Chapter 29: Crooked World

"So tell me then," Isolde von Albrecht purred, the lower half of her face drenched in blood. "What brings the Alpha of the Cabal to my domain?"

Ulric hated the idea of being in the vampire's den in Hell Pit. He hated the idea of dealing with the bloodsucking wretches in any way, shape or form, but unfortunately the situation called meeting with the nippleheads and their tart of a leader. The werewolf revolutionary had been raised on stories about the cruelty of the vampires; how they had taken to hunting lycanthropes for sport in ages past, how they had slaughtered numerous tribes in order to satisfy their bloodlust, and the old hatreds remained deeply rooted. Vampires were second only to wizards in their persecution of werewolves, a fact that he would never forget. Yet, if vampires were the lesser threat, the wizards were the former, thus necessitating a trip to his enemy's home. "Certainly not for the pleasure of your company. Tell me, Isolde, how exactly can you attract your victims now that the Ravenclaw scarred you?"

The Queen of the Gathering Dark snarled with frustration, and her numerous courtiers circled the werewolf menacingly. "Do not presume to mock me, Ulric, particularly regarding the Champion of Ravenclaw. For the injuries inflicted upon me, the brat will suffer a hundredfold agonies in return. As for my feeding habits," she said, gesturing to the dozen dead Muggles at her feet, their throats torn open, "I feast well enough. Now then, are you going to tell me why you have trespassed upon my court, or should we skip to the disembowelling?"

"You heard Voldemort's little speech during the summoning ritual."

"Of course. And I must say, the energies that emerged from the portal were rather…invigorating."

"Then you're probably wondering what Voldemort intends to do with us when his Crusade is complete. You've seen his preparations for war; you've heard his rhetoric about a perfect world. Care to guess if our respective peoples will have a place in it?"

"I'm not a fool, mongrel. I know full well that the Dark Lord distrusts us, and that he harbours intentions of betraying both our respective causes. He is a wizard, after all, and his kind and ours will always be at each other's throats. But so long as he aids me in bringing down the Ministry, then I shall obey his dictates."

Ulric gave a toothy smile. "So, what happens then? Presuming of course that the snake-head doesn't install a new Ministry to torment us…"

The vampire lady snarled in annoyance. "Is this some bizarre test of loyalty, mutt? Has the Dark Lord sent you here to probe me for information? I need not answer to a lowly mongrel such as yourself. I am the Queen of the Gathering Dark, and the night belongs to me and all my servitors. Perhaps you should seek a crippled puppy to match wits with, it would certainly be more at your level."

"It's always pride with the vampires, isn't it? They're never able to shut the hell up and listen to others for a change. Listen, you glorified streetwalker, and listen good! We both now that Voldemort won't be keeping his promises for long once he get what he wants, and the offensive he's planning is likely to mean victory for him. When that happens, you and I are simply two loose ends that he'll need to tie up, and before you can say 'fang', he'll have rounded us up to deal with along with the Muggles, and I don't need to remind you of what that will mean."

"Go on, Ulric," Isolde replied, her brown eyes narrowing dangerously. "You seem to have captured my attentions."

"If Voldemort is to bring us down, then I say we strike him first. When his plan has succeeded and the Ministry is no more, we must strike first before he has a chance to betray us. We must unite our forces and bring that monster down in his moment of triumph; else we might not live to see another night. What do you say? Do you have the courage to assist me with this?"

"Mayhaps."

"Mayhaps," Ulric repeated mockingly, balling his fists in anger. "We are not wizards, Isolde, and as such, their kind will never stop being a threat to us. If you value your people's survival, then you will aid me in this."

"Is that a threat?" the vampire hissed, the burns on the right side of her face stretching as she did so. "Once again, your impudence astonishes me."

"And your foolishness never ceases to. Now tell me, whose side are you on?"

Isolde smiled cruelly, her expression capable of chilling a dragon's heart. "Why, on the side of the victors, of course. Isn't that right, Lord Voldemort?"

To Ulric's horror, the Dark Lord himself appeared from behind Isolde's throne, his chest bare beneath open black robes, head lowered under a dark hood. The monstrous scars on his body, normally a hideous charred black, burned bright green as Voldemort calmly walked towards the treasonous werewolf, while the horde of vampires around him parted like the Red Sea. "Good evening, Ulric. Having second thoughts about our partnership?" the Dark Lord calmly asked, his blood red eyes glinting calmly under the hood. "Even after all I've done for you, and despite my repeated promises to help you destroy your enemies, you can't seem to trust me. And it is a terrible shame, really. I am about to usher in Eden, but it seems that you would rather die with the old world than prosper in the new. Do you have anything to add?"

Ulric didn't waste time calling out Isolde for her betrayal. Instead the old werewolf lunged for the Dark Lord, teeth bared as he might during a hunt. The fact that he was in human form didn't seem to concern him whatsoever; he was still a lycanthrope at heart, and the urge to tear and rend his foe at close range was unstoppable. Charging, Ulric slammed into an invisible shield surrounding Voldemort and was thrown back, his robes steaming from the violent contact. Again he attacked, but this time the daemonically-enhanced wizard simply intercepted him by swiftly seizing his throat, leaving him dangling in mid-air. "I'm very disappointed in you, Ulric. Here I was, planning on letting you have everything you wanted, when you decided to betray me. How very unfortunate. Right now, my Death Eaters have begun to corral your followers, both here and across Britain. You'll be glad to know that my tests on some of your followers have been successful. With a bit of daemon's blood, we'll be able to unleash the Metamorphosis upon your people."

"Bastard!" Ulric howled, impotent tears emerging in the corners of his eyes. "My people will be free. From all of you!"

"Of course, you'd be able to fight back if you could transform at will," Voldemort suggested, his red eyes boring holes straight through Ulric's soul. "That remains difficult at the moment, but my research has gone well, and with the power of Chaos at my command, nothing is impossible. You will bow down before the might of Chaos, Ulric Jaeger. You will submit to the Prophet of War, and you will be transformed, remade and reborn." Warpfire burst from the Dark Lord's strong hands. "Embrace the gifts of Chaos, Ulric, or embrace the extinction of your species!"

Ulric screamed as the fire began to reshape him, while Isolde watched the scene with perverse glee. The werewolf Alpha made sure to send one last angry thought towards his old rival before the warpfire consumed him completely…

"As we have seen," Stormfury lectured in a clear, cool voice, pointing to the labels written on the chalkboard, "the Cruciatus Curse is perhaps the most horrible of the Unforgivables, yet also the least. Recalling from last week's class, why is this so?"

As expected, Hermione answered first. "Because while the Cruciatus can cause severe mental damage, it has no physiological effect on the victim."

"Well done. Ms. Zabini, elaborate."

"No physical damage is inflicted upon the victim of the Cruciatus Curse, no bleeding, no trauma to the organs or muscle. There have been a few cases of victims succumbing to strokes or blood clots, but that was mostly due to existing health problems."

Stormfury paced around the room as if musing on their responses. Not for the first time, Harry found it strange how the Shadow Hunter could fit into the role of teacher so easily. It was as if a lever had been pulled, causing the vengeful and hot-tempered warrior-mage to turn into a philosophical, patient instructor, and inwardly he admired it. After all the battles he had faced, Harry often found himself growing detached from the rigors of education, and longed for a return to semi-normalcy. Though his marks were good and his notes well-kept, there was an impatience within him, a deep stirring of his soul, trapped between the mundane nature of ordinary wizarding life and the desire for combat, yet denied both. Stormfury seemed to keep these two halves in check, and the Champion desired a similar balance. For now though, he did what he could, taking extra care with his notes so he could make a legible copy for Cho. They had studied this already, but he understood how important knowledge was for her, and a little extra review would not go amiss.

The Shadow Hunter turned, addressing the class. "So then, knowing what Ms. Granger and Zabini have told us, what then can we infer regarding the Cruciatus Curse?"

Harry raised a hand. "It can be resisted, and it's not as powerful as some might think. It's still very dangerous and definitely worth having illegal, but you can reduce its effects."

"How might you go about doing this?"

The Champion pondered the question for a moment before responding. "Well, if it doesn't hurt your body and it's all in your mind, then maybe the pain doesn't actually exist? Maybe it's just something in your head that you can fight, that you can resist. If you don't think it hurts you, then maybe it doesn't?"

"Excellent. Twenty points to Gryffindor and another ten to Slytherin. Yes, while the Cruciatus Curse is one of the vilest spells ever conceived, its fatal flaw is the fact that it does not physically hurt the target. It was designed this way so that a skilled torturer might keep his subject alive for longer periods of time, allowing him to extract the most information. But it can be resisted, it can be fought, and a strong mind can reduce the pain inflicted. Now then, for next week, have your essays on the rise of your chosen Dark Lord completed. Remember, they are six feet long minimum," he reminded them, oblivious to the groans from the assembled students. "And keep in mind that critically analysing their methods and motivations are more important than simply reiterating their history, and I will be grading them as such!"

Dismissed thusly, the students began to pack up their bags and leave. "Will you be ready for the final exams?" Hermione posed to Harry, Blaise and Ron, throwing her prized messenger bag over her shoulder. "I can't believe it, really, soon we'll be in our final year!"

"Yeah, and then we'll have our N.E. to deal with," Ron groused. "Honestly, 'Mione, do you really enjoy school so much that you're excited for that?"

"It's a challenge, Ron, nothing to be frightened of. And it's a very important test, after all. Many of our future career opportunities will be dependent on it. If you're going to become an Auror, that's very important."

"Nah, bugger that. The twins say they'll have a place in the shop for me. At least until my Quidditch career gets rolling. Harry's the potential Auror here, so why don't you remind him about the test?"

Harry chuckled dryly. "Honestly, Ron, after this war is over, I plan on sleeping for about a full year. Being an Auror would be cool, but after all that's happened, part of me wants something a little quieter. What about you, Blaise?"

"For the past few summers, I've worked at a local Muggle radio station. Maybe there's a place there for me once I graduate."

"You won't stay in the Wizarding World?" Ron asked, puzzled.

Blaise snorted in disdain. "I'm perfectly capable of operating in both worlds, Weasley, but in all honesty, the Muggle one just seems to have more opportunities for me, and less of this apathy and decay that seems to be part and parcel of the Wizarding one. Let's face it, wizards haven't evolved or developed much since the days of the Founders. I just get the feeling that we're dying, and I don't want to be a part of that any more than necessary. So yeah, I'd live in the Muggle world and just use my magic privately." Her deep blue eyes caught Ron's disdainful expression and glared dangerously in response. "Just because I won't go to a Quidditch game every weekend or consider the Weasley twins to be the height of comedy doesn't make me any less of a witch, Weasley."

