Phoenix Rising Part 3 Continued
 

The Dark Lord was growing restless and impatient, and a little desperate. The potions Snape was brewing for him were becoming less and less effective, and soon he needed to supplement them with blood in order to maintain his strength. He sent his Death Eaters out to capture victims to be sacrificed--Muggles, at first, because their disappearances were less likely to be noticed in the wizarding world. They took people who were not likely to be missed, even among the Muggles--homeless people, runaways, prostitutes, and drug dealers--people who vanished every day without anyone noticing or caring. But the sacrifice of a normal person did not provide anywhere near as much power as that of a wizard or magical being, so he sent his Death Eaters to the Forbidden Forest to hunt unicorns for their blood, which had sustained him when he was forced to share Quirrell's body. That turned out to be his second mistake.

A centaur patrol happened upon the Lestranges just as they had slain a unicorn. Enraged, the centaurs attacked, but were no match for the Death Eaters, who slew them all except for one young centaur who was little more than a boy; this would be his first and last patrol. Rabastan was about to finish him off when Bellatrix stopped him.

"Let him die slowly, a long and lingering death, with his hope fading to despair even as the blood drains out of his body," she said, and her brother-in-law and husband laughed along with her in sadistic pleasure. "It's a pity we won't be able to stay behind and watch," she added, giving the boy a mocking kiss on the forehead before they gathered the unicorn blood they had come for, and departed.

The young centaur was too weak to summon up enough strength even to spit at Bellatrix as she taunted him, but he clung to life long enough to be found by a second patrol of centaurs, who had gone out when the first did not return on time. When asked who had done this to him, he whispered, "Three wizards in black robes," and died. All this still might have made no difference, except that the boy was the son of Bane, the leader of the centaurs. After several days of heated debate and seeking signs in the stars and in the fire, they finally sent a message to Firenze, who was still living in exile at Hogwarts...
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Voldemort was feeling stronger now, sustained by blood and magic, but it was still only a temporary measure. He could not return to full strength and power until he had slain the Potter child--but how? Killing a half-trained wizard ought to be child's play, but the boy had escaped certain death time and time again. Voldemort needed an edge, some advantage against the boy...but what? Finally Voldemort decided to brew a Prophecy Potion in an attempt to see the future and how he might prevail over Potter. Snape was the best potion-brewer among all his Death Eaters, better even than the Dark Lord himself, so he should have entrusted this task to his servant, particularly since the potion was a complicated one that called for ingredients that were poisonous in the wrong dosage. But Voldemort did not quite trust Snape, although he wasn't sure why. He couldn't quite put his finger on it; he had never detected a lie in Severus, never picked up anything from him but the appropriate amount of fear and reverence. Voldemort suspected that Snape served more out of fear than reverence, but that didn't matter to him as long as his servant remained loyal; fear was better than reverence at inspiring obedience, anyway. There was also the fact that Snape had worked for Dumbledore for the past fifteen years, of course, but Voldemort had been dead (or so everyone had believed), and Severus, like Lucius, was a prudent man who would be quick to cast his lot with the winning side. Now that Voldemort had returned alive and embodied, he was reasonably sure that Severus feared him more than Dumbledore.

But...Severus did not like to kill. He never flinched at the sight of death, but neither did he take pleasure in it as the Lestranges did. Voldemort suspected that Snape had a secret streak of honor, much as Rosier and Wilkes had. That was useful, because that sense of honor had kept Rosier and Wilkes loyal unto death, but it was also a weakness. Lucius Malfoy had no such weakness, and although it made him more dangerous, Voldemort respected him for it--at least as much as he ever respected any of his minions. But Severus had watched carefully over Evan Rosier's son, and Voldemort suspected there was a little more to it than simply grooming a future Death Eater or even nurturing a promising Potions apprentice. One could not say that Snape had been close friends with Evan Rosier and Lyall Wilkes, but they were the closest thing to friends that he had seemed to have in the old days. Voldemort thought it might be loyalty to his old friend's memory that made him watch over Dylan so closely; very touching, but it was a weakness, and Voldemort did not like weaknesses, and love was the worst weakness of all. Love made people do foolish things: a young heiress renounce her family and fortune for a Death Eater lover, a mother sacrifice her life to save her child. Voldemort was not sure that Severus's feelings for Dylan were strong enough to be called "love," but he took too much of an interest in the boy's safety, and to a lesser extent, the safety of his other students, for Voldemort's comfort. He still remembered how quickly Snape had reached for his wand when the roses had attacked Dylan. What might one do protect a child one loved? Betray one's master, possibly...? Voldemort did not really think that Severus would be that foolish, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, resorting to the Prophecy Potion might make him seem desperate, and the Dark Lord knew better than to appear weak before his followers.

So Voldemort locked himself up in his private chambers, telling his cringing servant Wormtail that he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, and began brewing the potion. He very carefully measured out the proper amounts of hellebore, belladonna, and henbane into boiling water; all three herbs were poisonous, and could prove fatal if the dosage was off by even a fraction of an ounce. Not that Voldemort could truly die, but losing this body, as fragile and unsatisfactory as it was, would be a major inconvenience. Once the potion was properly brewed, steeped, and strained off, he poured it into a goblet and drank the bitter, foul-smelling mixture.

The room seemed to be spinning around him, and the goblet fell to the floor with a loud clatter. The Dark Lord joined the goblet a moment later, writhing in violent convulsions and foaming at the mouth. The last rational thought he had before the effects of the potion overwhelmed him was, {Perhaps I should have let Severus brew it, after all...}

In his thrashings, Voldemort knocked over some of the furnishings in his room, although he was not aware of it at the time. Outside the door, Wormtail trembled as he listened to the sound of loud crashes and his Master howling in pain or anger. He wondered if the Dark Lord was working some sort of magic that had gone horribly wrong. But the Master had said not to disturb him "under any circumstances," and Wormtail was not foolish enough to disobey and risk his wrath. He quietly crept away, looking for a dark corner to hide in, thinking that it would probably be prudent not to be around when the Dark Lord finally emerged from his chambers...

Meanwhile, Voldemort was lost in a series of visions that blurred and slipped away before he could grasp hold of them: Professor Dumbledore, as he had been over fifty years ago, regarding a young Tom Riddle with suspicion; James Potter raising his wand defiantly; Lily Potter, clutching her baby to her chest, pleading with him for mercy; Evan Rosier embracing his Ravenclaw lover; a beautiful young woman with red hair, who looked much like Lily Potter...

"No!" snarled Voldemort. "This is the past! I want to see the future--show me how I can defeat Potter!"

Everything went red and hazy, and he realized he was seeing through a filter of blood; it was everywhere, soaking his robes, dripping from his hands, spilling over his face and into his eyes. He wiped at his eyes impatiently, although he knew this was a vision and not reality; he looked out upon a battlefield strewn with the corpses of both allies and enemies, but he did not see the one body he wished to see...

"Potter!" he shouted. "Show me how to defeat Potter!"

Another series of visions, more chaotic than the last: a flock of crows; a pack of snarling wolves; tangled vines bearing sharp thorns and red roses; a serpent entwined around the body of a lion, who seemed to be trying to claw at the serpent...

"Yes!" hissed Voldemort. "Show me more!"

The vision blurred and coalesced into a single, clear image: a newborn baby girl with dark hair. The baby slowly opened her eyes--eyes that were solemn and wise, not the eyes of a mewling infant, eyes that were an odd but familiar shade of silver-gray...

He knew somehow that this child was vital to winning or losing the war, and strained to see more, but even as he tried to cling to consciousness, the vision slipped away and everything went black...

Voldemort awoke several hours later on the floor of his chambers, stiff and sore, and weak as a day old kitten, with a vile taste in his mouth, but inside he was filled with a sense of triumph. He crawled over to a wooden chest at the foot of his bed, which being made of heavy, sturdy oak, had fortunately not been knocked over during his seizure. He opened it and pulled several bottles from it with trembling hands, and downed in quick succession a bottle of Elixir of Vitality, two bottles of Strengthening Solution, and a flask of unicorn blood. Ironically, even as the Strengthening Solution replenished his energy, it served to weaken his body in the long run, but Voldemort didn't care. All he had to do was survive long enough to defeat Harry Potter, and then all the power in the world would be his.

Restored to something approaching normal strength, Voldemort pondered the vision. The child was a Donner, no doubt about it; those silver-gray eyes were unmistakable. But whose child? He considered the possibilities logically; blonde hair and gray eyes ran in the Donner family; the child had gray eyes but black hair--like Dylan. But it was unlikely, though not impossible, that Dylan could have fathered a child at Hogwarts. Unless this was a vision of the far future, after Dylan had married or taken a lover? No, Voldemort sensed that the vision he had seen would come to pass very soon. The baby was not Dylan's, then. No woman would touch Gilbert, since he was still believed to be a half-wit, and Voldemort knew that Gwydion had no lover at present; he kept close tabs on his reluctant servants, particularly since Gwydion had started getting friendly with that Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ariane had remained faithful to the memory of her long-dead lover, and in any case was kept locked up on her uncle's estate where she was unlikely to meet many suitors. Which left only the two elder members of the Donner clan: Deirdre and Mathias. Deirdre had been widowed for many years, so it was unlikely that the baby in the vision was hers, but Mathias had a young and comely wife...a wife with black hair.

A sense of exultation filled the Dark Lord: that was it! The child was the daughter of Mathias and Goewin, and now he thought he knew why it was so vital to the war: Goewin had once had the Sight, and such powers also ran in the Donner line, so it was likely that the Gift of Sight would be twice as powerful in the daughter, the combined heritage of both parents. With such a strong seer, he could predict any move Dumbledore would make, could discover how to defeat Potter without resorting to the dangerous Prophecy Potion.

He flung open the door of his room and shouted for Wormtail. It was time to summon his Death Eaters, two in particular--Gilbert and Gwydion Donner. But there were two that he would not summon: Severus and Dylan. Of course, Dylan could much more easily find out if Goewin was pregnant, and if necessary, lure her into a trap, than his uncles could, but Dylan might balk at such a task. Dylan was a flawed vessel, one like his father, weakened by love. He loved his mother, and he appeared to love his great-aunt; he might be stupid enough to rebel if Voldemort tried to harm one of his loved ones. Of course, he could kidnap Ariane again, and use her to force Dylan to do his bidding; that would be amusing, to force Dylan to choose between two people he loved--but Voldemort preferred to keep Dylan blindly loyal and obedient for now, especially since he still needed the boy to control the roses. No, he would let the Donner brothers try their hand at it first, and keep the boy in reserve. And since Severus could not be trusted where Dylan was concerned, he too must be kept in the dark for now.

When Gwydion and Gilbert were standing before him, Voldemort asked, "Have you been in contact with your uncle of late?"

"No," Gwydion said sullenly, "he forbade me to step foot on his estate the summer before last, after we quarreled about Dylan. He chose that bastard brat over his own flesh and blood--"

"I don't care about your little family squabbles, Gwydion," Voldemort interrupted in a dangerous voice, and Gwydion fell silent. "I want you to find out--without drawing undue attention to yourself--if your aunt is pregnant."

"WHAT?!" screeched Gwydion.

"I have used my magic to seek visions of the future," Voldemort said calmly, not revealing the toll those visions had taken on his body, "and I believe that your aunt will give birth to a child with the Sight, one that could help sway the outcome of the war in our favor."

"B-but Uncle Math is OLD," Gilbert blurted out without thinking.

Voldemort gave him a patronizing look. "Dear me, I must have a talk with Severus," he said. "It seems that the potion is not working properly, because you still seem to be a half-wit." Gilbert flushed. "Age means little to our kind, Gilbert; you should know that. After all, Dumbledore is more than twice as old as your uncle, and he's still quite spry."

"Yes, but Dumbledore isn't running around fathering babies," Gwydion said caustically.

"Yes, well, Dumbledore doesn't have a pretty young thing to warm his bed like your uncle does," Voldemort retorted. "At any rate, I want you to find out if she really is pregnant or not. Make a show of reconciliation with your uncle if you must." Gwydion scowled, though he did not dare openly object, and Voldemort added, "It is to your benefit to discover the truth, because the child in my vision was a girl, and you know what that means." Gwydion went pale, and Voldemort smiled in a rather nasty way. "By the laws of inheritance, that child would become the heir instead of you, since the Donner title is passed through the female line. Your mother was able to disinherit Ariane because she associated with the Death Eaters even if she was not actually convicted of being one herself. But she has no such power over Mathias, who is a well-respected member of society, and I think he would fight her in court if she tried to rob his daughter of her birthright. Especially since it means he could still leave his own estate to his dear great-nephew, Dylan..."

Gwydion was now red and fuming with anger. "And if my aunt is pregnant, what do you intend to do with her and the child?"

Voldemort smiled. "Be assured, that no matter what I decide, the child will be no longer be a threat to you."

Gwydion smiled grimly and bowed. "I will eagerly do your bidding, then, Master."
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But that was easier said than done. His mother still wanted nothing to do with her brother, and he could not enlist her help without making her suspicious. He took the risk of sending a conciliatory letter to his uncle, not quite apologizing (because that would be out of character), but saying that he wished to let bygones be bygones. He suggested that they get together for dinner; Math neatly sidestepped his efforts to visit the estate by offering to treat him to dinner at a restaurant in London. They made polite small talk; Math complimented Gwydion on gaining his position at the Ministry, and Gwydion casually asked how Goewin was doing.

"She's fine," Math said with a smile.

"She did not wish to accompany you tonight, Uncle?"

"You and she are not the best of friends, Gwydion," Math said with a gentle smile. "I think she felt dinner would go more smoothly if she were not here."

Gwydion was annoyed, but it was a plausible enough excuse; surely Math didn't suspect anything...did he? Pressing the issue would certainly raise suspicions even if there had been none before, so all he said was, "Well, that is true enough, Uncle. But I do not wish to be at odds with you even though I do not approve of her choice of heir. We are family, after all."

"It gladdens my heart to hear you say that, Nephew. I hope someday you can view Dylan as family, too; it is not his fault that his parents made foolish choices in their youth."

Gwydion gritted his teeth, thinking, {If only you knew that your precious great-nephew is a Death Eater like his parents!}

"But I do not wish to fight with you tonight," Math continued. "So let us agree to disagree for now."

"Agreed," Gwydion said, attempting to smile pleasantly. {Well, that was a complete waste of time.} He was sure that with time he could win Math's trust, but that could take weeks, and he didn't think that the Dark Lord was willing to wait that long.

So he began making subtle inquiries, which was easy enough since the people in his mother's social circle loved to gossip about their peers. They were doubly eager to gossip about a family feud--as long as Deirdre was not around to hear it. And they thought it was touching that Gwydion was still concerned about his uncle despite the rift between his mother and her brother. He also made contact with some old acquaintances in Wales; he had spent a great deal of time there as a boy, before the falling out with his uncle over Goewin's rape, and he still had friends who lived there.

