Harry Potter & the Veil of Shadows
Chapter 22 - "Happy Halloween"

Harry awoke from his dreams - no, nightmares was really the proper term - feeling considerably... unsettled. But then, a night spent envisioning Ginny being crushed beneath the falling rubble of the Hogs head would quite naturally have that effect. All in all, he rather felt as though he'd not slept a wink. He moved about his morning routine in a distracted haze, preoccupied with trying to recall what he could, relentlessly nagged by the notion that it had been far, far more than just a simple dream.

His distraction easily manifested in the haphazard way that he put himself together for the day - his shirt remained partially untucked, he forgot his watch, his wallet, and his coin pouch all at various points, and had to return to the dorm to reclaim them. He didn't even pull his hair back into its customary ponytail, instead leaving it free to hang around his shoulders, and he forgot to shave, something he knew very well annoyed Ginny when they kissed.

As he trooped down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, Harry missed Hermione's speculative eyebrow at his appearance. "You look like you'd fit right in at a Muggle university today, Harry," she commented with all the subtlety of a brick wall.

"Mmmn," Harry grunted noncommittally in response.

When Harry had said nothing further by the time they were halfway to the Great Hall, Ginny decided that this bore commenting on. "Harry?" she asked as they worked their way past one of the trick stairways - the one, that on the last Saturday of every month (such as today) would randomly Apparate itself to top of the immense stairwell, and deposit unsuspecting students near the Room of Requirement, usually when they were trying to get to dinner. "What's the matter, luv? You're not quite here today."

"Reducto!" Lestrange said, sending the curse at the ceiling, even as some of his followers targeted the floor.

And Harry watched as two main beams - and the roof - fell right on Cordy...

And Ginny.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, to explain that he'd dreamt of Lestrange and the trip to Hogsmeade all night... but then he found that the words wouldn't come. Every time he tried to speak them, his mouth would close instead. He began to get frustrated as he felt Ginny's mind probing their bond, trying to see what should could determine that way, and then getting even more frustrated as Ginny mistook his silence for his old reticence (not unreasonably, he admitted), and he was finally able to get out a muttered "Bad dreams."

"I'm sorry, luv," she said, rubbing one of his shoulders. "But it is just a dream, you know. It'll be fine."

His mind's eye was filled once more with the image of Ginny crushed beneath the rubble of the Hog's Head, and Harry's stomach clenched.

"Yeah," he agreed the words sour and foul-tasting on his tongue. "Just a dream."

Ginny looked at him oddly, and Harry thought, not for the first time, something was possibly very, very wrong with him. His biggest clue for this was because it wasn't that he hadn't wanted to explain about the dream... it was that something, or... someone, was stopping him from doing so.

But then, under the admonition that it had, after all, been just a dream, that awareness slowly faded, and Harry soon found himself acting very normally, and joking with the rest of his friends about the upcoming day in Hogsmeade, and the Ball scheduled for that evening. By the time he'd eaten his last rasher of bacon, Harry had quite forgotten that anything had been wrong at all.

But he couldn't help but wonder at the odd looks that Ginny was giving him from time to time. But then, even though Harry himself had quite forgotten that something was wrong (or at the least, not right) Ginny was becoming very aware of it.

Rodolphus Lestrange smiled.

It was not an attractive smile, he knew. He was hardly an attractive man, not that he had ever cared for such things. His marriage to Bellatrix had been one of convenience - neither of them had ever had the slightest interest in whelping a brood of children like the Weasleys had. If he was honest with himself, he knew he even looked a bit deranged, and knew that he probably was. The majority of his adult life had been spent in the company of the Dementors of Azkaban, after all. That would unhinge anyone.

Now, however, it was the sight of the dragon that Walden MacNair was precariously perched on that made him grin so widely. The Hungarian Horntail was a fine beast, and MacNair was probably one of the only wizards who could control such a creature. Even he could only do so with great difficulty. It was lucky for Rodolphus and his fellows, then, that MacNair had escaped capture.

The Aurors assigned to Azkaban all lay dead, wounded, or unconscious thanks to the vicious attack of MacNair and his Horntail. The two of the beast-master's friends, each astride a Hebridean Black didn't hurt, either. And recruited Umbridge had been quite fortunate. One of the Aurors guarding the prison had owed the piggish little witch for something, and had smuggled in a box of wands for Lestrange and his men. They weren't the best wands, but they would do until they could acquire better. Their own wands, of course, had been snapped at their trials. But Lestrange was still smiling - grinning like a madman, really - as he left Azkaban by the simple expedient of walking through the hole in the wall that the dragon had created with its immense, spiked tail. Of all the elaborate escapes he had contemplated, this one was very nearly anticlimactic.