"What? I didn't say anything!"

"Sounds like an interesting career, Blaise," Harry said, eager to direct the conversation away from Ron and the Champion's sniping at one another. He hadn't experienced much in the way of radio over his childhood, but the scraps of music and discussion he heard interested him. "What sort of content will you play?"

Blaise beamed at Harry's interest in her plans, continuing, "Some music, but mostly issues of politics and news. I want those in power to tremble in fear at my voice, and I want to be a check and balance against the power-hungry and corrupt. If my time at Hogwarts has taught me anything, it's that people like those have to be confronted. So yeah, next year I'll do my N.E., and then I'll take my place as crusading radio host. After all, someone has to do it, right?"

"And I couldn't think of anyone better," Harry answered, drawing a contented smile from the Champion of Slytherin. "So, any plans for tonight?"

"Well, I'm going to have some flight time...What?" he asked a stern looking Hermione, her foot tapping impatiently. "Oh, yeah, right, me and 'Mione have something going on."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "If you'll excuse me, Harry, I have to knock some sense into my boyfriend. Good day!" With a bullet's speed, Hermione's hand flew over to Ron's right ear, and Harry and Blaise looked as she neigh-dragged him into the outer hallways, the boy's face registering his obvious discomfort. "Ronald Weasley, when I've through with you..."

"Poor fellow," Blaise remarked, laughing to herself. "It's a strange day when I find myself sympathizing with Weasley there. Are they usually like this?"

"Recently, they've been acting a lot more hostile to one another. Shame, really. I thought that after nearly six whole years of argument that they might have worked out their differences by now. I mean, it took a bit for Cho and I to work through all our problems and issues with one another, but if you think about it, that's made our relationship even stronger. With those two, it's like talking to a brick wall sometimes."

"It's funny..."

"What?" Harry asked, confused by the smirk emblazoning Blaise's lips.

Blue eyes turned towards him. "Normally, you emulate a lost puppy whenever you and Cho are apart and her name comes up, but you seem to be handling yourself quite well today. Did something happen between you two?"

"Nothing bad, if that's what you think," Harry explained, meeting Blaise's stride. "Cho and I talked it over before we left, and I'm not worried about what's going to happen with her and her parents. Well, okay, I'm a little worried, but I honestly don't think that Cho will have any problems with them. There's nothing that I can do to help her from here, and since I don't know her parents, I probably couldn't do all that much even if I was there. Cho is capable of handling herself, and she'll stick to her wands when she needs to. She'll be back in a day or two, and then we can put this whole Zhang mess behind us. Why should I worry?"

"That's actually really mature of you, Harry. Good to see that you're figuring out when to hold on and when to let go," Blaise stated, rubbing a stray crumb from the corner of her eye.

"I kinda have to, since Cho's graduating this year. We'll be staying in a relationship, but I'll have to accept the distance sooner or later, right?" Harry noticed the fatigued look his friend was currently sporting. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just tired," the Slytherin replied, giving a small yawn. "Haven't been sleeping well lately. Been thinking about my mother, and how she's dealing with the war. Dumbledore told me that she's under Order protection, but I can't help thinking that after all the arse I've kicked, the Death Eaters might have it out of her. As if marrying a Muggle wasn't enough!"

"But I thought your mother kept your blood status a secret, that you had worked out some way of disguising your Muggle-born heritage?"

"We did, but now that I'm more of a high-profile figure, Voldemort's probably figured it out by now!" she snapped, massaging her temples. "I'm sorry I snapped at you like that. It just that-"

"You've been pushing yourself hard lately, and you're worried for those you care about. Same here," Harry stated. "It's been going around lately, especially with what happened to Luna."

"Any change in her condition?" Blaise inquired.

Harry shook his head. "No, she's still in that coma and we have no idea when she'll come out of it. From what I saw in Ravenclaw Tower, she took more warpstone in one sitting than I'd seen Avalon take in five. And we still have no idea why she took it, or how she got her hands on it anyway!"

"It's a telepathic stimulant, right? Maybe she felt that there was something in the future she needed to see, not matter the cost. I wonder what if Luna showed any signs of being a prospective Seer before?"

"An interesting angle to consider. After I talk to Neville, I'll see what Professor Trelawney has to say on the matter. I'd rather not talk to her, but she's the only voice of authority on these things we have at the moment."

"I was wondering where Neville might be, he didn't show up in class after all. When you see him, will you send him my regards? I'll send the notes from class over to Cho, I doubt she'll need them, but just to make sure she doesn't miss a beat."

"Appreciate it, Blaise. Guess I'll see you tomorrow, then, huh?"

Blaise smiled. "Something like that. Good night, Mister Potter."

"Night, Blaise," Harry replied, watching her go. Musing for a moment why she seemed so concerned about Neville and Luna, the young Champion made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. If he had calculated the times right, then Cho should have left the Hogwarts Express by now...

A scholar of considerable skill and dedication, Cho Chang hated disruptions to her academic life. Quidditch, Harry and her combat training were all well and good, but once she set herself to completing some schoolwork or reading a book of interest, she liked to complete it before doing anything else, and despised any disturbances, no matter how well intentioned. So, by the time she left the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross and Apparated to the shielded entrances to Wizarding Limehouse, the Ravenclaw was quite cross at her parents for demanding her presence right before the N.E.W.T. crunch began. She had gotten most of her assignments done beforehand, and had gotten plenty of reading done on the ride home, but resented having to deal with the extra pressure on their behalf. Even Harry knew how much of a priority she put on her scholarship, and it pained her to realize that her parents showed no such considerations.

Yet, for all her grumblings, it was good to be home again. Sharp ears listened intently to a hundred different conversations in her second tongue, while the sharp tang of spices wafted through market stalls and alleyways, heady and aromatic. Much like Diagon Alley, Wizarding Limehouse was segregated from the Muggle areas of London by numerous protective enhancements and charms, allowing the community to exist in peace, shielded from Muggle eyes. The district had been founded during the first great wave of Chinese immigration to Britain, and its first inhabitants swiftly found the racist attitudes held by British Muggles also extended to their wizarding counterparts, forcing them to join together for mutual security and commerce. Centuries had passed, yet the community still maintained their relative seclusion from their neighbours, as well as preserving their distinct language and architectural style. Katana slung at her side, bags shrunk and hoisted over her shoulder, and wand in the holster, the Champion took her time as she walked towards her parent's considerable estate. Shopkeepers and young children greeted her from the sidewalk, and she took the time to respond, content in this instant to forget about Zhang and her parents and everything, letting her senses dwell in the moment. The comforting sensation fell over her like mist over a tranquil valley, and Cho allowed herself to enjoy it.

Then someone caught her eye, a young Caucasian man, at least ten years older than she was, quite distinct from the marketgoers with his bright-red hair tied up in a ponytail, and his wiry, gangling gait. With a smile, Cho realized who it was. "Bill!"

"Hello again, Cho," the eldest Weasley son greeted her, setting aside the shopping bags for the moment. "How are you doing?"

"Decent, all things considering. What are you doing here? Not that I'm displeased, of course, but it's just so rare to see outsiders in Wizarding Limehouse. Is it a duty with the group, or did you just like the neighbourhood?"

Bill smiled. "Do the two have to be mutually exclusive?" he asked, getting a laugh from the girl. Taking up his bags once more, he walked alongside her, keeping his voice low so as to thwart any spies who might be listening in. A hand gripped her arm, and Cho felt his wand brush her abdomen. "What's your Patronus?"

The girl had expected the question, and answered promptly. "A swan, of course." Cho fixed the older man with a hard stare. "And I'm afraid I don't know your Patronus, so you'll have to ask me something else," she whispered.

Bill chuckled to himself. "No need. Take a look at this." Releasing her for a moment, the Order volunteer unbuttoned his right cufflink and pulled back his shirt to expose the wrist. Cho stared in wonder as a luminous phoenix shape burned cold against his flesh, before fading out and leaving only a pale outline. Under his watchful eye, Cho caressed the Mark, feeling the Light energies bound into its matrix responding to her presence. "Think any Death Eater could wear something like this?"

"Absolutely not," Cho answered, tracing the symbol one last time before withdrawing. "When did the group get these? It must have taken you some time to create the spell, particularly in order to establish the synergistic bonds between the Mark and the wearer."

"Several months, actually. We only just began applying them to the group's members about six weeks ago. If you thought our security was tight before, think again. Once the Phoenix Mark has been applied, disloyalty and maybe even treason towards the group can be found and stopped before it cripples the entire Order." Cho gave Bill a worried look, causing him to add: "It doesn't exactly control you or your thoughts. But if you do have intentions of betraying the Order, then the Mark lets Dumbledore know."

Cho frowned at this prospect. Strategically, it was a good idea, as it made sure that the Order members could be trusted. All the same, she didn't trust Dumbledore to the extent that many in the Wizarding World did, and for the old man to control yet another source of power left a sour feeling in her gut. Shoving that thought aside for the moment, Cho turned to the matter at hand. "Now that we can both confirm our identities, I must again ask: what are you doing here, Bill? Are you living here, and for how long?"

"Dumbledore has deployed a squad of the Order to Wizarding Limehouse in order to keep your family safe. Intimidation and threatening loved ones was a key tactic used by Voldemort in the last war, and given how much damage you've done to his forces, we felt that he might take the opportunity to get some leverage over you."

"And has he?"

Bill sighed. "No, but your old man ain't making our job any easier, that's for sure. We offered to install permanent anti-Apparation wards over the grounds and secure the Floo network, but he refused to let us. He wouldn't even let us put in Wards of Hostile Intent to alert us to any Death Eaters on the premises. No offense, Cho, but your father is a real hardarse. And now, because of his stubbornness, the squad and I have to work doubly hard to make up for the lack of defences."

The Ravenclaw squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "That sounds like my father alright. He's incredibly bullheaded at times, and when he sets his mind on something, he rarely changes it. I'm sorry you've had to put up with this extra burden on the behalf of myself and my family, Bill. I'll try talking to my father tonight about being more cooperative."

"Hey, it's not your fault, Cho, and at the very least, it keeps me away from the Burrow. The lack of defences hasn't been an issue so far, but I don't like taking chances, especially since Harry will skin me for a rug if something were to happen to you."

Cho laughed. "Bill Weasley, the wild and adventurous Cursebreaker of Gringotts. When did you become so responsible?"

The eldest of the Weasley sons shrugged, scratching his head as he considered his answer. "To be honest, I'm not exactly sure. As a Cursebreaker, I was responsible to no one but myself and the management at Gringotts, and I didn't have to put anyone else in harm's way. Maybe it's just my new duties with the group, or the engagement that's making me so cautious."