Slowly he pieced together the scraps of information he received from his various sources: no one had seen Goewin in public since November, during the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match at Hogwarts. Mathias and his wife tended to keep to themselves, but did venture into the local village or into London on errands from time to time, but no one had seen Goewin in months, which was rather odd. The concerned villagers inquired after Goewin when Math came into town, but he merely smiled and said that she was busy with some research, or that she was feeling a bit under the weather but that it was nothing serious. Finally, Gwydion found the confirmation he was looking for. Math had brewed some healing potions for the local clinic when one of the village children fell seriously ill--the sort of generosity that had made him very well-liked among the villagers--and the child's mother had gone up to the mansion with a home-baked pie as a thank-you gift. Math accepted the gift with appreciation, but did not invite her in for a cup of tea as he normally would have done. As the woman was leaving, she happened to glance up and catch a glimpse of a woman--merely a silhouette outlined behind the curtains as the sunlight fell through the window. The silhouette showed a very rounded figure, and gossip spread very slowly and quietly through the village, that Master Donner's wife might be with child. No doubt they were very anxious about the pregnancy, since twenty years had passed with no sign of a child up until now. Perhaps the pregnancy was a difficult one, if Goewin needed to be confined to the mansion for bed rest for so long; they probably didn't want to make the news public until they were sure that she would be able to carry the child to term. The villagers were fond of the Donners, so they kept their silence and waited anxiously for the announcement of a birth. But one young man, who had been Gwydion's playmate as a child, saw no harm in passing on the rumor to Math's nephew. The feud between Mathias Donner and his sister was a sad thing, after all, and the birth of a child might be just the catalyst needed to set a family reunion into motion.

Gwydion triumphantly reported the news to his Master, who seemed very pleased. "Good work, Gwydion," Voldemort said. "If she was pregnant in November, when she was last seen in public, she must be coming due soon--probably within the next month or two. We should capture her now."

"Now?" asked a startled Gwydion. "Why not wait till the baby's born?"

"Math will only set up stronger protections around the child once it is born, if he suspects its importance, and he must, if he has kept his wife's pregnancy a secret all this time," Voldemort answered impatiently. "Besides, I don't want Dumbledore's side having access to the child's Sight; it's possible that Goewin could be having visions even now." Gwydion looked startled, and Voldemort smiled grimly. "Ah, you didn't know that, did you? It is very rare, but not unheard of. Since Goewin had the Sight herself once it makes her more receptive to the baby's visions, so long as the child is connected to her in the womb. Something must have alerted old Math to the significance of this child, after all."

"Can a child in the womb have visions?" a stunned Gwydion asked.

"If the Gift is strong enough," the Dark Lord replied. "Perhaps the child might even See that you are a traitor to your family, Gwydion. So you see how important it is that we not let that power fall into the enemy's hands."

"Yes, my Lord," Gwydion said in a shaky voice.

"As a family member, you can get closest to them without arousing suspicion. I want you to lead the kidnapping mission."

"But my uncle doesn't fully trust me," Gwydion protested. "And I've done some reconnaissance work; his estate is more heavily warded than ever! I don't think I can break through the wards alone--"

"You may take as many Death Eaters as you need," Voldemort snapped. "But you will find a way to do it, do you understand me, Gwydion? For a clever boy like you, that should not be a problem."

"Yes, Master," Gwydion said, dropping to his knees, knowing it would be suicidal to argue further. "Please give me a little time to come up with a plan. I...I want to do this properly; it must be carefully thought out if it is to succeed."

"Very well," the Dark Lord said reluctantly. "You have a week, no more."

After they returned home, Gwydion told his brother, "We have to get Math away from the estate; that's our only chance."

"He's not going to fall for the same trick twice, Gwydion," Gilbert protested, recalling how his brother had lured Math away from the estate over twenty years ago with a false report of a Death Eater attack.

"No," Gwydion said with a frown. "And he's not likely to trust the likes of me...unless..." He thought for a moment. "One thing might lure him out--if Mother or Dylan were seriously ill or injured..."

"Dylan is a Death Eater," Gilbert said nervously. "The Dark Lord will never let us harm him. Besides, how would we get into Hogwarts?"

"Then it must be Mother," Gwydion said slowly.

"Gwydion!" Gilbert cried in horror. "You're not seriously thinking of harming Mother?!"

"The Dark Lord will kill us if we don't do this, Gil," Gwydion said grimly. "And Mother would kill us if she found out we've joined the Death Eaters. Besides, it's not like we're going to kill her...we'll make sure that she's badly injured, but survives. Yes, I think that is the only way...the feud will even work in our favor; Math will rush to his sister's bedside. He won't want her to die with bad blood still lying between them. We might even be able to get our dear little sister to leave the house, too, and then Goewin would be all alone and unprotected."

"Gwydion," Gilbert whispered, with horror in his eyes.

"This is the only way, little brother," Gwydion said solemnly. "Trust me." Gilbert stared back at him helplessly; he knew in his heart that they were doing a very evil thing, but what else could they do...?
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The Death Eaters began making small hit-and-run attacks--all part of Gwydion's plot to make his mother's "accident" more plausible. A clinic that distributed Wolfsbane Potion was burned down; a Muggle-born wizard's shop was broken into and trashed; a wizard who had taken a Muggle-born wife was murdered on his way home from work. Graffiti written in blood-red paint began appearing around town: "DEATH TO BLOOD TRAITORS" and "STAND WITH US OR AGAINST US--ALL TRAITORS WILL DIE". Finally, an attack was made on a small coffee shop popular with the wealthiest pureblood women, one Deirdre Donner frequented regularly...

A house-elf ran into the living room shouting, "Master Donner! Master Donner, the mirror in your study is blinking!"

The mirror in Math's study was not the one he used to communicate with the Order, but rather his normal method of communicating with friends, colleagues, and--before they had become estranged--family. The old wizard was surprised, but not overly concerned until he activated the mirror and saw his nephew's face. "Gwydion! What's wrong?"

Gwydion's face was streaked with tears and his eyes were red. "It's Mother," he gasped. "She's badly hurt--a Death Eater attack. The doctors...they...they don't think she's going to make it. She's asking for you and Ariane..."

"If this is some kind of trick, Gwydion--" Math said suspiciously.

"My mother's dying!" Gwydion shouted, and his anger and grief seemed to be genuine. "Call St. Mungo's if you like; I don't have time to play games with you! I just called to relay my mother's dying wish; you may do as you please!" Then he broke off contact and the mirror went blank.

Math wasted no time contacting St. Mungo's; a frazzled-looking receptionist confirmed that there had been some kind of attack, and there were several badly injured patients, including Deirdre Donner, registered at the hospital. When she realized who she was talking to, a slightly more sympathetic expression crossed her face. "I think you should hurry, Mr. Donner," she said softly. "The doctors are doing everything they can but, well..."

Math broke off contact and looked up to see his wife and niece standing behind him. "I checked the Wizard Wireless Network, Uncle," Ariane said quietly. "There really was an attack on that coffee shop Mother goes to every afternoon..."

"You must go, Math," Goewin urged. "You can't let Deirdre die without making peace with her!"

"This could still be a trick," Math protested, looking torn.

"Gwydion would never do anything to hurt Mother," Ariane said, but she didn't look quite convinced of that.

"He might not have anything to do with the attack himself, but we can't take the chance that the Dark Lord might manipulating both him and us--"

"Go, Math!" Goewin urged. "I'll call the Order and have them send someone to stay with me."

"I'll go see Deirdre as soon as our backup arrives," Math said.

"I'll stay with Goewin until they come," Ariane promised. "And then I'll go see Mother, too."

Math hesitated. "Well..."

"Go!" Goewin said. "Before it's too late! Ariane is a formidable mage; we'll be fine, and someone from the Order will be here shortly."

"All right," Math reluctantly agreed. "But call them right away!"

"Yes, dear," Goewin said.

"Please...if I don't come in time...tell Mother I love her," Ariane whispered.

"I will, dear," Math said gently, and Disapparated.

Goewin used her mirror to contact Dumbledore, who looked concerned and promised to send help right away. "You should not have let Math leave," he scolded.

"His sister is dying, Albus!" Goewin said indignantly.

"It would not help anything if harm befell you as well, Goewin," Dumbledore said firmly. "I'll send Branwen and Remus over shortly; they should just be finishing up with their classes."

But in the time it took to call Dumbledore, and for him to summon the two Order members to his office, the Death Eaters struck.

Gwydion had brought Gilbert and several other Death Eaters with him: Malfoy, Avery, Nott, and the Lestranges. They battered the wards with the strongest Dark Spells they possessed, having no need for subtlety; this was to be a quick snatch-and-run operation, and it didn't matter if they set off alarms or attracted attention. Goewin had just cut off contact with Dumbledore when the Death Eaters burst into the house, shattering the windows and blowing the front door off its hinges.

Ariane cursed and pulled out her wand, quickly throwing up shield spells and wards of protection around herself and Goewin.

"Hello, Sister," Gwydion said with a smile.

"You traitor!" Ariane screamed.

"Look who's talking," Lucius Malfoy said coolly. "You are supposed to be on our side, Ariane."

Ariane ignored him. "You!" she snarled at Gwydion. "After the way you turned on me, you went and sold your soul to the Death Eaters! You killed our mother to help them take Goewin!"

Gwydion went a little pale. "They weren't supposed to hurt her so badly," he said defensively. "I told them to be careful..."

"Enough with the family reunion," Bellatrix interrupted. "Hand over Goewin, Ariane, and we'll spare your life."

"No!"

"If you won't do it for your own sake," Lucius said smoothly, "do it for Dylan's."

Ariane went pale, but held her ground. "Dylan is safe at Hogwarts."

"I can get to him at any time," Lucius taunted.

"If you touch my son, I'll kill you!"

"You'll have to survive first!" Lucius retorted, and the Death Eaters began attacking her shields. She was a good mage, and Goewin helped to reinforce the shielding spells, but the two of them could not hold out against the strength of eight combined wizards. The shields fell, and Ariane went on the offensive, while Goewin, who was not trained in combative magics, did her best to protect herself.

"Crucio!" Ariane shouted, and Avery fell to the floor, writhing and screaming.

"I see you remember your lessons!" Lucius shouted, hurling a curse of his own at her. "What made you switch sides, Ariane?" She lunged to one side, but it grazed her, opening a bloody gash on her arm and staining her white robes red. She didn't flinch, but immediately shot back another spell at him. A dagger-shaped beam of red light hit him in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He clutched at the wound, screaming in pain. "You bitch!"

Then Ariane was hit simultaneously by two spells cast by Gwydion and Rodolphus Lestrange, and fell to the floor, unconscious. "Let's finish her off," Bellatrix said with a grin.

"NO!" shouted Gilbert, and the other mages turned to stare at him.

"A Death Eater cannot be soft, Gilbert," Lucius said quietly.

"I--I don't care about Ariane!" Gilbert said, thinking quickly. As low as he had sunk, he could not stoop to killing his little sister. "Leave her here to take the blame--she was once a Death Eater, maybe Math will think she was behind the attack!"

"Good thinking, little brother!" Gwydion said, clapping him on the shoulder, and Gilbert felt sick to his stomach.

By now, Nott and Rabastan Lestrange had managed to disarm and bind Goewin. They prepared to depart as Branwen and Lupin rushed into the room. Lucius went pale when he saw his old Professor; he had no desire to take on the woman who had slain three Death Eaters single-handedly, and abruptly Disapparated. The other wizards followed suit as the two Order members hurled spells at them; they heard a cry of pain, indicating they had hit someone, but it was too late. The Death Eaters all vanished, along with Goewin.

Math appeared a moment later. Overwhelmed by the sight of his sister lying in a hospital bed near death, it had taken him a few minutes to realize that his nephew, who had expressed such concern about his dying mother, was nowhere in sight. He surveyed the wreckage of the room, the unconscious body of his niece, and the stricken faces of his two fellow Order members. "Oh no," he whispered.
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The Death Eaters took Goewin to Voldemort's hideout. They did not harm her, but locked a Squib Collar around her neck so she could not use her magic. But then Voldemort ordered them to take it off after he realized it was interfering with the visions. It did not make much difference; she was helpless without her wand, which had been left behind at the mansion, and she had no talent for the combative magics, anyway.

"My husband will find me," she said defiantly, trying to show none of the fear she felt.

"Perhaps," Voldemort said, unconcerned. "But not in time. The child has been sending you dreams, has she not?" Goewin tried not to react, but she must have flinched, because he smiled and nodded. "Yes, I thought so. You will prophesy for me, dear, and tell me how I can win the war."

"Never!"

Voldemort laughed. "Ah, such spirit! Quite admirable, but you will have no choice, my dear."

She was taken to a small room and tied to the bed within it. Goewin could not prevent a flash of fear from showing in her eyes, and Voldemort laughed again. "Do not worry, my dear. None of my Death Eaters will lay a hand upon you, on my orders. I want you alive and well for now." Then he set up a brazier in the middle of the room, burning rare herbs and incense, and she knew what he intended to do.

"No drugs," she pleaded, forgetting her pride and defiance. "They might hurt the baby...please..."

"Ah, love is such a weakness," Voldemort observed, sounding amused. "It makes a proud woman beg, makes a protective husband leave his wife's side...it makes fools of you, my dear. But do not worry; the herbs would be dangerous if ingested, but the smoke should not harm the baby, which is why I am burning them rather than forcing you to take a potion. I would not want you to have a miscarriage, after all. At least, not until I find out what I need to know."

Goewin fought to remain awake and alert, but drug-laden smoke soon put her into trance. She forgot who and where she was, and became lost in the visions...

Voldemort forced himself to wait patiently; this process could not be rushed. That was why he had not bothered to use his Legilimency on her; attacking her mind might destroy it, and her mind needed to be intact in order to receive the visions. Besides, she had not left her husband's estate for over six months, and Dumbledore would not use a pregnant woman as an agent in the war, particularly one with no skill in combative magic; she probably knew little that was useful apart from the visions, anyway.

"Blood...blood everywhere..." Goewin muttered deliriously. "Dylan...ah, no, please don't let him die..."

She rambled incoherently, mostly about blood and battles and snakes and skulls; nothing the Dark Lord didn't already know. He still needed to keep her and the unborn child healthy, so at regular intervals he let her rest and eat before putting her into trance again. She was too weak to fight him, and besides, he knew she wanted to keep her baby healthy. If she had not been pregnant, no doubt she would have fought, would perhaps have refused food in an effort to starve herself to death, but he knew that she would eat and cling to life for the child's sake, still hoping that a miracle would happen and someone would rescue her.

Finally, a few days after her capture, she said something that caught Voldemort's attention. "The lion and the serpent," she whispered. "Locked in an embrace...locked in combat...bound in love and bound in death..."

The lion and the serpent; that had to stand for himself and Harry Potter! "Tell me more," Voldemort hissed.

Goewin could not hear him in her trance, but she continued to speak of the visions she saw. "I see a lake...and a forest...it's the school...Hogwarts...Hogwarts is the key..."

"What?!" Voldemort shouted.