The thirty survivors of the Dark Lord's forces were all that remained of his army. But by Voldemort, Rodolphus decided, they would not go quietly into the night. Raising his newly acquired wand, he pointed it at the crumbling remains of Azkaban fortress, and spoke a single instruction to his compatriots.

"Level it," he growled, and cast the first spell himself, the most powerful Reductor Curse he could manage. MacNair's massive dragon took flight, and began to add its own flames to the carnage. Wave after wave of blue light came from the rocky coastline as the ancient fortress was battered from inside its own wards.

Within minutes, the feared wizard prison of Azkaban became nothing more than a pile of crumbling stone on a windswept, godforsaken island.

As the ancient fortress that so many wizards had been trained to fear fell, Lestrange watched with grim pleasure. As he led his men to the pier, where they would able to Apparate away, his attention was seized by a groan down near his feet.

An Auror - that fool Dawlish, wasn't it? - was dragging himself along the ground. The man was badly burned, and would no doubt die quite soon.

"Stop..." Dawlish gasped out, though he had to know his efforts were futile. "You're... under... arrest."

Lestrange let out a hearty laugh. "Such nonsense!" he said, kicking aside the man's hand. "For your temerity, though, I will grant you this one small mercy."

Dawlish's one good eye widened as the dark-haired wizard smiled once again, and aimed his wand. "Avada Kedavra," he whispered, and John Dawlish breathed his last.

"Come, my friends," Lestrange said, as though he had just done no more than swatted a fly. "We've an appointment to keep. Let's not be tardy."

After a morning spent - much to Harry, Ron, Neville and Dean's dismay - trawling through the jewelry and various other accessory shops in Hogsmeade, Harry was really quite pleased when the witches pronounced the shopping portion of the day to be done. The group subsequently paired off into couples, as was their wont. Neville and Susan - who were apparently 'on' again, much to Hannah's dismay, according to Ginny - headed off towards Madame Puddifoot's. Harry grimaced at that, and thought he saw Neville do so, as well. It was a bit like seeing a friend head off towards a funeral, or something similarly unpleasant.

"I don't get the attraction to Madame Puddifoot’s," Ron said, shaking his head.

Harry could only shrug, as there didn't really seem to be much to say to that. Ron knew very well that he didn't get it either - he was just thankful that Ginny hated the place as much as he did. The thought of Madame Puddifoot's did awake the familiar ache of when he thought of Cho, however. She had been his first crush, and Harry would always hold a place in her heart for that. Even now, months after her death, he still wished they could have gotten the chance to become friends.

A subtle squeeze of his hand let him know that Ginny was aware of the direction his feelings were taking. He felt her concern, and gave a small half-smile. It wasn't a smile that said he was okay - that would have been a lie, and therefore completely useless - but it reassured her that he would be fine.

"It's quite simple, Ronald," Luna answered, dragging Harry's attention back to his friends. "It's a very sappy place for the juvenile romantics that attend Hogwarts, people who do not have or do not want true intimacy, but are willing to settle for the appearance of it. Some girls like that sort of thing."

"Well, yeah," Ron said. "That I know. Still don't get why, though."

Harry smiled as he saw Hermione give his best mate a peck on the cheek. "That's because your emotional range has expanded just a bit, dear."

Harry grinned. "What're you up to, do you reckon?" he teased his friend. "Serving spoon?"

Ron grinned back. "A ladle, at the least."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Ginny and Dean looked momentarily confused. Luna didn't seem to particularly care that she didn't get the joke.

Instead, she turned to Dean, and in her generally forthright manner asked him, "Will we be getting a room at the Hog's Head? I'd quite like to have sex today."

Strangely, Harry found that Luna's pronouncement didn't surprise him - or any of the rest of his friends. It should have, he thought, but the fact was that Luna was quite open and frank about her own sexuality, just as she was with everything else. Harry had to fight a blush as he remembered that an errant question one afternoon had actually resulted in the blonde witch drawing out diagrams. No, after that discussion, it had become very difficult for Luna to shock any of them. He wondered, off-hand, if she had taken that as something of challenge.

That didn't surprise him either, he decided.

Dean, though, had seemed momentarily startled, but he and Luna had peeled off from the group in short order. Hermione was dragging Ron towards Scrivenshafts, and Harry and Ginny decided to take advantage of the distraction to disappear on their own.