"Whatever the reason, it's not such a bad thing, given how the war is going. How is Fleur?"

At the mention of Fleur, Bill gave a cocky smile. "Beautiful, happy, and three weeks pregnant," he said, seeing Cho's hands fly over her mouth in shock. "Just another reason to be responsible, I guess. A kid has to grow up with parents, after all, and I intend on seeing this thing through. Of course now, Mum's making a big fuss about it, but that's just who she is, I guess."

"Well, congratulations Bill! I'm very happy for both of you. I assume that the wedding is still planned for this summer?"

"Yeah, though at the rate my relationship with Mum is deteriorating, it will end up being a simple service. Mum and I had a great big row about it, but such is life. And how are you and Harry doing?"

"Good, very good," Cho replied, a slight blush suffusing her cheeks. "It's a shame that all this nonsense with Zhang has to happen, but we'll deal with it. Harry and I have come too far and conquered too many of our personal demons to let no outsider interfere in our relationship. Hopefully, tonight I'll be able to make that clear to both Zhang and my parents."

"Sounds like a plan, kid. Listen, Fleur's probably wondering what's taking me, so I'll see you around. Good luck tonight, huh?"

"Of course. And thank you," the young woman said, watching with a wistful smile as Bill departed, heading back to home and lover. It's good to see him so happy, despite the war and all his troubles, Cho thought to herself, continuing towards her parent's estate. Admittedly, she wasn't all that close to Bill, but from what she had seen, he didn't exactly seem like the type to settle down and raise a family. Perhaps the war had changed his priorities, grounded him in a way, for good or for ill. And Fleur? From what she had seen, the fight against Voldemort has forced her to become more confident with her magic, more willing to take risks.

And what about her? How would the Cho Chang of years past, somewhat shy, hesitant and lonely, consider the more confident and determined young woman she was now? Could her younger self, broken by Cedric's death and unable to move past, even communicate on the same level? Cho stopped herself, halting that ridiculous train of thought in its tracks. Intelligence, compassion, kindness, an inquisitive nature; these were the values instilled in her, and these were the values she possessed to this day. Cedric's death and the war had simply tempered the mix with fire and steel. Maybe Cedric dying even made me a better person, Cho thought to herself, a horrifying idea on the surface but possibly one with merit. She had discussed fighting personal demons with Bill. Perhaps the death of her first love had finally forced her to confront the greatest of her all inner foes; her own insecurity. Enough of such things, Cho told herself, quickening her pace. Let's just get this done and over with, so I can go back to doing something important!

"So then, Mister Snape," Minister Bones said, her right eye peering suspiciously through the monocle she always wore. "Tell us about this base Voldemort has established."

Even as Cho approached the palatial gates of her family's home, Harry and Blaise were occupied with another matter, namely a strategy session with the rest of the commanders of Light-aligned forces in Britain. The meeting had been called on short notice, and Severus Snape wasted no time in addressing the assembled council. "Voldemort is withdrawing from his main base, an old coal mine several kilometres northeast of Shorncliffe. The mine was abandoned by the Muggles ten years ago, and since this war began, the Dark Lord has reclaimed it as his main base of operations. The mine is well-protected by a series of defensive wards and anti-Apparation spells, but today, it has become vulnerable now that Voldemort has largely deserted the place."

"Why?" Blaise asked. "I mean, why abandon his main base? As far as I know, we didn't even know this place existed before five minutes ago, and it'd be a lot of hassle shipping up all his troops and supplies to a new position. Why pull out?"

"Voldemort must know that we are gaining the initiative," Stormfury commented, arms folded tightly about him. "Each day, the Ministry makes greater progress in securing the support of foreign governments, and every week, more fighters from abroad come to assist the Aurors, Shadow Hunters included. Perhaps he felt that his position would eventually be discovered and overrun if this continued."

The newcomer to their gathering nodded her head, the sharp eyes of a hunter glancing at the other participants, as if gauging their strengths and weaknesses. Maryam Qadir was the Captain of the Saladin Legion, the premier soldiers of the Mesopotamian Circle, the state that governed the wizarding sections of the Arab world. Since arriving in England several months before, Qadir and the Legion had seen more than their share of the fighting, that and her status as head of the Legion justifying her place at the table. "That may be true. But if he is pulling his forces from this stronghold, where are they to be relocated? The Death Eaters and the groups they have inspired have diffused their forces in urban environments and established cells of warriors throughout England before. If Voldemort succeeds in doing this on a much larger scale, then it will be difficult to locate and destroy them all," she cautioned in near-perfect English.

"I believe that his choice of stronghold was due less to tactical concerns, and more due to the presence of the Chaos Stones buried within the mine," Snape elaborated, describing the insane ritual Voldemort had undertaken, as well as the eight arcane monoliths he had used to do so.

When he was done, it took Harry every part of willpower he had not to gasp at his revelations. How are we going to defeat him now? he mused inwardly, forcing himself to remain calm. "Wait a second. You said the ritual didn't work? Then what was it supposed to do?"

Snape gave his usual sneer at Harry's question, but responded nonetheless. "Voldemort had intended on using the Chaos Stones to bring through Kharaidon, one of the daemonlords we have heard about. In return for granting the creature access to Earth, it would grant immortality to the Dark Lord. Beyond that, I'm not sure. Voldemort has kept me at arms' length for the most part, so I cannot tell you more."

At the mention of the daemonlord's name, Stormfury gripped the hilt of his sword with such force that the wood began to creak. "Do you recognize this name, Daelin?" asked Dumbledore, looking down at the Shadow Hunter along his long nose.

"I do. Kharaidon is the God of War amongst the daemonlords. His presence as an ally of Voldemort confirms our worst fears; that the Dark Lord has been consorting with these creatures intensively and had aligned his fortunes with theirs. We are fortunate then that the ritual was not successful, for the mere entrance of Kharaidon onto this world would result in cataclysmic devastation." He turned to Snape then, blue eyes hard and cold. "What prevented him from being successful?"

"Apparently, not enough magical power to fuel the portal," Snape suggested, his jaw tingeing in memory of the blow Stormfury had inflicted upon him. "From what I have learned, Voldemort is relocating the bulk of his forces to an old castle in Wales built upon several smaller lay lines, with the Chaos Stones to follow. There, he hopes that the additional magical energies present will cause the portal to stabilize. At present, most of his troops are at this castle, but the Chaos Stones themselves are still within the Hell Pit under a reasonably small guard led by Voldemort himself. They are vulnerable, and the Dark Lord has left himself upon to attack."

"For how long?" Bones asked.

"Four, five hours at the most," Snape responded quickly, anticipating the question. "It's a small window, I realize, but I was unfortunately not able to return any sooner with the Dark Lord's eyes watching me. Right now, Voldemort is waiting for his dragons to arrive to fly the Stones towards his new base. We may never get as good an opportunity as this to strike."

Stormfury stroked his chin in a thoughtful manner. "What is the composition of his forces within Hell Pit at the moment?"

The Potions Master thought for a moment. "No more than a hundred active Death Eaters present. The vampires and werewolves have already been sent out, as have most of the giants. The Death Eaters have been gathering up corpses lately for use by their necromancers, but most of these have been shipped to the castle and none should remain by the time we assault. At present, Hell Pit has been stripped to the bones."

"Sounds vulnerable," Harry stated.

"Perhaps even too vulnerable," Blaise questioned sceptically. "Voldemort must have some defences in place against this sort of thing! It seems too tempting a target."

"Anti-Apparation wards extend up to a full mile in every direction, while defensive spells to ensure against direct attack, though without the Death Eaters to maintain them, the latter will have been weakened enough that we could launch such an assault," Snape reiterated. "Believe me, Miss Zabini, when I say that I would not been here suggesting an attack if I did not think it to be capable of success. Moreover, it is a genuine withdrawal, and I find the possibility of a trap unlikely. Voldemort has been obsessing over the Chaos Stones, and this inattention to the rest of his plans and forces in clear to see, and has delayed the Death Eater withdrawal."

Madam Bones nodded, addressing the gathered conclave. "There is indeed a risk here, but the rewards are worthwhile. I intend of taking advantage of this opportunity while the window is still open. The Aurors will assault Hell Pit, what about the rest of you? It will require the bulk of our forces to defeat him, but I am confident that together, we can destroy Voldemort once and for all."

"I can promise the support of the Order, Minister Bones," Dumbledore answered. "But I cannot commit all of them, for even if Riddle is killed, the remaining Death Eaters will surely attempt to take their revenge upon the citizens, and someone must be there to defend them."

"I'll leave a few companies behind to maintain public safety, but I want that bastard dead, Dumbledore. I don't care how many it takes, if we can cut off the serpent's head here, then we can cripple the Death Eaters and perhaps even end the war."

"The Shadow Hunters will stand with you, Minister," Stormfury told her, a nasty smile dawning on his face, the kind that usually signalled one of his infamous battle-rages. "All those of my order who fight in Great Britain will come with you to Hell Pit. The battle will be fierce, but the cause just and the honour beyond measure. We will come."

Qadir nodded in affirmation. "The Saladin Legion will also support your attack, Madam Minister. I can commit seventy of my fighters to the assault, the rest are either too wounded to participate or are left guarding specific targets."

"The Ministry of Magic is grateful to the Mesopotamian Circle for all your efforts in aiding us, Captain Qadir. Any soldiers you could spare would be appreciated," Bones replied diplomatically, before turning her attentions towards the Champions. "And what about the two of you? Will you join us in this mission?"

"I won't speak for Blaise, Minister, but I'd certainly be happy to help you guys out. If Snape's info is true, then you will need the extra help. Besides, this fight has been a long time coming and if I'm not willing to face Voldemort myself, then who will?"

The willowy Slytherin jumped right in, entirely unafraid and unwilling to miss such a battle. "Count me in as well. Let's put an end to this monster!"

Bones frowned for a moment, recalling that there had been three Champions in their last meeting. "And where is Miss Chang? I had assumed that she would be present and prepared for the battle as well."

"Cho is at her parent's house for her birthday tonight," Harry explained, shrinking back slightly in the face of Bones' bewildered and somewhat angry stare. "It wasn't exactly her idea, to be sure. Let's tell her about the attack, and I'm sure that she'll be ready to come as well, party or no party."

"There is simply no time!" Snape roared, rather vehemently in Harry's admittedly subjective opinion. "The Dark Lord's forces are packing up, and soon Voldemort and the Chaos Stones will be out of our grasp. I f we are to succeed, then we must strike now!"

