Mortality

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR.

AN: A very special thanks to Ariadne, my tireless beta.

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Severus stood at the window in Minerva's office, his fingertips idly trailing down the smooth glass.

Charlie and Hagrid were on the grounds, herding the dragons to the Quidditch pitch. Norbert followed Hagrid easily, while the others wanted nothing more than to burst from their chains and fly. They flung their wings out, beating them on the ground as they walked, throwing gusts of wind in all directions.

"Severus, is it really necessary? Couldn't we just take down the wards?"

"Minerva, it must appear that I am faithful." He sighed and turned to face her. "Voldemort will not set foot on the grounds if he does not believe I am the one breaking the wards and protecting the last Horcrux. You know that."

He observed her trying to digest what he was telling her. "There is no other way."

Minerva sighed and tried to ignore the sound of the dragons' roars. "It is suicide, pure and simple."

"My life has been one long attempt at suicide, Minerva," he said flatly.

Minerva stared down at her desk, examining her appointment book, an accessory that seemed strangely obscene considering the impending chaos. "Why do I even attempt to argue with you?"

"It does seem to be a futile pursuit," he stated.

Severus watched the various magical objects that Dumbledore had kept, trying to identify which one was making each sound, absorbing the cadence of each movement, remembering the light reflecting off of the spinning metal – anything to take him away from Minerva's worried gaze.

A hesitant and tired smile touched her face. "If you must. I will release the wards at noon and await your signal that Voldemort has entered."

After a moment of silence, she said in a hollow voice, "It all seems so peaceful now, doesn't it?"

Severus shifted his eyes around the room, avoiding the still-sleeping portrait of Dumbledore.

"The others?"

She seemed to compose herself, straightened and said, "Yes. Word was spread through the Order, and scores have arrived in the night, in pairs to avoid suspicion. Most are in the Great Hall, but others are in the forest awaiting your signal that Voldemort has passed through the gates. Hermione has distributed small amounts of the Felix Felicis potion to everyone."

Severus nodded, closing his eyes at the mention of Hermione's name. Something in him wished that protocol didn't rule, that he could simply go and play the part of tragic hero without repeatedly passing through the hell that came from viewing his own demise in the eyes of those saying farewell.

"I don't believe anyone saw them arrive," Minerva said with fear in her voice.

With a glance towards the window, Severus mused, "Yes. If he suspects something..."

Minerva noticed he was trying hard to avoid looking at her. "There is no doubt; he will kill you."

Severus slid his eyes towards her and shrugged. "More likely, he'll drag me before you all and perform a public execution."

Pain crossed her features as she admonished him, "Severus..."

"The truth is not always beautiful. Today will be no different than all of the other times I've appeared before him to be tortured and ridiculed."

Minerva said sadly, "All of that will end today."

"Yes," he said, looking out at the clear morning sky. "In victory, death – or both."

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Hermione saw him before anyone else.

Severus stood in the doorway of the Great Hall and, even from that distance, the look in his eyes sent her heart racing and her blood running cold. When she reached him, he took her hand, led her out into the Entrance Hall and into a cold shadow.

He looked down at her hands in his, searching for words. "Times like these deserve a grand moment full of remembrance, something more than I am prepared to give. I am not a man that will ever say it enough, but I do love you. Whatever may happen, that will not change."

A somber smile shared between them and she leaned closer, kissing him softly, remembering, lingering, concentrating on the brush of his eyelashes on her cheek. How sensual he could be when the world could not see. She raised her hand and busied herself with brushing the hair away from his face, shaking, fingers trailing across his skin in fits.

Swallowing against the urge to cry, she whispered, "I love you, too."

The feel of his hands around her, moving slowly up her back, guiding her to rest her head against his chest. Listening to his heart, how strangely calm it was now that it was all upon them.

It was time. He stepped back and could only study her eyes in the low shadow, ignoring the rise and fall of the noise from the Great Hall. How many lives depended on what he was about to do.

Hermione watched him as he stood before her, searching her eyes for permission to go. She pressed two small flasks into his hand and explained in a hoarse whisper, "Some Felix Felicis for you, and the other is from Neville."

He nodded and slipped them both into his pocket. He could not take the Felix until after speaking with Voldemort, as he would know and be immediately suspicious. When dealing with a wizard as perpetually paranoid as Voldemort, driving that insanity higher would not be wise.

Hermione smoothed the front of his coat. "You needn't say a word."

A crease appeared in his brow, as if he had so much to say, but just couldn't. He instead kissed her hand slowly before backing away.

"Promise me you'll come back," she said, then shook her head, knowing that was not something he could give her.

