I don't own any of this. The incomparable JK Rowling does.

*****

Amidst the chaos in the Great Hall, Harry Potter found himself completely alone.

Younger students swirled around him, frantically searching for friends amongst the throng, but Harry stood alone. The chaos seemed to part in front of him, leaving him standing in a small pocket of inactivity; no one entered that sacred space, perhaps out of fear of the expression that now flashed in the too-green eyes of the Boy Who Lived.

To one side of the Great Hall, Hermione, Head Girl through and through made a Herculean effort to calm students and evacuate them to the dungeons. The few student that listened to her ducked through a set of doors generally reserved for professors only, but the general sense of panic continued unabated. Ron tried to help his girlfriend calm the younger students, but they were having none of it -- they were well on their way to complete hysterics.

He Who Must Not Be Named was at Hogwarts. He had somehow -- somehow! -- broken through the layers of wards and protective barriers, and was bearing down on the school in a malevolent wave. Hogsmeade was already under attack; how long before the castle was besieged? How long before You-Know-Who himself set foot inside the hallowed classrooms once more?

Harry gritted his teeth. He had his suspicions about how Voldemort had managed to gain access to Hogwarts, but Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be found. Just the thought of the Slytherin made Harry want to spit, to clear the bile out of his throat, but he swallowed with difficulty and forced himself to take stock of the situation once more.

Most of the professors had fallen for Voldemort's trap, and were out trying to defend Hogsmeade. They were so confident that Hogwarts was safe that they had left it virtually unprotected. Now that Death Eaters roamed the halls, there were barely a handful of professors to rally the students in a meager defence. They had gathered in the Great Hall, but even that was no longer safe. They had to go deeper into the castle, Professor Sprout claimed, and try to hold off the Death Eaters there.

Hermione finally succeeded in organizing a handful of First Years, and now had a steady stream of weeping students ducking out of the Great Hall. The older students had decided to help, and went about their tasks with grim expressions. They knew what Voldemort could do to the school. Many of them had been there for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, for the attacks on their families and friends, and a sick dread filled every student at the thought of the Death Eaters in the halls of Hogwarts.

The evacuation proceeded smoothly until only the older students were left. Seventh and Sixth Years, with a few Fifth Years tossed in, glanced around to make sure their younger classmates had already been safely smuggled into the depths of the castle.

And the cold came.

It wasn't necessarily a change in the physical temperature of the Hall, but every remaining student shifted uneasily as the hairs stood up on the backs of their necks. A collective shiver raced through the room, and Hermione moaned in sudden horror. Before anyone could move, the huge, solid doors of the Great Hall were blown inwards, scattering shards of wood in every direction.

"Everyone out, now!" Ron screamed, grabbing a Fifth Year girl by the back of her robes and shoving her bodily toward the door to the dungeons. There was a mad scramble for the exit, girls and boys alike shouting in abject terror. The clusters of students wavered and broke as the heavily cloaked Death Eaters began to stream into the Great Hall.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry darted forward almost as one. They ducked through the fleeing crowd, occasionally pushing a classmate toward the doors, as the three of them struggled to get in between the students and their attackers. Curses were flying through the air, and several students had paused to fight back, desperately hoping to give their classmates a chance to escape. The trio joined the impromptu defence force, firing curses with deadly accuracy.

A hoarse cry from Harry's left distracted him momentarily. He glanced aside and almost dropped his wand; Ron was clutching a gash in his right arm, his robes already sticky with blood. Hermione shoved him impatiently to one side, sparing a moment to cast a hasty blood-clotting charm on Ron's arm. The taller boy shot her a shaky grin before viciously hexing the Death Eater that had attacked him.

"Watch that side, you're letting your guard down!" Hermione yelled.

"I'll try to remember that," Ron growled back, teeth bared in a snarl as he sent off three curses in quick succession. "You just take care of yourself -- I'll not be bailing you out of trouble like we did first year!"

Harry fought down the insane urge to laugh. Of all the times for Ron and Hermione to be bickering, this had to be the worst. Ron's tongue-in-cheek reference to their tussle with a mountain troll in first year only made it more laughable; they were undoubtedly facing something a LOT worse than a mere mountain troll now.

Another Death Eater got too close, and Harry took the opportunity to lash out with his fists. He used his wand on the less accessible enemies, but with the adrenaline pumping through his veins, any attacker that got too close to him inevitably wished he'd faced the curses instead. Harry was no longer the skinny, short boy that had come to Hogwarts seven years ago; he had grown enough to put some power behind his blows, and more than one Death Eater fell back with a bloody nose or split lip. As he struck the new attacker twice in the face, Harry saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

Ginny, he thought grimly. No one else had hair that color, except Ron, and he was on Harry's other side. I thought I told her to stay out of this? Harry fought back the urge to scream. The daft girl was insisting on getting herself hurt, all because of that ludicrous grudge she held against Voldemort -- or rather, Tom Riddle. I should have carried her down to the dungeons myself, Harry thought grimly. If she gets herself killed…