Bones adjusted her monocle as she considered the issue. "I'm inclined to agree with Mister Snape here, Mister Potter. It will be trouble enough rallying our own forces without tipping off Voldemort to our plans without bringing in Miss Chang from her own birthday party. The success of this attack will depend upon surprise, and one intercepted letter or Floo transmission could spell the death of us. I'm sorry, but Miss Chang will have to remain behind. We'll take what forces we can rally together quickly and then head out, but if the daughter of a prominent businessman and a major figure in the forces of Light herself suddenly abandons her birthday party without warning, then eyebrows will be raised and the operation may be compromised."

"Minister..."

"I'm sorry, Mister Potter, but my decision is final. Headmaster Dumbledore, Captain Qadir, Praetor Stormfury, I will trust that you will have your forces ready to move out within the hour. Mister Snape, do you have a rally point from which we can attack Hell Pit?"

"Here," Snape said, pointing to a large map detailing the area around the mine. Hell Pit had been rendered Unplottable by the Death Eaters, but a few subtle modifications he had made to its defences left the mine visible upon the chart. "It's a large clearing within the forests near the mine, about a mile from the main entrance. It's far enough away that the sentries do not travel there, and will be perfect for our needs."

"Then it's settled. One hour, ladies and gentlemen, so move quickly. Mister Potter, Miss Zabini, I expect to see you there," Bones ordered coldly as she gathered up her cloak. "Auror-Captain Tonks will be your liaison officer with you on the ground, and will help to coordinate the attack with your respective forces. Will she be acceptable?" she asked, receiving nods all around in response. "Good. I must return to the Ministry now, but good luck. If you are successful, then the wizarding world might know peace by the break of dawn tomorrow."

When the Minister had left, Harry turned towards the others, exploding, "She has the guts to stand here and tell me that Cho should get the chance to fight, all the while she's going to lounge back in her office at the Ministry? Unbelievable!" Inwardly, Harry burned at the chance to end Voldemort's life forever, but a note of caution remained. "It's a mistake to leave Cho behind. We're going to hit the heart of the Death Eaters, and we'll need all the magic we can get. Cho should be here."

It took all of his self-restraint to keep from blasting Snape into atoms as the Potions Master replied, "My apologies then that your amorous advances will have to be cut short, Potter. Perhaps Miss Zabini here can offer some small comforts to you." Snape's dark eyes flickered, and there was no confusion over what he meant. Before Harry could lunge at his tormentor, Snape turned to Dumbledore, saying, "I must prepare some potions for our troops going forward, Headmaster. If you will excuse me..."

"I would have you join our forces in their assault, Severus," Dumbledore interjected, seemingly oblivious to Snape's shocked expression. "There may be many Dark artefacts scattered throughout Voldemort's lair, and they will need someone who can identify and secure them safely."

"Headmaster!" Snape began to protest, but Dumbledore raised a hand and the Potion Master's voice died away even as his lips continued moving. Shooting the Silenced professor a withering glare, Dumbledore turned to Harry, the infuriating twinkle in his eyes ever-present. "Harry, you would be averse to allowing Professor Snape to join you in your attack?"

"As long as he promises to behave himself, then sure, he can come," Harry replied. "About time he did something useful."

Snape's eyes were murderous as he tracked Harry and Blaise's departure, and immediately upon Dumbledore lifting the Silencing Charm from him, he could not contain his temper any longer. "Damn that foolish boy, Dumbledore! I'm not going to stand for his insolence any longer! Something useful? I have sworn my life to the Order's cause and the death of Voldemort, and that strutting peacock of a wasteful considers that nothing!" The Potions Master was close to frothing at the mouth by this point, Harry's words having opened up the old wounds left by his father and Black. "I swear to you, Dumbledore, when this is all over, that boy will regret ever stepping foot in Hogwarts. I don't care if he is the Boy Who lived or not, I will not suffer this disrespect any longer!"

"Severus!" Dumbledore boomed, putting an end to his rant. "I am confident in Mister Potter's abilities to succeed in his mission, just as I am grateful for all the good service you have done to the Order. As for the matter of respect, Harry has mine, while you are rapidly losing it. Do not think that you have repaid your debt to society or to me, Severus Snape. Go to fight alongside the Order. Do as I have instructed you, and you will regain the honour you lost when you joined the Death Eaters."

"And after all I've done..." Snape hissed. "After all the sleepless nights, all the times I endured the Dark Lord's presence to retrieve information for you, all the times I risked my life so that I might bring Lily's killer to his end, am I still to be treated like some medieval vassal. Like some dog that you can order around as you please? And what you've asked-"

Dumbledore gave a pleasant smile, and Snape resisted the urge to hit him. "You have been a most valued ally to me, Severus, and I wish that your life had more reflected the goodness I see in you. Yet this war is about to reach its climax, and I must ensure that everyone plays their part in Voldemort's defeat. Carry out the instructions I have given you, Severus, for they are critical to the outcome of this war. Good evening." And with that, Dumbledore put quill to parchment and did not say another word.

"So that's the situation," Harry said, finishing up his briefing for the leaders of the Army of the Marauders. The Inner Circle had definitely seen better days. With Cho absent and Luna still unresponsive, gaps had emerged in the strategic planning and leadership of the Army, and as much as Katie Bell and Hannah Abbott tried to fill them, they still remained. Daphne Greengrass, who had proven to be vital in the Army's rout of the Brotherhood, joined in as well, as she would take command of the Infiltrators while Blaise joined the attack on Hell Pit. Harry would trust each of them with his life and the safety of Hogwarts, and tonight, he would ask them just that. "Dumbledore and Minister Bones think that we'll be able to end this war tonight, and as much as I want to believe them, we have to be prepared for the worst."

"What do you need from us, mate?" Ron asked, excited at the idea of finally defeating Voldemort. "You want the Army to come and help out?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not willing to risk all of your lives in there, Ron. From what Snape said, not that he's always right, this place is Voldemort's headquarters, and while most of his forces won't be there, there will be enough to cause trouble. I won't have you all get killed going into his home turf."

"So, you expect us to cool our heels then, and just sit by, waiting for you to return?" Ginny demanded petulantly, quite unlike the squad leader she was. "Harry, we joined the Army to help fight Voldemort and protect this school. Don't ask us to turn our backs now."

"I don't plan to, Ginny," Harry answered, fixing each man or woman present with a hard glare. He was exceptionally proud of them, for all their hard work and training over the past school year. They were the best of the Marauders, but now he would ask them to obey the hardest order he had ever given; the order to stay behind. "You're right; the Army of the Marauders has been assembled to help protect the school, so that's what you'll do. As of this moment, the entire Army is on alert, and will start patrolling the grounds and the castle itself for any signs of Death Eater activity. Stormfury is pulling every Shadow Hunter in England off to fight, so there will just be you and the squad of Aurors here to protect the castle. Let's send two-person teams on set patrol routes throughout Hogwarts, and have a squad in reserve in case anything big does break out. Sound fair to everyone?"

Susan Bones spoke up. "What about having separate watches? At any one point, we'd have some of the Army resting and the others out on patrol. That would reduce fatigue, and those resting could easily be woken up in case of an emergency."

"Not a bad idea," Hermione chimed in. "After all, we've all had a full day of school behind us. Cutting it down to two shifts will keep us rested and alert."

Others in the Inner Circle gave their agreement, and Harry turned to the one member who had not spoken; a rather lonely figure who cradled his head in thick hands. "What do you think, Neville? Two watches sound alright to you?"

A moment passed, and every eye turned on the leader of the Indefatigable. "I'll take first watch. Heck, I'll take every watch you can give me, Harry. I'm up for it." His voice sounded pained, and everyone present knew that Luna's condition had deeply unsettled him, Neville's determined reserve beginning to crack thanks to this latest tragedy. Harry made a mental note to talk to him afterwards.

A schedule was quickly devised, the watches set and the various squads and commanders given their orders. As the group prepared to go about their business, Harry gave some final, chilling words for them to consider. "If the worst happens, and we die tonight, then the rest of you have to keep fighting. We can't stop until Voldemort is beaten, nothing else matters. Hermione, Ron, you're the charge of the Army until we return, but if we don't, it's up to you to finish this." The Champion held up his hands as if to forestall the inevitable protests. "We have to be prepared for that. Understood?"

"You won't fail, Harry," Hermione reassured him. "We'll keep Hogwarts safe tonight, I promise."

The meeting was adjourned, and the officers quickly left to mobilize their troops. "Stay with me a moment, Neville," Harry asked, ushering his friend to one side. "Are you going to be okay? You and Luna are pretty close, and I need to know that her condition won't put you off of your game."

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing regarding Cho," Neville replied with a humourless smile. "Don't worry, Harry, I'm not an infant. You want me to guard the castle, I can do that. You want me to fight the Death Eaters, I can do that. It'll keep my mind off her, to be honest."

"Don't worry, Neville, we'll find some way to help her. Between the lot of us, I'm sure we ca-"

"Don't bloody patronize me!" came Neville's bitter retort, and Harry's expression reflected shock as the Gryffindor turned on him. "We still have no bloody idea how to help Luna, and without your psychic teacher around, she's only going to get worse! You're off fighting Voldemort without us, Cho's at her bloody birthday party, and Dumbledore just don't care!" The Gryffindor checked himself, putting a hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Harry, it's just..."

"I know, Neville, I know. I just need you sharp out there tonight, okay? It's a lot to ask when all this is going on, but I know you can do it."

Neville nodded, composing himself. "Yeah, I can handle it, Harry. I can. You got my word on that."

"And that's all I need, Neville. Good luck tonight."

"You too, Harry. I appreciate it." The Gryffindor tripped over his words, as if he was trying to say something more, but froze up and exited.

Poor Neville, Harry considered as he leaned back against the wall and breathed a sigh of regret. Neville had come so far in the past year, and he hated to see a good friend suffer like that, particularly given the demands of leadership placed upon him. Still, there was little Harry could do about it. The host of the Light had nearly assembled, and he could not spend any time soothing the hurts of his friends, regardless of how much he wished so. Adjusting his dragon-hide battle robes, the Champion of Gryffindor moved to leave, only to stop dead at the of Ginny barring the doorway. "What is it, Ginny? It's about time for me to go, so if you need something, try and make it quick, okay?"

"I'm coming with you," Ginny stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as if daring Harry to object. "I'm a good fighter, and you'll need the best if you're going to kill Voldemort."

"Ginny, I told you all this before..." Harry began.

The scarlet-locked girl cut him off sharply. "You don't get it, do you? After what he did to me, after everything that's happened, I have to fight him! I have to be there when you bring him down, Harry, I just have to! Parvati can lead my squad, but I'm going, and that's final."

