The Battle of Hogwarts

A/N: Hugs and kisses to Lariope and all reviewers.

Chapter 11 – The Battle of Hogwarts

The first part of their plan went off without a hitch and in a blur of motion. Hogsmeade was under curfew and wrapped in a Caterwauler Charm, so they got in through the secret passage in the Shrieking Shack. Hogwarts was practically deserted; nearly all students and the majority of the faculty had left to spend the holidays with their families. They ran into Neville and Luna, who happened to be among the few remaining, by the Room of Requirement and received an update on what had happened in the school during the year. Thankfully, Ginny had gone home to the Burrow and wasn't with them. He didn't think he could face her now, not on top of everything. He briefly wondered whom she would hex first...him or Ron...when she found out why he'd actually left her. He hadn't known at the time, but it was clear to him now that Ron had been the reason all along. Back then, he had mistaken the nagging sense of guilt in the centre of his heart for the weight of his destiny; he hadn't been wrong, he just hadn't known that there was more to his destiny than a distant fight to the death with the man who had tried to kill him repeatedly over the years.

Hermione was all business, leading them across the castle in a search through secret rooms and passages neither he nor the Marauders' Map had known existed. It was clear she hadn't been idle during the weeks they had been apart. It became equally obvious to him, as they worked their way through the castle, that his earlier suspicions had been correct. There was someone else in the works, someone who helped them from behind the scenes. She had changed in the last two weeks, so much he could practically see it. She was older, calmer, more professional. There was a new sense of grace about her, something in the way she moved that reminded him forcefully of something...someone...else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He ransacked his mind but came up empty. From the way she navigated through Hogwarts, he was starting to suspect that it was someone on the staff, which narrowed down the options considerably. Flitwick or McGonagall. Somehow, though, neither option generated that small 'click' in his mind that told him he was on the right track.

His mind did click after visiting Ravenclaw Tower, on the other hand. While Hermione berated herself for not having realised that the Gray Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost, was, in fact, the daughter of the House founder, a memory suddenly drifted to the front of his mind. Lines and lines of bookshelves, a myriad hidden and forbidden things, stowed away by Hogwarts students for centuries. A glittering tiara, placed on the head of a stuffed troll to mark a hurried hiding place. The Rawenclaw diadem...the last Horcrux...was within reach.

Breaking into a run, he rushed towards the seventh floor, his friends hot on his tail.

In the Headmaster's office, Severus Snape folded the enchanted map before him and hid it securely in a secret pocket on the inside of his robes.

"It is time."

The portraits surrounding him nodded grimly and disappeared, one by one, from their ornate frames. Phineas Nigellus was the second to last to leave, followed only by Dumbledore, who tried to catch his eye before stepping out of sight. He took a moment to look at each expanse of black canvas while smoothly clearing his mind and bringing his nerves under control. Hogwarts' call had gone out. The last stage of the plan was in motion.

Pulling up the sleeve of his robe from his left forearm, he put the tip of his wand to the mark and watched it burn red.

She followed Harry as he ran across the castle, up to the familiar corridor on the seventh floor. Harry quickly paced back and forth three times, muttering under his breath, and a door appeared. She couldn't quite hold back a gasp as they entered, stunned by the sight of rows and rows of everything imaginable.

It was all a blur after that; too many things happened in too short a time. They found the Horcrux, and then Draco Malfoy showed up, stepping out of the Vanishing Cabinet with Crabbe and Goyle at his side, wands drawn. There was a duel, and then there was fire...fire such as she had never seen; fire that did not only feel alive, but sentient, chasing them down the aisle in malevolent pursuit. As they slammed the door shut and leaned against it, robes singed at the hemlines and Draco floating unconscious in the air before them, she still didn't know how they had managed to make it out alive. Well, she thought briefly, forcing back the bile that was suddenly rising in her throat, not all of them had. Crabbe and Goyle had fallen victims to their own, cursed flames along with the hidden piece of Voldemort's soul. She could still hear their screams inside her head.

