Dogheart Man

There are no ranks and files; indeed, there are no armies in the Wizarding world. Wizards use short skirmishes and sieges rather that prolonged combat. Even during the Goblin Wars, combatants in any single battle numbered in the hundreds rather than the thousands and the battle itself was little more than a free for all, with only rudimentary tactics being used by either side. The Order of the Phoenix had more in common with guerilla forces than it did with any traditional Muggle armed forces. They were used to fighting in extremely small groups and the sort of wide scale tactics with which Muggle armies conducted themselves were patently useless in a wizard battle. The Order members were brave and many were seasoned fighters but they had no ties to the wizard government and fought as they saw fit.

When Severus appeared, he was already separated from the invisibility cloaked Hermione. Though they had been touching when the Portkeys activated, since they each used their own Portkey, they appeared in slightly different places. Wasting no time in a vain attempt to locate the invisible witch, Severus drew his wand and took a quick visual assessment of his surroundings.

The ground was fairly level but rocky, and in the fading sunlight Severus could see water scattered here and there. The air was crisp and smelled of peat. There were no trees, only a few scattered old stumps. Spotting a ridge of mountains to the southeast, Severus realized he knew where he was; he had been here before. They were in the Highlands in the midst of the desolate Ranoch Moor. It was obvious that Voldemort had not expected a fight when he chose a location with such treacherous footing.

Voldemort had been standing in a circle of perhaps thirty of his followers. The instant the members of the Order began to appear, the Death Eaters circle broke apart as they formed a rough but protective half circle before their Lord. The order would have to fight through this barrier before they could engage Voldemort himself. Severus had other plans.

Under normal conditions, only a very stoic wizard or a very foolish one would Apparate during a fight. For most people, the distraction of battle is far too invasive for a wizard to concentrate enough to Apparate without getting splinched. Not to mention the fact that one may Apparate in order to avoid one curse only to appear in front of another. Severus was not most people. As curses began flying, Severus took a hard look at where the Dark Lord stood and abruptly vanished.

Luckily for Hermione, her Portkey had brought her close to the edge of the action. Walking slightly farther away from where the other wizards were beginning to face off, Hermione took a quick look around. She already knew that the Order had arrived with twenty-two members; it looked like the Death Eaters had close to thirty. The forces of the light were certainly outnumbered, but not too badly. Hopefully, Hermione's projection would help them even the playing field. The abrupt disappearance of Severus distracted her for a moment and when she saw him reappear only a few feet from Voldemort her heart leaped into her throat. Well, that could only aid her with what she planned to project.

Fear. Though Andrene had showed Hermione all too plainly what risks one tempted by projecting fear in a battle, Hermione had never thought of anything more useful to try. After all, she wasn't attempting to stop the fight: Hermione knew that was beyond her fledgling powers. All she had to do in order to make her gift useful was to make the enemy hesitate or grow careless. This would hopefully be enough to give the Order a slight advantage. Finding it impossible to take her eyes off where Severus stood sneering before the Dark Lord, Hermione quieted her mind and began to project. Her fear for Severus' well being as he faced the toughest of foes easily fueled her projection.

A wave of reaction spread though the Death Eater forces. It was not as successful as Hermione had hoped. True, it did make most of them more hesitant and a single cloaked figure fled the field in terror. Moody managed to catch the fleeing Death Eater with a full body bind before he could escape by Apparating. The projection took a bit of the Death Eaters' edge away from them, but it was not enough of an effect to give the Order the advantage. It was all too apparent that the Death Eaters were well accustomed to fear. With no better idea at hand, Hermione intensified the projection as strongly as she could as the light of spell casting lit the twilight moor as bright as day.

To say that the Dark Lord was taken aback by the sudden appearance of a man he thought to be dead was an understatement. When Severus bypassed the Death Eaters to suddenly appear not ten feet from the Dark Lord himself, Voldemort's strange, reptilian eyes narrowed in surprise and he let loose a hiss of displeasure. Standing his ground, Severus returned his former master's regard with an expression of calm disdain. Knowing that it would take a miracle for him to survive this confrontation, he nevertheless expected to be able to hold his own for some time. The Cruciatus he could withstand indefinitely and most other curses he could block.