The faintest smile appeared on his face at the same time tremendous sadness reached his eyes. She thought she saw him nod his head just the slightest before he turned swiftly and left.

Hermione stood in the doorway and watched him stride towards the gates, his robes flowing out behind him just the way he'd want. She needn't study warfare to know that there were two types of bravery. The first, where one is thrown into a desperate situation, reacting valiantly, overcoming all odds through sheer force of will and purity of heart. That is the bravery spoken of most often in stories. Tales of soldiers waging war built on adrenaline, moments in time, action over reason and, above all, fighting for a cause worth dying for.

The other type of bravery is a quiet, but no less remarkable, display of strength which requires no witnesses, no flying banners announcing a journey into the unknown, no cheering lines of well-wishers. It is the stirring sight of someone who knowingly walks into the very shadow of death, placing themselves firmly in the face of great danger – willingly – with his head held high.

That was how Severus left the castle.

There was one hour remaining. It would turn out to be the longest hour of both their lives – and the start of an historic day.

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Severus turned when he heard someone approach the gates.

"Lucius."

"As promised, I see," Lucius sneered, his head held high as if trying to regain his dignity after their last encounter. It only served to expose the marks that were still visible on his pale neck. Severus also noticed Lucius' hand twitch. Clear signs of the Cruciatus. Obviously, Lucius' homecoming had not been without its penalties.

"Of course," Severus said, matching Lucius' arrogant expression easily. "I see you decided to take my words to heart. A most beneficial choice. The Dark Lord will surely enjoy this day, and have you to thank for it."

Lucius twitched an uneasy smirk, keeping a trace of suspicion in his eyes. He gestured towards the forest behind him and announced cordially, "Yes, he is most anxious to proceed."

Severus passed through the gates and walked alongside Lucius. Even in the middle of a bright summer day, the thick forest provided deep shade. A strange, low-hanging mist flowed through the trees, obscuring the ground. Dementors. Dozens of Death Eaters and Voldemort-supporters stood in a clearing, their hushed conversations dying as they turned to watch Severus' approach.

Severus mused that it was about as close to a death march that one could come without ropes and the construction of a gallows.

The Death Eaters exuded a barely-checked lust for murder as Severus passed. Their eyes raked over him, most likely contemplating the most entertaining method of destruction. His only hope for survival was to convince Voldemort that he could both deliver Potter out onto the battlefield and protect the last Horcrux. If he failed, he knew, without a doubt, that no more than a moment after opening the gates, they would attack. Part of him hoped it would at least be quick; however, from the pure evil surrounding him, he knew this was not a group that would be above stretching his death into hours – if not days.

As they walked, Severus recognized several faces. Masks, it seemed, were useless now. After this, it would not matter if anyone knew whose side they were on. It was particularly disturbing to see how young some were, how very much like he had been when he joined. A slight twinge of guilt passed like a light breeze in the back of his mind at the thought that he could be faced with killing any one of them. How many had he taught over the years? No doubt they would be formidable, but the home advantage the Light had on its side was monumental – or so he hoped.

Glancing to his left, Severus saw many more lingering in the forest with the same grim intensity in their eyes. It could only be likened to walking through a pack of jackals, waiting for a kill to be thrown aside by a satiated lion.

The sea of black robes parted, and Severus saw Voldemort for the first time in months. Shutting his mind down, he pushed pertinent thoughts to the forefront, thoughts of protecting the last Horcrux and dragging Potter out onto the grounds to stand before his master.

Severus knelt onto the forest floor and bowed his head low. "My lord."

Quiet consideration. Often, it was this same silence before he would punish those who either performed poorly or failed to deliver. It was never a comforting thought to know that Voldemort was contemplating you in any way.

"Lucius tells me you and he had an interesting conversation. That you had quite the elaborate explanation for your actions these past few months," Voldemort said with suspicion.

Severus knew better than to speak too soon and so waited a moment before responding, "All in order to gain their trust, my lord. As we speak, they are all in the Great Hall, completely unsuspicious of your arrival. I can bring Potter out to you without raising their suspicions. He trusts me completely."

A gaping stretch of silence. Abnormally long. The sound of the breeze seemed strangely loud as it slowly rustled the leaves, easing the trees' branches in a slow swing.

Severus kept his eyes fixed on the ground. He could sense Voldemort circling him and hear the soft sound of his robes dragging the ground.

"You killed Bella."

It was more of an accusatory statement than a question. He was behind him now. Whispers rose from the others, sounding much closer now.

"Yes, my lord. She left me no choice. I regret that she did not believe I was faithful."

More silence greeted his defense.