Goewin babbled on, paying him no heed, "Hogwarts is the keystone of the wizarding world; remove it and everything else will fall. The final battle will take place on the school grounds..."

"Yes!" Voldemort hissed triumphantly. This was what he wanted to hear!

"I see the children on the battlefield," Goewin whispered. "Dylan...Draco...the other Slytherin children...Harry Potter..."

Gwydion watched nervously from the doorway. Since he and his brother had been spotted by Blackmore and Lupin, their cover was now blown, and he was staying in the Dark Lord's hideout along with Wormtail and some of the other fugitives. He now had no choice but to fully commit to his Master's cause, if he ever wanted to be something other than an outcast and a criminal. "But Hogwarts is protected," he said.

Voldemort glared at the interruption, but then Goewin spoke, as if in response to Gwydion's comment. "The blood of an innocent will break the protections spun over Hogwarts..." Then her eyes went wide with terror and she began screaming.

Voldemort carelessly flicked his wand at her, casting a sleep spell, and the screaming ceased. "That's it!" he said. "We will make a blood sacrifice upon the school grounds, breaking the protections, breaking the seat of Dumbledore's power!"

"But how will we get into the school?" Gwydion wanted to know.

"Don't worry," Voldemort said with a satisfied smile. "I have a plan..."

"Who will we sacrifice?" Gilbert asked in a trembling voice.

"She said, 'the blood of an innocent,'" Voldemort mused, looking at Goewin. "And what could be more innocent than a baby? And if that is not sufficient, we will have a whole school filled with innocent children. Well, relatively innocent, anyway...I'm not sure that we can call Dylan and his friends 'innocent,' exactly..." The Dark Lord cackled and went off to set his plans in motion.

"Gwydion," Gilbert whispered urgently. "Kidnapping her was one thing--but to let him kill her? And her baby?"

"That baby would take our inheritance!" Gwydion whispered back fiercely. "And besides, it's her or us! What do you care, anyway--she's the reason we were turned into beasts! She's the reason you lost your mind--and don't forget that you would still be a half-wit if not for me!" Gilbert watched his brother stalk off, and wished that Gwydion had left him a half-wit. His brother was now a Death Eater in spirit as well as name, and Gilbert could see no way out of this mess of their own making.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Order kept Goewin's kidnapping quiet; they didn't want to alarm the public--which was already in a panic over the attack that had wounded Deirdre and killed several people--but most of all, they didn't want Dylan to know what had happened. Snape didn't think that the boy would be able to keep up his loyal facade in front of the Death Eaters if he knew the truth.

"We'll have to tell him eventually," Lupin pointed out.

"Not yet," Snape insisted, and Ariane agreed. "The Dark Lord clearly wants to keep this a secret from him, or he would have used Dylan instead of Gwydion to get to Goewin. He still needs Dylan's willing cooperation to make use of the roses."

"Maybe we can get Goewin back before it becomes necessary to tell him," Ariane said hopefully, though they all knew that wasn't very likely.

Keeping it a secret meant that they could not yet expose Gwydion's treachery, but apparently he wasn't taking any chances. He disappeared without word, alarming his supervisors and coworkers at the Ministry. Gilbert had vanished as well; although apart from the Order, only Deirdre's house-elf servants were aware of it at present. They were very worried about "young Master Gilbert, who is not quite right in the head, you know". Math assured them that they were doing everything they could to find the brothers, and ordered them to keep quiet about it. And, lacking instructions from any other member of the family, they readily obeyed.

But Dumbledore decided that there was one person who needed to be told. Against all odds, Deirdre Donner lived, making a miraculous recovery--thanks in part to the skill of the healers at St. Mungo's, a sizable portion of good luck, and her own stubborn, tenacious nature which would not allow death to take her so easily. She left her bed as soon as she was able, about a week after the attack, against the doctors' orders, and demanded to know where her sons were. On Dumbledore's instructions, Math brought her to Hogwarts.

"Mother!" Ariane said. "Thank Merlin you're all right!"

Deirdre slapped away her daughter's outstretched hands, ignoring the hurt look on Ariane's face and the reproachful glare Branwen Blackmore gave her.

"Where are my sons?" Deirdre demanded of Dumbledore, who sat at his desk in his office, calmly gazing back at her.

"Your sons are traitors, Deirdre," Dumbledore said. "They have joined the Death Eaters."

"That's ridiculous!" Deirdre snapped. "If anyone is a Death Eater, it's Ariane!"

"Ariane made some terrible errors of judgment in the past, Sister," Math said, "but she has repented of her crimes. She has risked her life to help us fight Voldemort."

"You're a sentimental old fool if you believe that, Math!" Deirdre said. "And what about my sons? What possible motive could they have for joining the Death Eaters? Gilbert isn't even able to think for himself, anyway!"

"That is precisely the motive," Dumbledore said. Lupin stepped forward and placed a casket full of potion bottles on the Headmaster's desk, along with two hooded black robes. "We found these in Gwydion's rooms: Death Eater robes and Mind Restoration Potion. Gwydion joined the Death Eaters because Voldemort promised him a potion that would restore his brother's sanity. Though I fear Gilbert still isn't thinking for himself, and is mostly following his brother's lead, as he has done all his life."

"No," Deirdre whispered, staring at the bottles and robes in horror. "No, it's not true!" she said desperately. "Someone planted those things there to try and frame them!"

In a cold, implacable voice, Math said, "They arranged the attack on you, Deirdre, to lure me away from my home so they could kidnap my wife!"

"No!"

"I saw them, Mother," Ariane said, gazing at Deirdre, surprised to feel more pity than triumph. "They came accompanied by several Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy among them, and overpowered me and took Goewin."

"Why would they want Goewin?" Deirdre screamed hysterically. "And why should I believe you?!"

"You may believe us, Deirdre," Branwen said quietly. "Remus and I came to their aid, and witnessed the attack."

"You're the daughter of a Dark Wizard!" Deirdre protested, but they could see belief dawning in her eyes.

"As to why," Lupin said, "Goewin is pregnant, and her daughter has the Sight." That statement finally rendered Deirdre speechless. "One of our seers foresaw that the child would be vital to the war efforts, and apparently Voldemort somehow became aware of that as well. That is why he used your sons to kidnap her."

Deirdre slowly sank to her knees on the floor, buried her face in her hands, and began to weep. Math knelt down beside her and put his arms around her. "How?" she sobbed. "How could he do such a thing, Math?"

"Gwydion did it for love of his brother," Math replied sadly. "He always loved Gilbert too much."

"It started out as a gesture of love for his brother," Branwen said, looking down at Deirdre with neither compassion nor contempt. "But Gwydion also loves power, and I fear Voldemort has used both loves to corrupt him beyond redemption. Gwydion was his spy in the Ministry, you know. He used his position to help break the Death Eaters out of Azkaban."

"And you didn't tell me?!" Deirdre shouted at her brother.

"Would you have believed me?" he asked softly.

"No," she replied, hanging her head. "I can scarcely believe it now." Then she looked up, and her eyes, though red from weeping, were cold and hard. "But they are my sons no longer, and they will pay for their crimes."

"You still have a daughter," Branwen reminded her.

Deirdre glared at her again, and gazed at her daughter suspiciously. "How can you be sure she is trustworthy?"

"She has willingly sworn her loyalty under Geas," Math replied. "The spell will destroy her if she tries to break her vows."

Deirdre stared at her daughter in shock and began laughing mirthlessly. "And in a moment, my world is turned topsy-turvy! My sons are Death Eaters, and my disowned daughter is working against her former Master!"

"She was never truly a Death Eater, Lady Deirdre," Lupin said gently.

"No, but I came close enough to it," Ariane admitted.

"What made you change your mind?" her mother asked.

"I did not want my son to die in the Dark Lord's service as his father did," Ariane replied quietly.

"Hmmph!" Deirdre snorted. "Well, you're mistaken if you think I'll ever accept that Slytherin brat into the family!"

"Deirdre!" Math shouted indignantly, but Ariane just shrugged indifferently.

Deirdre ignored them both. "Well, I will help you in any way I can, to make up for my sons' crimes," she told Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Deirdre," the Headmaster said solemnly. "You can start by keeping this information secret for now; there is still a chance the boys may return to you so long as they believe you do not know the truth."

"If they do so, you may be sure I will turn them in," she said grimly.

"For now," Dumbledore continued, "I think you can serve us best by getting some rest; you look like you're about to collapse. Math, why don't you take her to the hospital wing? She's clearly not up to traveling; she can rest here tonight."

With only a token protest, Deirdre followed her brother through the fireplace and into the hospital wing.

"I'm sorry, Ariane," Branwen said. "I hoped she would react differently when she found out the truth..."

Ariane shrugged again. "She's spent the past fifteen years hating me; she's not going to change overnight. She'll probably never forgive me; it's not just that I allied with the Death Eaters, but that I took a Slytherin as a lover and bore his child. Besides, it scares me to see her all weepy; when she's in her overbearing Lady Donner mode, at least I know she's feeling all right."

Lupin chuckled gently, and Branwen smiled and let the matter drop, although they both knew that Ariane had been hurt by her mother's rejection, and resumed their discussion with the Headmaster. It was vital that they find some way to rescue Goewin, not just for her sake, but to prevent Voldemort from winning the war. Math returned, along with Snape, and they continued their discussion long into the night...
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

"You want me to WHAT?!" Gwydion shrieked. "I'm a fugitive! I can't just waltz into the Ministry of Magic!"

"Actually, Gwydion, you're not," Lucius interrupted. "My sources tell me that the kidnapping was not made public, and no charges have been filed against you. Your coworkers believe you are the victim of foul play."

"How can that be?" a stunned Gwydion asked. "Why didn't they expose me?"

"Dumbledore must have his reasons," Lucius said with a shrug, "but it works to our advantage."

"Maybe it's a trap," Gwydion said suspiciously. "Maybe they'll arrest me as soon as I walk through the door."

"Then you will have to convince them that you are innocent," Voldemort said. "Tell them you were kidnapped by the Death Eaters and put under an Imperius Curse. Many of my Death Eaters did so and got away with it after the first war."

Those Death Eaters looked very nervous at that reminder, and Gwydion protested, "But that makes it less likely that they'll believe it the second time around!"

"That is an order, not a suggestion, Gwydion!" Voldemort snarled.

Gwydion bowed and glumly said, "Yes, my Lord."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Percy Weasley was working late at the Ministry of Magic, filling out some paperwork for his supervisor, Cornelius Fudge. He was very proud to be assistant to the Minister of Magic himself, and didn't mind the long hours. After all, the Minister was working around the clock to deal with the Death Eater attacks; he would do whatever he could, however small, to ease the Minister's burdens.

Hal Wilson, a young assistant to one of the under-Ministers, dropped another stack of papers on Percy's desk. "I'm calling it a night, Percy. You're staying late again, huh?"

"It's my duty to stay as long as the Minister does, in case he needs me," Percy said primly.

Hal just grinned, unoffended; he was impossibly good-natured, and reminded Percy uncomfortably of his brothers. "Say, I picked up something cool at your brothers' shop today," he said.

"Please don't remind me what a disgrace the twins are to the family name," Percy groaned.

"They're successful businessmen," Hal chided him. "That's nothing to be ashamed of! Anyway, they have these new fireworks." He held out a small red cardboard tube, about the size of a cigarette. "You don't even have to light them, just flick the top off to set them off. Like this--"

"Don't do that in here, you imbecile!" Percy shouted.

"Just kidding, Weasley," Hal laughed, dropping the tube on Percy's desk. "Anyhow, it's my kid brother's birthday this weekend, and I figured he'd love these."

"I'm sure he will," Percy said sourly.

Just then, Fudge walked in, looking weary and anxious. "What's going on here?" he asked.

Percy hastily scooped up the fireworks tube and dropped it in his pocket. "Nothing, sir. Wilson was just dropping off these papers. He was just on his way out."

"Goodnight, sir," Hal said, nodding at Fudge in a respectful manner.

"Goodnight," Fudge said absentmindedly as Hal left. "We need to draft up these new orders, to be sent to the press and posted around the city. We've decided to put a curfew into effect until the Death Eaters are caught."

"Yes, sir!" Percy said, picking up his quill. "A splendid idea, sir!"

Fudge smiled and patted Percy on the shoulder. "Well then, let's get to work, Weasley."

Meanwhile, the security guard in the Atrium gasped as Arthur Weasley and Gwydion Donner staggered into the hall. Gwydion's clothes were rumpled and dirty, with streaks of what looked like dried blood smeared on them, and there were prominent bruises on his face. He leaned heavily on Arthur for support.

"Mr. Donner!" the guard gasped. "Are you all right? Where have you been all this time?"

"We have no time to talk now!" Arthur snapped. "We must see the Minister of Magic right away! Gwydion has vital information about the Death Eaters!" Gwydion groaned, and looked like he was going to collapse.

"He looks like he needs medical attention," the guard said dubiously.

"No time for that," Gwydion protested bravely. "I'll be all right. Must get...this information to the Minister...before it's too late..."

"Go on up, sirs," the guard said. "I'll let Mr. Fudge know you're on your way."

"Gwydion! Arthur!" Fudge exclaimed as they burst into his office. "What's going on?"

"Dad!" said Percy.

Arthur Weasley regarded him with a look of surprise, as if he didn't recognize his own son, then he smiled, in a sleek and smug way that Percy had never seen before. "Ah, young Percy," he purred in a tone of voice that was totally out of character, and yet somehow familiar. "I hadn't expected you to be here, but you could come in quite useful."

"Dad?" Percy asked in confusion.

"Munch called up and said you had information about the Death Eaters," Fudge said anxiously.

"Yes, I do," Gwydion replied.

"What happened? Did they kidnap you?"

"No, Cornelius," Gwydion replied, taking out his wand, as did Arthur. "I am one of them."

"What?!" Fudge shouted. "If this is some sort of joke, Donner--"

"It's no joke, Minister. Imperio!"

Percy lunged for the door, screaming for help, before his "father" also hit him with an Imperius Curse.

Only one Auror--not Kingsley Shacklebolt, who might have been more careful, because Lucius and Gwydion had been careful to choose a night when he was not on the duty roster--had still been in the building this late at night. Although the guard had no reason to doubt Gwydion's loyalty, he had still alerted the Auror, figuring that the Aurors would be needed to deal with whatever Death Eater threat Gwydion and Arthur were about to report. He heard Percy's cry for help, and walked in with his wand raised, but he was not quick enough to fend off the attack.

"Avada Kedavra!" Arthur shouted, and the man dropped to the floor like a stone.

Percy suddenly knew why his father's voice had sounded strange and yet familiar at the same time. "You're Lucius Malfoy," he whispered.

"And you're not as dumb as you look, Percy," Lucius said, smiling at him maliciously with his father's face. "I order you not to speak without my permission." And Percy found himself unable to speak further.

Meanwhile, Gwydion hid the Auror's body in the closet. No one would find it until it was too late.

Gwydion whispered his instructions into the Minister's ear, and they left the office.