They wandered a bit aimlessly for a time, speaking of whatever came to mind. They discussed Harry's ongoing Auror training. Harry, Ron, Susan and Cordelia had been joined by several others - Seamus, Blaise, Justin, Parvati, and most importantly, to Harry's mind, Neville. Three of Ginny's roommates as well, Miranda McGonagall, Katherine Rhodes and Mekaela St. George had signed up just last week. Kingsley had relaxed some of the restrictions for entering the Auror Program, citing credits for "prior experience." They now had two full-time Aurors staying at the castle just to train the dozen "reserve Aurors". They also discussed Ginny's prospects - her chances at the Harpies were looking better that ever, as the all-female Quidditch team had just announced that they would be seeking a new Chaser for the next season, and would be actively scouting.

Harry grimaced a little at this as he realized that meant Ginny would be stepping up the amount of Quidditch practices the team did. Hopefully not too much - she hadn't turned into Wood or Angelina. Yet.

They also ran briefly into Percy and his pregnant wife, Penelope. Percy was scouting a location in Hogsmeade for George and Lee to expand Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Harry promised to pass on to Ron that the business was doing well - Ron had been working for his brother from time to time before the year had started, especially once Harry had transferred his shares in the company to the youngest Weasley brother. What Ron had really been doing, of course, had been keeping an eye on George, and forcing him to work through his grief. Percy was filling that role now, in addition to his work at the Ministry.

After saying their goodbyes, Harry and Ginny wandered a bit more, this time in silence, simply enjoying the presence and mental feel of each other. Harry was surprised, eventually, when they came to a cave. The cave, in fact. The cave where Sirius, and later Hagrid, had hidden out at various times. Ginny cocked her head at the tenseness that spiked and then faded as he realized where they were. It was a feeling remarkably similar to what he had felt when he'd considered Puddifoot's and Cho earlier, and Harry wondered sometimes if the rest of his life would be thus - constant little reminders of what he had lost.

"Luv?" she asked, putting all of her questions into that one word.

He looked down at the small redhead at his side, and Harry just shrugged. No, life wasn't all loss, he reminded himself. There were certainly other, better things. And he knew - better than most - that the pain got easier with time. "Just missing people today, I guess. Madame Puddifoot’s made me think of Cho. And this cave makes me think of Sirius. Feels weird, sometimes, knowing Sirius lived here as a dog - just to be closer to me," he confided.

"He loved you, Harry," Ginny reminded him warmly. "I don't think it was that big a sacrifice for him."

Harry gave a wry smile. "I'd have done the same."

"I don't doubt that," she smiled back, and then reached for the handbag that was hanging for her shoulder. Harry raised an eyebrow as her arm disappeared up to the elbow - he hadn't realized that Hermione had made her a Bottomless Bag, too. "Dead useful, that," he commented, rather pointedly changing the subject. Today was not for grieving. Today was for better things.

She grinned widely as she pulled out a picnic basket and two chilled butterbeers. "Sure is."

The sequential 'pops' of nearly thirty apparitions, only a few hundred feet from the wizarding village of Hogsmeade, could not have gone unnoticed. Unfortunately for young Auror Ewan Mackenzie, he was the one to notice. Truthfully, he was the only Auror on duty in the town, and his duties were expected to be nothing more than resolving simple issues, or sending an alarm to the two senior Aurors present at Hogwarts responsible for training the dozen 'Reserve Aurors' that were studying for their final year of their Hogwarts education, and being given a crash-course in Auror operations. The procedure was that those two Aurors would then mobilize, calling on the reserves as necessary. Frankly, with the worst of the Death Eaters all locked away, no one was really expecting anything of consequence to happen in Hogsmeade.

That was very, very wrong, as it turned out.

Mackenzie never had a chance. Rodolphus Lestrange hit him with a killing curse before the rookie Auror could even draw his wand, and the remnants of the Death Eaters slipped into the town unnoticed, their prison robes transfigured into clothes that would allow them to blend - for a time, at least.

Lestrange walked with purpose as his men - and they were his men, now - split into the groups he'd assigned, heading for their targets. Their Lord was dead, yes, and Rodolphus was the strongest leader they had left. He had his own goals today, but for the majority of them, their goal was simple: Cause chaos. Lots and lots of it. The more mayhem, murder and destruction, the better. Lestrange had even timed their escape on the first of the students "Hogsmeade Weekends", just for maximum effect. The security provided by Shacklebolt's Ministry was a ramshackle thing, a house of cards loosely stacked upon a foundation of sand.

And Rodolphus Lestrange fancied himself the tide.