It is said that in the absence of sight, other senses go into overdrive. Severus stared at the ground and concentrated on ignoring the sound of Voldemort's breathing as he contemplated his words and continued to circle. Dimly, he was aware of the sliding sound of Nagini moving through the brush nearby.

His leg began to ache while he knelt, reminding him that old wounds do not heal well. Voldemort was beside him, staring down. A stray thought occurred to Severus about how deadly silent well over one hundred people could be in the presence of complete evil.

"Stand."

Severus stood. Immediately, Voldemort's wand was thrust in his face and an overpowering presence began examining his thoughts. He offered up all of the memories and images of his faithfulness and complete trust by the Order, his duels with Potter, his convincing them that he loved Hermione, that he would save them all.

The sensation of a moth, crawling across his skin, fluttering its wings angrily. Burrowing, gnawing deeper. His every nerve stood on end, requiring incredible willpower to not cringe or rebel.

When, at last, he felt Voldemort viewing the memory of Harry smiling and going so far as to call him by his given name, he was released.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, examining Severus' reaction – finding nothing.

More Death Eaters had arrived; the random sounds of Apparition distracting. They crowded around, riveted by the exchange.

Voldemort could, by far, strike more terror in a victim's heart by not uttering a word than by exploding in a violent rage. At least with rage, Severus thought, you knew what was coming.

The excruciatingly long silence was, without a doubt, the most terrifying moment of Severus' life.

He knew that Voldemort was contemplating what could happen if the Order was, indeed, prepared to fight. Without Dumbledore, he was sure that Voldemort thought them to be weak, even if they were standing on the grounds with wands drawn. Taking possession of Hogwarts was something Severus knew Voldemort would enjoy immensely. After killing Harry, he would lord over the fallen school and continue his reign of terror in luxury. It was an opportunity that Severus knew would be difficult to resist.

In the distance, Severus thought he saw a movement large enough to be what he suspected. He flicked his eyes in that direction before quickly moving back to Voldemort. More movement and blocking of the light. Giants.

"Admiring our friends, Severus?" Voldemort said with an air of both pride and amusement. Voldemort stood painfully close and observed Severus carefully. "You do realize that even if I believe all of this, you have caused me much trouble. You have destroyed my Horcruxes, killed one of my closest servants, turned two others against me, and captured another. I should have you open the gates and then simply rid myself of you."

In mock sadness, Voldemort leaned even closer, used his wand to move Severus' hair out of his eyes, and crooned, "Oh, Severus, don't look at me that way. You never allow even a flicker of emotion, do you? Unable even to mourn yourself?"

Severus remained still, forcing himself to appear passive.

Voldemort hissed in a deranged shadow of a laugh. He stared into Severus' eyes, threw his hand out, and whispered the incantation to prevent Apparition. The door was firmly shut now.

Severus' eyes caught a movement. It was Lucius, with a strangely concerned expression on his face.

Amazingly, he stepped forward, knelt and said, "My lord, if I may, I believe Severus is telling the truth. They all trust him, and he can deliver Potter alone. If he does not..." Lucius' eyes grew cold as he continued, "I give my word: I will personally drag him before you."

Lucius wanted him for himself as an offering. Severus couldn't help but admire him for the Slytherin strategy in Lucius' plan – no matter how foolish.

Voldemort stood and considered the two of them with disgust. Weighing his options. His robes dragged along the ground as he paced, picking up stray leaves with each stride. He stopped, sweeping his eyes around the crowd.

As he passed Severus again, Voldemort suddenly snarled and moved swiftly, leveling his wand on Severus.

Everyone jerked in response – except Severus.

Voldemort touched his wand to Severus' chest almost lovingly and curled his lips into a purely evil sneer.

"Not even a twitch, Severus? Impressive, indeed."

Only the slight muscle movement in Severus' jaw-line betrayed the fact that he felt anything at all in that moment.

Even the birds ceased to sing.

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Minerva watched with Hermione from the castle steps as the hour of noon approached. Behind them, the Great Hall was alive with anticipation. Witches and wizards from all over Britain and beyond were gathered, being briefed by Moody and Remus on basic strategy using a map of the grounds. A reduced number of Xs were on the map now, after the suggestion that it would be impossible for their side to fight without ending up in some magical pit, gnawed by some horrific creature, or catapulted into the lake. The twins' disappointment was allayed with the explanation of their new responsibility. Charlie took them aside and they left with serious, excited expressions.

Minerva placed an arm around her. "Hermione, it's time. Come to the Tower with me."

As she passed through the door, Hermione tried to push the significance of the place from her mind. She watched as Minerva glanced at a small timepiece she held in her hand and then stared out towards the gates. Her distracted mind mentioned to her that the timepiece had been Dumbledore's.