"Mr. Fudge!" the guard exclaimed as they exited the elevator and emerged in the Atrium.

Fudge said stiffly, "Don't speak a word of this to anyone, Eric. Top-secret business. The safety of the wizarding world depends upon it."

"Yes, sir!" the guard said. "You can count on me, sir!"

Lucius laughed after they left the building, "How helpful that the Ministry seems to be staffed by idiots!" Then he grinned at Percy and said, "Come along now, son. We're paying a visit to your old alma mater."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

While Gwydion and Lucius were on their mission, the Dark Lord was making his own preparations. His magical research had finally paid off; first he quaffed a mixture made from human blood and the crushed petals of Dylan's roses. Next, he picked up a dagger that had been soaked in the same mixture while many powerful enchantments were laid upon it. The steel blade now had a metallic red sheen to it. He slipped into a sheath on his belt, which also held a second dagger, the one with the serpent-shaped hilt, which was not enchanted. Finally, he picked up a flask containing some of Dylan's blood and went to the room that held the vampiric roses. He opened the flask, took out his wand, and cast a spell that had taken him months to develop. The wand pulled the blood out of the flask, spinning it into a length of red thread, and then wove the thread into a confining net around around the potted rose bush. The roses quivered a little, then went still. Voldemort still had not found a way to command the roses, but at least now he could transport them--the "net" made of Dylan's blood would keep them quiescent--and once the net was removed he wouldn't really need to control them. Voldemort just had to make sure that he and his Death Eaters remained out of range, and the roses would happily attack anyone that ventured within reach of their vines.

He ordered Wormtail to carry the magically-bound roses, which he did with great reluctance, whimpering with fear the entire time. His other Death Eaters came at his call, carrying a bound and gagged Goewin, and they all Disapparated.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Back in Japan, Kamiyama and his allies had not been idle. They had been stockpiling healing salves and potions, and had begun sending them to Dumbledore at Hogwarts after the news of Goewin's kidnapping reached them. Although the Headmaster wanted to keep the incident from becoming public, he trusted his old colleague with the news, because he suspected it was a sign that open war would break out soon. The tengu warriors began preparing for battle, gathering in the mountains behind Kamiyama's temple, and Kamiyama sent some of his mages to England to help lay protective spells upon the residences of Order members, of Muggle-born wizards, and others who might be vulnerable to attack--even on some of the residences of the lesser Slytherin families who were not powerful enough to protect themselves, and who might be subject to vigilante justice. One of these families was the Zabinis, and it made them grateful to Dumbledore despite their long-held antipathy towards Gryffindor. They had already suffered minor vandalism to their home, although they had not told their son that, not wanting to worry him.

Kamiyama was mediating in the temple early one morning, when his granddaughter burst in on him, shouting, "Grandfather! I must go to Hogwarts now!"

"Miyako?" Kamiyama said, looking up in surprise.

"I had a vision," she gasped, her eyes still looking a little unfocused. "The Dark Lord will attack tonight, I have Seen it! The school, the students, the unborn baby...they are all in danger! I have to warn them!"

"You can't Apparate that far," Kamiyama said. "You must use the Portkey. But I don't want you going alone."

"There's no time--"

"I'll go with her, Father," Tsuneko said, entering the temple. "You can't think I'd let my daughter go off to a strange country alone."

"I'll go, too," said another voice.

"Mamoru!" Kamiyama exclaimed. "When did you get here?"

His youngest son smiled at him. "I just returned from England yesterday after helping to set protective wards around vulnerable locations. But it seems I must turn around and go right back."

"It would ease my heart greatly, if you would act as guardian to your niece," Kamiyama said with a smile. His son was a master of protective magics, which was highly appropriate, since his name meant "to protect".

"We have to go now!" Miyako shouted impatiently.

"Very well," Mamoru said, and they set off together down the path to the Portkey. Meanwhile, Kamiyama set off to alert the healers and the tengu warriors, who would be needed if a battle was imminent.

It was early morning in Japan, but it was late at night in England. Miyako and her mother and uncle emerged in the Sakura restaurant, startling the staff, who had closed the restaurant and were cleaning up and preparing to leave. Haruko, the hostess and owner of the restaurant, contacted Dumbledore and sent her surprise visitors to Hogwarts through the fireplace.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco Malfoy crept out of his dorm room, intent upon following his father's orders. First, he woke up Crabbe and Goyle, then headed to Nott's room. To his surprise, he found that the door had been sealed with a minor warding spell. No problem; it was easy to break--it was probably only intended to prevent casual intrusions, but Draco was curious about why Nott felt the need to ward his door. So he quietly broke the spell and opened the door, and laughed at what he saw.

"Merlin!" gasped Crabbe.

"Nott and Zabini?" Goyle said, his eyes wide with shock. Because Zabini's bed was empty, and both boys lay together on Nott's bed, limbs intertwined.

"Wake up, sleeping beauties," Draco crooned.

Nott woke with a start, lunging for the wand on his nightstand. Draco quickly pulled out his own wand, just in case. "Take it easy, Nott! It's me, Draco!"

"Draco?" Nott said. "What the hell are you doing here? What time is it?"

Zabini looked up blearily and said, "What's going on?"

"The time has come, Nott," Draco said in a dramatic voice.

"Time for what?" Nott asked, sounding annoyed and just a little frightened.

"Time for us to take our places beside our fathers," Draco said with satisfaction.

"Wh-what?" stammered Nott. "Tonight?!"

"Yes," Draco said, frowning. "Aren't you happy?"

"Of course!" Nott said quickly. "It's just--I didn't expect it to happen so soon--"

"I guess we'd better bring Zabini, too," Draco said, looking at Blaise, who was staring at him with fear in his eyes. "You did say you wanted to be one of us, after all."

"I did?" asked Zabini nervously. "I don't remember--"

"Of course you don't," Draco replied with a smirk. "Nott's dad took your memory away when you stumbled across our meeting on Halloween. But it doesn't matter whether you remember or not, Zabini; I'm holding you to your promise."

"He'll keep his promise," Nott snapped.

"Good. Hurry up, let's go."

"Give us a minute to get dressed first," Nott said, blushing. Both boys were obviously nude beneath the blankets.

Draco smirked again. "All right, but hurry up."

Draco shut the door and Blaise stared at Theodore in horror. "I knew something happened on Halloween!" he whispered.

"Hurry up and get dressed!" Theodore hissed, throwing a robe at Blaise.

"Theo, what are we going to do?" Blaise asked desperately.

"They'll kill us if we don't go with them," Theodore said, reaching for a scrap of paper and his quill.

"I think maybe the two of us can take on the three of them," Blaise said uncertainly.

"Maybe," Theodore said dubiously. "But the Death Eaters will come after us if we defy them. I'm sending a note to Snape; maybe he can help us." He folded the note into an origami crane and cast an enchantment on it. "It'll take off as soon as we leave the room."

Draco knocked on the door, calling impatiently, "Come on, Nott, get a move on!"

Blaise and Theodore emerged from their room and followed Draco down the hall. Draco never looked back, so he didn't notice a little white paper bird slip out through the door, which had been left open a crack, and flutter away.

They went to Dylan's room and woke him up, and since the disturbance woke up Damien as well, Draco said, "Well, I guess you're coming, too, Pierce." Damien went pale, but Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle all had their wands out, and he was unarmed, so he looked at Dylan, who looked back at him helplessly, and nodded in reluctant assent.

Dylan asked hesitantly, "Is Professor Snape going to be...wherever we're going?"

Draco shrugged. "My dad didn't say, but I'm sure he'll be there if our Master deems it necessary."

Dylan reluctantly followed Draco, wondering what he should do. He and his friends should be able to overpower Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle if they all worked together, but he wasn't sure if Theodore, Blaise, and Damien would be willing to do that. They looked frightened and cowed right now, and they were so used to following Draco's lead that Dylan wasn't sure he could convince them to act before Draco and his henchmen disarmed them. Besides, that would mean blowing his cover as a Death Eater, and he wasn't sure Snape would want him to do that. So he kept his silence and followed obediently for the moment.

Draco sent Theodore to fetch Serafina from the girls' dorm; apparently he had managed to do so without waking her roommate and creating a disturbance. Serafina joined their group, her face pale and unreadable, and Draco led them out of the castle.

"So where are we going, Draco?" Dylan asked.

"You'll see, Rosier," Draco said with a grin. "We haven't far to go."

Draco had not been particularly quiet, and many of other students had woken up, but they all pretended to be asleep, not wanting to get involved with what was surely Death Eater business. Except for one; Brad Doherty quietly crept out of his room and followed behind at a safe distance.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Miyako was informing Dumbledore and his companions of the vision she had seen, when a white paper bird slipped under the door of the Headmaster's office and fluttered over to Snape. Startled, he plucked it out of the air, unfolded it, read the note, and turned even paler than usual.

"Severus!" Lupin exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"It's from Theodore," Snape whispered. "Draco is rounding up the Death Eater offspring, to 'take their places beside their fathers'. He's taken Blaise Zabini as well."

"We've got to stop them!" Lupin said.

"If the Death Eaters are making an attack on Hogwarts, the children are probably supposed to meet them somewhere on the school grounds," Snape said grimly. "Besides, none of them are able to Apparate, so they can't go far, anyway."

"How can the Death Eaters get into the school?" Lupin asked.

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'll find a way," Snape said, still looking grim.

Math was already on his feet. "If they have Goewin and they intend to kill her, there's no time to waste!"

Dumbledore nodded. "The five of you start searching, but stay together and be careful. I'll alert the other teachers and the Order."

"I have to send a message to Lukas," Lupin said. "He promised to fight when the time came."

Suddenly Snape cried out in pain and clutched at his arm. Then he smiled mirthlessly. "Well, we shouldn't have any trouble finding them; the Mark should lead us straight to the Dark Lord."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

There were many protections upon Hogwarts, but the Minister of Magic could not be barred from the school, and the gates swung open for him. He walked through the gates, followed by a number of dark-robed figures.

They chose a spot on the school grounds near the Forbidden Forest. One of the Death Eaters used a spell to scorch a large area bare of grass, leaving behind smooth, packed earth. Other Death Eaters began drawing a circle on the ground using red paint, and within the circle, the runes and symbols required for a blood sacrifice. They laid Goewin, who was still bound, within the circle. Voldemort had them remove her gag; he found the screams of a victim pleasurable, and it was unlikely that anyone in the castle would be able to hear her screams and cries for help. Even if they did, by the time they got here it would be too late.

Just then, Draco and his band of mostly-reluctant followers came into view, and Voldemort grinned. Goewin had seen the children in her vision, so he had ordered Lucius to make sure that they attended the sacrifice. It was as a good a time as any to induct them into the Death Eaters, and if one sacrifice was not enough to desecrate the school grounds and break the protections upon Hogwarts, why then, he would have several more victims within easy reach. Besides, the blood sacrifice spell and the battle that was sure to follow would drain him of energy, and he would need to replenish his strength...though maybe he would take Wormtail instead of one of the children. He was really quite fed up with his minion's sniveling and whining...
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Lukas smiled with grim satisfaction as he slipped a small mirror into his pocket. "Word has come from Remus!" he announced to his pack. "It is time!"

They growled with mingled fear and eagerness, their eyes more feral than usual--except for Brian.

"This isn't our fight," he protested.

"It became our fight when they murdered one of our pack!" Lukas snarled.

"We can hide in the shadows living on handouts and charity like this for the rest of our lives," Kyra said. "Or we can show those cowardly Ministry dogs how wolves fight!"

"That's the spirit!" Lukas said clapping her on the shoulder. "But it is likely that many of us will die tonight. I won't take anyone who isn't willing. But you must make up your mind now."

Brian hesitated. He wanted to protest that he was a stockboy (and before that a businessman), not a warrior; he wanted to crawl away with his tail between his legs. But Kyra's words had shamed him; he was tired of hiding, tired of being ashamed of himself. And his family might have rejected him, but these werewolves had taken him in and looked after him, even when they were sick of his constant complaining and whining. They were his family now, Brian realized; they were pack. They would never abandon or betray him as his real family had. "I will come with you," he said.
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As the Slytherin children entered the clearing, they could see dim lights coming from wands held aloft. As they drew closer, Theodore could see a woman--a very pregnant woman--lying bound within a rune-filled circle and his blood ran cold. He realized that he had just made a very big mistake; Blaise was right, they should have tried to overpower Draco and Crabbe and Goyle back in the dorm. Instead, they had followed Draco like lambs to the slaughter, and now it was too late, because the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were standing before them and there was no possible way they could escape.

The other children did not recognize the woman within the circle at first, but Dylan did. "AUNT GOEWIN!" he screamed, reaching for his wand as he rushed forward. Strong arms grabbed him from behind and he struggled desperately with his captor.

"Stop it!" Lucius Malfoy hissed into his ear. "Behave like a proper Death Eater!"

"You never told me you were planning to sacrifice my aunt!" Dylan screamed.

"What did you think was going to happen to her, boy?" Lucius snarled. "She and your great-uncle are allies of Dumbledore, our Master's enemy! All those who stand against us must die! Besides, do you really think they would still love you once they found out your true loyalties?" He called out in a taunting voice, "Look, Goewin! Your beloved nephew is a Death Eater like his father!"

If he was expecting shock or horror, he was disappointed. She only looked over at Dylan sadly.

"Aunt Goewin!" Dylan shouted, still struggling to break free.

Goewin knew that the Death Eaters would kill him if he tried to help her, and there was no chance he could succeed in freeing her even if his friends joined him, which was not very likely. He had to remain alive; Severus and the Order could still rescue him even if it was too late for her. "No, Dylan," she said quietly. "Don't do it."

Stunned, Dylan stopped struggling, and Lucius laughed. "I was wrong! How touching; she does still love you! Listen to your aunt, Dylan, like a good little boy." Dylan glared at him, his silver-gray eyes filled with pure hatred. "Remember your place, boy!" Lucius snapped. "Remember that your mother will pay the price if you disobey your Lord!"

Voldemort had been watching with amusement, and he finally spoke. "If you try to interfere, Dylan, I will kill Ariane as well as Goewin."

As Dylan's face turned white, Lucius gestured to one of the other Death Eaters. Bellatrix Lestrange raised her wand; black ropes shot out of it, binding Damien, who let out a startled squawk. Then Bellatrix stepped forward and held a knife to his throat, and he froze in place. "Such a pretty boy," she crooned, stroking his hair. "Shall we open his throat and let his blood run red, to match his pretty red hair?"

"Your friend Pierce will suffer too, if you continue to defy us, Dylan," Lucius said.

"Pierce?" Narcissa Malfoy asked in a startled voice. She stepped forward, holding up a glowing wand, to take a closer look at Damien. "This is my friend Aileen's son!"

Damien knew that Narcissa had been friends with his mother at school, although they now saw each other only occasionally at parties or school functions. "Please," he whispered. "Please, Lady Narcissa..."

Narcissa opened her mouth, as if to command Bellatrix to let the boy go, but then she looked at her husband and at the Dark Lord, and fell silent.

