PLEASE READ ME: Hello everyone. Jewles, the author of this fanfic, died earlier this year. This is the last chapter she wrote along with the notes for the rest of it, which include the ending and all associated notes. I am her Fannish next of Kin, which means I am uploading all her notes and archiving everything from her LJ and her FFN to Archive of Our Own. Her accounts will stay up as long as the domains do, which is why I am moving everything to AO3 for purposes to keeping everything in one place for future readers.

She had always said that she wanted to rename this fic and get a more accurate summary for this fic from you all, her readers. I would appreciate it if you leave any suggestions for a new title and a new summary for this fic in your reviews, if you would like. I am posting this up here and later on in the month I will be moving this fic to AO3.

THIS FIC AND ALL HER FICS WILL STILL BE HERE. They will just ALSO be on AO3, under the penname Hells_Ice_Heavens_Fire. We, her chosen family, appreciate your loyal support of her fandom writing and appreciate any comments you leave.

Now, onwards to the last of this fic:

Luna walked ahead of Ginny, hair gathered in a knot at the base of her neck, shirt wrinkled and she wasn't wearing any shoes. Her bright socks faded between colors, the tops a bright pink that blended into orange before fading to purple. And atop her head, spinning in a tight circle not unlike that of a halo, were three blue lights.

She didn't recognize the corridor they were walking down – it had tall, skinny glass windows that let in bars of sunlight and the floor was made of what looked like limestone. There was the faint smell of peppermint and willow bark in the air, sweet and tangy.

"You love this girl. I'd say I'm impressed, but war makes adults out of children all the time." Luna said and at once Ginny realized that she was dreaming. She continued to follow after the impostor, wanting to demand that she stop using Luna's form but knew it would be useless to even waste the breath needed for it. Her fingers ached with the cold, like she was 12 again and had played too long in the snow with just her mittens and no warming charms.

"I thought I was done with my inheritance – I failed." She said sharply and Not-Luna laughed a throaty, wild sound that Ginny recognized from the many times her girlfriend would laugh when she was tickled.

"You failed that test, true. This is another one." Not-Luna said once she'd calmed down.

"What's your name?" Ginny asked before she could lose her nerve. Not-Luna stopped walking for a few moments, as if shocked or perhaps distracted, before she wiggled her shoulders and continued.

"Whatever you want it to be, darling." Not-Luna responded flippantly.

"I might as well call you Selene if you're going to take Luna's form all the time." Ginny grumbled, mostly to herself.

"What has three heads, two hearts, and laughs when it roars?" Selene asked. Ginny blinked at the non-sequitur before thinking it over. They came to a stop in front of an ornate door with carvings of lion heads on it and there was a door knocker in the shape of hippogriff claws in the center. All in all, the entire thing looked tacky.

"A Cerberus." She answered and Selene reached out to touch the door knocker. The door swung open, light cutting through Selene's form, and the three blue lights shown brilliantly for a few moments, the light almost blinding, before they extinguished completely.

"This is your test. Find what needs to be found." Selene said and her form vanished like fog.

Snow swallowed her feet, brittle like dying grass and just as warm. She squinted against the sudden light reflecting off the surrounding snow, a frozen wasteland spread out around her. She walked, snow crunching under her feet and sinking like mud between her toes. It pricked and sometimes stung her, like blades of high grass, but she wasn't cold.

She walked until her legs burned; the snow up around her calves and clinging to her like the mud from the chicken coops at home, sweat dripped down her neck and clung to her hair. She was acutely aware of how blissed out the feeling of being hot down to her bones made her feel – she'd been so cold for such a long time it almost seemed like she'd never experience warmth again.

'Find what needs to be found, huh?' She thought, annoyed at the vagueness of the statement. She sunk down onto her knees, feeling the snow engulf her waist like water, and her legs ached like they had when she was younger, chasing after her brothers on summer days. Percy used to play tag with them, the twins always wanted to be it so they could chase after everyone else. Bill would roar with laughter at them all, holding a book that would be forgotten the second Charlie tackled him. Ron used to get purposely caught if it looked like she was getting tired – he'd chase after their brothers until she recovered enough energy to rejoin them. Their mother would come out with lunch and drinks, hollering at them all to gather round so she could perform cleaning charms on their hands and faces before eating.

She tilted her head up, letting the sunlight warm her face, smiling at the memories. She would never have those moments again – her mother and Percy were both gone forever. Bill was getting married, a proper adult, and Ron was so serious now and the twins…she didn't recognize them sometimes. Their minds sharped towards war and escapes, ambushes and weapons, not laughter and pranks. She couldn't remember the last time either of them had performed an actual prank.

And now they had gone to France and she feared she'd never see them again.

And Charlie, her sweet brother who carried hurt birds and lizards into his room, who always knew where to tickle her to make her shriek with laughter, who let her sleep in his bed when she was so small thunder still scared her – she didn't even know if he was alive. Surely if he had made it back to Romania, there would have been word from him by now. The borders around Egypt were newly closed, he had time to get back to the sanctuary and get them an owl or a floo call. But there had been nothing. And there was no clock to tell them if he was alright, it had gone up in flames with their childhood home.

"I don't want him to be dead." She said to no one and anyone listening. She wanted to tell the world that she missed him, wanted someone (anyone) to tell her that he was safe or not. She just wanted to know, for sure, one way or another.