"Are you sure we should be attracting this attention, so soon?" Fenrir growled from his place at Lestrange's side. The werewolf was just itching to transform, but wanted to wait until the battle itself. He was one of the few able to control his transformation - because he had so willingly accepted the wildness of the wolf inside him. Greyback, Lestrange often thought, was far more monster than man. Still, he had his uses.

"Ah, yes," the little toad added, and Rodolphus did not hide his sneer. "I do have to wonder if this is the best course of action - "

"Be silent, Dolores," Lestrange said curtly. "Potter's debt has come due, and examples must be made."

"But attacking Hogsmeade?" Umbridge pressed on, blithely ignoring his warning. "That will hardly leave the populace disposed towards us when we seize power once more - "

Lestrange whirled in place, seizing the diminutive woman by her throat. Her eyes bulged satisfactorily as she began to sputter. "You assume I want to rule," he all but growled, and, his point made, he released her.

Umbridge slumped to the ground, grasping at her throat. "What...is it you want, then?"

"I want them to burn," he answered, and Delores Umbridge flinched at the look in his eyes. He could see her realization that she was in over her head; her sudden fear was like a physical thing. The observation made him smile. "I want to bring back our Lord, and then I want revenge. This 'peace' of theirs is a sham. They must be made to see the truth of the world."

"And that is?" she asked, not bothering to hide her fear.

"That we are all monsters, of course," Lestrange replied easily. "And in a world of monsters, only the strong survive. We shall see, then, who is worthy," he looked pointedly down at the toad-faced witch. "And who is not."

To his side, he saw Greyback grin widely at the promise of such glorious carnage.

He turned away from the woman - she had served her purpose now, and would receive her due soon enough - and drew a small pouch from his pocket. It was another item that Umbridge's "associate" had been able to smuggle into Azkaban. A single hair, belonging to none other than the blood-traitor Lucius Malfoy.

"Invenio," he muttered, laying the hair against his wand, and holding it flat in the palm of his hand. With a small flash, the hair ignited and disappeared, and the wand spun to point a particular direction - east. Following the wand's urging, Lestrange, Greyback and Umbridge proceeded to the poorest, most low-rent section of the town. It was an area no one liked to admit existed, and since the end of the war, had only grown. It was where the refugees, the homeless, the downtrodden went. Every society had such a place, and wizarding Britain was no different - especially since Knockturn Alley had been cleared out.

And it was where they found Lucius Malfoy, clutching a largely-empty bottle of cheap Muggle whiskey. It isn't even Firewhiskey, Lestrange thought disdainfully. Had the man no pride at all, anymore?

"Lucius, Lucius, Lucius," he said, his tone mocking. "You really have turned out to be such a disappointment."

Malfoy looked back, still haughty, even in his rags. Or he was trying to be, at least. Rodolphus had never liked the other man's "wizarder-than-thou" attitude, and he especially disliked it now. "Leave me be, Lestrange. I have no interest in associating with any of you." In point of fact, Malfoy's pardon was contingent on his having no contact with Death Eaters, former or otherwise. Lestrange knew that as well, but he cared very little.

"Quite all right, my dear Lucius," Rodolphus answered. "It won't take long for me to get what I want from you."

"And what is -" the blonde wizard was cut off as Lestrange pointed his wand, and spoke only two words.

"Siphon Totalus," he said, and a sickly yellow beam slammed Malfoy into the brick wall behind him. A sick crack sounded as the man's head was thrown backwards, but Lestrange paid it no mind. The beam expanded to envelop the blonde wizard in a bright nimbus of light, and Rodolphus had to fight the urge to cover his eyes. Instead, he watched clinically as the other man tried to scream. Lucius mouth worked frantically as the halo of light expanded, and then pushed - no, pulsed - backwards towards Rodolphus, and finally, up his arm. He breathed deep in as the feeling of power flooded him, and Rodolphus knew that the spell was working, and that he was absorbing the very magic from the blood traitor.

It was quite a satisfying feeling.

It was really too bad that the spell could only be performed once a month, or his own body would rip itself apart from the strain. But still, he drew even more satisfaction in using the ancient spell, one that had been hidden in Malfoy's own library, a spell that Malfoy himself had hidden from the Dark Lord.

The feeling - the rush - of empowerment began to fade, along with the nimbus of light, and finally Malfoy fell from the wall to the ground. A rivulet of blood ran down the wall where the man's head had struck, but physically, he was otherwise unharmed.

"Check him," Lestrange ordered, and Greyback moved forward quickly to comply. The werewolf pressed two fingers to Malfoy's neck, and then sniffed experimentally.