Indeed, the Avada Kedavra was the only curse he truly feared as there was no way to escape it save dodging. However, Severus knew that Voldemort was unlikely to throw the killing curse at him immediately. All the Unforgivables were very draining to the caster, but none so much as the killing curse. Voldemort was no fool. With the Order fighting and Harry so close to within his grasp, Voldemort would do what he could to ration his magical resources for the final confrontation. That is why Severus had decided to risk so much by seeking out this confrontation. With each hex and curse the Dark Lord wasted on him, Voldemort would be that much weaker when the Order broke through the Death Eater lines and Voldemort was forced to face off with Harry and Albus. The weaker the Dark Lord was at that time, the better off the forces of the light would be. In Severus' mind, it was worth any sacrifice.

"Snape," hissed Voldemort, "I would have thought the Dementors had taken care of you long ago. No matter. I know very well how little it takes to make you crawl." With a casual flick of his wand, Voldemort said, "Crucio!"

The hours of practicing with this curse that Severus and Draco had put in had all been leading up to this moment. The pain of the curse was immediate and strong, yet Severus never flinched and his disdainful regard of his former master never wavered. Affecting an almost bored tone of voice, Severus said, "Well, Tom, it appears that you do not know me as well as you have assumed. How very...disappointing."

Sputtering and hissing in rage, Voldemort reacted just as Severus had hoped. Ignoring the rest of the Order members who fought furiously to break through the Death Eaters' defense, Voldemort gave into his anger and focused completely on Snape. Ending the apparently useless Cruciatus, he began hexing the former Death Eater in earnest, throwing curse after curse toward the young upstart who dared defy him.

A seasoned duelist, Severus blocked everything the Dark Lord threw at him and managed to throw a few curses of his own. Neither wizard managed a hit on the other, but Severus had expected this. He also knew that his powers would exhaust themselves long before those of the madman he fought. His only aim in this seemingly useless display of bravery was to draw Voldemort's fire for as long as he could. If the fates were kind, it would be long enough for the forces of the light to break through the Death Eater line and allow Albus and Harry to face Voldemort before he caught his breath from dueling with Severus. If nothing else, it would keep Voldemort from attacking the rest of the Order while they fought their way through to him. Already feeling his powers beginning to weaken, Severus gritted his teeth and used every ounce of his stubborn will to keep fighting.

Hermione had it relatively easy during the battle. The Death Eaters were too concerned with foes they could see to worry about those they could not. Staying far to the edge of the action, Hermione was not in danger of anyone accidentally running into her. She did, however have to keep an eye on the occasional errant curse which came too close for comfort. Most of Hermione's attention was on the heated duel between Severus and his former master. Hermione found it all too easy to fuel her projection of fear as she watched the vicious and furious duel between the two wizards. Perhaps twenty minutes had passed since she had seen Severus appear before He Who Must Not Be Named, and it was obvious that Severus was beginning to tire.

Hoping that more of the Order would be able to join Severus soon, Hermione's eyes flew over the rest of the battle. It didn't look good. One more member of the Death Eaters had fled, and four more had been incapacitated by members of the Order. The numbers were now more even but it was woefully apparent that the Order was going to be too busy with Voldemort's followers to come to Severus' aid any time soon. Returning her gaze to where Severus fought, Hermione was the sole witness to the dreadful event that happened next.

Severus had been quite correct when he assumed that the Dark Lord would be cautious of weakening his powers prematurely by using the death curse. However, the minds of the mad are unpredictable and never easily understood by the sane. Severus was a logical thinker, but he had not taken into account the pure rage which now drove the man he dueled against. Voldemort had always considered Snape to be a weakling, a man easily led and easily cowed. Surprised to see the traitor not only alive, but also strong and mocking him as they fought, his rage knew no bounds. When Voldemort saw that the traitor was tiring, he threw caution to the winds and attacked with the speed of a striking snake.