She didn't have time for endless riddles and tests. She needed to be awake and aware for the remaining members of her family. Her father wouldn't eat unless someone sat with him; Ron and Hermione would run themselves ragged unless someone demanded they sleep and eat; Fleur would work herself into the ground, trying to be everywhere at once, unless someone was there to forcibly take some tasks from her. The twins had left but they might need information or support and she needed to be able to give them whatever they might need.

She stood up, brushing the warm snow from her legs and skirt; she couldn't afford to be lounging around in sunlight and childhood memories. It was a beautiful dream, but that's all it was – a dream. And it was time to wake up.

She opened her eyes to the ceiling of her room, moonlight coming in from the open window. She was wrapped in the thick blankets she had taken to sleeping in, the wool socks around her feet uncomfortably hot and probably soaked through with sweat. She felt like she was boiling under the multiple layers of blankets and the sweltering heat of the room.

When she kicked her way out of the heat and tangled blankets, she could see Selene at the window, the three blue lights from her dream back above her head. It was easier to tell her apart from Luna now that she was seeing her in the waking world: her hair was a touch darker and she had broader shoulders.

"Good job, you found it." She said, not turning around as Ginny shrugged out of her sleeping robe and night clothes – even her underwear was sticking to her uncomfortably, she'd have to take a quick shower to get even a little comfortable.

"Found what exactly?" Ginny responded, grabbing her brush and a towel.

"Your spine." Selene said smugly. Ginny paused in gathering a new set of panties and another shirt to sleep in. She was naked, sweaty, and tired but she still wanted to march over to the woman and punch her square in the mouth. Selene chuckled as she faded from view, one of the lights leaving the crown of her head to float over to Ginny, where it touched her nose before extinguishing.

She looked out her window, out at the night sky and the stars swirling high above her. There were clouds coming in, tomorrow would be shady in the morning for the merchants at least. Maybe her father would like to go with her to the morning marketplace, would like to get out of the house and into the sunlight. She would buy them breakfast and when they got home she could floo Blaise and ask to speak to Luna.

She missed her girlfriend.

The carrions are screeching as they circle, the ground below them rolling as various creatures fight for whatever scraps of flesh remain on the slain soldiers. Wands and guns alike strew the field as blood soaks into the mud. Something in the mess of writhing darkness twists to look elsewhere, and twists into a long misshapen hand with three fingers too many. The long arm shoots forward, the eight fingers clenching around –

He's in Hogwarts rather suddenly, sunlight streaming through the windows, the stone under his bare feet warm. Faceless students walk aimlessly past him and the uniforms he can see are from a plethora of different eras –the sweeping skirts from the 1870's; the triangular robes from the 1780's; the sleeveless outer robes from the 1920's; and the closest circle around him are all wearing the latest uniform.

When he looks down, he finds that he's wearing his own mishmash of a uniform – the skirt that belonged to Aife Korasaki, the shirt that belonged to Harry Potter, and the thin and bright yellow outer robes of Trilion Fealyo.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find you here." Draco says as he comes out of the mass of faceless students. He's dressed in his own robes and his hair is down. His bangs have grown out so they can be pushed behind his ears, when did that happen?

"I'm nothing if not predictable, at least in these things." He responds and reaches out to hold Draco's hand. The hand that curls around Draco's does not belong to Harry Potter – they're too small and the skin color is wrong – but he recognizes the deformed ring finger and the mass of raised scaring on the back of it. His name had been Cordilla McGain, a tiny thing with a crooked jaw and an allergy to peanuts.

"I feel like you should look more stitched together, like some mismatched Inferi, but you really don't. It's strange; I can tell which parts of you are Harry and which parts of you aren't, but I can only recall a few of the names." Draco says, running his thumb across the raised scars on the back of his hand. "Didn't I used to paint these, during the solstices?" Draco asks, sounding unsure.

"Yes, you used to use berry dye. It was a kindness." He answers, remembering the way the scent would linger for hours afterwards.

"I miss you, you know. I've missed you for months but even now I feel like you're so far away." Draco says and for the first time in a long time, Harry feels the echo of Draco's yearning and aches with it.

"I know that feeling." He says, remembering what it was like to long for Draco, even when they were shouting at each other or across the Great Hall acting like they weren't trying to get the other's attention. What it was like to watch Draco say something or do something and ache so suddenly with the want to just skip all the hard parts and go back to the way they were before they'd both died.

Draco reaches out with his other hand to caress Harry's cheek and –

Harry wakes up in the bed he and Draco share. Draco himself is awake and staring at the ceiling next to him but they're still holding hands at least. He loves this cottage, loves the feeling of safety it gives him, the illusion that the rest of the world doesn't exist and it's just them.

"We don't have to do anything, anymore. We don't have to fight, if you don't want to. We can run, go anywhere you want; I won't care where we are as long as we're together." Draco says into the darkness of the room and he turns onto his side to look at Harry seriously. Harry stares at him in shock, not sure where this is coming from but knowing he has to say something.