"I will be quite cross with you if you force me to cause my dear wife distress," Lucius said in a light, joking tone, but Dylan could hear the threat behind those words.

Dylan's body went limp with resignation, and Lucius loosened his hold on the boy. "Enough," Dylan whispered. "I...I've come to my senses. I will not defy you." He had to play along for now; he would watch and wait, and maybe he would get a chance to help Goewin later...although he doubted it, after the scene he had just made. He didn't know if he could just stand back and watch them kill her, but on the other hand, neither could he let Damien and his mother be harmed. He wondered if Snape had ever been faced with such a choice, and if so, how he had managed to live with the guilt for all these years.

Lucius released him and Bellatrix released Damien. "Very good, Dylan," Lucius said. "Don't do anything so foolish again."

"I should punish you," Voldemort said, "but I have no more time to waste. I shall not be so merciful a second time, boy."

Dylan dropped to his knees and bowed low. "Forgive me, Master. I will never do such a thing again."

Voldemort actually laughed and patted him on the shoulder, looking almost indulgent. "You are young, boy. In time you will learn not to be affected by foolish emotions like love."

Dylan forced his body to remain still, fighting back a shudder, and also kept his mental walls rigidly in place, not letting any of his hatred or fear leak through them.

Voldemort turned away and called to his Death Eaters to begin the ceremony. They formed a circle around Goewin and began chanting. Lucius and a few of the other Death Eaters, including the elder Crabbe and Goyle, remained apart from the circle to keep an eye on the children.

Lucius placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "This is a great night, my son. Tonight you will become one of us, and we will finally claim the power and glory that are rightfully ours."

"Y-yes, Father," Draco said, trying to look properly grateful and impressed, but inside he was deeply shaken. He was the son of a Death Eater, and was prepared for the sight of blood, was prepared to kill if necessary, but he had not expected the Death Eaters to sacrifice a pregnant woman tonight--especially not one who was Dylan's beloved great-aunt. {She's the enemy,} he told himself. {That means she deserves to die.} But he remembered seeing the beautiful dark-haired woman cheering her nephew on from the spectator stands on the Quidditch Pitch, waving one of Draco's beribboned roses, and could not quite seem to make himself believe his own words.

Lying in the circle, Goewin felt her fear depart as a vision overwhelmed her and she slid into trance, with no need for drugged smoke. "One will fall tonight," she intoned in a low, emotionless voice, "and only one will remain. The Lord of Darkness or the Boy Who Lived." The chanting faltered, then resumed as Voldemort glared at his Death Eaters, but a hint of fear glimmered in his crimson eyes. "Only a child born of the Serpent and the Lion can slay the Lord of Darkness." A sudden, overpowering fear filled the Dark Lord; he alone of all the people here understood the true meaning behind those words. For a moment, he was tempted to drop everything and flee, but the moment passed, and he raised his voice and continued chanting the incantation for the blood sacrifice spell. He would not be driven away in his moment of triumph by a seer's ramblings! One would fall tonight; that one would be Harry Potter and not himself. He would not fail; he would not be defeated by a mere child! No, he would carry out the sacrifice, break the protections on Hogwarts, kill Potter, and then no one would be able to stop him...
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dumbledore was holding an urgent conference with the remaining Hogwarts teachers and whatever Order members he was able to gather on short notice when Miyako's eyes glazed over and she spoke without seeming to be aware of it. "One will fall tonight and one will remain." Silence fell over the room. "The Lord of Darkness or the Boy Who Lived," she continued, oblivious. "Only a child born of the Serpent and the Lion can slay the Lord of Darkness." Then she fainted, and Mamoru hastily stepped forward to catch her. She blinked and regained consciousness a moment later, but had no recollection of what she had said.

"What does it mean?" McGonagall asked.

"I don't know," Dumbledore said, looking worried. "But it must refer to Harry. He does have some of Voldemort's powers, transferred to him when Voldemort tried to kill him; perhaps that's what it means by 'the Serpent'."

"I don't know about this Serpent and Lion business," Karasu said impatiently. "But the rest of it is clear enough. Harry Potter must fight in this battle tonight or all is lost."

"No!" Sirius cried out, but the despair in his eyes gave away the fact that he knew he could not shelter his godson from this battle.

Dumbledore bowed his head, looking old and weary. "I am afraid you are right," he told Karasu.
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Only Voldemort understood what this particular prophecy meant. Even before he had organized the Death Eaters and rose to power during the first war, he had still vented his rage on Mudbloods and Muggles, although he had been more discreet about it back then. He had raped a pretty red-headed Muggle girl who had crossed his path by chance one night, simply because it amused him, and did not realize until years later that their brief encounter had resulted in a child: Lily Evans. When he learned of the child's existence, he monitored her closely, but to his disappointment, she did not follow his path as a Slytherin, but instead joined the foolish, noble Gryffindors, and eventually married James Potter, who was a descendant of Godric Gryffindor. Neither Potter nor any of his living relatives had been aware of their heritage because their Gryffindor ancestor had been born on the wrong side of the blanket, so to speak, and the Potter woman who had given birth to a child not her husband's had taken that secret with her to her grave. Only Voldemort knew that little Harry Potter was the descendant of both Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor--a child born of the Serpent and the Lion. Voldemort had been intent upon wiping out the Potter family, not just because they were staunch supporters of Dumbledore, but because of their Gryffindor blood. He had intended to spare his wayward daughter's life, but she had forced him to kill her when she refused to give up the child. He should have slain her long ago, as soon as her path crossed Potter's, before she ever had a chance to bear a child with the power to destroy him.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

A commotion in the hospital wing woke up Deirdre Donner. Madam Pomfrey and a young Japanese woman were bustling about gathering bandages and other supplies.

"You stay here and be prepared for serious injuries," the Japanese woman was saying. "I'm going to set up a field hospital; I'm sure they'll need a healer on the battlefield."

"Is that safe, Chizuru?" Pomfrey asked, sounding worried.

"Of course not," Chizuru replied. "But if the warriors are risking their lives, I can do no less. Mamoru and Tsuneko will protect me."

"What's going on?" Deirdre asked in alarm. "You said something about a battle...?"

"The Headmaster believes that the Death Eaters are staging an attack on Hogwarts tonight," Pomfrey replied gravely.

Deirdre jumped out of bed. "If there's going to be a battle against the Death Eaters, I intend to be there!" she declared.

"Mrs. Donner!" Pomfrey cried. "You're not well, you can't--" But Deirdre was already running out of the room.

"We don't have time to chase after her," Chizuru said with a rare hint of impatience as Pomfrey started to go after Deirdre. "I'm sorry, but there are other people counting on us."

Madam Pomfrey sighed and said, "I suppose you're right." She remembered Deirdre well, from when her children had been students at Hogwarts; she remembered Lady Donner as a cold, formidable woman who never took "no" for an answer. "Besides," she added wryly, "in a fight between a Death Eater and Deirdre Donner, I'd put my money on Deirdre any day."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dumbledore and McGonagall woke up Harry and told him what was happening. "This is it," Harry said, turning pale. He rubbed the scar on his forehead which, not surprisingly, was sore. "The prophecy said one of us must kill the other. I have to fight him tonight, don't I?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so, Harry."

"All right," Harry said with grim determination, trying to sound braver than he felt. At least after tonight, it would all be over, one way or the other... "Let me get dressed." The teachers exited the room, as Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus watched with round, frightened eyes. Harry pulled off his nightshirt and started to reach for his clothes, then paused. He reached into his trunk and pulled out the jar of woad-based unguent they had made in Snape's class, and smeared it over his arms and chest. He might look a little silly dyed blue, but maybe it would help; it certainly couldn't hurt. He also took out a small strip of cloth he had made in Professor Chizuru's class, one that had a protective charm woven in along with the threads. At least, he hoped so; the cloth had come out slightly lopsided, with little lumpy knots where the threads had gotten tangled on the loom--but again, it couldn't hurt. He tied the cloth around his wrist and got dressed. The other boys got dressed, too; Ron and Neville also put on their unguent and protective charms.

Dumbledore said, "Come with me, Harry," and McGonagall tried to shepherd the other students to a safer and more defensible location in the heart of the castle. But she--and the other Heads of House as well--were having some trouble with their charges.

"We're not letting Harry go off to fight the Death Eaters alone!" Ron said indignantly, and Hermione nodded in emphatic agreement. In fact, all the members of Dumbledore's Army were frightened but determined to support Harry.

"Let them come," Miyako said. "I saw them on the battlefield in my vision--at least, I saw those two." She pointed to Ron and Hermione. "It may be that they have a key role to play in the battle."

"But--" McGonagall protested. Putting children in danger went against all her instincts as a teacher.

"We don't have time to argue," Miyako pointed out. "And if the Dark Lord wins, hiding in the castle won't protect them."

"But sending children out to fight--"

They reached a compromise; Chizuru needed volunteers to help her with her field hospital, and agreed to take charge of the rest of the D.A. members. She pointed out that she could especially use the help of students like Neville and Lavender, who could practice healing magic. This was marginally safer than fighting, although the teachers still weren't happy about it.

The Slytherins were not so eager to rush onto the battlefield, but when Millicent and Pansy heard that Parvati and Lavender would be working at the field hospital, they insisted on going with them. "We can't do healing magic," Pansy said, "but we can bandage and splint wounds."

"And we can help guard the hospital," Millicent added. "The Death Eaters won't hesitate to attack noncombatants. You need someone to protect the healers."

"Thank you," Chizuru said with a gentle smile, as all the other teachers and students stared at the Slytherin girls in shock.

"Let's get a move on!" Karasu said impatiently. "We haven't time to waste!"

Before they left, Miyako drew Harry aside and said to him quietly, "The Lion must embrace the Serpent in the end; I have Seen it in my vision."

Harry had no idea who this strange girl was, but the adults had deferred to her judgment when she told them to allow the students to fight. Clearly she was some sort of seer, but her proclamation made no more sense to him than any of Professor Trelawney's predictions. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, a bit more sharply than he had intended.

"You will know when the time comes," the girl said solemnly, and Harry shook his head in frustration before following Dumbledore, Sirius, and the other Order members out of the castle.
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The Death Eaters continued the ritual, which seemed to be drawing near the end; Voldemort had slipped the serpent-hilted dagger out of its sheath. Meanwhile, Percy Weasley was desperately trying to shake off the effects of the Imperius Curse. He was still frozen in place, unable to speak, but with a great deal of effort, managed to move his hand just a little; it was enough. Lucius, preoccupied with keeping a close eye on Dylan, did not notice Percy's hand slip into his pocket...

Percy grasped hold of the fireworks tube, pulled it out of his pocket, and knocked the cap off. A stream of red and gold fireworks shot straight up into the air. The Death Eaters broke off their chanting and looked up in surprise. A furious Lucius Malfoy pointed his wand at Percy and screamed, "CRUCIO!" Percy fell to the ground screaming, but despite the pain, felt a sense of triumph. Surely someone at the castle would notice the fireworks...
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Snape, Lupin, Branwen, Math, and Ariane heard a small explosion, and a second later saw fireworks bursting into red and gold flowers of flame and sparks in the sky. "It must be a signal from one of the students!" Lupin exclaimed. The pain in Snape's Mark seemed to confirm that the Death Eaters lay in the direction of the fireworks, and the five Order members ran towards them.

At first, Voldemort was pleased to see Snape run into the clearing; he wanted all of his Death Eaters present at his victory. But then he noticed Snape's companions, and the dagger flew out of his hand as Snape pointed his wand at his Master and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

"You traitor!" Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy shouted simultaneously. Lucius raised his wand, but Dylan attacked him before he get a spell off. Lucius managed to sidestep the curse, and snarled, "A traitor like your mentor, I see! You'll pay for that, boy! Give my regards to your father because you'll be seeing him soon!"

"How could you?!" Draco shouted at Snape, looking hurt and furious. "How could you betray us?! My father was right when he said I shouldn't trust you!"

"Draco, I--" Snape started to say, but had to break off and cast a shield spell when Draco attacked him.

Voldemort cursed; the ritual had been interrupted and now the spell was ruined. Well, he would still kill Goewin and her unborn child, and hope the mere spilling of blood would be enough to break the protections on Hogwarts even if it wasn't amplified by a Blood Magic ritual. If that wasn't enough, then he'd kill the Death Eater offspring, and if that still wasn't enough, he'd slay every damn brat in the castle if that's what it took!

A fierce and heated battle was taking place, but the Death Eaters outnumbered the Order members, and it seemed that they would prevail until...

"Master!" Wormtail shouted, pointing at the sky. They could see a number of figures on broomsticks approaching at high speed.

Voldemort cursed again; it was Dumbledore bringing reinforcements, no doubt. Well, two could play at that game! "Morsmordre!" he shouted, and a giant glowing skull made of green sparks appeared in the sky. As the Order members arrived at the scene, Voldemort's allies poured out of the Forbidden Forest: the ground trembled and shook, heralding an army of giants, and behind them glided a number of dark-cloaked Dementors.

The fighting broke out in earnest then; and it seemed that the scales had tipped slightly in Voldemort's favor: the Order members were temporarily too occupied with fending off Dementor attacks and avoiding being crushed by the giants to effectively fight the Death Eaters.

But then a flock of crows flew into view and dropped to the ground, turning into men and women armed with staves and spears and swords. And a series of bloodcurdling howls filled the air as a pack of wolves ran onto the battlefield. They didn't seem to be affected by the Dementors' auras as the humans were, perhaps protected by their animal forms. One large wolf with light, yellow-brown fur leapt up and tore out a Death Eater's throat as he raised his wand. Several other wolves darted in close to one of the giants--too quick and nimble to be caught by the larger but slower and clumsier creature--and tore at his calf, hamstringing him, and ran for cover as the giant toppled to the ground like a tree being felled. As another giant tried to grab at the snarling wolves nipping at his heels, an arrow suddenly buried itself deep in his eye, and he howled in pain. The centaurs had arrived.

Draco was fighting with the Death Eaters, and Dylan was fighting alongside the Order, but the other children watched from the sidelines for the moment, too shocked and frightened to react. But as a Dementor glided towards Dylan's unprotected back, Damien ran forward and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" And his hound Patronus--reflecting his inner self, faithful and loyal--emerged from his wand and drove back the Dementor.

"Thanks!" Dylan said, and Damien grinned back at him, looking pale but determined.

Meanwhile, Voldemort, drained by the effort of the failed ritual, grabbed the closest available victim--Cornelius Fudge, still frozen in place by the Imperius Curse. He stabbed the Minister of Magic with the enchanted red blade, and the man went pale, and his plump form seemed to shrivel in upon itself. He fell to the ground, a withered husk, and Voldemort stepped forward to do battle, revitalized by the life-force he had stolen.