"What do we do with him?"

She looked up. Ron was standing next to Harry, poking Draco's unconscious form with the tip of his wand.

"I don't know. Tie him up and hide him somewhere, maybe."

"Chuck him back into the room, I'd say."

"Ron..."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. Just tie him up then?"

"Yeah, maybe. We need to get going, find Voldemort..."

"Harry!"

"So what, Hermione? We have them all, the only piece that's left is the one inside his body. I want him to find me. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!"

"Potter!"

They jumped. Minerva McGonagall was hurrying down the corridor, several of the other professors in her wake. Neville and Luna were with them, apparently having run for help. She watched in amazement as the stern, old witch swept Harry into a tight hug, and the shock kept mounting as she and Ron were pulled in as well.

"Thank goodness you are alright!" her Head of House exclaimed, releasing the utterly stunned versions of themselves. "When Albus told me...through his portrait of course...that he'd sent you out on a dangerous mission, I was so angry I could have killed him myself. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to see you at Bill's house, but he insisted that you needed some time alone."

Almost as if on cue, Bill Weasley suddenly materialised next to them, coming up the staircase followed by what seemed to be most of the Order.

"Headmaster Black came to summon me," he said in response to the unspoken question written on everyone's faces. "He told me to gather the rest of the Order and bring them here, that an attack on the school was imminent."

"And Dumbledore came to me," Arthur Weasley confirmed, stepping into line beside his eldest son, "through his portrait in the Wizengamot quarters. He said the same thing. Kingsley was there too; he is coming as soon as he can get a team of Aurors together."

"We brought supplies," Fred informed, placing the large trunk he and George had been carrying down on the floor. "Our whole stock is practically in there, or anything we could think about that could be useful in a fight at least."

Everybody looked to Professor McGonagall, whose face had gone back to a graver version of her usually serious expression. She eyed the group of people filling the corridor, and Hermione did a quick count. Four teachers, the Head of each House, twenty-six members of the Order of the Phoenix and five students, plus an unconscious Draco Malfoy, who was still hanging suspended in mid-air behind them.

"Very well," McGonagall said, the small tremble in her voice pushed away almost immediately. She turned to her colleagues, who were flanking her on either side. "How many students are in residence?"

"Five in my House."

"Seven, not counting Mr Malfoy over there."

"Three, Miss Lovegood included."

"And four in Gryffindor, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger not included," McGonagall said. "Horace and Pomona, would you please gather your students and bring them here? Miss Lovegood and Mr Longbottom, would you be so kind as to do the same for the people in your Houses? Those who are underage or who do not wish to stay will be transported by Portkey to safe locations, the rest may fight as they wish. God knows we could use the extra wands." Slughorn and Sprout nodded and left the corridor, Luna and Neville following closely behind.

"That makes nineteen students and five members of staff, if we can persuade Mr Filch to join us," McGonagall continued. "Filius, I will leave you in charge of strengthening the castle enchantments. Take as many people as you need. The rest of you, please come with me. If there's an attack, we need to know about it as quickly as possible and be strategically placed to meet it. Thank goodness the Carrows went home for the holidays. This will be complicated enough without them. Where is Snape?"

"I saw him just as I came up here," Flitwick said, ignoring the tension that settled over the group of people at the mention of their former colleague. "He left through the main doors."

"Good," McGonagall said. "That further simplifies things." Hermione did a double take, surprised by the dismissive tone of her former professor. McGonagall had been very close to Dumbledore. Was it possible that she knew what had actually happened? During their time together, Severus had never said anything to indicate that the other professors had been privy to Dumbledore's plans for his own death or to anything related to Severus's part in it all, but McGonagall's casual dismissal of his whereabouts made her wonder. She looked at Ron's father and thought she saw something cross his face as well, even as he kept his mouth firmly shut. How much does the Order know?