"We can't – the people –" He starts, feeling the world outside their sanctuary pressing in again, the enormity of his failure pressing against him. Erus must be stopped, must be put down. But every time he tries to think of a way to do it, every failure over the ages comes back into sharp focus and he can't do anything about it. What can he do against a force of nature such as Erus, when before he couldn't even -

"Fuck the people!" Draco yells, breaking Harry's thought process. He sits up and looks down at Harry with an intense look in his eyes. "We're done enough for the people; we've spent centuries doing things for other people, can't we be selfish for once? I want to be selfish! I want to go back to how things were, just a few years ago, where all I cared about was getting my own way and damn everyone else! I want to run away from all my problems and let someone else deal with them!" He continues and Harry feels his stomach sink and chest tighten.

'He wants to go back to that? But where does that leave me?'

"Let's run away and let someone else deal with this. We can go to Africa, somewhere we've never been, make a house somewhere out of the way." Draco finishes in a whisper, longing in his voice and Harry closes his eyes against the temptation of that idea.

"And what would we do there?" He asks.

"Whatever we wanted. I could finish my potions apprenticeship, you could teach, if you wanted, or make children's dolls or sleep all day. I don't know. We could do whatever we wanted and just forget all of this – let someone else deal with it for once." Draco says and a large part of Harry wants to do just that.

Why should he be the one that has to solve all the world's problems? Why can't he go off with Draco and just live the rest of their lives out in peace, far away from everyone and everything they'd both known? Hasn't he tried to fix the mistakes of the past, over and over again? Hasn't he failed at every path, hasn't he just been making things worse?

Why can't they just leave and let things fall where they fall?

Something inside of him rolls and writhes at the very thought, but he is so tired.

He feels Draco's fingers on his cheeks and opens his eyes to see him looking down at him with something like pity. It makes his chest tighten and for a moment, he remembers another set of eyes staring at him in pity before telling him that their daughter hadn't lived through the birth. It knocks the breath out of him, leaves him aching.

"You won't though, will you?" Draco says and it's not really a question.

"I feel responsible." Harry admits and isn't that the worst part of this whole thing? There is no one left to clean this shit up because no one remembers how. No one has the knowledge to even know where to start to try and fix the massive problem that is Erus – it's an old problem from an old time and he is all that is left.

Erus will not stop with the northern islands. He will spread, like a plague or a raging fire, until he consumes everything in his path; until there isn't anything to eat anymore, nothing to pull magic and strength from, until the whole planet is nothing but death and despair. He has swallowed his maker, swallowed the one person who could have commanded him, and it's in his nature to go and devour until there's nothing left.

The gods themselves wouldn't try to stop him until he came for them – what do they care that one world is utterly wiped out? They have millions of others and Erus can't get to any of them, not once they slam the preferable door in his face.

"Did you help create him?" Draco asks.

"No, of course not! How could you ask that of me?! I tried my best to get him to stop making Erus; I got branded a traitor and thrown in prison for it! Merlin killed my men and turned the whole Empire against me! And then he wouldn't listen to me when I broke out and tried to help fix his mistake, once it was apparent that it had gone out of his control." Harry spat out, angry at the accusation.

"Then how are you responsible for it?" Draco cut in; cutting off what would have become a rather loud and angry rant.

"I trained Merlin and allowed him access to the documents that he used to make Erus." Harry says quietly, looking down at his hands. "I know that doesn't make me culpable, I get it, but that doesn't change the way I feel. If I had done something different, if I hadn't saved his life so many times, if I hadn't spent so many lifetimes not doing anything concrete about Erus' containment, this might not have happened."

"This might come as a shock to you, but you're not actually a god for all that people have taken to calling you one throughout the centuries." Draco says dryly.

"Oh, fuck you; I don't think I'm a god." Harry says and rolls out of bed. He won't sit here and be talked to like that, not even by Draco.

"Really, so you just think you're responsible for everyone's actions and should have been able to handle everything yourself, is that it? Right, that doesn't sound at all like a god complex to me." Draco retorts and follows him out, grabbing a robe to throw over his sleep pants.

"It's not like that. This might come as a shock to you, but I take responsibility for my failures!" He says testily.

"And other people's failures, too! That's the problem! You can't take responsibility for what Merlin did, Harry, it doesn't work like that! It's not your job to fix his mistakes, gods be damned! If you want to do this, do it because you want to not because you feel you have to clean up after him. It's been over a thousand years, you have to accept that fact that doing this will not bring him back and make him the little boy you helped raise!" Draco shouted.

"He's not at fault here! He didn't know what he was doing!"

"Oh, come off it, Harry! He was a power hungry bastard that bit off more than he could chew and it got him killed! It got his family almost wiped out of existence but you spared his youngest daughter because that's who you are! Getting yourself killed, over and over, trying to fix his mistakes isn't going to bring him back or get him to forgive you for murdering him!" Draco says hotly and Harry wants to punch him. He wants to lash out and scream at him, wants to make him hurt for saying such things.

"It's not like that." He says coldly instead of hitting him.

"I may not remember all of it, but I remember this much: You killed him after he went off the rails and ever since you've been trying to fix that decision. Trying to excuse him, helping his decedents keep their fortune and power in tact throughout the ages, and trying to keep them alive even at the cost of your own life or mine. He's dead, Harry, he's dead and he's never coming back to you. The last of his children is dead in front of Hogwarts and you can't bring him back – he's gone, Harry. He's gone." Draco says and Harry is mortified to realize that his eyes are filling with tears.