"No, Ginny, it's not final," Harry snapped, watching her face redden in anger. "I need you here tonight, and so do your troops. You're a squad leader, you can't just run out on them because of your personal concerns. Listen, I know what you're going through, and I understand why you want to bring him down, but I told the others that the Army is for defending the school. If I bring you, I'll have to bring everyone, and that would leave the place exposed. The students need you here."

"Bullocks!" came the retort. "We have plenty of people here, Harry. Besides, if you are so concerned about having squad leaders here, then why are Cho and Blaise gone, huh?"

Harry bristled at her accusation, knowing she had a point but damned if he would let it show. "Blaise goes with me because she's a Champion, and Cho is gone because she must. Believe me, if she knew, she would be with us."

"And the fact that you're sleeping with one of them has nothing to do with it. Right."

"Ginny..."

"I need to do this, Harry. It's more important than you realize."

Harry shook his head. "No, Ginny. Stay here and lead the Hellions."

"But-"

"That's an order, Ginny!" Harry barked, watching with a measure of shame as she shrunk back in the face of his rebuke. "Let me make this perfectly clear; you have a duty to your troops and a duty to me, and you will do that duty by staying here and making sure Hogwarts is safe. And if that's too much trouble for you, then kindly say so, and I'll have someone else more suitable lead your squad. Clear?"

The anger subsided, and all was silent. Then Ginny spoke, tears springing, and her voice trembled with shame and rage. "You're a fool, Harry Potter, and she's a fool for loving you. You will regret this." Turning on her heel, the girl stormed out. Harry watched her go, as much disappointed with himself as with her. Like Neville, this would all have to be put aside. Battle called, and Harry could not refuse.

Cho Chang was bored, and dreadfully so. The lavish gardens and sitting rooms of her parent's estate were teeming with guests, and the buzz of a hundred conversations reached her ears, yet not one of them appealed to the unhappy eighteen-year old, flowing around her like water through the rocks. It was the usual pureblood politicking and gossip, with not a mention made to the development of new spells, the war, Quidditch or a good book. Taking the well-wishes and congratulations of friends and relatives in polite, if distant stride, the Champion of Ravenclaw was simply too tense and nervous to enjoy herself, and not even the tall glass of rich red wine in her hand worked to soothe her psyche. "Calm down, daughter," the slender Mrs. Song Chang told her shaky offspring, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Zhang will be here soon, and then you'll get the chance to finally meet him in person. Please, do relax. Enjoy yourself! You're only eighteen once, my dear, so take the time to treasure it." Beaming with pride, the older woman cast a maternal glance at her daughter. "You look wonderful tonight."

"Thank you, mother," Cho replied obediently, remarking inwardly that in her final statement, her mother was accurate. The fine blue silk qipao hugged her athletic figure possessively, and was made from the finest silks available, while a professional hair-dresser had arranged her raven locks in the most stylish of pureblood fashions. Nothing was too good for his daughter, Han Chang had remarked, especially for her eighteenth birthday, and the old businessman could not resist showing off her beauty to his associates and family relations. Cho, meanwhile, took it all in stride. Once she turned in for the night, her hair would come down and she would slip into something a bit more practical, but for the moment, she was content.

"My daughter, crown jewel of my life!" Han had crowed when the girl came down from her room, dressed and pampered, perfect lips painted with scarlet. "It is a great day for her, and for my family. Cho is eighteen today, and has firmly stepped on the path of womanhood. Offer her your thanks and congratulations, especially since she will be meeting her intended tonight as well. To you, Cho! I am very proud of you, and may all your years afterwards be happy ones."

It had been a sincere statement of joy and pride, and Cho appreciated the fact that her parents wished only the best for her. But the fact remained that her engagement to Zhang had not taken her feelings into account, and that Zhang remained unworthy of her affections. It was a hard truth for them to consider, but it was the truth, and it had to be told. Now, Cho was rallying the courage to tell her parents this. It wasn't an easy thing; planning to defy one's parents and actually doing it were like night and day, and the situation was not made any less tense by the plethora of aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, business relations, old childhood friends and other guests who approached her to remark on her beauty, offer joy for her birthday, or congratulate her engagement. Inwardly, Cho resented that they didn't congratulate her for leading the Ravenclaw team to winning the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup, or for being accepted to the College of Sages after a strenuous and difficult application process, or being a major figure in the resistance against Voldemort's campaign. Instead, it was all about her looks or her capacity to give birth to a brood of pureblood children. How entirely typical, Cho thought, taking another sip of the wine. The liquid was supposed to calm her nerves, but it wasn't helping, and Cho had been too caught up in the celebrations for her to address her parents on the issue, only heightening her anxieties. Taking a deep breath, Cho strode up to her parents, trying to assume the confident gait of pureblood nobility even as her legs turned to jelly. "Mother, Father, I must speak with you in private for a moment," she declared imperiously, receiving a confused and somewhat annoyed glare from Han in response. Setting aside her drink, Cho said, "It is about my upcoming arrangement to Zhang. With respect to both of you, I believe that you are making a mistake. Zhang is the child of our enemies, the same enemies that drove us from China and forced us to come here. Moreover, he has not demonstrated that he is worthy of either my hand or my affections. Please reconsider this, for I do not wish to see him, nor do I feel that he would be a good husband to me."

Han Chang frowned at his daughter's sudden protest. "Cho, your mother and I have spent a great deal of time and effort resolving the situation, and we are certain that Zhang will be an excellent match for you. He is of a good family, has some good prospects and is of good blood lineage. A union of our two houses will ensure that our family's financial situation remains strong, and our fortunes will continue to prosper. You must trust us, daughter, for we know what is best for you. A marriage between yourself and Zhang will keep you safe from the horrors of this idiotic war, and ensure that you never known sickness or want. It is the right decision."

Do they not know what I have accomplished? Cho thought, aghast. Do they not know what I have seen, all the evils committed on the orders of Voldemort? They believe a marriage can hide me from it?

Han's hand cupped his daughter's cheek, bringing her eyes level with his. "Zhang will be good for you, Cho, a fresh start after all of the tragedies you have suffered. England has brought nothing but sadness for you, my daughter, and your relationships with Diggory and Potter have brought you nothing but hurt. Time to set them aside, and embrace a new beginning."

"But..." Cho had refrained from telling her parents about the renewed relationship and affections between herself and Harry, and that seemingly prudent decision now had backfired in a big way. "It's not like that!"

"We know you are anxious about your engagement, daughter," Song said, placing her hands upon Cho's shoulders to still her. "This is why we invited Zhang to come here tonight, so you could get to know each other better. If he behaves in a disgraceful manner unbefitting our family, then we will reconsider our plans for you, but in truth, I doubt Zhang will dishonour himself or any other. We have chosen well, my daughter, and if it was the wrong choice, then we will set things right."

By choosing another against my will. And another and another...It would never end, she understood, unless she put a stop to it right now. Maybe I can convince them to offer my hand in marriage to Harry! she considered, her Ravenclaw mind examining all possible escape routes from Zhang's clutches. After all, Harry was pureblood, rich, from a good family, if one that hadn't travelled in the same circles as her own before that fateful night. Moreover, if it was her safety that she was concerned about, then why not tell them about the energies of the Founders? One would think that such knowledge would be enough to placate her parents, and cause them to sponsor Harry as a prospective husband over Zhang.

The idea was tempting, but Cho rejected it, angry at herself for even considering it. She had fought long and hard to achieve greater independence from her parents and stop this arranged marriage, but now was contemplating an embrace of that system of misogyny and control, just to be with Harry. She had stood for women's rights and against the patriarchal excesses of pureblood wizards since she was old enough to form a conscious political opinion, and would not abandon her values just for the sake of convenience. She would marry Harry in her own fashion, not be bound by strict patriarchial guidelines that demanded a woman remain subservient. Inwardly furious, Cho made sure that no one was looking, then pitched the remaining wine into one of her mother's ornamental shrubs.

"He's here, Cho!" her mother cried, delicate hands gripping her arm. "Zhang is here!" Cho caught a glimpse of her father ushering newcomers into the hall, and then she saw him.

The first thing that Cho noticed about Zhang was his hair; jet-black and greased back along his skull until it resembled an obsidian dome moulded to his head. Like her own garments, his robes were well-cut and made of fine blue silk, while perfect white teeth grinned as he saw his intended. Strong hands clasped her own, and his facial features were quite handsome, as much as she hated to admit it. Zhang held himself up with a proud, almost arrogant bearing, and his voice was rich and cultured as he spoke. "Miss Cho Chang, it is an honour to finally meet you, and on such a grand occasion as this. Your parents have spoken very highly of you, but even they seemed to underestimate both your beauty and your elegance. I only hope that tonight will be the first of many meetings before us, and that you find me worthy of you."

Fat chance, Cho thought, but she restrained from telling him off, instead meeting his polite words in kind. "Thank you, Zhang Han San. I thank you for your kind words, and I too look forward to speaking with you this evening, for we have much to discuss. Will you take supper with us?"

Zhang's eyes lit up, and Cho could only imagine that he was undressing her with them. "I would be honoured." Dismissively, Cho's intended turned his attentions to the figure beside him, a leaner, younger looking man only a little older than she was. The family resemblance was plain, but it was obvious that this man's fortunes were poorer than Zhang's. His clothes were of a rougher quality and design, and he maintained a timid air, looking quite uncomfortable amongst such distinguished company. "This is my brother, Quan Han Sen. He is one of the top students at the Shanghai Institute for Sorcery, and has come with me at my father's request to see what magic Britain has to offer."

"I am honoured that you would accept us into your house, Mr. Chang," Quan said, polite but uncertain. His eyes caught Cho's for a moment, and he turned away, blushing. "I hope that my presence here will not be an intrusion, given what my brother and yourself have to discuss."

"Then you shouldn't have come," Zhang snarled under his breath, and Quan shrank in the face of his brother's fury.

Cho stepped forward. She had always heard that Zhang was a bully, but the idea that his own brother could suffer at his hands made her blood boil. "No, it is you who honours us with your presence, Quan Han Sen," she said, ignoring her intended in a deliberate snub. "Our house is your house, and you are welcome here."

"Of course!" Han interjected, playing the exuberant host. "Come in, both of you! My chef has a poor temperament, but he does fine work, and we had best not wait and let the food get cold. Come."