In the commotion, Goewin was temporarily forgotten. Gilbert hesitated, then saw the serpent-hilted dagger lying on the ground where it had been knocked out of Voldemort's hand. He picked it up and quietly crawled towards his aunt. Her eyes widened with fear, but all he did was cut the ropes binding her. "I'm so sorry, Goewin," he whispered. "For everything." He cast a small spell of obscurement over her; it would not last long, but hopefully it would hold long enough for her to escape the battlefield. "Go now," he said. "Quickly."

"Thank you," she whispered. And with a seer's certainty, she knew that she would never see him again, so she added, "I forgive you."

Gilbert's eyes filled with tears as he watched her hurry away; he had made a mess of his life, but at least he had finally done one thing right. He dropped the knife and hastily slipped away from the empty circle before anyone could notice that Goewin was gone, or that he had helped her.

Goewin moved as fast as she could--which was not very fast, considering that she was about eight months pregnant and her limbs were stiff from being bound for so long. But she managed to get a good distance away before the obscurement charm wore off and somebody spotted her.

"Hey!" shouted Andreas Avery. "The sacrifice is getting away!" He flung a spell at her, but Karasu jumped in front of Goewin, and the spell rebounded harmlessly off a magical shield. He was more than a simple warrior, it seemed.

"Get her out of here!" Karasu shouted to Satoshi.

Goewin turned to see a plump, smiling man standing at her side; he seemed to have a raccoon's tail growing out of his rump. He made a brief gesture with his wand, and suddenly a dozen duplicates of Goewin and Satoshi appeared on the battlefield. Each Satoshi smiled and extended a hand to each Goewin, bowed, and said, "This way, my lady."

Each illusion vanished as soon as a spell hit it, but it bought enough time for the real Satoshi to get the real Goewin to safety.
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Meanwhile, Gilbert saw Gwydion dueling with a tall, bald black wizard, and hurried to his brother's side. "Gwydion!"

"I'm a little busy right now, Gil!" Gwydion snarled.

"Gwydion," he said urgently, "this is wrong! You've got to stop!"

"What are you babbling about?" Gwydion said impatiently. "It's too late to turn back now!" He dodged a beam of red light and shouted, "Hah! Is that the best you can do, Shacklebolt?"

Before the Auror could retort, Deirdre Donner unceremoniously pushed him out of the way, snapping, "This is my fight!"

Gwydion's face went white. "Mother!"

Her face was as cold and implacable as it had been on the day she had disowned Ariane. "You are my sons no longer! You are a disgrace to your bloodline!"

"Mother," Gwydion whined, "you don't understand! This isn't what it looks like!"

In answer she hurled a powerful curse at him; he quickly threw up a shield spell. But Gilbert just stood there, hands down at his side, not raising his wand in defense. Deirdre pointed her wand at him.

Ariane looked at Gilbert, and suddenly she remembered the older brother who had pulled her hair and teased her as a little girl, but who had also read her bedtime stories when their mother was too busy, who had climbed a tree to rescue her pet kitten, who had responded to his little sister's demands of "Carry me!" with a laughing, "Yes, Princess!" Riding on her brother's shoulders, she had indeed felt on top of the world, like a princess or queen surveying her kingdom. All this flashed through her mind in a few seconds, and she grabbed at her mother's arm, disrupting the spell. "Mother, no!" she cried. Gilbert looked at her in surprise, then smiled, the kind and loving smile she remembered from her childhood, which she had not seen in years.

Deirdre shoved her daughter aside, with a strength surprising for one who had been lying in a hospital bed until recently, and cast a Killing Curse at Gilbert. He did not try to dodge the spell or shield himself, just stood there smiling; the smile was still on his face when his body hit the ground.

Gwydion screamed in rage and grief. "You killed him!" he shouted. "You dare scorn me for being a Death Eater when you killed your own son with an Unforgivable Curse?!"

"I gave you life," Deirdre hissed, her eyes still cold and hard. "It is my right to take it, now that you have betrayed not just your family, but the entire wizarding world! You will atone for your crimes with your life, Gwydion!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Deirdre and Gwydion screamed simultaneously as Ariane screamed at them to stop. She watched in horror as both her mother and brother fell to the ground, dead.

Shacklebolt fended off an attack from Thaddeus Nott, who took the opportunity to strike when he saw that Ariane was distracted. "Grieve for the dead later!" he said gruffly, but not without sympathy. "We have no time for that now!"

Tonks suddenly appeared at Ariane's side. Sirius had removed the Squib Collar so that she could come and fight with her comrades; breaking the Ministry's terms of release was now the least of her worries. Besides, if it brought a pack of Aurors to the scene to arrest her, so much the better--they could use the help. She laid a hand on Ariane's shoulder and said, "You must be strong now, for Dylan's sake."

"You're right," Ariane said, blinking away her tears. Then she looked around frantically. "Where did he go? I lost of sight him when Mother attacked Gilbert."

Meanwhile, Voldemort had removed the restraining net from the roses. Fred and George Weasley, who had arrived with the Order reinforcements, spotted their brother Percy lying on the ground. He had lost consciousness after being struck with the Cruciatus Curse, and was just beginning to stir as his brothers rushed towards him. Nearby, the rose vines, awakened by the scent of blood being spilled on the battlefield, began to stir as well. They lashed out and ensnared Fred, who started screaming as the thorns bit into his flesh and began drinking his blood. George frantically began hurling spells at the vines as Percy struggled to shake off the effects of two Unforgivable Curses and come to his brother's aid.

Dylan saw this and rushed over, Damien by his side. George had just cast an Incendio spell; the flames scorched the vines slightly and caused them to loosen their hold on Fred, but not release him completely.

"Let him go!" Dylan shouted. The vines quivered rebelliously. "Let him go, I said! I command it, as your master!" The vines very reluctantly released Fred, and George and Percy--who was rather wobbly on his feet himself--hustled their wounded brother to safety. A tengu showed up to lead them to Chizuru's field hospital, which had been set up a short distance from the battlefield.

The vines were stirring restlessly, angry at being deprived of their prey. "Attack the Death Eaters!" Dylan ordered. They shot out, stretching to their full length--much longer than Dylan had known they could reach--and just managed to reach Antonin Dolohov, who was engaged in combat with Professor Lupin. The vines wrapped around his ankle; before he had a chance to exclaim, they dragged him back towards the flower pot they were anchored in, knocking him off his feet and causing him to drop his wand. The vines converged on him, wrapping themselves around the full length of his body as he screamed hysterically.

Lupin's eyes widened, and he had only a moment to nod at Dylan in acknowledgment before being attacked by Walden Macnair. Dylan was about to go to Lupin's aid when a trio of Dementors surrounded him and Damien, and they had to stop to cast Patronuses to drive the Dementors back. Ariane had spotted him by now, and was hurrying over to her son.

A giant toppled behind Lupin, brought down by several tengu, and the loud crash startled him, distracting him long enough for Macnair to strike at him with a curse. It struck him squarely, but did not kill him as it should have; he felt a sudden surge of heat against his chest as the protective charm Kamiyama had given all the Order members absorbed the brunt of the attack and was instantly destroyed, crumbling into ash. But the remaining force of the attack knocked him backwards, causing him to fall and drop his wand. Macnair grinned and moved in for the kill.

Snape was engaged in combat with Rabastan Lestrange and had not yet noticed. Dylan and Damien had just managed to drive back the Dementors and would not be able to react in time. But someone else was watching...

Brad Doherty had followed Draco and the others to the Death Eater ceremony. He had watched from a distance, hidden behind a tree, at first with excitement, then with increasing fear and horror. Lupin and Macnair had unknowingly drifted near his hiding place, and when the boy saw his Professor in danger, he acted without thinking.

Brad leaped out and shouted, "Protego!" A magical barrier sprung up in front of Lupin, reflecting Macnair's spell back at him. He was not able to completely evade it, and screamed in pain as he was wounded by his own curse.

Meanwhile Bellatrix Lestrange saw an opportunity, and hurled a curse at Dylan, who was still staring in shock at Brad and Lupin. A beam of red light shot out of her wand towards the boy.

"NO!" screamed Snape, breaking off his duel with Rabastan, but he was too far away, he knew he would be too late...then he had to duck as Rabastan laughed and threw another curse his way.

Ariane had no time to raise her wand; she simply flung herself in front of her son, straight in the path of Bellatrix's spell; it hit her squarely in the chest.

"MOTHER!" Dylan screamed as Ariane fell to the ground, the front of her robes now soaked with blood.

Tonks stepped up to duel with Rabastan, freeing Snape to rush to Dylan's side. As he ran, he hurled a Killing Curse at Bellatrix, not caring that he might be punished for it after the battle was over. She managed to dodge it and laughed, but then she saw Math, his face filled with fury at the sight of his niece being struck down, and fled the scene.

"Mother, please don't die!" Dylan begged, kneeling at Ariane's side as tears streamed down his face.

"It's all right, Dylan," she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. "Don't cry; it's all right, I can finally be with your father now." Then her gaze shifted to a point over his shoulder and she smiled. Dylan looked behind him but saw nothing. "Evan," Ariane whispered, and she died. What must have been a stray gust of wind gently brushed across Dylan's cheek in what felt like a caress as he threw himself across his mother's body, sobbing.

Lupin, Snape, Damien, Brad, and Math were all gathered around him. Snape placed a hand on Dylan's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Dylan," he said in a voice low and hoarse with grief. "But we have no time to mourn our dead now."

"My mother's dead!" Dylan screamed.

"Dylan--" Lupin started to say in a gentle voice.

"Yes, she is," Snape said harshly, and Lupin blinked in surprise. "She gave her life to save yours; will you let yourself get killed and make her sacrifice for naught?"

The stern, familiar tone of the Potions Master's voice seemed to snap Dylan out of his hysteria. "No, sir," he said firmly. There was still sorrow in his eyes, but also grim determination.

"Good lad," Snape said, squeezing his shoulder. "Let's go fight some Death Eaters." Dylan smiled, still with that grim look in his eyes.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, at the moment of Ariane's death, the roses exploded into a frenzy. They immediately dropped Dolohov's body, although it was not yet completely drained of blood, and shot out in Bellatrix's direction. She saw them heading her way, turned, pale, and ran as fast as she could. The vines whipped the air, as if in anger and frustration, when Bellatrix ran out of their reach. But then they rustled eagerly as Voldemort, who was trying to evade Dumbledore, crossed their path. He felt the thorns pierce his flesh and he screamed in fear and rage, hurling spells at them, trying to force them to let him go. His screams were drowned out by the howling of the wind, which sounded strangely like vindictive laughter...it almost sounded like Evan Rosier's voice. Then the wind died away, and the air was still again.

"Master!" Rodolphus Lestrange shouted, loyally rushing to his Lord's aid. He cast spells of flame and withering; the vines loosened a little, but would not let go. Voldemort reached out, grabbed Lestrange's arm, and thrust his loyal servant into the heart of the vines. The vines released the Dark Lord and wrapped around their new captive, who was screaming in pain and shock and betrayal.

"RODOLPHUS!" Bellatrix screamed. For all her sadism, she did truly love her husband, and she stared in horror as their Master saved himself at Rodolphus's expense. They had served him loyally, never wavering in their faith when all the others had turned their backs on him. They had gone to Azkaban, spending over a decade in prison with the Dementors sucking out every happy memory they had, loyally waiting for their Master's return. They would willingly have given their lives for him, if he had asked. But he had not asked; he had simply taken. He had betrayed them. Bellatrix did the unthinkable; she attacked her Master.

Pain erupted in Voldemort's already fragile body; he turned to see Bellatrix, mad with grief and rage, recklessly flinging spells at him. She was actually able to wound him badly before he managed to slay her with a Killing Curse.

He stumbled away and the first Death Eater who crossed his path was Thaddeus Nott. "Bring me your son," he gasped. Thaddeus hesitated; he suspected he knew what the Dark Lord wanted his son for. "Do it!" Voldemort snarled. "Or I'll take your life instead!"

Theodore, Blaise, Serafina, Crabbe, and Goyle were trying to avoid the battle, but were kept busy fending off Dementors, who didn't particularly care who they attacked, avoiding being accidentally stepped on by the giants, and generally trying not to get caught in the crossfire. Theodore saw his father heading his way, and when he saw the look in Thaddeus's eyes, started to run.

But Thaddeus raised his wand and shouted, "Imperio! Come to me, Theodore!" And Theodore found himself moving against his will towards his father.

"Stupefy!" Blaise shouted, trying to stun Theodore's father. But Thaddeus avoided the spell and hurled a curse at Blaise. Theodore heard his friend cry out in pain, but his feet kept moving forward no matter how hard he tried to stop.

"Blaise!" he cried helplessly; he was still free to speak--for all the good that did--since his father had not commanded him to be silent.

Thaddeus grabbed his son's arm and hustled him towards the Dark Lord. "When I have time later, I'll finish your little friend off, Theodore! Too bad you won't be around to see it!"

Serafina stepped forward to try and stop him, but found her father barring her path.

"Well, well, Serafina," he said with a nasty smile. "You're not being a very dutiful daughter. Attacking your fellow Death Eaters is treason."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, Thaddeus was dragging his son towards Voldemort, who was holding a red dagger in one hand. "Please, please Father, don't do this, please," Theodore begged.

"I'm not happy about giving up my only heir, as worthless as you are," Thaddeus growled. "But it's you or me."

"Mother!" Theodore cried desperately, knowing it wouldn't do any good. "Mother, please help me!" But Marta only stood there shaking in terror, tears running down her face.

Lupin saw this, and felt the change come over him. If a werewolf was faced with sufficient danger--or, if his loved ones were, apparently--he would change involuntarily, even if the moon wasn't full. A brown wolf rushed forward, leapt up, and his jaws snapped shut around Thaddeus Nott's arm with a loud crunching sound--the sound of bones breaking. Thaddeus screamed, releasing his son. Snape grabbed Theodore, who was still suffering from the residual effects of the Imperius Curse, and dragged him away to relative safety.

Lupin released Thaddeus and slowly backed away, growling. He was not taking the Wolfsbane Potion at present, since the moon was not full yet, so his mind was not entirely human, but somehow it was not entirely animal, either. Perhaps it was because he had been taking the potion regularly for four years now, or maybe it was because he had changed to protect someone dear to him, but whatever the reason, he was sane enough to not want to kill. Some small part of him, although he was not consciously aware of it right now, did not want to kill Thaddeus because it would cause Theodore pain, no matter how much he hated his father.

Thaddeus had no such compunctions. He raised his wand with his good arm; Lupin tensed and crouched down, preparing to spring. Then Thaddeus cried out in pain and stared down dumbly at the length of steel emerging from his chest, wondering where it had come from. Karasu pulled his sword out of the Death Eater's body and Thaddeus toppled to the ground, dead.

"Don't be so soft next time, Lupin," Karasu scolded. "It could get you killed." Lupin barked, wagged his tail, and jumped up and licked the tengu's face in thanks. "Argh!" Karasu exclaimed, wiping his face and flushing with embarrassment. "Don't do that, you stupid dog!" Lupin barked again, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief, and ran back onto the battlefield.

Voldemort, denied his sacrifice, grabbed Marta instead and stabbed her with his dagger. Her scream caused Theodore to look back.