"I'm aware of that." Harry says and refuses to let the tears fall. He leaves the room, wanting away from this conversation. He knows that truth better than anyone, he was the one who did the deed after all, who hunted his sons and damned them to death. He was the one who stood over his daughter and almost struck her from the world, almost went through with it and dealt the final blow, but he couldn't.

Why should she have to pay for her father and brother's sins? She had no part in their decisions; she was a child, why did she deserve to die?

Draco grabs his arm and spins him around, taking his face in his hands.

"You listen to me, Harry Potter. This is not your fault. It's not your fault any more than its Aife Korasaki's fault that Tom Riddle was possessed, made into a host, and ripped apart his very soul to try and contain the parasite inside him. That wasn't your fault. Things happen, bad things, but you can't stop them from happening just because you have a death god's favor. This is not your fault, my love." Draco says, staring at him like his words didn't just cleave Harry open.

"I have to help them." Harry whispers, finally. "I'll never forgive myself if I don't."

Draco leaned forward (and down, he'd gotten so tall and Harry hadn't really noticed) and pressed their foreheads together.

"I know you do, I just want you to know that you aren't obliged to help them. You wouldn't be who I fell in love with, over and over again, if you did anything other than help them. But, you can't do this thinking that you have to fix Merlin's mistakes. It's time to let him go, Harry. The last of his line is dead; it's time to let him go."

He shakes his head and he can't even muster the mortification over the fact that he can feel tears rolling down his face.

He hadn't done anything to even try to save Albus, hadn't tried harder to protect him. He hadn't done anything all those years ago when his little sister had been killed, when Gellert broke his heart, when his brother abandoned him. He had been so mistrustful of the older man, especially after the muck up regarding Tom and Diamond, and sometimes he used to think that it would be better for everyone if the old meddler was just gone.

But now he was and there was no one left. Merlin's last heir, the last person with his blood flowing through their veins, with a mangled pronunciation of the name he'd given to Merlin's daughter to spare her life – he was dead.

Merlin's line was gone.

He hid his face in Draco's chest, his heart breaking.

Neville flings fire and curses alike as the monsters rush the line. Next to him, muggles are firing their guns and the bullets seem to have just as much effect as the curses – little to none at all.

"FALL BACK!" Someone yells loud enough to be heard over the noise and something small hits Neville right in the chest, sharp claws digging into his stomach. He punches at it and apparates away as the portkeys around the muggle soldier's necks react to the password and activate. He reappears some yards behind the line, clutching at his stomach. There's too much blood coming out of the wound and the material of the gloves on his hands is burning away - just what he's always wanted: a stomach wound with something acidic making it worse.

He staggers into a tent and a mediwizard rushes up to fix him, spells flying out of their lips faster than Neville can translate them. A cream is rubbed into the wound as it closes up.

Outside, the mines explode. An unholy screeching accompanies it and the sound makes the hair on his arms stand straight up, when he comes out of the tent a few minutes later the line is strewn with body parts, mud, and sludge from the creatures. Some things are still twitching. The stump where his arm should be itches as if in response.

The ground shakes as more of the creatures come over the hill, dark shapes in the night. The new line will form two kilometers away from here and he hears the medical tents collapse into themselves as they're portkeyed away.

'Fred and George Weasley are geniuses' He thinks before he vanishes, not wanting to be the last one out of camp. Sunrise is in two hours.

"They're going to lose the entire coastline." Eleanor said grimly. Out of the two of them, her Spanish was better understood – Luna understood and read Spanish better than she spoke it. Luna trailed her eyes over the information gathered around them and silently conceded the point.

"What they need is a way to contain the creatures. Most of the species they're fighting haven't been seen, much less killed, since the Roman Empire still ruled these parts." Commander Ramon said.

"Right now, I'd argue the Dementors are the bigger threat! They're feasting!" A politician that Luna couldn't remember the name of said, slamming her hand down on the table in emphasis.

"They're behind the rush of creatures so I'd say you have that backwards!" Carisa DeLue – another politician, the one who supported sending troops to the French – said.

"Dementors can walk in sunlight." The politician – Cordez? Berues? – retorted.

"They are both threats, there's no need to raise our voices at each other." Eleanor cut in, trying to soothe the ruffled feathers.

"What would you know about threat assessment; you've only been in one battle!" Pandeiz said harshly, the general had been against allowed them into these meetings since the beginning. Commander Ramon pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"I know enough to acknowledge that we're still just talking about the front troops and not the actual threat commanding them!" Eleanor snapped back. Luna sighed and pushed away from the table. They'd go around like this for ages and not get a thing settled.

They'd gotten formal permission to attend these meetings because they were one of them few people to actually see the new Dark Lord. Based on their information and accounts, the news that Voldemort was defeated by the Hollow Lord was spread around.

They called him many things, this new evil: The Hollow Lord, Shadow Foot, The One Who Walks, and Nameless God. She preferred to call him the Hollow Lord, it seemed fitting since Voldemort had to be hollowed out for him to come into the world. Both of them refused to call him a god – even a nameless one – and they corrected anyone they heard call him that in their hearing. They refused to call that thing a god because if it was, they were fucked. There would be no winning and that was unacceptable.

