire hissed and popped in the hearth but they paid it little attention.

Harry had been giving some thought to the Headmaster's last words. Unable to make sense of them, he decided to say them out loud.

“The last thing Dumbledore said to me was to remember to love. I heard it in my head before he… but I still don't know what it means! How is love going to stop Voldemort? How am I ever going to win?” He buried his head in his hands.

“Harry?” Hermione asked. “Maybe it's simpler than we think. All along we've been looking for some really powerful spell to kill him. Maybe all you really need is the strength to fight him and the will to live through it.”

“Yeah,” added Ron, “Hermione's right. It would be different if you didn't have anything to fight for, but you do.” His eyes darted to Ginny and back. “I mean, if it was me, and Voldemort was threatening any of you,” his eyes went to Hermione, “I'd fight for everything I was worth because I'd want to come out on the other side alive. I'd want to have my future. I'd fight because I have people I care for.”

“Oh, Ron,” cried Hermione, “I'm sorry I ever said anything bad about you. That's such a beautiful thought. You make me proud.”

Ron's ears went slightly pink but he smiled at her praise.

“You can do this, Harry,” he said. “It's not that you need anything special. You've got it all right here in front of you. All you have to do is just find the opportunity. You know, smash him under a dirty great rock or something.”

Harry chuckled in spite of himself.

“It doesn't have to be now, Harry,” said Ginny, squeezing his hand. “You can have time to regroup, to do whatever you need to do.”

Harry sat up slightly. “No,” he said firmly, “this needs to be finished and it needs to be finished now.”

“You don't mean… right now?” asked Hermione in a trembling voice.

“I do,” he answered. “It's time to finish Voldemort once and for all.”

 

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