For several minutes they remained silent, watching for any movement, any sign, only to be disappointed by the forest's unrelenting thickness. Hermione thought she saw traces of a Thestral or two weaving in amongst the trees by Hagrid's hut and was secretly in awe of how well all of the creatures obeyed him. It was as if they knew what he was asking them to do was vital to their success. Thestrals and Hippogriffs offered themselves in service, and the way Norbert had turned out was simply astounding. No doubt, the dragon remembered Hagrid, firmly crushing the perception that they were incorrigible, wild creatures with no thought or memory.

Minerva calmly placed the watch back into her pocket and raised her wand. With outstretched arms, she cast a complex series of spells in a strange and ancient language, and then turned to Hermione. With a sad nod, she took out a piece of parchment and touched it with her wand.

The words that burnt into her parchment also appeared on another piece in the Great Hall held by Remus Lupin. He glanced at it, twisted a handful of Wormtail's coat and shoved him towards the doors.

On his way out, he held up the parchment to Tonks who nodded.

"The wards are down," she announced. "We now await the signal."

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Severus watched as Voldemort walked slowly to the gates, dragging his eyes over the wrought iron bars, which had been closed to him for so long. It was past noon, and Severus knew that Minerva had removed the wards. When he saw Voldemort touch the bars almost reverently, savoring the moment, Severus' heart stopped. If Voldemort so much as pushed on the gates, they would swing open on their own, exposing that it was all a trap.

Voldemort slid his eyes back to Severus, staring in an expression of either hatred or great suspicion.

"You will take down the wards," he said, and approached with a growing sneer. He raised his wand again and tilted his head as he said politely, "However, first we have some catching up to do."

"Crucio!"

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"Move," Remus instructed, pushing Wormtail through the dungeons towards the passageway Severus suggested. From there, they would make their way behind the greenhouses and to the edge of the forest.

Wormtail moved willingly enough in silence, cringing anytime Remus spoke. If he dared slow down, Remus shoved him along, reminding him that he was by no means considered a partner in arms in this and was just as likely to be killed by either side.

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Hermione's hands repeatedly moved on their own, trailing across the stone rampart, tearing at the raised texture of the masonry to the point of roughening her fingertips. She stared with grave intensity towards the castle gates, unable to move or even fully exhale.

Remembering herself, she held her hands up to her chest, trying to find comfort in logic. How long should this conversation take? If Voldemort had found fault in Severus, he would have forced him to open the gates by now.

Yet more time had elapsed.

Hermione and Minerva both startled when they both saw a large cluster of birds take to the sky suddenly, awkwardly, as if startled from their perches.

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His right arm refused to move and his throat was on fire.

Muscles, locked in contraction from the curse, were slowly returning to his control. Eyesight was always the slowest to recover. In a near-blinded state, Severus struggled to rise. The others whispered amongst themselves – some dared to laugh.

Voldemort leaned down and spoke softly, "I thought that would extract a reaction from you."

Every breath was like swallowing acid. That voice, so close, chilling, the line of dark and light no longer existing.

Severus had managed to rise to one knee before he was shoved violently towards the gates, barely catching himself before falling. His hands gripped the bars, trying to hold his weight until his legs could allow him to fully stand. The weakness was infuriating. It was difficult to tell which was more painful: suffering under the Cruciatus long enough to catch a glimpse of his sanity or being humiliated in front of what seemed like hundreds.

Voldemort was near him again, chuckling as Severus forced himself to stand. A deep laugh intermingled with mock concern when a knee gave a little, forcing Severus to hang onto the bars awkwardly.

"Open them," Voldemort said in a cold, deadly voice, placing his wand firmly against Severus' back. His eyes shone with a promise of power, of obtaining what was rightfully his and unleashing a level of destruction never seen before.

Severus took a shuddering breath and painfully raised his arms. A shifting of the horde behind him, waiting, on the torn edge of restraint.

He gripped his wand tighter to keep his trembling hand under control, ignoring the soft sound of Voldemort's amusement from just behind. Instead of an incantation to open the gates, he silently cast the spell preventing the use of the Dark Mark.

In the moment it took for him to reach out to the gates, his hand ceased shaking, his sight cleared, and a great wind arose from the trees, thrashing branches into each other violently.

Adrenaline, Severus thought, is a wondrous thing.

With a great flourish, Severus pushed the gates wide open and stood aside as scores of Death Eaters and giants moved inside and awaited orders. Several minutes passed while Severus gave the impression that he was struggling to defeat the old magic the castle held against such evil intrusion. He tried to ignore the deep despair welling up inside, the outer edges of his sight fading towards black as numerous Dementors sailed past, swirling around just above the treetops and hovering in position.