An elaborate dinner followed with all of Cho's favourites; dumplings, chicken and rice, a wide variety of other Chinese dishes, as well as some more British-style food, including some rather excellent roast beef. The elaborate dining hall was full of laughter and good cheer, as scores of men and women of varying ages and relations drank to Cho's health and feasted on the finest dishes the Chang's staff prepared. Seated on fine silk cushions, Cho found herself next to her prospective husband, flinching ever time the older man 'accidently' brushed up against her bare, muscled arms. "So tell me, Cho," Zhang asked, laying on the charm, "from what your parents have told me, you are going to be attending a healer's school in Iceland. Correct?"

"The College of Sages is more than just a healer's school. It brings in students from around the world and offers teaching in a variety of disciplines. It is considered to be a magical university only for the academic elites, and you need to be the best to be accepted," Cho replied, with more than a little satisfaction. "It is a four-year program, and once completed, I'll be able to work at any Wizarding medical institution in the world."

"But why do you need such a degree when we are to be wed?" came the patronizing reply. "You'll have no need to subject yourself to the horrors of the medical ward."

Cho bristled at this. "I should think that you would desire a wife with as broad a basis of knowledge as possible. After all, the proper wife can carry a conversation and offer something new to the table, not merely go through the motions."

Zhang gave a contemptuous sniff. "And do you agree with your daughter's assessment, Mister Chang? I have always thought that a good wife's place is in the home, not at university. What do you say?"

"Cho has the right to go to university," Han said, frowning at Zhang's demeanour. "She has worked hard at Hogwarts, and she should be given the opportunity to go further and learn more before she settles down. That being said, Cho, why study to be a Healer? It will not be a rewarding path of knowledge after you are marred, so it seems a waste of time and effort. Why not Economics? Then you could help out with the operation of our businesses."

And become another blue-blooded profit-obsessed and self-righteous old pureblood, just like you? Cho thought. "I do not have the same head for business as you do, Father. Besides, the world needs good doctors, especially with the war going on," she said, inwardly shocked that her father considered her highly enough to suggest that she had a role in the Chang businesses. Previously, he had thought her only good for marrying off, and while Cho hated his suggestion, she did realize that his heart was in the right place. Even better, Zhang fell silent at Lee's firm rebuttal, giving Cho the chance to eat her dinner in relative peace, toasting alongside her relatives and engaging in some polite conversation with Quan. "So, Quan, what are you studying at the Institute? I hear they have a very good reputation in Potions and Alchemy."

Quan nearly jumped in his seat, freezing like a deer caught in the headlights of a Muggle lorry, but quickly composed himself. "Like Hogwarts, the Institute offers many courses, but I've found my strength lies in the study of history. I'd like to continue this path after I graduate, but I'm uncertain as to where to go."

"A man should have plans, especially in uncertain times like this," Han stated, the wheels inside his brain churning even now. "War threatens to spill over into this great community, and while I try not to involve myself in outside troubles unless it affects us, it's starting to get bad out there. Demand for my goods has dropped over the past few months; people are scared, and thanks to Bones and her increases in spending, prices have gone up. I accept that the Ministry and these 'Shadow Hunters' want to destroy the Death Eaters, but they are hurting the economy doing it. Fools, all of them. You can't change the world through a tavern brawl, but through invention and the economy. We just have to hold on, and things will get better. Let the forces of Light and soldiers of Darkness destroy each other, we'll be standing by the end."

"Voldemort doesn't care about market demand, Father, he's a butcher. He will not stop until he's either dead or he dominates this entire country, perhaps beyond!" Cho exclaimed empathetically, visions of Hogsmeade burning and children dying seared into her mind. She thought of Harry and Blaise and all the others who were risking their lives to defeat the Dark Lord, and her father's comments stung. "Those fighting him are heroes, sacrificing much so that we might live in peace. They should be honoured, not derided."

"At the very least, daughter, you will not have to suffer from the war," Song stated, taking another sip of her wine. "Your place is here. You are safe here, and that is all that matters."

Eventually, though, Zhang found the courage to speak up in the face of Cho's icy demeanour towards him. "This war will not last long, I can assure you. Voldemort is a terrorist, nothing more, and he's far too destructive for his own good. A few more atrocities like the one he committed in Hogsmeade, and the people will turn against him. I'm sure of it."

"I hope you are right, lad," Han replied, pleased that his potential son-in-law was taking the conversation in a better direction. "Wizarding Limehouse has not yet suffered the Dark Lord's depredations thanks to our local militia and the defensive wards, but I'd feel better knowing that he was out of the picture for good. Business might pick up a bit then."

"Defeating Voldemort isn't as simple as winning the public over in our favour," Cho added. "We need the support of the people, yes, but stopping Voldemort will require destroying his armies, stopping his recruitment, cutting off his supply lines and ultimately killing him. I have a feeling that the war will take a great deal longer to win than you might think, Zhang."

Zhang ignored his bride-to-be. "No, Voldemort will not last long. The...creature can certainly fight, and certainly knows how to lead troops into battle, but he does not know how to govern. Even if he does defeat the British Ministry, what then? The Dark Lord has not demonstrated that he could run this country or any other should he conquer it."

"You think that his plans of empire are implausible?" Han asked.

"Empire?" Zhang laughed contemptuously. "Of thieves? Of murderers? Even with his use of terror tactics and the Imperius Curse, Voldemort will never gain the support of the people needed to rule. No, he will eventually be defeated, and then, Madam Bones and her war-time government can be replaced with something more rational, more along the lines of the magical state we have established in China. Ordered, prosperous, disciplined, reasonable..."

Cho addressed the elephant in the room he had brought up. "You believe that a woman cannot lead a nation?"

"I believe that in times of great stress, people will turn to foolhardy leadership and make poor choices if it means that they will feel safe. How much does this Madam Bones know about governance, actually?"

That was enough for Cho. It was one thing to have a differing political opinion, but quite another to deny someone a chance to succeed based on petty things like gender. Excusing herself, Cho left the table, fists clenched tight at her side as she felt Zhang's eyes on her rear, eyeing her like a piece of meat. It took all her self-control not to hex him into next week, and only when she reached the cool open air of the garden did she allow herself to calm down, albeit it slightly. Heels clacking on the stone path, the Champion took a seat upon a nearby bench, trying to compose herself. It wasn't working; her parents were not accepting her feelings about the marriage, Zhang was everything she had known and worse, and all her attempts at bargaining and compromise were meeting with failure. It was as if they were not understanding her words, like the idea of her marrying whom she wished was such a foreign concept as to be incomprehensible.

Cho bit her lower lip nervously, even the tranquil gardens she loved unable to quell her anxieties. She needed to get back to Hogwarts and get away from the politicking and Zhang and the vapid conversations about nothing and everything else about the life of the pureblood elite she despised. She needed to escape this place before anyone noticed her absence, retreat back to the warmth of Ravenclaw Tower and actually do something with her life.

"Excuse me, Miss Chang," came the seemingly-distant voice, and Cho focused in, seeing Quan standing before her, hands raised in a placating gesture. "I hope I am not disturbing you?" he asked gently, his eyes flickering over her as if to watch for some hostile reaction.

"No, not at all, Quan," Cho replied, standing up and smoothing the skirt of her qipao. "Is there something I can do for you?"

At this, the Chinese wizard stuttered and bowed low. "I must apologize for my brother's conduct tonight, Miss Chang. He should not have dismissed your academic efforts so easily, or should he have insulted you in such fashion. I humbly beg your forgiveness."

Cho was stunned for a moment, not having expected an apology from Zhang's much mistreated younger brother, but quickly composed herself. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Quan. Your brother's actions were his own, and it should not be up to you to cover for him. Still, I appreciate your concern, and I accept the spirit behind your words." She frowned for a moment, stepping towards him. "Why do you let Zhang treat you like that?"

"He is my brother, Miss Cha-"

"Call me Cho, Quan," she insisted, touching his shoulder. "I'm not going to tell Zhang anything about what you say here, alright? Speak as you wish, I won't judge you."

"He is my brother, and I am honour-bound to help him," Quan explained, his words spoken more confidently now, retreading old excuses. "For all his flaws, he does care about me, and is far more experienced in these matters than I. How could I not trust his judgement?"

"And this marriage? What do you think of that?"

Quan looked even more uncomfortable now. "Admittedly, I would be uncertain about marrying someone I had only just met. Please, do not take offense, Cho, for you are a wonderful woman and Zhang is indeed lucky to have you. But for myself..." He paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "How he and our families are going about this...it is not how I would have done it."

"Thank you for being honest with me, Quan," Cho replied. "It means more to me than I can express."

"Thank you for giving me the opportunity. And you? Do you have doubts about this at all?"

"None whatsoever," Cho replied confidently. "I am not going to marry Zhang, no matter what my parents will think of the match between us. If they like him so much, then they should wed him." Merlin, that felt good to say! she thought, investing every bit of the considerable scorn she could muster. "I'm a witch, Quan, and I'm a woman, not one of those scabby broodmares the pureblood elite is so fond of. And will not bow down to him just because of who his parents are or the extent of his pedigree."

New footsteps sounded on the stone. "But you will, Cho, I insist upon it," Zhang Han San exclaimed, marching up to meet her. "Leave, Quan."

"But..."

"Are you deaf or simply stupid, brother?" Zhang roared, cowing his sibling into submission. "Leave!"

Head drooping in shame, Quan left. "My brother is an idiot. He shouldn't have been talking to you, Cho. I hope you don't think I'm a loser like him too."

"Your brother was very kind to me, Zhang. If anyone is shamed by your arrogant displays, it's yourself. Why do you treat him like that? He respects and cares about you, and you make him feel like less than dirt."

Zhang snorted. "Quan needs to be stronger if he's going to make it in this world. I'm his damn brother, who else is going to help the loser become a real man if not me?" he declared, as if the point was obvious. A hand reached out, caressing the young woman's cheek. "Besides, if anyone deserves some alone time with the bride-to-be, it's going to be me."

Cho slapped his hand away, becoming increasingly angry now. "You haven't earned it yet, and I don't think you're even capable. Good night." Whirling away, Cho was suddenly halted by Zhang's firm grip on her upper arm. "Release me."

"You're going to be my wife, Cho, so you'll need to understand some very simple rules. First, I don't appreciate it when my authority is undermined in front of others; as my wife, you will keep a civil tongue in your head whenever we have company. Second-"

"Your authority? Merlin, you are conceited," Cho snapped back. "What authority would that be, I wonder? That of your little regime of tyrants and killers back in China, bullying anyone who dares to stand up for themselves? Or are you one of those purebloods who believe that you're Merlin's gift to magic, and those beneath your class are just grist for the mill? Or is it the illusionary authority you believe men automatically possess over women, and that I should just lay at your feet like the family dog, to roll over and play fetch whenever you ask? No, Zhang, you have no authority over me, and you will never get an opportunity to obtain it. Now release me!"