"...Avada Kedavra!" he snarled, his wand sweeping down to point at Severus' chest as the green light of a spell launched itself straight toward Severus' heart.

Wide eyed with terror, Hermione heard the incantation clearly. She watched with growing horror as Severus threw himself, violently to the side in an attempt to dodge the lethal spell. He was not fast enough. As he lunged, the green light dealt him a glancing blow to the shoulder. Her eyes filling with sudden tears, Hermione watched the body of the man she loved slump to the ground.

Collapsing to her knees, for a moment it seemed as if the world had stopped turning in homage to the young witch's grief. The sounds of the battle faded from her mind, her tear-filled eyes saw nothing but the lifeless form lying before a wildly cackling Voldemort.

He has no idea what he has done, she thought. What do Death Eaters truly know about love, about loss. They have killed my heart. They have killed me. I will not let them go unpunished. I will not let them ignore what they have destroyed. My fear had little effect on them. Now, let them know my pain!

While Hermione had knelt, her sorrow turning to pain and wrath, she had not been using her Empath powers to project. The limited effect of the fear projection had died and the Death Eaters were fighting with renewed vigor. Voldemort had begun to attack the members of the Order from his position of safety. It seemed that the Death Eaters might drive the Order back. With an unbelievable suddenness, everything changed.

Her tear-drenched face lifted to the sky, Hermione began a new projection. With a towering rage which showed no mercy on the followers of the wizard who had killed her love, Hermione's Empathic skills reached new heights as she projected her grief. Rolling waves of sorrow, pain, and hopelessness washed over unprotected Death Eaters with immediate effect.

It was with great shock that the forces of the light watched their adversaries burst into sudden tears. There were a few who tried stubbornly to continue to fight, but their eyesight was impaired, their reactions slowed. The Order quickly incapacitated the few who were still trying to stand against them. The remaining Death Eaters were in no shape to harm anyone. Many had dropped and were now thrashing on the ground, tearing at themselves, tearing out their own hair as they wailed and wept. Several fled screaming out into the moor and Moody sent Remus and Sirius in fast pursuit lest they try to double back and cause trouble. Three of the Death Eaters turned their wands on themselves and were dead before they hit the ground.

In mere moments, all of the Death Eaters were bound and helpless--save one.

The man who had caused so much pain and loss obviously had no understanding of it himself. Hermione's projection had no effect on Voldemort whatsoever. He stood behind Severus' motionless form, gibbering in rage as he ordered his now defunct forces to stand and fight. In the end, his death was anticlimactic. As the Order gathered around the mad wizard, Albus quickly cast a spell to keep Voldemort from Apparating away.

In a fury, Voldemort launched a spell at the wizard he considered to be the true bane of his existence. Harry flinched as he saw the green light streaking towards him, however--as it had happened once before...a brilliant flash of green light appeared around Harry and the spell reflected back towards its master. Voldemort could block an Avada Kedavra no better than any other mortal. With a screech, he fell to the ground close to where Snape lay. When his spirit tried to rise and escape, Harry set his Patronus on it and the shimmering stag tore the dusky shade to bits.

For a moment, there was an unearthly stillness on the moor, broken only by the weeping and moans of the bound Death Eaters. Despite the fierce battle preceding it, Voldemort's death had come so suddenly and with so little fanfare that it took the Order members a moment to truly believe the man who had plagued them for over two decades was really gone. Abruptly, the quiet moor was engulfed in shouts of pure joy. The Order members took a moment to hug their comrades and wipe tears of happiness from weary eyes before they began to organize the clean up.

While most of the Order began seeing to those who were hurt, Shacklebolt Apparated away to the Ministry to alert the Aurors to come and collect the Death Eater prisoners. Tonks went to St. Mungos to ask the immediate aid of the Healers there. In short order both Tonks and Shacklebolt returned, a horde of wizards on their heels. However, as fast as the Aurors and Healers arrived, they Apparated away just as quickly. In the heat and relief of victory, it is little wonder that not even Albus himself realized the trouble. Tonks and Shacklebolt were sent away again and when they returned it was all too apparent what the matter was.