After Voldemort and Lucius passed through, Severus followed and shut the gates.

Voldemort turned to Severus, shoved his wand into his throat and said viciously, "Bring Potter to me. If you dare fail or turn against me, Lucius will be the least of your worries. Every single one of my faithful will have a turn, and you will beg me for the sweet release of death."

"Yes, my lord," Severus said, his throat unable to clearly form the words.

Lucius stared at Severus, his lips held tight in a perpetual scowl.

Severus made a show of bowing low and turned swiftly to walk towards the castle. When he was far enough away, he took the Felix Felicis from his pocket, drank, and threw the flask aside.

Several minutes later, in the middle of the Hogwarts grounds, Severus stopped.

The silence was startling. If tension had the power to create sound, it would be deafening in that moment.

The sun was directly overhead, casting no shadow.

Even the trees stood still, as if anticipating.

Severus raised his wand, looked up towards the Astronomy Tower, and sent sparks to explode in a green starburst across the clear blue sky.

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Minerva and Hermione both clutched for each other's hands as Severus' signal died into gray smoke, the breeze carrying it away.

Minerva raised her arms and not only recast the wards, but added another layer, preventing any passage out. She had found the complex wards detailed in ancient books kept in the Headmaster's office. The castle held many secrets, and the possibility of warfare was not something that had been overlooked in its design.

Hermione took a piece of parchment and touched it with her wand.

In the same moment that Severus appeared, striding across the grounds towards the castle, a great roar arose from the Great Hall.

The parchment in Hermione's hand glowed with the words that would come to define the day: "It is time."

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As the last giant entered the grounds, Hagrid watched from the forest as they proceeded to tear up his garden, wrench several trees up out of the ground, roots and all, and toss them easily into the forest. As the trees landed, tearing branches down all around, the birds flew for their lives.

Hagrid had been stunned to hear Severus apologize for what he needed him to do. The reality of it, though, struck him hard.

With a glance to the sky for strength, Hagrid called loudly, "Norbert!"

From the direction of the Quidditch pitch, a deafening roar arose. Between the spires, the wild beating of wings could be seen as Norbert easily broke his chain with a violent thrust of his neck and sprang into the air. He hovered for a moment, throwing his wings forward, before pushing harder to lift higher and leave the encircled pitch.

As Norbert disappeared out of sight, the other dragons erupted into a frenzied madness. They rammed their backs upwards and broke through the tops of their cages, dragging their wings free while screaming into the sky. Once airborne, they hit the end of their chains, only to glare angrily back at the shackles and jerk them free. The sudden release resulted in a turmoil of corrective flight before the three of them rose over the ridge and followed.

As the giants looked around, unsure of what to do next, they were suddenly plunged into darkness. With a raging scream, Norbert slammed into the nearest giant, throwing him into Hagrid's hut, crushing one side completely. Flames burst the windows and the roof completely gave way as Norbert flailed his wings free to turn and face the other giants.

Ignoring the rambling sea of robed figures scrambling for cover, Norbert lunged for the other giants, ripping into anything within reach. A dozen or more converged on him, ignoring his fiery bursts, their skin largely toughened to the point of near armor. They managed to grab hold of one wing, twisting it backwards, wringing it to the near breaking point, dragging him down to the ground in increments. He stayed aloft, flailing the other wing into them and tearing into one giant easily, killing him instantly as he plunged his claws into his chest. At the sight of one of their own killed, the giants released Norbert.

He lifted up and hovered over them, flailing his head in an indescribable fury. No amount of toughened skin could protect against the inferno that followed. Liquid fire flooded the ground, racing in tall, jagged stripes to find its mark. A shimmering wave obscured them all as the air itself burned. Screams of surprise and agony sent them all into mass confusion, scattering, lumbering as fast as possible in any direction.

Norbert rose up, jaws wide, and struck out, taking four down at once and striking others with his tail as he whipped it wildly for balance.

As if in answer to his call, the other three dragons appeared, falling in a swift dive, obliterating the sun, immediately driven to destroy anything and anyone in a large radius. They threw fire indiscriminately in all directions and lunged towards anything that dared to move. When one caught sight of several Death Eaters running though the forest, it spun and flung itself into the thick, crowded trees, shoving them askew. It thrust its head in as far as possible, drawing its wings close to its sides before sending a firestorm barreling through the trees, scorching everything in its path. Another turned from the giants and followed, repeatedly ramming its body into the trees, flying above, forcing its way closer to any panicked, robed figure in sight.

Those that couldn't be reached with claws or teeth were destroyed by fire.

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When Remus saw Severus' sparks in the air, he turned to Wormtail and, with his wand on him, said, "It's time."