Her thoughts were interrupted as people murmured their agreement to McGonagall's orders and started to file out. She saw Bill and Charlie team up with Flitwick and Lupin and move away with Mr and Mrs Weasley, among others, towards the Great Hall. The three of them kept with the Transfiguration professor, who brought them back to her office, where Draco Malfoy was promptly tethered to a heavy armchair and gagged before they left.

"He's just a boy," McGonagall answered sternly as Ron voiced concerns that he might wake up and get loose. "And he did not kill Albus, even with a direct threat of death to his family hanging over his head. I won't hurt him unless absolutely forced to." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but one look from his Head of House had him close it again. Any further argument was cut short by Lupin, his voice ringing loud and magically enhanced through the castle.

"Death Eaters are attacking from the Forbidden Forest. Everyone to position and ready to fight!"

"Sonorus!" McGonagall aimed her wand at her throat and moved away in a swirl of black robes. Hermione felt her head begin to spin from the overload of impressions surrounding her; people were running everywhere, team leaders shouting orders and sparks flying as Hogwarts' defenders prepared themselves for battle. A sudden movement to her right jerked her out of her jumbled thoughts, and she saw Harry fall to the floor, collapsing like a rag doll unto the grey stone.

"Harry!"

She whipped her head around and fell to her knees next to Ron, who was holding down a screaming, twisting Harry as he threw his head from side to side. His hands were clasped against his scar, as though he was trying with all his might to stop the skull from splitting open.

"He's here!" he panted as he finally regained some semblance of self. "He's at Hogwarts! I could see the castle through his eyes." He quickly withdrew the Marauder's Map from his pocket and tapped it with his wand, searching frantically. "He's not here," he muttered desperately, moving his hands over the map. "Why isn't he here?"

"Perhaps he's just outside the grounds," Ron suggested, moving in closely to examine the map himself. "In the forest or just outside the gates, or...look!" He pointed eagerly at a small dot moving quickly through a secret passage towards the very edge of the parchment. "It's Snape, and he's heading straight for..."

"...the Shrieking Shack!" Harry cut in, following the small dot with his finger as it disappeared out of sight. "Of course! I thought I recognised the room. You're brilliant, Ron!" Harry pressed a quick kiss on his lips, making Ron throw Hermione a shocked glance and blush slightly. She forced herself to ignore it, looking quickly around.

"Harry, put on the Invisibility Cloak," she instructed. "Ron, get the map to McGonagall as quickly as you can. She'll need it more than us."

"But..." Ron began, clearly taken aback.

"Not now, Ron!" she snapped. "We have to move! You-Know-Who is at the school, and we need to get to him before he has the time to send in all his troupes! We'll meet you by the front doors. Now go!"

Ron nodded briskly and tore away down the hall. Quickly, she cast a Disillusion Charm on Harry and herself, along with several Protection and Distraction Spells. Harry withdrew the shimmering cloak from another pocket of his robes and covered them both with it. It was much more difficult to move under it now that they were both fully grown, and once Ron joined them, they would have to move at nearly a crawl to avoid being seen. Ron was waiting for them, Disillusioned, as they arrived at the doors. Painstakingly slowly, they navigated through the grounds, away from the advancing attackers and towards the Whomping Willow. Behind them, they could hear shouts and screams mixed with explosions and cracking stone as the Death Eaters surged forwards. The Battle of Hogwarts had begun.

He moved through the grounds and into the tunnel in an efficient stride. He knew from experience that the Dark Lord did not enjoy to be kept waiting. On his way, he passed by at least a dozen Death Eaters in holding position at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, poised to strike. If the hairs on his neck standing on end were anything to go by, a number of Dementors were approaching as well. An attack was coming; he could practically feel it in the air. He wondered briefly what would happen to the school, to the intricate mass of polished stone that had been his home for as long as he cared to remember. Members of the Order should be arriving shortly, ready to protect the castle and its remaining inhabitants with all they had. Dumbledore would see to it, while the other Headmasters spread the alarm to other magical institutions. He mentally went through the other portraits' access points and ticked St Mungo's, Gringotts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and the Ministry off his inner list. He only hoped it would be enough.