"Where is Hermione?" Tonks said when she returned. "The Healers say that when they arrived they were overwhelmed with grief. That's why they disappeared again so fast...some of them are still crying and they say we can all bloody well go hang if we don't get that stopped before they try again."

"It's the same with the Aurors," agreed Shacklebolt. "They would like nothing better than to come take the Death Eaters into custody, but they won't try again until we get that effect stopped. Where is Miss Granger? Why hasn't she stopped projecting?"

In the relief of the battle being over, no one had yet given a thought to the invisible witch who had been so instrumental to their efforts. Harry and Ron in particular looked heartily ashamed of the fact that they had not yet looked for their friend.

"Where is she?" Harry echoed as searched in vain for sight of her on the darkened moor.

Albus and Moody's eyes snapped to where the young witch still knelt on the soggy ground. As the two men went to her side, they were followed closely by the rest of the group. Removing the invisibility cloak from her still form, Albus knelt by the silent witch's side and spoke to her in gentle tones. "Hermione...Hermione can you hear me my dear? The battle is over and we've won. You may rest now, sweet girl, there is no need to keep at it."

Silence was his only answer. The young woman remained kneeling and motionless, her shoulders bent, her head drooping as silent tears seeped from her closed eyes. Indeed, she never stirred even when Albus gave her a soft shake nor when he tried to revive her with a healing spell. At last, Albus gave up the effort to get through to her. Rising, he regarded the rest of the group with serious eyes.

"What's the matter with her?" Harry practically shouted.

"I'm afraid I do not know, my boy," Albus said with a tired sigh. "Hermione is still projecting. Indeed, so intently is she projecting that I cannot get her attention. I doubt she realizes the battle is over." Turning to Shacklebolt, Albus continued, "We must get the Healers here, there are wounded that cannot afford to wait. Is there none of the blocking potion left?"

"No," Kingsley said shortly. "I sent Severus all of the Yppotryll tusk that was available. It was scarcely enough to brew what we used today...there is no reserve."

"Then I am afraid we will have to move Miss Granger. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, would you be good enough to take Hermione back to Hogwarts. Severus' study is still warded; perhaps the safety of that buffered room will revive her as it did when she first received her gift. I know you'll want to stay with her, but please keep an eye on how you are feeling. The blocking potion we all took will be wearing off soon; it will not be comfortable for you to stay with her for long."

Supported by her two closest friends, Hermione was taken back to Hogwarts, back to the study where she had spent so many happy hours. Though she could not stop projecting, Hermione was vaguely aware of where she was. The study could offer her no comfort. Indeed, it seemed now little more than a bitter reminder of all that she had lost. Harry and Ron laid her gently on the sofa and spoke quiet words of love and hope before they reluctantly left her. Hermione did not really hear them. Alone in the study, the silent keen of Hermione's grief spiraled on and on.

Back on the moor, the prisoners were taken away by the Aurors, the few dead removed, and the wounded sent to either St. Mungos or back to Hogwarts, depending on the seriousness of their injuries. Eventually the weary Order members went home. Once back at Hogwarts, a small group of students and teachers gathered outside the door to Severus' study while Albus tried to reach Hermione. It was no use; the blocking potion had worn off and even Albus could not stay long in the room with Hermione's sadness buffeting at his sanity. With a heavy heart, he gave up the attempt and retreated back into the corridor.

"I'm afraid the warded room has not had the effect I had hoped it would." he said simply.

"Surely there is something we can do?" whispered Harry.

"I can think of only one course of action that has any hope of success. Off to bed, all of you. We'll speak again in the morning."

"What will we do, Headmaster?" Minerva asked, her worry easily apparent.

"You lot will get your weary selves to bed." Albus said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. "As for me, I will go up to my study and floo the Firewalker."

Faces which glowed with newfound hope slowly turned from the study door as they crept off to bed. They were too weary to note that no hope was visible in the Headmaster's unusually serious eyes.