For the first time since their reunion, Wormtail looked Remus in the eyes and said, "It is far too late, but I..."

Remus' face twisted in disgust as he took Wormtail's wand from his robes. With a glance to the sky, he interrupted him, "Save your apologies for the dead. It is time to prove it," and thrust the wand into his hand.

Wormtail turned and watched as an unimaginable number of Dementors threatened to block out the sun. They swirled in a mad flight, accelerating as they moved up the grounds, closer, the deepest night bleeding into the day. An incredible anguish preceded them, casting darkness even in the brightest light. A rushing mist flowed like ocean waves up the castle grounds, immune to the sweep of the hills and curling upwards as they reached each crest.

With a glance back at Remus, Wormtail thrust his wand to the sky and cried, "Pareo Mihi!"

An invisible force seemed to block the Dementors, causing them to jerk to a confused stop. They angled themselves to cast their gaze towards where Wormtail stood and collected together to hover in the sky. They remained just close enough to almost cause him to black out from the overwhelming feeling of crushing hopelessness.

He was pulled out of his stupor by Remus, who pushed him and ordered, "Tell them to go."

Wormtail, holding his arms up high commanded, "Expecto in Silva!" and watched with relief as they obeyed, drifting easily and descending to the forest floor.

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When the first giant fell, the ground shook. When multiples began to fall, it was as if the earth were raging along with the dragons in anger. What no Death Eater knew was that while Norbert was a male, the three others were breeding females. Charlie had left boxes with the smell of their young in the middle of the path with a Disillusionment charm on them. As Dragons function largely on smell, they would rush at anyone even remotely near the scent.

As portions of the forest burned, Fred and George pulled themselves onto Thestrals and reeled up chains fastened to the beast's necks. They looked at each other and grinned.

"Shall we?" Fred asked cordially. Trees fell around them from the force of Norbert crashing awkwardly towards a group of cowering Death Eaters frantically trying to desert.

George laughed and tipped his head, swinging the free end of his chain around in a loop. "Indeed. Let's."

They took flight and rose above the fray, circling over the forest until they spotted Voldemort's army fleeing in chaos and headed back to pass over the grounds. Sweeping down over the boxes, they released the Disillusionment charms, grabbed hold of their Thestrals' necks, and angled themselves over while holding the chains out. As they swept past, the hooks grabbed hold of the boxes of dragon young scent, jerking them up into the air to trail behind them as they ascended once more.

As the twins directed their Thestrals back over the forest, the dragons lunged into the air, spread their wings to full flight, and followed.

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As Severus made his way up to the castle, he could hear complete madness explode behind him as the dragons descended. Never had he heard such large-scale rage play out and would have loved to witness the mighty Voldemort fleeing for his life before four amazingly large and ferocious beasts.

Somehow, a young Death Eater had managed to get past the dragons and taken it upon himself to try to follow Severus along the edge of the forest. Spotting him, Severus sneered at the audacity and decided to ignore him, knowing that it would be foolish to delay the destruction of the last Horcrux.

A green bolt of light shot across the grounds, slicing into the ground several feet ahead.

Severus slowed and saw him draw closer, obviously intent on capturing the prized traitor. Severus grinned, allowed him to come within range, then, with a dismissive slash, cut him across the chest with enough violence to send blood flying. As the Death Eater fell in an awkward tumble of robes, Severus shook his head and ran for the castle.

Distantly, Severus heard Wormtail shout, "Tentatio Lemma!" and, off to the side, he saw a mass of black rise from the forest.

The Dementors appeared strangely obscene against the bright blue sky as they rose up and, in a wave of twisting robes, flew out onto the grounds. They aimed straight for a large number of pursuing Death Eaters who came to a dead halt in terror and then fled in all directions. Those who made the mistake of heading towards the cover of the forest sprung several traps the twins had laid, one of which, indeed, flung the victim high in the air.

In this case, unfortunately, high enough to come within range as Fred and George sailed past, boxes on chains waving behind them and three female dragons in close pursuit.

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Fred and George laughed as they soared low over the grounds. The ground sped below them in a blur of green, rocks, sparkling water, then green once more as they banked over to cross to the forest again. Blind fury followed them, competing for the lead to protect the scent.

They divided, each going in a different direction to fly past the Death Eaters, then raised the chains around their Thestrals' necks, cuing them into heart-stopping dives towards the trees below. At the last instant, the Thestrals angled their wings upwards to lift out of the way, revealing the outstretched claws and teeth of the dragons behind.

Joining side-by-side once more, the twins soared over the castle, angling to fly around the North Tower. They exchanged a glance of both victory and having the time of their lives, tears from the wind streaking along their faces and into their hair.

