Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company are owned by the amazing JK Rowling, to whom I bow down to for creating this amazing world and allowing us to visit.

A/N – Total stroke of inspiration right in the middle of my history essay.  So of course, I chose to work on this instead.

SUMMARY: Minutes before the final battle, Hogwarts' favorite trio shares a special moment.

AND IF

By: Hopeful Writer

            Somehow I expected more rain and ominous thunder and less... sunshine and happy weather.

            Not quite appropriate for a major battle.

            And yet... it is oddly appropriate.  Because, if nothing else, this marks the end of a period of death and fear.  A time where it wasn't safe to walk too far from your home unsupervised, and every time you got mail you prayed it wasn't a notice that someone was dead.

            A time for family and love and all that mushy stuff that Ginny's always reading about.

            Of course, there is always a chance that we'll die and Voldemort will take over.  Then the rain and ominous thunder might be more appropriate.  Unless you were a Death Eater.

            But I'm trying to be optimistic.

            I'm with Harry and Hermione now, and even though no one speaks, I can tell they're both afraid.  Hermione, who I thought would have broken down by now, is standing tall and defiant, her confidence only betrayed by the tremble in her right hand, which carries the wand she no longer really needs.  Over the last two years, Hermione has become a master at wandless magic.

            Harry, who I thought would be the picture of calm, is shaking life a leaf in a thunder storm.  It's unnerving to see him like this, when he has always been the strongest, and when I know he will be called upon to be brave yet again.  One more day, one more battle.  This is for all the marbles.

            And we're not going down without a fight.

            My eyes survey the grounds restlessly, jumping from one point to another in no real order.  I spot my friends, my classmates, and my teachers, as well as the Aurors and members of the Order, lined up against the castle.  We are the final defense line protecting the school.  We are the final defense line protecting all that is good and right in the world.

            It's kind of a scary thought.

            And, emerging from the Forbidden Forest (as is cliché for a battle), are the Death Eaters, the Dementors, and the Giants.  And somewhere, hidden in his mass of followers, is the evilest of all evils.  He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  Tom Riddle.

            Yep, you guessed it.  Voldemort.

            I'm not afraid of his name anymore.  I have far more important things to be afraid of.

            Like his magic.

            Hermione and I both know that Harry is the only one who can defeat Voldemort.  Somewhere along the lines in sixth year he told us about the prophecy.  But it doesn't ever say that Harry has to do it alone, as Hermione pointed out.  And we promised him, we swore to him and each other, that we would never leave him to face Voldemort alone.

            I would give my life to protect Harry Potter, and I will prove it if I have to.

            Hermione's small hand finds it way into my larger one, and I squeeze tight.  She clings to it as if she is sinking and it's a lifeline.  I want to hug her, to hold her and tell her everything will be all right, but I can't.  I can't make a promise I can't keep, and I will never, ever life to her.

            I love her.  I know she knows, and I know she loves me back.  It's something we've never said out loud, but I think we've always known.  Right now, it's more important to look out for Harry, to protect Harry.  When it's all over, we can do things that normal couples would do.

            Holding to Hermione's hand on my left, I reach over and clap my right hand on Harry's shoulder.  He starts at the sudden contact, then relaxes when he realizes that it's only me.  We stare at each other for a moment, and I want to tell him how I feel about him.  That's he's been my brother ever since we were eleven years old.  That I love him, and I've always been too embarrassed to admit it.  That he's always going to be family and I'm always going to be on his side, no matter how hard he pushes me away.  That I will die for him if he's in trouble, die for him to save him from one ounce of unnecessary pain.

            But the words won't come out.  Instead, in that nonverbal exchange, I tell him with my eyes that he is the best friend I could ever have asked for and that nothing he does today will change my opinion of him.

            And I know he understands.

            Hermione wraps us both in a big hug even as the Death Eaters get closer.  All around, I see people saying their goodbyes, but we still do not speak.  As we disentangle ourselves, Hermione moves to one side of Harry and I to the other, so we flank him.  He looks less nervous now, and more resolute.  A familiar determination sparks in his eyes, and a grim smile plays on his lips.

            I take a deep breath and say a little prayer for us to make it through.  I know it will not be an easy battle, but I know Harry can win.  He won't be alone, just like we promised him. 

            Two sides stand now, separated by less than 100 meters.  No one does anything, it seems that no one even breathes.  Someone will have to throw the first curse.

            It's Neville Longbottom.  He was trying to stare down Bellatrix Lestrange when he realized what needed to be done.  And, with a bravery born in the heart of a true Gryffindor, he utters one word, one word to bring about a period of chaos that will end only when one side falls for good.  "Stupefy," he hisses, his disgust at this Death Eater palpable in his speech.

            The hex misses Lestrange and hits another Death Eater, and chaos ensues.  Hermione drags Harry and me through the mass to try to get to the root of all evil.  All the while, we protect each other.

            And as we stare into eyes the color of human blood as it pours from a body, my nerves fade away completely.  I stand next to Harry, ready for the slightest indication that I should step in.

            And if I should die in this battle, I will go knowing that I protected my best friend and my brother.

            And if I should be wounded, I will not fall, but stand taller next to him.

            And if I should live, I will know that it was not because I was a coward, but because I was strong enough.

            And if the world should end today, I will die with no regrets.

THE END