"Mother!"

"It's too late!" Snape said, dragging him along. "There's nothing you can do!" Theodore did not protest, but followed numbly as Voldemort stole his mother's life-force, then cast aside her body as carelessly as a child might toss aside a candy wrapper. Then Theodore forgot about her for the time being when he saw Serafina and Blaise confronting Andreas Avery.

"Time to start behaving like a Death Eater," Andreas said; he had not yet noticed that his friend Nott was dead.

"I will never be a Death Eater!" Serafina said defiantly. Blaise stood by her side, wand at the ready; there was a bloody gash on his upper left arm, but it didn't seem to be serious. Crabbe and Goyle were watching with round, frightened eyes.

"Then you will die!" Andreas said.

"Andreas, no!" Delia Avery cried out, clutching at her husband's arm. He pushed her away impatiently, knocking her to the ground.

"Please, Serafina," Delia cried. "Don't be foolish, obey your father before it's too late!"

Serafina gave her mother a pitying look. "I was afraid of him for a long time, but not anymore. No...I am still afraid, but I would rather die than become like the Death Eaters, willing to sacrifice a pregnant woman, willing even to kill your own children..."

"Then die!" Andreas snarled. He raised his wand, but Serafina was quicker. She used her healing powers in reverse, as Snape had taught her, and Andreas cried out in pain, blisters and boils and bloody wounds opening up all over his body. "You little bitch!" he screamed.

"Expelliarmus!" Blaise cried, and Andreas's wand flew out of his hand and landed near Delia's feet.

"Give me my wand, quick!" Andreas shouted as Delia picked it up.

"Don't do it, Delia," Snape warned, and she hesitated. "He was going to kill your daughter!" She looked from Snape to her husband uncertainly.

"Give it here, Delia, or I'll kill you!" Andreas roared.

Snape raised his wand. "I don't want to hurt you, Delia," he warned. "But I will if I must."

"No, Professor!" Serafina cried, rushing forward. "Please don't hurt my mother!"

Snape was distracted for a moment, and Andreas lunged forward--not towards Delia and the wand, but for Serafina, who was closer. He was, as Snape had once pointed out, a coward at heart, and he knew that even with his wand, he was no match for Snape and Serafina and her friends combined. So he grabbed his daughter, pulled a knife out of his pocket, and held it to her throat. "Lower your wands!" he shouted. "Do it, or I'll kill her!"

Snape and the boys slowly lowered their wands. "Your own daughter," Snape said with a disgusted look on his face.

"You're soft, Snape!" Andreas retorted. "Too soft to be a Death Eater! Give me the wand, Delia. Good girl."

She held out the wand, as if about to hand it to him, then said softly, "Impedimenta," and Andreas froze in place. His eyes filled with fury but his body was unable to move. Snape quickly stepped forward and pulled the knife out of his hand, and Serafina squirmed out of his grip. Both she and Snape stared at Delia in amazement.

"You...saved me," Serafina whispered in an incredulous voice.

Delia's eyes filled with tears and she smiled sadly. "You sound shocked," she said. "I suppose that only goes to show what a bad mother I am."

"You can bemoan your failings as a mother later," Snape said acerbically. "Take Serafina and the children and get them to the castle. Don't worry, Dumbledore believes in second chances--as I should well know. I'm sure he'll plead mercy for you, providing we all survive long enough for the Ministry to press charges."

"I'm not going," Serafina said stubbornly.

Blaise and Theodore exchanged a glance. "We're not going, either," Theodore said.

"We'll stay and fight with you," Blaise said.

Snape glared at his three students, and they stared back at him with a surprising lack of fear. "We want to fight the Death Eaters," Serafina said.

"You let Dylan and Damien and Brad fight," Theodore said. Snape scowled; he had not precisely "let" them fight. He had known that he could not stop Dylan from trying to avenge his mother, and Damien had refused to leave his friend's side. Brad had run after the other two boys before Snape could stop him. His students were suddenly becoming quite rebellious; he must be losing his touch. Or maybe it was that he no longer seemed so scary compared to the real Death Eaters...

"You don't have time to argue with us," Blaise pointed out logically. "And besides, if the Death Eaters win, they'll kill us anyway. I'd rather die fighting than end up as a blood sacrifice."

"Just try not to get yourselves killed," Snape said sourly.

"Yes, Professor," the children chorused, and he almost smiled.

"De--de--de--" Crabbe suddenly stuttered.

"Dementors!" Goyle cried.

A swarm of Dementors had surrounded them during their brief argument. "Expecto Patronum!" Snape, Delia, and the children shouted, as Andreas tried to shake off the Impediment Curse. Theodore and Serafina produced their weasel and angel Patronuses; Blaise's took the form of a silver owl. Delia, who had never been a very strong mage, produced only a silver cloud, but it was keeping the Dementors away from her for the moment. Crabbe and Goyle were struggling to produce a bit of silver mist, so Snape sent his Patronus, a silver serpent, to protect them. Which left him unguarded, and he felt a chill seep into his bones as a gray, slimy, claw-like hand reached out and closed around his wrist.

Both he and the Dementor fell to the ground as a brown blur streaked towards them and knocked the Dementor over. The Dementor grabbed the wolf's head, pulling the struggling werewolf's face down towards its own...

"LUPIN!" Snape shouted, scrabbling on the ground to find his wand, which he had dropped in the fall. He did not know if the Dementor's Kiss could affect a wolf, and he didn't want to find out.

Crabbe and Goyle for once were not slow-witted and instantly made the connection that the wolf was their teacher, who always smiled at them kindly, the only person (other than maybe Hermione and Neville) who didn't treat them like complete idiots. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" they shouted, concentrating hard on their happiest memory...
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had been Goyle's fifth birthday, and all his father's friends and their children had been invited to the party. Little Draco Malfoy was already bossing the other children around, and Goyle was expected to go along with it, since Draco's father was some kind of big shot. Draco said something that the adults seemed to find very witty and amusing, and they all laughed. Goyle just sat there with a blank look on his face, and his mother sighed, looking disappointed in him, as she often did.

"He takes after his father, I suppose," she muttered.

Goyle wasn't sure why those words made him feel so ashamed of himself, but they did. But then he looked across the table, and saw another boy, who looked just as blank and bewildered by Draco's joke as Goyle did. Goyle smiled shyly, and Crabbe smiled back. That had been the happiest day of Goyle's life, and Crabbe's too, the day they had each found a best friend. They had a great time that day, feasting on cake, playing birthday games (even though Draco won most of those), and trading Famous Wizard cards with each other. It didn't matter so much that everyone seemed to think they were stupid, because at least they weren't alone anymore.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Crabbe and Goyle shouted, and a shimmering silver badger and bear rushed towards the Dementor holding Lupin, claws outstretched. The Dementor released the wolf and fled. The other Dementors vanished as well.

Snape just sat there on the ground, his mouth hanging open. "F-full Patronuses?" he stammered, dumbfounded. "Crabbe...and GOYLE?!"

Serafina, Blaise, and Theodore looked just as shocked. The wolf ran up to the boys, who braced themselves nervously, not sure if they were about to be attacked by a werewolf. Lupin jumped up and began licking their faces enthusiastically.

"You're welcome!" Goyle laughed.

"Haha, stop that, Professor, it tickles," Crabbe laughed, trying to fend off the grateful wolf.

"Crabbe and Goyle," Snape muttered, shaking his head. It was fortunate that there were no other Death Eaters nearby at moment, because he would have been too stunned to defend himself. Actually, there was one Death Eater present, but he was no threat. In the excitement, everyone had forgotten about Andreas Avery until it was too late. He was still standing where they had left him, but he was staring off into space blankly, with no intelligence behind his eyes. Paralyzed by the Impediment Curse, he had been unable to defend himself from a Dementor who had Kissed him and sucked out his soul.

{No loss,} Snape thought privately, but refrained from saying so out loud for Serafina's and Delia's sakes. Delia was weeping, but Serafina looked calm and not particularly grief-stricken as she comforted her mother.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dumbledore had been pursuing Voldemort, who seemed to be hanging back on the fringes of the battlefield, letting the Death Eaters do most of the fighting. But the giants, with their sheer size and strength, were wreaking a great deal of havoc. A group of Aurors finally arrived, alerted by Dumbledore's urgent message to the Ministry, or perhaps by the breaking of the enchantment on Tonks's collar--or maybe both; either way he was pleased to have them here. But one of the giants uprooted a tree and swung it like a baseball bat at an Auror flying towards him on a broomstick; the Auror went flying through the air like a rag doll and landed heavily on the ground, his body limp and still.

So Dumbledore had to let Voldemort go for the moment, and try to deal with the giants. Meanwhile, Branwen had broken off combat and retreated to the edge of the battlefield. Her old partners Moody and Sirius guarded her as they had in the old days while she performed a Summoning incantation.

There was no time to draw a protective circle, no time to gather incense or material components. She would have to perform the Summoning with an incantation alone; something very dangerous and beyond the capabilities of most mages. But Branwen was not most mages. Some of the Death Eaters noticed what she was doing and began firing spells in her direction. She ignored them and continued chanting, trusting in her partners to deflect the attacks.

The earth beneath their feet began to tremble and a deep voice rumbled, "WHAT IS YOUR WILL?"

"Oh, shit!" squeaked Wormtail.

"Wh-what is that?" the elder Crabbe and Goyle asked nervously.

"A Greater Elemental!" Wormtail said. "Run!" He turned into a rat and scuttled away.

"Damn you, you little coward!" Sirius shouted, but he couldn't leave Branwen's side.

Meanwhile, Branwen was replying to the elemental, "These giants are defiling the earth with blood and death. Reach up and hold them fast in your grip, that we may deal with them."

"DONE!" the voice boomed. The giants suddenly found their feet sinking into the earth--no, the earth was reaching up, over their ankles and up to their knees, at first with the soft consistency of mud, then hardening until it was as strong as stone. No matter how much they struggled, they could not break free.

"Well done, Branwen!" Dumbledore called to her, and went to deal with the giants. The centaurs were taking this opportunity to pepper the immobile targets with arrows, and he hurried off to shout at them to stop, that they didn't need to kill the giants now that they were no longer a threat.

Branwen swayed on her feet a little, and Sirius caught her in his arms. "Are you okay, Branwen?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes," she replied. "I'm fine. The spell just drained me, that's all. Give me a moment to recover."

"You should retreat to the castle, or at least the hospital tent," Sirius said sternly.

"No, dear," she said. "I'm fine now, really." But neither of them moved. Moody stared at them, his good eye narrowing in thought, as his magical eye continued watching the battlefield.

Suddenly they heard Tonks scream in pain, and Sirius's head jerked up. They looked over and saw she was under attack from Lucius Malfoy. They were both standing near the now-abandoned circle intended for the blood sacrifice. "She's in trouble!" Sirius said.

"Go!" Branwen said. Moody and Sirius looked at her uncertainly. "GO!" she repeated, in her best no-nonsense Professorial tone. "I'll be fine; I'm part demon, for Merlin's sake! It takes more than a Summoning spell to knock me out of commission! Go!"

But she was weaker than she had let on, and leaned against a nearby tree for support. Hidden in the tall grass, Wormtail/Scabbers saw this and crept forward.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Crabbe and Goyle senior were running away from Branwen and the elemental when they saw a figure jumping up and down on the edge of the battlefield. They could not believe their eyes; it appeared to be Harry Potter!

"Yoo hoo!" cried the boy, waving his arms as he continued to jump up and down. "I'm right over here! Come and get me!"

Crabbe and Goyle grinned at each other; if they captured Harry Potter, their Master would reward them well! They sprinted after the boy, who took off running.

"Can't you run any faster than that?" the boy taunted, running past a large bush.

Intent upon catching the boy, the two Death Eaters did not see a tengu pop up from behind the bush and knock them both on the head with a heavy, wooden staff. They toppled to the ground unconscious.

"Good work, raccoon-boy," Karasu said.

Harry Potter suddenly turned into a plump tanuki. "Good work, crow-boy," Satoshi said cheerfully. They shook hands, then set about disarming and tying up their two captives.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tonks clutched at her shoulder; her robe had been burned away where the spell had touched her, leaving behind scorched flesh, and her right arm was dangling uselessly at her side.

"TONKS!" Shacklebolt screamed, breaking off his duel with Rabastan Lestrange. Rabastan did not try to hit the Auror in the back with a spell, but instead decided to use this opportunity to flee. The Death Eaters seemed to be losing the battle, and he was still in shock after having seen his Master murder both his brother and his sister-in-law, the only two people in the world that he really cared about. He was not suicidal enough to attack Voldemort, but he no longer felt any loyalty towards his Master, either. He decided to run, as far and as fast as he could, hoping to find some remote corner of the world where no one had ever heard of the Death Eaters. He was taking a risk, he knew, because the Dark Lord had hunted down and killed Karkaroff even though it had taken him over a year to do it, but Rabastan figured he was smarter than Karkaroff. Besides, the way things were going, Voldemort would likely be slain by the Potter brat...

"MALFOY!" Sirius roared, and a red jet of light shot out of his wand. It hit Lucius's hand, and he screamed in pain and dropped his wand. Simultaneously, Moody pointed his wand at Lucius and shouted, "Avada--"

Draco and Narcissa had both been fighting near Lucius, and Lucius reached out and grabbed his son, pulling Draco in front of him as a shield.

"LUCIUS!" Narcissa screamed in protest.

"--Kedavra!" Moody finished, unable to stop the word from coming out of his mouth in time.

"DRACO!" Snape shouted. He and Lupin threw themselves at Moody, and the three of them tumbled to the ground. Moody's spell was knocked astray in the process, causing the green burst of light to shoot harmlessly past Draco and Lucius.

Snape grabbed Moody by the front of his robes, screaming, "You almost killed a child! Are you insane?!"

"I didn't mean to," Moody protested, shaken despite his earlier declaration to the Order that the Slytherin children might have to be sacrificed for the greater good. "I didn't have time to react!" He wanted to argue that the child had been fighting on the side of the Death Eaters, anyway, but the memory of Draco's eyes, wide with horror and betrayal, stopped him. That sight would probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

Narcissa stood there, shaking with fear and anger and relief. Then she saw a metallic glint in the abandoned blood sacrifice circle--the moonlight reflecting off a small object. She reached down to pick it up, and saw that it was Voldemort's serpent-hilted dagger. She stared down at the dagger numbly. Her marriage to Lucius had been arranged by their parents, but she had been pleased with it. Lucius was rich and powerful and handsome--a proper mate for a pureblood girl of good breeding. He had always treated her with courtesy--he had never laid a hand on her in anger, like those brutes Nott and Avery did to their wives. He was a skilled and attentive lover, and despite his playboy reputation in school, after they had married, there had not been so much as a whispered rumor of infidelity. He was either faithful or very discreet; Narcissa didn't really want to know which. He was a good husband; that was all she needed to know, and she in turn always deferred to him as a good wife should. She had never had cause to regret her marriage. Until now...