During their training with Stormfury, the Champions learned numerous ways to defend themselves, including some unarmed combat. While not proficient in it, Cho had picked up a few tricks, particularly how to escape an enemy's grasp or disarm an opponent wielding a wand, and put such lessons into practice now. Zhang gave a startled yelp as Cho struck his exposed wrist with her other hand, stunning his grip, before seizing him by the arm and throwing him over her shoulder. Her intended husband crashed into the pond, scattering the fish and rousing the guests from their meal. Zhang reached up to pull himself from the water, only to find Cho's wand pointed at his face, her tone deathly cold. "You don't know me all that well, Zhang, so you'll need to understand some very simple rules. First, do not touch me without my consent, ever. I don't care who you are or what claims to power you have, but my body is my own, and I will never give it up to the likes of you. Deal with it."

"Bitch!" Zhang raged, raising his wand to hex her. It was childishly slow, and Cho easily sent the instrument spinning from his hand and into the water before he could utter a single syllable.

"Secondly," Cho added, continuing on as if nothing had happened. "If you want to share a place in my heart, mind and bed, then you'll have to earn it. Show me why you are worthy, don't simply demand. Harry has done this. He has found the strength inside himself to be a better man, and for that. and more, I love him." Zhang's eyes widened at the name. "Yes, Harry Potter. Do you honestly think it's worthwhile for you to be insulting his lover?"

"Cho!" Han boomed in shock as he stepped out into the gardens.

"And third," the young woman continued, letting the energies of Ravenclaw burst forth from her hand, watching Zhang's eyes widen with fright. "My destiny is so far beyond you that you can't even comprehend it. While you and your father were bullying your people, I was on the battlefield, fighting those who would seek to oppress this country. While you sat smug in your delusions of pureblood superiority, I have seen Muggleborns of even the most humble birth and character perform greater acts of heroism and brilliance than you ever will. And while you were drooling over the idea of having a perfect, docile bride, I have been trying to make the world better." Cho levelled the magic against his face, his eyes widening in terror. "What makes you think you are worthy of me? Of any woman, let alone the Champion of Ravenclaw?"

Zhang whimpered, and Cho felt the eyes of a hundred people staring in shock. Quenching the magic, Cho turned on her heel, trying to calm herself before she did something foolish. "Leave. Now," she commanded, and walked away, ignoring the frightened and appalled whispers of those in attendance as they gave the young beauty a wide berth.

All but her father, who stepped forward with barely contained anger. "What have you done, Cho? Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for us? I am very disappointed in you, daughter, I though you knew better than that."

"In that case, I'm not sorry to disappoint you, Father," Cho hissed back, meeting his gaze. "You want to talk about humiliation? What of the humiliation of being bartered about like a prized mare for political favours? What of the humiliation of knowing your own family considers you as an object to be traded rather than a person? What of the humiliation of not being allowed to forge your own path, and instead intended to part your thighs to whomever can pay the bride-price? I have known humiliation the likes of which you cannot understand, and if you know what's best for you, then you will stay out of my way."

"All we wanted to do was protect you, Cho, to make you happy!"

"Then you should have asked me what I wanted. You should have let me choose for myself, and to hell with tradition! Besides, I have been fighting Death Eaters for the past year, I am well on my way to getting into the College of Sages, I don't need you to monitor my every move!"

"Death Eaters! Cho, why didn't you tell us?"

The young woman paused, then finally spoke. "Because...because you wouldn't understand." Before Han could reply back, Cho was gone, weaving her way past the guests and heading up to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her before exhaling a sigh of regret. She had been harsh, perhaps too harsh, but it needed to be said. A rift had been formed between her parents and herself that would not easily be sealed, if at all. And perhaps concealing the truth about her efforts as a warrior had been wrong, but what other choice did she have? They would have never allowed her to fight the darkness as she needed to.

Quickly, Cho stripped, changing into a more practice set of pants, tunic and flat-soled boots, rapidly pulling her hair into a ponytail. She needed to be away from here, away from prying eyes and angry demands, away to a place where she could think and calm herself after everything that had happened. She hoped that Harry was doing well, as right now she wanted nothing more than to take comfort in his arms and forget her troubles, even for a moment. It was cowardly, but it was the only choice she had now.

A creak sounded on the stairs leading to her room, and Cho froze, bemused. Were her parents attempting to force a confrontation in her own quarters? They must have done a good job of calming the guests down, as the main floor seemed oddly silent, even through the door...

Cho's quick reflexes were the only thing that saved her, as the Stunning Curse punched through the door and missed her by mere inches. The Death Eater burst into the room, even as screams erupted from downstairs. The young girl deflected another Stunner into the wall next to her bed, retaliating with a Slashing Curse that left his right arm torn and bloody. A final Disarming Curse sent both wand and Death Eater hurtling into the hall, breaking a window on impact. Raised voices from downstairs bellowed for Cho, and the girl seized her katana before rushing into the fray...

"Everything quiet out there, Ginny?" Parvati Patil asked her squad leader as she returned to Gryffindor Tower, carrying a large pot of tea with her. The Hellions and Indefagitable were part of the second watch, and with the permission of Professor McGonagall, had camped themselves out into the common room until their shift. Two dozen men and women sat together, playing cards, chatting in quiet tones, and otherwise counting down the minutes until they were called up, and all eyes turned to Ginny as she entered.

Ginny tried to ignore the slight tremble in her hands as she replied, "Yeah, everything is fine. Nothing to report, really. Between Susan, Hannah, Ron and Daphne's squads, nothing's getting through anyways, even if the Death Eaters come. Anyone feel like some tea?"

Assent was called out all-round, and soon the entire pot was emptied. "I'll go get some more, guys. You just relax," Ginny called back, and then she was gone, casting the container into the nearest dark corner. She was on the path now.

The air was bitterly cold in Harry's lungs as the Champion of Gryffindor knelt alongside the road approaching Hell Pit, waiting for the signal to move forward. Alongside him were dozens of battle-ready witches and wizards, the vanguard of the force that would break the Death Eaters at Hell Pit and slay their dreaded leader before the sun was up. Disillusionment Charms, Invisibility Cloaks, the darkness and other forms of concealment kept the troops mostly hidden from prying eyes, but so close to the lair of their enemy, the forces of Light had crouched on the damp earth, unmoving, as if an errant twitch would betray their presence to Voldemort. Beside him, Harry could feel the warmth of Blaise's body pressing against his own, and the Slytherin girl growled with impatience. "Where the bloody hell is Snape?" she demanded in an angry whisper. "He should have come back by now."

"If he does betray us, I will kill him," Stormfury added, gazing stoically down the road, blue eyes giving no sign of worry or anxiety. Harry himself tried to stay calm, but the excitement of the fight ahead left him feeling jittery, despite the breathing exercises he had learned studying with Avalon. Too much was at stake here, and the idea of trusting Snape with his life and the lives of others didn't sit well with him. Meanwhile, Stormfury continued on, oblivious to the discomfort of the Champions. "Before us lies the heart of the enemy, warriors. Gaea willing, upon this night we shall reach forth and tear it out!"

A murmur of assent rose from the other troops. They were Aurors and Shadow Hunters and Order volunteers and the soldiers of the Saladin Legion and Peacekeepers and troops from a dozen nations, all committed to the cause of the Light and Voldemort's destruction. Months of constant raids and guerrilla warfare had worn them down, and eroded what little patience they possessed in the fight against the Dark Lord. Each man and woman there wanted nothing more than to storm Hell Pit, to slaughter the Death Eaters within, and to bring Voldemort to justice, and none of them were eager to wait for any longer than necessary.

Then a bright blue light flashed; once, then three times in rapid succession: Snape's signal. "Move up towards the mine entrance! Bring up the rest of the army!" Stormfury ordered, grabbing Tonks by the shoulder. "Make sure to leave a few companies behind to cover our rear, Captain, and ensure that we are not outflanked."

"I've put a score of Qadir's troops on it, as well as two companies worth of Aurors and about a dozen of the Order," Tonks replied. "That's over a hundred battle-ready wizards, and truth be told, part of me thinks it's too much. When we storm that mine, it's going to be bloody, and we'll need every wand we can bring to bear."

"We'll be enough, Captain," Stormfury answered, teeth set on edge. "Maintain your position here, but be ready to support us if necessary or to take down any fleeing Death Eaters. Are the Disapparation Charms in place?"

"Yes, I set them myself just a few minutes ago, and the entire mine is covered. Anyone within Hell Pit won't be able to Apparate out, though they won't last more than a few hours, so you'll have to be quick about it."

"Fair enough. Warriors, to me! Quick and silent, now!"

Immediately, Harry and Blaise were up, legs pumping to a brisk cadence, joining a vast and swift tide of warriors storming up the road. Harry caught a glimpse of the Slytherin girl's face as they advanced, her wide blue eyes exhilarated and tense, a coiling string ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. Harry felt much the same, and he forced himself to stay calm and not jump the gun. Stealth and surprise were key elements of the attack, and he would not jeopardize all their lives with a rash move.

Snape met them near the wide entrance of the tunnel, face drawn tight. "Quickly, into Hell Pit. Only a few Death Eaters are left here, but they are preparing to move the Chaos Stones even now. We must hurry!"

"How many are there?" Stormfury asked, motioning more troops forwards.

"A few dozen, no more. Still, the Death Eaters have determined how the nullify the aura produced by the Stones long enough to teleport them to their secondary base. A few more minutes, and we might lose our best chance!"

"Be silent, Snape, before I forget who you are," Stormfury snapped, quelling the Potion Master's desperation. "We shall proceed quietly and only strike when we are in position. This tunnel, it branches off into several passages, all leading to the main chamber?"

"Yes. The second tunnel is new, carved out two months ago by the Muggle slaves kept by the Death Eaters. Before you arrived, I disabled the wards and other protections that defend Hell Pit, and the Death Eaters present are distracted by their work with the Chaos Stones. Assuming of course you can strike first, you should be able to overwhelm them."

"Good. Captain Qadir, take your troops and follow the left-hand tunnel. The Aurors and Shadow Hunters will travel through the right. Lupin, I'd like your Order volunteers to assist the Saladin Legion."

Lupin nodded. "Of course." The old werewolf seemed to have aged years since the last time Harry met him and looked more rumpled than ever, but his fighting skills were apparently, and the intelligent gleam in his eyes had not faded. "There will probably be more sentries standing watch inside, so we'd best get rid of them before proceeding."

"Blaise and I brought our Invisibility Cloaks, we can do it," Harry suggested.

