Disclaimer for this and all following chapters: We don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe; that is all JKR's, and we also want to thank her for sharing it with us because we absolutely adore everything about it! Ours is only the plot ideas and all that rot.

Even with my advance warning, things were going very badly for us. We knew we'd be outnumbered in terms of human fighters, and we knew they'd have the advantage of being less scrupulous in their choice of curses. But we were counting on Hagrid to bring more giants to our side; he'd arrived in time, but only brought three, one of which was his runt of a brother. We didn't exactly expect the werewolves to go to the Dark Lord's side in such huge numbers; Lupin had been working on their neutrality for months and they'd seemed inclined to avoid the whole bloody mess altogether. The Ministry's idiotically ill-timed Werewolf Restrictions must have angered them more than we optimistically hoped. I've heard Potter mutter that sometimes he thinks the Ministry is against us; I could tell him that, knowing who has the strongest power over them, they are.

Longbottom, the idiotic fool, is dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange. He'll never be a match for her; he's too honest, and she's too crazy and unpredictable. Honor Longbottom may have, but that doesn't matter to Bellatrix. I've often thought that nothing matters to Bellatrix save for herself. Even Rodolphus has proven expendable.

I'd jump in with Longbottom, just for the chance to send a few hexes Bella's way, but I have another mission to take care of. I can't risk it all on the chance that Longbottom may do something stupid and clumsy and get me killed. I keep moving towards the center of the battle, watching out for danger from under my Obscuring Hood.

I take down Avery as he sneaks up behind Lupin, battling Snape. Avery drops like a stone, dead. I'm not held back by my morals like the Gryffindors I'm allied with.

Moody comes from my right and starts regulating the crowd of Death Eaters around Lupin and Snape. Lupin attacks and strikes ferociously, seeking revenge on behalf of the Order, of his deceased gang, of Potter, of Dumbledore, of himself. I wonder if they are really only angry with Snape, for betraying their oh-so-wonderful trust, or with themselves, for being so bloody stupid.

Snape is bleeding from a wound on the side of his face. He really looks ugly now.

The controversial fight is so attention-absorbing for both sides, so that they don't even notice me at all here. Time was they'd all be seeking me out to kill me. This is my first open operation for the Order, so while the Death Eaters know of my betrayal, most of the Order still doesn't know of my true alliances. So my total anonymity is welcome, making my movements ever the easier.

Ginny Weasley and Hannah Abbot are dragging Kingsley Shacklebolt to safer ground. He's gravely injured—not that I'm an expert, but I think it's going to be too late for Shacklebolt. Weasley and Abbot are being stupid, succeeding only in further endangering themselves, with their minds and hands occupied with the task of rescuing a dying corpse.

I take down a Death Eater who saw their vulnerability and move past them. I see him—it's not my duty or my mission, only my personal obsession after all, to see him dead. His hair is shining long from under his glistening mask, splayed against his dark robes—I follow him around to the greenhouses, lowering my hood.

He sees me, and smirking maliciously, he darts behind Greenhouse Number Seven. He Banishes a body into my face—Hestia Jones—and I stumble sideways into a tree, shooting a wayward Killing Curse that shatter half of the glass windows of Greenhouse Number Six. I see his dark cloak swish behind Number Seven, and follow him into a dark alleyway between the greenhouses.

I don't see him, I don't see him anywhere. Unsettled and suspicious, I duck back out. Two of the greenhouses explode. I dive for the shrubs, but I can feel little shards of glass on my back and my arms.

I see him, across the ruins, looking victorious. I reach for my wand on the dirt just inches from me as he looks on, grinning maliciously. I see the fire-red hair of the Weasel King, wand aimed and ready, from over the bastard's shoulder, but he doesn't notice. I raise my wand for pretense, and Lucius sneers, raising his own almost lazily to bring up a shield.

I notice that his sneer is glued to his face as he falls, dead.

I sneer at Weasley.

After taking a moment to gather enough spit in my mouth to spit on Lucius' body, I look around. I'm right near the crux of battle, where Potter and the Dark Lord are dueling, Potter feverishly, the Dark Lord looking only slightly worried. Around them their various minions are fighting, yet leaving the two largely undisturbed as they decide between themselves the fate of the wizarding world.

Potter is defending himself with shield after shield, hardly getting any attacks in between the Dark Lord's fast and powerful hexes. While Potter's keeping the Dark Lord too occupied for him to take the time and power to perform any Unforgivables, Potter isn't going to win like this.

I've given up too much for Potter to fail now—so I won't let that happen.

Weasley and I, now side by side, both see a Death Eater—Nott Sr.—take aim at Potter's back, proposing to break the unofficial boundaries around Potter and the Dark Lord. I raise my wand; Weasley, loyal sidekick that he is, jumps between Nott's curse and Potter. I try to distinguish the spell that emits that rusted purple jet of color as I take down Nott. Potter, oblivious, is uninterrupted in his duel. Granger appears by Weasley's side, kneeling over him.

There's no time. Potter's failing. I search out Loony. What we need is more time…

Potter looked highly stressed as he surveyed us. "I don't know if Voldemort is completely vulnerable yet—but I have a very strong feeling that Voldemort won't let us delay the final battle any longer. I hate to resort to this…." He sighed, then turned to m, looking at me with troubled, determined eyes. He must still hate me for my part in Dumbledore's death, yet he hides it so well, for the good of the common goal. I smirk at him... "I'll give you the Hood again. Luna is here because she's the only one who knows of your status besides Ron, who is too emotionally involved, and Neville, who has his own job to do." He turned back to face both of us. "So watch for the signal, you two, do you remember which—"

I nod, biting back my impatience in face of the dire circumstances. "—yes, we know—"

"Good. Then for the love of God, 'R.A.B' succeeded…."

Lovegood turned to me with her bloody vague, addled smile. I knew she was thinking of an earlier conversation—well, she talked, I ignored her—and I glared at her. When I had told her I didn't believe in love, she'd tried to convince me by telling me that it was a common affliction of the mind caused by breathing in an especially adaptive species of fungus.

She raised her eyebrows even further than they were naturally. "Maybe you'll accept it now, now that fungus is our last hope?"

"What are you talking about, Loony?" I scoffed, sneering at her.

Potter's blue spark shot out towards me, and it popped in a small explosion in front of my face. He'd caused Dark Lord to stumble and taken the opportunity to alert us instead of attack… I suppose the Dark Lord really was immortal. My gaze darts to Lovegood, past Weasley and Granger, a little to the right, and our gazes met for a moment. I shift so that Loony and I are on direct opposite sides of the two, and we raise our wands, and I can here a voice counting down in my head, and our three spells met at the target.

Granger flickers like a light, and disappears.

I lower my wand. "Good luck, Granger," I mutter, and turn to see what she had done.