(A small part of her also thought that Harry wouldn't approve of calling it a god either and if anyone would know what qualifies as a god, it would be Harry. At least, that was Luna's perspective on things. She missed him so much, hoped he was okay.)

She entered Blaise's house and found Ginevra drinking coffee with the girls. Her hair had grown, flowing down her back like molten lava and her freckles stood out against her nose and cheeks. She was wearing grey and silver robes with short sleeves that showed off the thick, jagged scar running down her right arm. The ring on her finger seemed to fit her perfectly even though it alone was the only piece of jewelry she wore. The other girl stood to greet her, smiling widely, and Luna nearly bowed her over with a hug.

Ginevra laughed, her arms tight around Luna's waist, and she was radiating heat. Luna pulled back enough to kiss the other girl, sliding her fingers into Ginevra's hair and holding on. It had been months since they last saw each other, even longer than that since Luna got to touch her, kiss her, and hold her. Ginevra smelt of the sun, the dry heat of a desert and the earthy scent of sand, and as she opened her mouth under Luna's there was a hint of mint and apples. She realized in a flash that she was snogging her girlfriend rather passionately in front of two girls who only knew her as a slightly strange and war-concentrated young woman and pulled away abruptly.

"Don't stop on our account – by all means, continue to forget our existence and tear your girlfriend's clothes off and have your way with her." Valerie said dryly.

"Don't be crass." Ginevra said and she sounded remarkably like Professor McGonagall just then. It was a strange comparison to make but she thought that at least the older woman would find it just as unsettling.

She wondered, for a moment, how the older woman had died and what had happened to her body. What about her own head of house, squeaky and kind Flitwick? Had they been at the Ministry when it had failed? It seemed like that had been years ago so it was hard to remember.

"Weasley." Blaise said, stepping into the room and ending the increasingly morbid train of thought. Ginevra straightened her spine and gave the young man her full attention. "I heard about your mother – you have our utmost sympathies." He continued and inclined his head in respect and sincerity. Ginevra tightened her fingers around Luna's hand and for a moment Luna remembered her own mother – the softness of her smile, the deep rumble of her laugh, the smell of wind and grass that she carried with her – and could feel the old ache creep up on her. She never wanted anyone to have to feel that, much less someone as wonderful and beautiful as Ginevra, but life was seldom about what she wanted.

"Thank you, it means a lot that you're thinking of us; my condolences about your father, as well." Ginevra responded, very formal and grave. The maturity was a change from the stumbling girl that Luna was used to seeing but it wasn't a bad change. Blaise put a hand over his heart and inclined his head in thanks and acknowledgment.

Luna could see Blaise's mother behind him, half hidden in the shadows of the hallway. She looked like a wraith in this house, unhappy and trapped. Luna wished she would take the small trinkets she had prepared for the woman as she was full of sadness and the Billiowisps around her fed greedily.

As soon as the pleasantries were done, Luna towed Ginevra to the room she and Eleanor shared. The room was small and with two beds in it, it was a tight fit, but they really only used the room to sleep in so it worked out just fine.

"I have missed you." Ginevra said, squeezing Luna's hand and pulling her into a hug. They were the same height and Luna missed the days when she was small enough to snuggle under her girlfriend's chin.

"You're warm." Luna responded, because that was the thing that was sticking out to her as she snuggled into Ginevra's arms.

"I wanted to tell you something in person but now that you're in my arms, I really don't care." Ginevra said and kissed her again, sliding her hands into Luna's hair. Luna bit down on Ginevra's bottom lip, pressing closer and all but purring into the contact.

It was so easy to pull at her girlfriend until they were both on her bed, Ginevra atop her and kissing her over and over until Luna felt a little lightheaded at the attention. She tilted her head as Ginevra's mouth wandered and she let her hands map out the other girl's body. Her fingers dug into Ginevra's back while her legs parted to settle the other girl more comfortably atop her.

She mewled when Ginevra's teeth grazed against her collarbone, scratching at the girl's sleeves, trying to paw the robe off through will rather than any actual effort. Ginevra chuckled lowly at her actions, leaning up shrug the robe off, leaving her in a bra and some shorts, before she ducked back down to lick and suck at Luna's throat.

"Luna, I need to – OH!" The door slammed open as Eleanor came in at a fast clip, her voice loud and unwelcome. Luna groaned and pushed Ginevra off of her, sitting up to talk to their friend.

"What is it?" She asked, aware that she had left talks unfinished – did they come to a conclusion while she was gone?

"Oh, umm, the decision was made. There's going to be one last legion sent to try and contain the creatures and then the Spanish are warding the entire country. It's going to be locked down pretty tightly, similar to Egypt and the rest of Africa. They're going to give a week for anyone who wants to leave the country to get out because once the wards go up they'll be up for two years. There was also some pretty intensive shouting about resources and the technical aspects of such things – it got pretty ugly – but the decision was made. The Queen also sent in some information – I won't bore you with it, it was mostly technical things regarding the separation between muggle and magical and food, things of that nature – and I handed over Ron's parchment spell so the military could keep in touch with the government officials once they're over there." Eleanor explained while she steadfastly looked at the wall.

Luna held her hand out for Ginevra's robe as Eleanor spoke, handing it back to the other girl once it floated into her grasp.