"Good. Proceed, and we shall follow," came the Shadow Hunter's reply.

Harry and Blaise donned their Invisibility Cloaks and stealthy made their way into the main chamber. Excitement and tension had heightened his senses, and each footfall felt impossibly loud to his ears, echoing off the cavern walls. The army would have to move very quietly in order to avoid alerting the guards, but with any luck, soon they wouldn't be a problem. A hand poked out from nothingness, gesturing to the guard on the left, facing the centre of the chamber. Harry slipped his own out from behind his Cloak, then Stunned the sentry with a quick incantation. Blood splashed onto the rock as Blaise dispatched another, and then the Champions were over the fallen bodies, winding their way through the vastness of Hell Pit. It was more than just a fortress for the Dark Lord to plot and scheme, Harry realized, it was a community in its own right. The troops threaded through storehouses filled with crates and wandmaking facilities, barracks and pleasure-houses, all built from the very rock of the mine. The air was rank with the stench of decay and human bodies. The sentries were more numerous here, but still unawares and scattered, allowing Harry and Blaise to silent get the drop on them, ambushing from around corners and cutting them down where they stood. More soldiers followed them, and Harry's breath tightened as he saw the Chaos Stones looming overhead, monolithic and terrifying. Merlin's breath, how in the world are we going to destroy those things?

They were near the central chamber now, and the dirge-like chants of the Death Eaters had become booming in their intensity. Ducking behind the wall of a small storehouse, Harry examined the enemy forces. About a hundred Death Eaters, just as Snape had said, with most of them focused on shifting the Chaos Stones. It was a small force, much smaller than the combined army sent to destroy them, and doubtless the forces of Light would defeat them. The main problem was one of distance. Over a hundred years of open ground stood between the Death Eaters and their foes, and it would take only a single shout to bring a wave of Killing Curses upon them. Taking off his cloak, he motioned Stormfury closer. "Snape was right, they aren't ready for us."

"All of their forces are by the Stones?" the Shadow Hunter inquired.

"Yeah, save for the sentries that Blaise and I took care of. We have surprise on our side, but they have distance. There are too many to pick off, and we won't be able to cover the gap in time before they start fighting back."

"Don't worry about that, boy, we've planned for something like that. Are you sure there are no other Death Eaters present?"

Harry nodded. "As sure as I can be. They've got everyone focused on moving the Stones, they've even forgotten about a lot of their supplies in their storehouses. We crush them and the Stones will be defenceless."

"Good," Stormfury stated, clapping Harry on the back. "Stay here, we'll take care of them."

One of the Death Eater sentries looked around with obvious laxity, unaware of their presence. He was still unconcerned about the possibility of enemy attack when the roots back to emerge from the ground, popping up from the stone and growing dozens of feet in moments. With a sudden lunge, the roots ensnared the sentries, wrapping themselves around their bodies and squeezing, some sprouting vicious spikes to plunge into their bodies. Horrified, they tried to fight back, but the roots were too strong and were already strangling the life from them. Panicked screams emerged, and the Death Eaters working at the Chaos Stones turned, startled to this sudden intrusion.

Then the whip-cracks sounded, as two dozen Aurors Apparated into the middle of the enemy formation, each bringing a Shadow Hunter along for the ride. Apparating in combat was a risky move, particularly when teleporting with another person, the spell was designed for covering long distances, not warping into the middle of a firefight. Its use here was unexpected, and the Death Eaters were caught completely unprepared as the rapid-assault troops, dozens of them tore to pieces by the ferocity of their attack. Shadow Hunter blades scythed through the enemy ranks, sending blood spraying in all directions, while the spells of the Aurors overcame their defences with casual ease. Stormfury's battle cry sounded, and the main army struck, storming towards the Death Eaters, unleashing a hurricane of spells and catching the distracted terrorists completely off their guard. Harry caught a glimpse of dark eyes widening in fear through the mask as he slammed into one of the Death Eaters, carrying the excess momentum and the hilt of Runefang forward into the man's jaw, breaking it completely. At his side, Blaise summoned the energies of Slytherin and sent it racing ahead of her in the form of a mass of serpents, ripping through the enemy.

Scything down a Death Eater who tried to resist, Harry bounded towards the Stones, bringing the energies of Gryffindor to him. With a mighty roar, he struck the nearest obelisk with a fiery lance, intent on shattering the artefact before it could do any harm.

To his abject horror, the blast seemed to phase through the artefact, giving off a mirage-like shimmer, distorting and vanishing for a moment before returning to normal. In fact, all of the Stones seemed to be like that, twisted, ethereal...

Not really there...

"Stormfury!" Harry's voice cut through the din of combat. "It's a trap!"

Tendrils of dark energy manifested from the ground with a sudden swiftness, and then lunged for the Champions, seizing them by the wrists, ankles and throat, pulling them upwards in a horrible embrace. In the warehouses and storerooms they had passed earlier, horrible screams emerged as an army of Inferius boiled from their confinement like a swarm of cockroaches. Thousands of the howling undead streamed through the streets of Hell Pit to encircle the forces of Light, while their necromantic puppetmasters blasted the roof, sending stone shards raining down upon them. "To arms, children of Gaea! Stand fast!" Stormfury screamed as the first Inferi slammed into their ranks...

"Second shift starts in ten minutes, Neville. Are you ready?" Hermione asked, rousing Neville from his trance. "We should check our squads before the watch starts, just to make sure they're ready."

"Coming, Hermione," came his reply as he gave Luna one last kind look. "I told the Indefagitable to meet me in the Gryffindor Common Room. Professor McGonagall is letting us assemble there, so I should be able to deploy th-"

Bright silver eyes snapped open, terrified, and Luna Lovegood let out a piercing scream.

"Luna!" Neville was instantly at her side. "Are you -"

"Kill her!" the girl howled, clutching Neville tightly, her fingers digging into his back and shoulders. "Put her down with the Killing Curse, throw her into the darkness, anything! You can't let her complete her task, you can't!"

"What do you mean? Who are you talking about?" Neville demanded.

Luna suddenly froze, eyes peering into the wall as if trying to stare beyond it. "Oh no. We're too late. He's here! They're all here!"

The sixth-floor girls bathroom. This was where it had all began for her.

Ginny's sobs continued as she stared at the central sink that dominated the lavatory, petrified with fright. She could feel him worming around in the back of her mind, the beast that had haunted her for so long, twisting and coiling around her brain and making it his own. For years, it had remained dormant within her, buried deeply by its creator, with not even the Spirit Walker able to detect its presence.

The girl stifled her tears. She was tired of always having to hide, of staring Death in the face every time she looked out the window, of everything. She couldn't stop it, as much as she wanted to. It would happen. Better to do it herself, to protect those she loved and gain some small advantage in the new order to come.

Slowly, Ginny raised her arms over her head and began to speak, the word twisting into the hiss of a snake. The sink parted, opening up with the groan of shifting metal and stone to reveal the passageways beneath. A dark-cloaked figure rose up, peering out like a mole emerging from its den, examining the room for threats before signalling others out of the darkness. More rose from the catacombs, streaming their way into the halls, pausing only to nod to the girl as they passed. The other howled in triumph as terror overcame the girl, and she felt herself sinking.

As the first screams began to echo through the halls, Asmodeus approached the girl, bowing. "The second wave will be in position within the next five minutes. Your orders?"

"Bring down all who stand in your way," the voice of Tom Riddle spoke through his vessel. Eyes burning red, Ginny Weasley, the last Horcrux of Lord Voldemort, smiled. "Take this place, and prepare it for Kharaidon's ascension!"

Darkness had fallen and most of the Ministry staff had gone home, but the lights in the office of Minister Amelia Bones still burned strongly. Setting aside the document she had been reviewing, the older woman looked up to see Penelope Clearwater bearing a pot of tea and two cups. "Earl Grey, Madam Minister?" Penelope asked.

"Thank you, Penelope," Bones replied, accepting a cup. Taking a sip, she smiled at her Junior Undersecretary with fondness. "Two lumps, just the way I like it."

"Well, practice makes perfect," her young assistant replied, pouring herself a cup. She gestured at a blue folder sitting on the edge of the desk. "The completed Fudge investigation, Minister. Every bit of evidence the Magical Law Enforcement Squad could find and every charge that can be substantiated at trial, all right there."

Bones grunted. "I doubt even the MLES will have overturned every rock Fudge had buried secrets under," she lamented. "I'm certain it'll be enough to convict him, but he did so much damage in his term, it'll take years to resolve it. More so, if the conservatives manage to stymie things."

"It is a start, Minister. A fair trial may help to ease the tensions and fix the issues of corruption when it is resolved. The MLES does remind you though that now all evidence is gathered, the trial must proceed soon. Fudge and Umbridge cannot be held indefinitely, after all."

"Of course, habeus corpus." She eyed her assistant, immediately noticing how tired the young woman looked. "You should head home, Penelope, you're exhausted."

Penelope shook her head. "Minister, I just couldn't sleep, knowing that the fate of the war is about to be decided shortly. How can I rest when so many others are fighting and dying for our freedom?"

"Do you think they will succeed?" Bones eyed her.

"Yes, Minister, I do," Penelope responded with conviction. "I do not know Harry Potter as well as I should, but I know Cho Chang. If she trusts him, then I trust him."

"I hope to Merlin that you're ri-"

Whatever Bones intended to say next was silenced in the explosion that ripped through the Ministry, throwing both women out of their chairs and gutting the building. The superstructure groaned like a wounded animal, as brass shattered and marble crumbled, with shelves and desks tossed aside in the initial blast. Bones covered her head as the ceiling began to collapse, trying to shield herself from the debris. "Penelope!"

Coughing, Penelope sat up. "I'm here, Minister. Oh, God," she whispered, finally noticing the six-inch shaft of wood that had punched through her left thigh. Blood began to soak her black stockings, and the girl gasped in shock and pain. "Minister..."

"It's alright, help will be here soon," Bones moved to reassure her, casting a minor healing spell to bind the wound tightly. Penelope whimpered, causing Bones to hiss, "Where are the Aurors?"

"They'll be coming shortly, Minister, but not soon enough," came the voice, and Bones paled, her monocle falling out of place. Hands wreathed in warpfire and the Chaotic tattoos burning bright beneath his robes, Lord Voldemort grinned maliciously. "Oh, dearie me, we are in trouble now!"

A/N: Yeah, I don't really have any excuse for the exceptionally long delay, so I'm not going to even bother. All I'll say is thank you all for your continued support and practice, and I hope that this chapter meets the high standards you've all come to expect. As always, any and all comments will be appreciated, and thank you again for everything. You guys rock!

Next chapter: Hope fades...