George's face suddenly grew serious as he pointed downward. Watching the sea of black swirling as it covered the grounds, the twins kept high, above the spiraling mass. When the Dementors froze, then began to attack the Death Eaters, the twins pushed downwards once more, flying through so fast that there was no time to feel the Dementors' effects.

Suddenly, a bolt of green light struck George, throwing him violently off his Thestral to the ground below. The riderless beast flew upwards, then banked right to aimlessly fly towards the castle, the box still attached and two dragons following. Fred screamed for George as he fell, but, seeing the disaster about to occur, turned and went after the loose Thestral. He angled alongside, took hold of the chain around its neck, and kept them both together to fly out over the grounds again, all barely in time to keep one dragon from doing more than clipping the Astronomy Tower.

Looking down, he saw his mother reach his brother's body and scream as Tonks and Hermione dragged her away.

Fred grimly wrapped the chain his brother had used to control his Thestral around his free wrist and, through the tears, pushed both of them down toward another group of Death Eaters. Hoping the killer was amongst them, he flew straight past, leading all three dragons directly at them as they threw their claws out to kill.

Fred heard Charlie calling his name and turned, struggling to see through the wind and tears. Charlie was aboard Buckbeak and flew swiftly ahead to pull alongside. Without a word, Charlie leaned over to Fred and reached for the chain. In one motion, he took it from Fred's hand and pulled himself from Buckbeak onto George's Thestral.

Charlie looked at his brother, nodded sadly, and turned to fly out over the forest again, leaving one dragon with Fred, leading two of the females behind him.

--------------------------------------------

The ground shook in response to the dragons' screams, the air alive with raging fury as chaos reigned near the gates.

Willing his still tentative muscles to cooperate, Severus ran towards the castle, concentrating on the ground to keep going. Grass, long, then short and sparse, rocky terrain, the sharp lift before the steps, including the third which laid at a slight angle, the smooth floor in the cool shade of the Entrance Hall, through the corridor, turning a corner and directly into Hermione.

A spell – it was in his mind, through his raised wand and, thankfully, cut off by his heart.

Severus took hold of her shoulders, unsure if it was his hands or her body that was shaking. He lowered his head, trying to regain his breath, his fingers driving into her shoulders. Painfully tight. Touching bone. How close he had come. Flasks were crowded in her arms, softly shifting against each other as she looked at him with relief, anxiety, and something else.

Fear.

"You're..." Hermione said softly, hesitating at the wild look in his eyes when he raised his head, knowing he had come dangerously close to attacking her. "You're bleeding."

He blinked, lost in the moment, before he touched his face and looked at his hand.

In a raspy, torn voice, he said with a slow shake of his head, "It's not..."

She nodded quickly that she understood, that he needn't explain, and backed away.

Severus looked at her once more before turning and running towards the corridor where the griffin stood. Turning the corner, he slowed to a walk. The air around it was different, tainted, more alive with a disturbing strength, aware of his intentions.

Taking a deep breath, Severus raised his wand to determine the level of magic. He closed his eyes in quiet concentration, even when the battle roared to life as the Death Eaters reached the castle. The din of duels coming from the nearby window reached him, an explosion, a shrill scream.

Almost immediately, the griffin, the color of dusty brass, descended to an impossible blackness, an absence of presence, a raging tear in reality. Tilting, the statue rose up, leaving the floor, twisting in a slow, deliberate gathering of strength.

Its head, thrust back in a proud pose, began to turn and found Severus, the eyes now alive with an indescribable savagery, a promise of vengeance.

Severus stepped back, attempting to gain control. The magic reached out in tendrils, twisting invisibly though the air, creating its own wind. The droning had started, filling the corridor, reverberating off the walls, lowering as the wind rose. Suddenly, the griffin swung around, crashing into a nearby display case and spilling its contents across the floor.

Head down, its front legs were stretching. Slowly. The wind was circling now, rising in violence, a whirlwind of excruciating light and darkness, lowering then bursting into a blinding white.

Severus narrowed his eyes against the flare, calculating, weighing. A decision, and he raised his wand, preparing to cast the final spell much faster than he had in the past, knowing it would be the end.

"Traitor!" a voice screamed.

With a loud boom, the griffin slammed back down to the floor, falling over onto its side. As Severus swung towards the source of the voice, he saw Lucius Malfoy standing in the corridor. His robes were torn and he wore an impressive gash across the right side of his face, the blood streaming in long lines, following the angle of his jaw.

A vicious roar and Lucius blindly cast a spell, narrowly missing the griffin, before he realized what he had almost done.