"Have you spoken to Blaise yet?" Luna asked and Eleanor shook her head. Ginevra combed her fingers through her hair once she's pulled her robe back on and Luna rolled off her bed, displeased with the interruption.

"Wait, before you go to tell him, I do have something to say. I just got…distracted." Ginevra said seriously and her tone was enough to make Eleanor finally look at them again. "My inheritance finally came to me – turns out I finally passed the test for it. I'm heading to Russia to test a theory I have about some of it."

"Russia? Last I heard the whole place was in a state of civil unrest. We'll need a little time to prepare, to think about the best approach to things, especially about what to do if we need to fight. Maybe Blaise will have some advice for us on what to bring monetary-wise…" Eleanor said as she headed out of the room, towards Blaise's study, and Ginevra blinked after her in shock.

"You thought we'd stay here." Luna commented quietly.

"It had crossed my mind, yes." Ginevra admitted, but she reached out for Luna's hand and squeezed it firmly. "I had hoped you would come with me, but I wasn't expecting Eleanor to just…be so willing to come along as well." She continued.

"Do you not want her to come?" Luna asked. Ginevra choked on air and looked mortified for a moment before she spoke again, fast and frantic.

"Of course I want her to come! I have no idea what I'm going to be doing and it'll be good to have more than just you and me there in case things get dicey. She's our friend!"

"We should help her explain things to Blaise – she's right, he might have some ideas we could use or some advice on this type of thing." Luna said once her girlfriend was done verbally spazzing. She would have to submerge herself in a tub of water tonight, just to see if the water would whisper anything to her.

Ginevra's hand was warm in her grip the entire walk to Blaise's study.

Hermione watched as Ron checked something, brow furrowed as he unrolled a scroll with his wand, his other hand holding a small tapestry up as he double checked something.

"I think if we combine this with a sealing charm it would be enough power to contain at least a thousand of the creatures as they go over it. If someone sears it into either a dry area of land or a road, it should be able to draw enough power from the lay lines." He said, jotting some notes down to relay to the Goblin Nation at their meeting tonight. They were coordinating a lot of communication between the Egyptian government and the military forces they sent to France.

"I'll check the arithmancy for it and double check the runes before we take it to the meeting." Hermione said and Ron hummed, still writing out his notes.

"Are you going to be done in time for the meeting?" Hermione asked and Ron hummed an affirmative.

Hermione left Ron to his notes and maneuvered her way out of their study room to head towards the kitchen. She wanted some tea and since there was still at least an hour to their meeting, she might as well get some now.

It was amusing, in a kind of morbid way, to think that she and Ron were authoring an academic paper together. Even a year ago, this paper would be enough to gain them both at least two separate masteries and published in every major magical journal around the world. It was the result of months of research, hours of failed experiments and false starts, of long sleepless nights, and it was a marvel of alchemy and arithmancy, if she did say so herself. It would need an actual ritual circle and two focus points to enact because it drew power from the kinetic energy of the people who would walk over the ritual circle.

She was incredibly proud of all the work she and Ron had done and she hoped tonight's meeting would end in success.

She found Mr. Weasley in the kitchen, a mug in his hands as he hummed to himself and stared at a far wall. He didn't seem to notice her as she got her own mug and got a teabag prepared; waving her wand at the kettle to reheat what water was left in it. She was running low on her blend of tea and made a metal note to go to the market soon. She poured the hot water into her mug, flicking an aguamenti at the kettle to refill it, and almost spilled it when she turned around to find Mr. Weasley looking at her.

"Oh! Uhm, hello, Mr. Weasley." She stammered and felt her ears burn. She thought he was having a quiet moment to himself, but she must have misread the situation.

"Hello, Hermione." Mr. Weasley said with a soft smile. "Do you have a few minutes?" He continued and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, of course; Ron is finishing up so I've got time." She said lamely and sat down at the little table in the kitchen. Mr. Weasley sat down across from her and took a sip from his mug. She wondered what kind of tea he enjoyed or if it even was tea – she'd never actually asked him what kind of tea he preferred. Dean and Seamus liked Darjeeling with honey and milk, she remembered that, and she remembered that Neville liked Earl Grey with lemon slices.

What a strange thing to remember about her old friends. She clenched her mug tighter and tried not to let herself wonder if Neville was even alive. The last she heard, he had gone to the front lines but that had been some time ago – she had no way of knowing if he was even still alive or not.

Harry would know, she thought to herself, certain of it. He always seemed to know everything, so surely he would be able to figure that out himself.

"It occurs to me that we haven't really had a chance to talk since we came here. I thank you for your patience, considering how hectic and sudden things have been, but I feel we should really talk." Mr. Weasley said, bringing her back to the present.

"Yes, I'm…well, yes, we haven't really had the opportunity." Hermione replied and she wondered if she could drown herself in her tea.

She took a sip.

"Thank you, Hermione, for all that you did with Molly. None of us had to ask you for your help and it made things easier, being able to count on your help and support." Mr. Weasley said and Hermione nodded dumbly, not sure what to say to that. I'm sorry seemed too redundant and not enough all at once.