The Dark Lord was in a treacherous mood as he entered...he could feel a mix of anger and arrogance coming off the other man in waves. The mark on his arm throbbed with a steady sense of discomfort, and he took care to empty his mind before he pushed open the last door. A quick report and then back to Hogwarts, keeping out of the madman's way as best as he could. He was suddenly immensely grateful that Nagini had been slain; there were enough factors to consider without having to keep a fresh supply of antivenin within reach at all times.

"Severus."

Voldemort was standing at the back wall, observing the main doors of the castle and most of the grounds through the clear display of an enchanted window.

"My Lord."

"The battle is about to begin," he said, moving the wand in his hand back and forth between the long skeletal fingers. "This time tomorrow, Harry Potter will be dead and Hogwarts will be officially mine."

"It's already yours, my Lord," he said softly, trying to divine what was coming. He had sent the message from his office, that special touch to the Mark that meant that Harry Potter's whereabouts were known. He had expected Voldemort to come charging to Hogwarts, not summon him and set up a base of operations outside the grounds. There was something unknown in the equation, and it worried him.

"Yes, of course," Voldemort conceded, still not turning to face him, "but after tonight it will be out in the open. Once Harry Potter is dead, I'm stepping out of the shadows. It's high time I claim what is rightfully mine."

He murmured something flattering in response, keeping his head respectfully bent towards the floor while following the other wizard's every movement from the corner of his eye. When Voldemort didn't continue, he braved a direct glance on the wall. Spells were flying now, and he could see the Dementors gliding across the grounds in a long, deadly line.

"They are blocking the entrances," Voldemort said, noticing where his eyes had wandered. "I've had them in position since early this evening, as soon as I felt the boy's mind shift in preparation for travel. The Floo network has been cut off as well. The only way into the grounds at this point is through this very room. Once the castle's defences fall, the boy will have to come to me."

Severus's mind was reeling. The Order would be Apparating directly into the castle as per the portraits' instructions. It was the fastest and most practical way of entry, and so he'd lifted the wards on the castle and grounds immediately after sending out the call for help. If all entrances had been blocked before he touched the Mark, however, and Voldemort now saw Order members appearing in the grounds...he would know. The only person capable of lifting the Anti-Apparition Wards that surrounded Hogwarts was the Headmaster, and once articulated, the accusation would be impossible to deflect. He felt fear hit him even as he struggled to bury it under layers of Occluded indifference. He needed to get back to the castle, and above all, he needed to distract his master sufficiently for him not to pick up on his treason until he could safely leave. He could not afford to be exposed now, not with so much left to do.

"So you can still see into the boy's mind?" he asked, a trickle of relief running through him as the Dark Lord finally turned away from the wall to face him.

"Certainly," he said, as though this was the easiest thing in the world. "When he's nervous or excited, the emotions are very clear. It's grown stronger lately. The boy is in love." He articulated the last sentence with amused disdain, arrogance dripping from every syllable. "I always find love extraordinarily amusing," he continued, "the way it turns worthy adversaries into begging heaps of useless desperation, pleading for the lives of people who couldn't save them even if they tried." Severus allowed himself to chuckle, mirroring the cold smile on his master's face.

"Indeed," he said, moving casually a bit to the left so that Voldemort had to turn his back almost completely to the enchanted wall to be able to face him. "So, what can I do for you, my Lord?" Before the words had fully passed his lips, Voldemort's hand twitched in a smooth come-hither motion, and he felt his wand tear from the relaxed grip in his hand. He bit his tongue around the protest that threatened to escape. Calm down, he told himself, looking into Voldemort's red eyes and schooling his face into one of curious indifference.