Severus threw himself to the ground as the wall beside him exploded. He rose and returned in kind, missing as Lucius charged, blood streaking back through his hair and his mouth opened in a ferocious snarl.

Lucius reached him, and, in close quarters, struggled to put himself in front of the Horcrux.

Silence fell as they faced each other. To cast a spell this close would be suicide for them both.

Lucius' chest heaved. He leaned back, touching the griffin with a hand, daring Severus to act. "Regrettably, the Dark Lord wants you alive or else I'd..."

A small, deliberate movement – a reminder.

Severus flexed his free hand and took a step forward, enjoying how Lucius flinched and backed away from the griffin. Any color left in Lucius' face fled as his eyes darted to Severus' hand.

Eyes wide, Lucius stepped back, stunned at what he was witnessing. The raging droning grew louder, overwhelming all thought, dragging the very air down with its weight. Lucius' eyes shifted from Severus to the griffin, astonished that Severus stood with an alarming calm, his hair whipping in the wild wind, the wicked monstrosity rising behind him.

Lucius hesitated, stepped backwards over the broken pieces of the display case, turned and bolted down the corridor.

Stone cracked and sent pieces falling to the floor as Severus turned, met by the vision of a fiendish and very much alive griffin spreading its wings out to touch both sides of the corridor at once.

It whipped its tail furiously from side to side as it regarded Severus, cutting into the stone on one wall, then whipping through the air to slice into the opposite. Feathers swept along the windows and portraits, bending as they dragged along the walls.

Disturbingly calm, it stood, as if it had just arrived from a long journey. Its eyes shone with a restrained violence, resting, contemplating. Tilting its head, the aura flowing through a range of hues, reversing, traveling towards a blood red.

Severus raised his wand to deliver the final spell, but froze as the griffin suddenly tensed, spread its wings, coiled, and launched itself at him. Visions of Buckbeak's attack flashed through his mind as it opened its beak and screamed, deafening him in the closed corridor. A part of Severus' mind asked him whether he preferred to be torn or blown apart. Backing up quickly, he failed to see the fallen display case and fell backwards.

A rush of feathers and muscles and he was covered, staring into its deranged eyes, its talons, one next to him, the other on his chest, lightly at first, thinking, then pressing harder, lower, slicing through his coat, catching and tearing through the skin and raking over each rib.

The griffin suddenly recoiled, swinging around towards its tail. Severus quickly regained his footing and rose to his feet, staring in utter disbelief as Kitty had his teeth firmly embedded in the griffin's tail and was riding around on the tufted end as the beast attempted to rid itself of the attack. It twisted and tried to reach the cat as it whipped its tail in the other direction, beating it against the wall. Kitty didn't budge and, in fact, deftly relocated to the griffin's hindquarters where he happily sank his teeth in.

Severus moved quickly to the end of the corridor and turned. He sadly had to cast the final spell, even if it meant killing the cat as well. He took a deep breath and called, "Off!" hoping it would obey. Miraculously, Kitty did, neatly hopping off and running towards Severus, turning its eyes up at him in triumph as he passed.

Severus shook his head before setting himself and delivering the final spell just as the griffin twisted itself in the corridor, freeing its wings from the tangle. It glared directly at Severus before screaming once more and gathering its hindquarters to pounce.

In mid-spring, it was struck and appeared transparent for a moment, throwing its head downward and its back up. As it thrust itself sideways, fissures formed across its body, splitting its back open, exposing the both beautiful and terrifying light, overpowering, screaming straight to the heart, the soul, threatening to take the world down with it into the depths of destruction.

An obscene moment of silence, an anticipatory fraction of time before a horrendous explosion tore out the entire corridor, blasting stone out the side of the castle, taking pillars, glass, portraits and anything else in a nearby classroom with it in a high arc out into the midst of the battle playing out below.

The shadow of the griffin, wings spread wide, took to the sky, soaring over the grounds, screaming in white hot fury, flying to the sun, raging at the light before being swept up in the wake of Norbert's flight as he echoed the same scream and dove towards another group of Death Eaters.

-------------------------------------------

Harry stood in a greenhouse with Tonks and Minerva, watching the sky though the roof, even though the murky glass obscured much detail. From time to time, he would see the shape of Thestrals or dragons pass over, but it was the sound that was the most horrifying. The destruction was incredible as screaming, dragons roaring, and the sound of wayward hexes and curses destroyed parts of the castle.

After a huge explosion rocked the three of them enough to almost fall over, Harry pulled out the parchment which moved in his pocket, alerting him to a message.

Tonks and Minerva both placed a hand on Harry's shoulder as they watched him hesitantly unfold it.

Scrawled in familiar handwriting were the words Harry had dreamt of reading for years.

"He is mortal."

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