"Dad," Draco whispered, staring at his father with horror. "How...how could you do that?" He felt like his heart was breaking into a million pieces; his father, whom he had loved and worshipped for as long as he could remember, had just tried to kill him.

"Come now, Draco," Lucius blustered, "no harm was done. I knew those softhearted fools wouldn't be able to hurt a child, even one who is a Death Eater."

"You didn't know that!" Draco accused. "You thought you were in danger, so you were going to sacrifice me to save your own skin!"

"What of it?" Lucius snarled. "I told you once, a good Slytherin never trusts anyone! I told you to always be prepared for betrayal!"

"I didn't think you meant from my own family!" Draco wailed.

"You're too soft to be a Malfoy!" Lucius snapped. "I should--" He gasped, breaking off his sentence, and his eyes went wide with shock; a trickle of blood ran out of his open mouth. He pitched forward onto his face, the serpent-shaped hilt of a dagger sticking out of his back.

Narcissa stood behind him, tears pouring down her face. "You tried to kill our son, Lucius," she sobbed. "Anything but that, I could have forgiven."

Draco sank to his knees beside his father's body, weeping. Narcissa reached out to him, but he slapped her hand away. Lupin appeared at his side, whining. He licked at the tears running down Draco's cheeks, but Draco pushed the wolf away. Snape touched his shoulder. "Don't hate your mother, Draco," he said softly. "She loves you. She was trying to protect you."

Draco angrily shrugged his hand off. "She killed my dad! And you're a traitor!" He began to sob hysterically. "My dad betrayed me! My own father was going to let me die to save his own life!"

To everyone's surprise, Serafina Avery knelt beside him and said solemnly, "I'm sorry, Draco."

"Wh-why?" he sniffled.

"Because I know what it's like to be betrayed by your father," she replied. "Only for me, it happened a long time ago: the first time he hit me for no better reason than he was in a bad mood that day."

"I thought he loved me," Draco wept.

"I thought so once, too," Serafina said. "When I was very, very little. But soon I realized that he would never really love me, that I would never be anything more than a possession to him, the same as his wand or his books or his house. I cried then. He's as good as dead now; the Dementors took his soul. I was done mourning for him a long time ago--I don't feel anything now but relief. But I'm sorry about you and your father, Draco."

Draco flung himself into her arms, still sobbing, and Serafina held him, gently rocking him back and forth, as if she were comforting a baby instead of a boy a year older than her. Lupin wagged his tail, and Snape watched in bemusement.

"Look out, Severus!" Narcissa cried, looking over his shoulder. She fired off a spell, and Augustus Rookwood cried out in pain.

"You traitor!" he shouted.

"Harm my son, and all bets are off, Augustus," she said fiercely. "I was a fool not to have seen it before! I saw our dear Master try to kill Nott's son, and saw him take Marta instead when Severus and Lupin saved the boy. I saw my own husband try to use our son as a living shield against a Killing Curse. I owe no loyalty to the Death Eaters, but I do owe the people who saved my son."

"Then die with them!" Rookwood shouted. He had been joined by two other Death Eaters: Macnair and Mulciber. They began hurling spells at Snape and Narcissa, who fired back. Lupin growled, torn between the need to go after the men attacking his mate and the need to stand guard over Draco and Serafina. Sirius and Moody rushed to join the fight, after urging Shacklebolt to take Tonks to the field hospital, over her protests. That evened the odds, but the battle was still heated. Lupin let out a loud yelp as a stray blast struck him in the flank. He licked at the wound, which was rapidly healing--one benefit of being a lycanthrope--but the yelp caused Draco to look up and see that his mother was under attack. He forgot his grief and anger for the moment and joined Snape and the others in fighting the Death Eaters.

It was now five against three, and the Death Eaters looked as though they were having second thoughts. Just as they were about to turn and flee, a sudden barrage of spells hit the three Death Eaters from behind and they fell to the ground, unconscious. Delia Avery and the rest of Snape's Slytherins--Dylan, Damien, Brad, Crabbe, Goyle, Theodore, and Blaise--stood over the bodies with very satisfied grins on their faces.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The earth elemental's power, while great, still had its limits, and a few of the giants were too far away to be ensnared by elemental's grip. Those giants had cornered three children at the edge of the Forbidden Forest...

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted; a bolt of red light hit the giant in the leg.

"That tickles," the giant said with a grin.

"Uh-oh," said Ron. He began hurling every spell he could think of at the giants, but nothing seemed to work. Either he was as incompetent as Snape had always claimed, or the giants were too big for the spells to properly affect them.

A giant swatted at Hermione in an almost playful way, like a cat toying with a mouse. She went flying, landing heavily on the ground.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, as he and Harry rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"

She tried to rise, then fell back to the ground, her face creased with pain. "My leg's hurt--I think it might be broken."

Ron and Harry stood in front of her protectively, raising their wands as the giant who had hit Hermione approached. Suddenly a voice roared, "NOT HURT HERMY!" A huge, hairy figure ran out of the forest.

Ron's jaw dropped. "It's Grawp!" he said incredulously. "Hagrid's brother!"

"HERMY HAGGER'S FRIEND!" Grawp shouted angrily, charging straight at the giant threatening Hermione. As big as he was, Grawp was small compared to the other giant, but surprise was on his side. He lowered his head and hit the larger giant in the stomach like a battering ram. The giant let out a startled, "Oof!" and went tumbling head over heels. As he landed, his head hit a rock (well, more of a boulder from the children's point of view) with a loud, sickening crack. The giant's body twitched once, then lay still.

The other giants looked at each other, then almost timidly stepped forward to examine the body. "Yep," one said. "His brains are oozing out. Golgomath's dead. The Gurg is dead; long live the Gurg!" Then he and the other giants knelt down in front of a puzzled Grawp.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, scratching his head.

Despite the pain in her leg, Hermione's mind was as sharp as ever. "Remember Hagrid's story? Golgomath was the Gurg, the leader of the giants, the one who allied with the Death Eaters. Grawp just killed Golgomath, so I think that makes him the new Gurg."

"Grawp is the king of the giants now?!" Ron yelped.

"Apparently," Hermione said, unfazed. "Grawp, tell them we're all friends now. We don't want to fight with them."

"Friends!" Grawp declared. "No fighting!" The giants nodded obediently. They were tired of fighting, anyway. Several of their number had been killed, and many more had just been captured by Branwen's elemental.

Harry raised a hand to his forehead as his scar started throbbing. He looked up to see a dark-robed figure backing away into the forest; the robes were voluminous and black, like the ones all the Death Eaters wore, but the person's face was ghostly white with crimson eyes. It was Voldemort.

"VOLDEMORT!" Harry shouted, and the Dark Lord retreated further into the forest. Harry started after him.

Ron grabbed his arm. "You can't take on You-Know-Who all by yourself!" he shouted. "Are you nuts?!"

"I have to!" Harry shouted back. "That's what the prophecy said, that no one could kill him but me! Sirius and Lupin and the others are fighting out there--people are dying! All this killing won't stop until Voldemort's dead! Until I kill him!"

"But Harry," Ron said helplessly.

"I have to do this," Harry whispered. "I have to do this alone; no one else can help me. You stay here and look after Hermione." He jerked free and ran into the forest.

"HARRY!" Ron shouted, but Harry did not look back.
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Meanwhile, Scabbers the rat snuck through the grass until he was right next to Branwen, then transformed back into a man. For a split-second, she was too startled to react, and Wormtail shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Her wand went flying out of her hand; Bane launched himself off her shoulder into the air, and Wormtail hastily shot off a curse at him. The raven let out a loud squawk of pain and fell to the ground, bright red blood showing through his black feathers. Branwen, connected by a mental bond to her familiar, felt the raven's pain as if it were her own, and fell to the ground clutching at her chest.

Wormtail had not expected that, but he grinned with sadistic pleasure. He summoned her wand to his hand with an Accio spell, and snapped it in two. "Ah, Professor Blackmore," he said as he looked down at her. "We students feared you so much, you and that demonic bird of yours. You so enjoyed bullying us; how does it feel to be the helpless one for a change?"

"Peter," Branwen gasped, "I wasn't trying to bully you. I was trying to make you stronger."

"Well then, you should be proud of me now, Professor!" Wormtail snapped. "I was weak, so I allied myself with the stronger side. I am the one with the power now!"

"I can forgive some of the Death Eaters," Branwen whispered, still overwhelmed by pain. "Though they were misguided, their motives were not purely selfish. Evan, who joined for love, and Lyall for loyalty to his friend. Severus, who joined for revenge but repented and risked his life, living a lie for fifteen years to atone for his mistakes. Even Gwydion, as corrupted as he became in the end, first joined because he wanted to help his brother. But you, Peter...you betrayed James and Lily to their deaths, let Sirius go to prison for your crimes..."

"I had no choice!" Wormtail cried. "He was going to kill me!"

"So you betrayed your friends to save yourself," Branwen said. "Cowardice was your motive, Peter, and that I cannot forgive."

"Shut up!" Wormtail shouted, and bent down to slap her hard across the face. "I don't have to take that from you anymore!" His wand fell to the ground as his silver hand closed around her throat. "I'll show you how strong I am, Professor. I don't even need magic to kill you."

Across the battlefield, Lupin barked urgently. Sirius turned around and saw Branwen lying prone on the ground, a dark-robed figure crouching above her. "BRANWEN!" he screamed, pelting across the field at breakneck speed. Snape and the others were running after him, but he quickly outdistanced them.

"Peter," Branwen whispered. Although she was struggling to breathe, she was smiling, and there was a cold, sinister gleam in her emerald-colored eyes. "Do you remember the rumors about me?"

"Yeah, that you had demon blood," he sneered, tightening his hand around her neck. "What of it?"

"They're true," Branwen whispered, still smiling. She clutched at his arm with one hand, and Wormtail's mocking laughter was quickly replaced by a shriek of pain as her long fingernails sank right through his sleeve and into his flesh.

Wormtail released her throat and tried to pull his arm free, but she was holding onto him with an iron grip, with a strength that could not possibly be human. "Let go of me!" he screamed, a frantic edge creeping into his voice. "What kind of monster are you, woman?!"

"I told you, Peter," Branwen said, with that terrifying smile, "I am a demon--the descendant of a Demon Prince. And demons do not need little sticks of wood to make magic." She whispered in a sibilant, melodious, and strangely hypnotic language Wormtail had never heard before.

The demonic magic her forefather Araqiel had taught Branwen began to take effect. Voldemort would have been envious if he had been watching, because with a brief incantation, Branwen cast essentially the same spell that had taken him months of research and the petals of the vampiric roses to develop. Wormtail let out a bloodcurdling scream as his former teacher literally drained the life out of him. He struck at her with his free hand, flailing wildly, then frantically looked for the wand he had so carelessly dropped when he had decided to strangle her. But it was too late; his struggles grew weak and feeble, then ceased altogether.

Branwen let Wormtail's lifeless body fall to the ground, and sat up, rubbing at her bruised throat. Sirius ran up to her, looking wild-eyed. He grabbed her by the shoulders, shouting, "Are you all right?!"

"Yes," she said. "I'm fine, Sirius. No need to fuss."

"You infuriating woman!" Sirius shouted. "That Summoning spell took more out of you than you let on, otherwise Pettigrew would never have gotten the drop on you like that! You could have been killed!"

Branwen was a little taken aback by the force of his rage. "Sirius, I--mmph!" Her eyes flew wide open as Sirius pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth.

"MERLIN'S BEARD!" Snape shouted, as he witnessed his former classmate kissing the Professor they had both lived in terror of as children. The children also stared in shock, Lupin wagged his tail, and Moody chuckled.

Branwen was too shocked to resist at first, then she wasn't sure she wanted to. She had persisted in thinking of Sirius as a child still, but pressed tightly against his chest with his lips on hers, she was faced with irrefutable evidence that he was no longer a little boy. She had been alone for a very long time, always keeping others at a distance, as Sirius had once carelessly and astutely pointed out. She could not remember the last time she had been held, the last time she had been kissed. No, that was not quite true...she had been courted by many of the demon men during her stay in Prince Araqiel's realm, but those had been minor flirtations and dalliances to pass the time. They had cared nothing for her, nor she for them. Sirius, as frustrating and stubborn and hotheaded as he could be at times, did care for her. She remembered how she had comforted him as he belatedly wept for his dead brother, and how he had comforted her in turn when she had been overwhelmed by guilt for the students she had been unable to save.

Sirius finally broke off the kiss, but he did not let go of her. His eyes were still frantic and his face was still a little pale. "Branwen...if I had lost you..." He choked up, unable to continue.

"Sirius," she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. Her fingers were still covered with Wormtail's blood, but neither of them seemed to notice. She smiled at him, her eyes filled with sorrow and joy and a touch of bewilderment. How strange, to discover love when one least expected it, in the midst of war and death. "When did you grow up?" she asked.

"I'm not exactly sure," he replied. "But it started when you came back into my life. You wouldn't let me take the easy way out; you wouldn't let me keep lying to myself. You challenged my Gryffindor notions of right and wrong." He grinned for a moment, then sobered. "I hated you for it, but I loved you for it as well. I...love you." As a teenager and a young adult, he had always been confident and smooth, assured of his charm and his ability to get any girl he wanted. But now he looked shy, awkward, and uncertain, yet totally sincere. Branwen decided that she liked him much better this way.

"I love you, too, Sirius," Branwen said softly.

"Like a son?" he asked, a bit suspiciously. "Or--" In answer, she gave him a very deep and unmotherly kiss. "Well," he gasped, looking a little dazed, "I guess that answers my question!"

An indignant squawk interrupted the two new lovers. "Bane!" Branwen exclaimed guiltily. "I forgot all about him!" She scooped up her wounded familiar and began fussing over him.

"I'm always playing second fiddle to that bird," Sirius said with a rueful smile.

Serafina came over to take a look at the raven. "His wounds aren't that bad, Professor. I can heal him for you."

"Thank you, dear," Branwen said gratefully.

The battle seemed to be more or less over, although it had taken a heavy toll on both sides. The giants were immobilized, most of the Death Eaters seemed to be dead or captured, but someone was missing...

"Where's Potter?" Snape asked sharply.

"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius, looking around frantically. "Where is he? I don't see him or Ron or Hermione or--"

"Or Voldemort," Snape finished grimly, the first time he had spoken his Master's name aloud since the Dark Lord had been resurrected. Defeating the giants and the Death Eaters didn't matter if Potter failed to defeat Voldemort...that was the only battle that truly mattered, and they had nearly lost sight of that in the heat of the moment.

As they headed off in search of Harry, four giants ran into view. Ron Weasley was riding on the shoulders of the lead giant, who was cradling Hermione Granger in his arms. "Stop!" Ron shouted, as a centaur nocked an arrow on his bow. "Don't shoot! They're friends!"

"Ron!" Dumbledore shouted. "Where's Harry?"

"That's what I've come to tell you! Harry ran off into the forest after You-Know-Who! We have to help him!"
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