"I require your wand, Severus," the Dark Lord said, holding it up before him and dragging his gaze across the smooth wood. "The one I took from Dumbledore is not functioning as well as I had hoped." A new wave of fear gripped him before he pushed it back down. The Dark Lord had the Elder Wand, a mystical artefact reputed to pass only by blood from owner to owner. If Voldemort did not have the Mastery, who did he think did?

"Surely, this cannot be, my Lord," he said, stalling for time. On the wall behind them, figures were beginning to appear, emerging through the doors and on the battlements of the castle...far too many to be passed off as the staff and students in attendance during the holidays. "Dumbledore was not the wand's master, you told me so yourself. He did not kill Grindewald. You did."

"And still, the wand does not respond to me," Voldemort said. "There is a connection, I feel it clearly, but the wand is distant, as though it's waiting for something."

"For what, my Lord?" he forced himself to ask, dreading the answer.

"The wand responds to death," Voldemort said softly. "It also responds to power. Now tell me, my faithful servant, which singular act is the ultimate demonstration of power in our world."

To kill a wizard with his own wand, he thought, even as his jaws clenched tightly together. Voldemort's eyes were on him, studying his reaction with a malevolent smile on his face.

"You have always understood my needs well, Severus," he said softly. "And you have been a most useful servant for it. I value what you have brought me over the years, but as things are now, at the cusp of my final victory, I believe your usefulness has run its course." He took a step forwards, twirling the wand in his pale hands. "Now, Severus Snape," he said, pointing the wand straight at his heart, "will you die bravely, facing your master, or will you attempt to run? I must admit, it would greatly disappoint me if you ran. Dignity has always been a trait I have much valued in you, and I would prefer to end your life on that note."

He swallowed, forcing his body to remain calm as he kept his gaze steady. It was too late. Too late for daring plans or desperate dashes to freedom. He was wandless, caught in a small room with the most powerful Dark Wizard alive. There was no chance for him to talk his way out of this. Voldemort had summoned him to end his life, and all he could do now was to face death bravely and hope that he had done enough. A smile spread across his face as he saw Death Eater after Death Eater fall to the ground on the magical exposition on the wall. Hogwarts was pushing back, and it looked as though they might be winning. As though he had just read his mind, Voldemort turned his head, taking in the scene through the enchanted window. For a few seconds, the expression on his face was one of near-complete shock, then his eyes slowly narrowed, and the gleaming red inside them began to burn.

"Traitor!" he hissed, bringing the wand down in a slashing motion. He felt himself fall to the floor, jerking from the force of an imaginary knife cutting through his body. Blood sprayed across his robes, across the wooden floor and across the walls of the small room as the Dark Lord towered over him in fury. The smile on his face grew wider even as Voldemort broke past the barriers of his mind and found piece after piece of evidence of half a lifetime's worth of betrayal. He pushed these memories to the front, willing him to see the plotting and the deception...his unwavering loyalty to a man he didn't trust and a boy he didn't even like. Laughter worked its way out of his body even as pain slashed across his skin in motions of liquid fire, and he offered up memories of misinformation and secrets, crowned by a flash of Bellatrix's unconscious body inside the magical trunk and the theft of the golden cup from Gringotts.

With a cry of outrage and one last jabbing motion, Voldemort brought his wand down and cut his throat.

He felt blackness creep in on his vision as the Dark Lord threw his wand to the floor and swept past him in a blurry mass of dark material.

"I believe you might be my greatest disappointment, Severus Snape," he said. "But no matter. When the night is over, Hogwarts will be mine, and the boy you will have died to protect will have joined you on the other side."

He swept from the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing hollowly against the wooden floorboards before fading altogether. In the split moment between complete silence and swirling blackness, he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, as though someone was emerging out of thin air. Too late, he thought, feeling oblivion grab hold of him even as warm hands reached for his damaged skin. Too late.

And then there was nothing.

A/N: Yes, massive cliffie. Three more chapters to go. Reviews will get them posted more quickly *hint, hint.* Until then, I'm keeping the next chapter hostage. Muhahahah! :-)