"I miss her." Stumbled out of her mouth and before she could really stop herself, more words were flowing off her tongue and out into the ether. "It seems so unfair of me to miss her when I don't miss my own mother but there you have it. When I'm having a bad day, I find myself wishing she was still here so I could talk to her about what's bother me or eat some of her fudge. And that seems so unfair because those last few months; she wasn't able to do that for me. Whenever I wake up with tangles in my hair, I know how to get them out because of the things she taught me. Whenever I get monthly cramps, I pull out her recipe for the potion to help me just so I can see her handwriting. I miss her more than I miss my own mother and I know that's awful because she's not really my mother."

Mr. Weasley was holding her hand and she wasn't crying, but only because she had cried all her tears out.

"It's not awful; you're not a bad person for your feelings, Hermione. Molly and I had long thought of you as our daughter…in-law." Mr. Weasley said and Hermione laughed at the belated joke.

"Thank you." She squeezed his hand back.

"I didn't really get the chance to say anything when everything with your parents went down. Everything just seemed to happen all at once, so we – I – didn't get a chance to say anything…" Mr. Weasley trailed off awkwardly and Hermione took a breath.

"Everything did happen all at once and you and Mrs. Weasley did exactly what I needed you to do. You let Ron handle it; you let him take me home." She said and it still hurt her, not just the rejection and abandonment of her parents but also the fact that she was robbed of her chance to reconnect as an adult with them.

She didn't have any bodies to bury, didn't have the concrete knowledge that her parents hadn't made it out of the United Kingdom before it became an island of death and ruin. She still had no idea if the baby her mother had would have been a girl or a boy – if they made it out, she wouldn't know that child from any other in the world. If they didn't make it out...can you be an older sibling with no younger? At least with Mrs. Weasley, she had a grave here and had found her body – there wasn't any uncertainty there.

"I'm always here if you need anything, Hermione, even if it's just someone to talk to. Also, feel free to call me Arthur, you're an adult now, for all that your majority is still a year away." Mr. Wea – Arthur said and Hermione nodded, taking her hand back to take another drink of her tea.

[INSERT BATTLE OF FRANCE HERE]

Nevill's fire whip is very helpful against the dementors that come out but they don't die

The last stand happens at an old Church by the sea

The water makes things very difficult for both sides, which is why it was chosen

Fred and George have no way of linking the Egyptian blood magic to Harry, so they have to chose someone there. They chose Neville because of how close he is to Harry astrologically- both of them born within 12 hours of each other, from lines that are connected through blood and marriage, and their magic overlaps in talents just enough that it will hopefully help

They had wanted to use it for Erus but that is clearly not going to be an option – they're all going to die in this church, it's very apparent, and the least they can do it make sure this part of the army is stuck behind a barrier that will suck all the creatures dry

And so they do

They die in a blaze of glory and it seals the creatures – but the Dementors move on and Erus is still coming

Ginny, Luna, and Eleanor go to Russia.

Blaise wishes them luck and gives them some supplies.

Charlie is there! He's alive and he has DRAGONS with him

They're literally protecting the old Russian borders with DRAGONS because god, isn't that fucking cool? All sorts of different dragons and not just the typical western idea of dragons – serpent-y dragons, wyverns, dragons who can breath lightening, dragons with feathers, S

Anyway, Ginny and Charlie are really happy to see each other and then she tells him that their mother is dead and it's awful and there is tears

There's a huge ice wall along the continental border that is strewn with the bodies of dark creatures and also corpses because Erus has been making Inferi

Ginny's inheritance is the ability to control the Dementors – she takes up the protection of the eastern field with Eleanor being her communication director, essentially. Originally, I was going to just make her the next Tzar, but that will probably be a thing that happens down the line when she's an adult. Her inheritance will eventually come to full fruition with the absorption of Selene, which will also unname her as a Weasley. This allows her to take up an old name, one that will be hers to start anew: Romanova.

And I finally get the chance to explain why Ginny being born a girl makes her super powerful, cause I will never be over the fact that JKR made such a big deal of Ginny being the seventh daughter in interviews and in fandom spaces – like conventions and the old forums – and then dropping it completely. In this case, it was because the line of Weasley comes from Anastasia Romanova, who fled from the civil war to Britain and in an attempt to hide herself made herself into a male. She fell in love and married and from then, there was only males born – until Ginny. The first true heir of Anastasia and that would have been normal and all good – but then she was possessed by Tom Riddle who tried to eat her magic and use her soul to come back. And that awakened her inheritance because she's meant to control soul suckers, not be a meal for something like one. And then Harry got more involved with her life and introduced her more to older magic, which made her magical core stronger.

Ginny pulls all the dementors to her to help the protection of the eastern field, which really helps prevent more of Europe and the Atlantic islands from being invades and destroyed.

The Americas

With Erus rampaging and awakening all the fell and dark things in the world, North and South America also fell under their traditional wards – but for them it was mostly the boarders from when the Inca were still around and that magic powered up the Aztec wards which set off more dormant wards from various other indigenous peoples. So, they've been trying to work out how to communicate with each other much less the rest of the world

But they did figure out how to communicate with each other! And then with the rest of the world, which is good because a south american tribe have a ritual circle that might seal Erus away.

Spoiler alert, it's gonna work

Harry & Draco

They have sex finally. That was not supposed to take so long to get to, but at first Harry had some hangups regarding his background with sex – notably that a lot of his exposure to sex this lifetime was against his will in some form or another, which really fucked him up. And then there was a LITERAL WORLD SHATTERING WAR going on. But, they have sex finally and Draco's memories all come back. It's pretty overwhelming.

Harry and Draco have a conversation about Salazar Slytherin finally because apparently Draco has been thinking that Harry was in love with him for literal centuries and just never brought it up.

"It's not my business, really, I wasn't even around and - "

"Not your business? Who else's business would it be?" Harry cut him off incredulously. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and made an aggravated sound.

"Harry, honey, I know. I've known for centuries about the way you feel about Salazar. It's okay, I don't blame you or even think it was a betrayal or anything like that. I wasn't around, he was, and I could never even dream of trying to dictate who you sought comfort from or even who you loved. It's not my business – I love you now, I've loved you before, I'll love you after this too. I know you. I don't – it's never bothered me. It never will." Draco said and he felt...

Harry didn't really understand the tangle of grief and love there. There was something so gentle there too, but Draco's words weren't right.

"You thought – by Hecate, for centuries? You've thought this for centuries?" Harry said, feeling blown away by the realization.

"Darling, I was dead. I wouldn't want – I would never want - " Draco started and Harry cut him off again, crawling back into his lap to grab Draco's face in his hands. Draco's eyes were so startlingly clear and beautiful, but there was something uncertain in them, something clouding them over.

"It would have been easy, loving him." Harry admitted quietly. He'd never spoken about this before, not to anyone, but it felt good to get this out. Like unrolling a bandage and seeing the closed over skin. "It would have been like gravity; like walking off a step and knowing there was another one close by to catch you. He was wonderful – brilliant and funny, charming, cunning – he loved his family, he loved his friends, he loved animals, especially dangerous ones. He was beautiful and dangerous; sometimes I would look at him and be reminded of you, other times he was nothing like you. I spent decades by his side, from the time we were both children. I watched him fall in love, I watched him marry a women he didn't love to make his parents happy, I debated with him over theories and magic, I helped him design and start Hogwarts. I wasn't there when he died, but I was with Godric when he got the news.

"It would have been like gravity, loving Salazar. But what use is gravity if you can't breathe? What use did I have for anyone else, when I had you? I waited for you, for years, and you never came. When Salazar thought he was in love with some boy in the tower, when we were teenagers, I told him about you, about the way I feel about you, about how sometimes if I thought about you for too long my bones would ache for you, my magic would shudder inside of me, twisting everything inside of me in pain and longing." Harry pressed his forehead to Draco's, closing his eyes and pushing those memories away.

"I loved Salazar, he was my family, but I was never in love with him. It's always been you, since that day in the square when we first met. I have loved you, have mourned you, have longed for you, have missed you, have been ecstatic to meet you, have been furious with you, but it's always been you."

Draco pulled Harry into a kiss, rough and demanding, and it caught him off guard.

Hermione and Ron go into the fighting in Europe to meet Erus and his army. Their joint ritual circle works and it was put to use in Egypt and shared with Morocco to better stop the advancing army

Blaise gets word to Draco and Harry that Hermione and Ron are going back into the fighting

Harry and Draco join and the four of them are deadly and awe-inspiring. Erus does come out finally, Voldemort's corpse rotting around him as a shell. It's kinda like a caterpillar's cocoon around something that rolls and shifts under the peeling skin and viscera, magic and power shining out from between the cracks. Sometimes there's eyes that peak out as well and Erus all around just looks and feels foul and Not Right

Erus is defeated via the south american ritual circle that calls upon Thanatos and Hades which is a good thing because Harry is there and he's already a beloved child of theirs. It means not as many people needed to die to get the damn thing to work.

As a payment for their help, more Necromancers will be born than ever before, as they're born via their union. Necromancers might be born in twins or triplets and their will be more than one every few generations. It's a big deal because that means the lay lines will also get more power from the recycling of dark and light magic

With the end of Erus and the utter destruction left behind means that the separation between magical and non-magical people is no longer a thing. And with so many creatures coming back out of near or complete extinction, many ancient wards popping back up, there's also a good chance that non-magical humans are going to go back to being the minority as they were before Rome.

Luna and Ginny get married in Russia and Ginny is formally recognized as the heir of the Romanova clan and she is elected as the leader of foreign affairs which also gives her control of most of the armed forces because of her control of the Dementors, which now call Siberia home.

Hermione and Ron get married in several different countries with different ceremonies. They live primarily in the Ottoman Empire so they are close to Bill and Fluer in Egypt (and their father Arthur, who lives with them to help out with their children) and Ginny, Charlie, and Luna in Russia. They both become Masters in ritual circle making and alchemy. They're also involved in various political movements.

Blaise adopts the Moon sisters as his heirs, not just his sisters.

Harry and Draco spend years in the United Kingdom, going through the swath of bodies. They get an accurate count of victims and the most accurate list of names of the dead from there. Draco is actually the one that suggests reopening Hogwarts as a school for Necromancy.

It's eerie to go back to the castle. The ghosts were eaten, which upsets Harry and Draco both because both of them knew many of them in life and death. But, with the sheer amount of death and dead things in the United Kingdom (it's so bad that even years later, the islands are referred to as the Isles of the Dead) Hogwarts is actually a great location for a formal school of necromancy.

There's never an answer for if Draco and Harry will continue to just reincarnate indefinitely or if there is something they can do to just stop that process.