"Dead," the werewolf nodded. He looked slightly disappointed, but then, Greyback had often mentioned that he wanted to find out how Malfoy tasted.

"Very well," Lestrange shrugged. It was one less matter to worry about. He had what he needed from Lucius. He could practically feel the power singing in his veins. "Now. Let's finish what we came here for. Send the signal to the others."

"And the children?" Greyback asked, his gleaming smile now completely feral.

"Are yours," Rodolphus granted, and raised a finger in warning at the thought of his brother. "Except for Potter," he warned the werewolf. "He is mine."

Harry made a small moan of discontent as Ginny pulled away. They had begun to take advantage of their privacy after the picnic lunch, in the way that hormonal teenagers often did. In Harry's opinion, however, they were far too clothed to be putting a stop to things where they presently were.

"That's quite unfair of you, you know," He chastised her as she started to replace her hair elastic.

"Hmmmn?"

"Getting me all worked up like that. It's quite unfair."

She gave him a wicked grin in response. "I'm sure you'll pay me back for it later."

"Count on it," he promised, and leaned forward to capture her lips for another kiss.

"We should meet the others," Ginny smirked. He felt her amusement at his reaction (and obvious predicament), and was mollified by the knowledge that she didn't really want to stop either.

"We are," Harry nodded, and pointed back in the direction of town, and this time, she interrupted his words with a kiss. "At the Hog's Head, here in just a bit."

"Made the plans already, then?"

"Mmmn-hmmm," Harry replied, and returned to his self-appointed mission of counting all her freckles. He never seemed to move very far past her neck - as he claimed, he had to keep rechecking for new ones.

"At one, right?" She prompted.

"Mmmn-hmmm."

"Harr y, it's one-fifteen now."

Harry's head thudded back against the tree that he was sitting propped against. "Bugger," he muttered.

Quickly, laughingly, they gathered their things, and hurried back towards Hogsmeade. As they passed the bookstore, Ginny laughingly pointed out the large stack of unsold copies of Rita Skeeter's "tell-all" about Harry Potter and Voldemort, sitting next to the 'sold-out' sign for the book by Harry himself and Mr. Lovegood. It brought a smile to Harry's face as well, and they were still laughing about it as they passed through the doors, into the Hog's Head.

"Serves her right," Harry said smugly as they entered the bar.

And then Harry froze.

A feeling of déjà vu suddenly struck him, as he saw the way everyone was standing. A feeling of déjà vu so powerful that that didn't even seem to be an appropriate term. His dream the night before, all the details of it, came rushing to him - remembering the cave, and something about Lucius Malfoy, and then - he and Ginny were here, and there were Ron, and Hermione and Susan and Neville, Percy and Penelope -

"And Draco was there -" Harry murmured, and realized that Ginny was looking at him oddly, as Harry felt his alarm grow. Draco was there. Sitting alone, once again, and in a Firewhiskey that didn't look as though it was his first of the afternoon.

"Abe!" he called out, and Dumbledore's brother looked up sharply at his tone. Harry knew that there were edges of panic in his voice, but he didn't care. It was too soon. This was supposed to be over!

Be a dream, he fervently prayed. Merlin, please, be just a dream!

"Yeah?" the grizzled veteran asked, looking at him expectantly.

"Ariana's portrait - open the passageway!" He said, falling into the 'command tone' that he'd gotten accustomed to during their Auror training sessions. He'd become their de facto squad leader, and it was a responsibility that he found fit comfortably these days. "Get everyone back to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Hermione, Ron, seal the front door, now! Cordy, Mekaela, Miranda - look for somewhere we can fire at the street with cover. "

"Second floor windows," Neville answered immediately. It was a mark of how many people trusted Harry that no one was questioning his sudden, mysterious orders.

"Go, now," he said, and saw the two dark-haired witches rush up the stairs, accompanied by Justin and a few wizards who'd been members of the D.A. and the Mudblood Resistance.

"Harry, what's-" Ginny started, and then clamped her mouth shut. Not because she wasn't curious, but because it was no longer necessary. Outside, the sounds of spellfire - and the screams - had begun. Harry cursed softly to himself.

"Damn it," he muttered, "It wasn't a dream." With his attention focused outside of the windows, he missed Ginny's sharp glare at his words.

Hermione had moved quickly to comply with Harry's orders, as had everyone else. The witches and wizards of Hogsmeade were fighting back, he could see through the windows. Spells coming from above his position meant that Cordy and the others had taken the initiative and were attacking the Death Eaters (he assumed that was who the attackers were) from their raised positions. All of the younger students were following instructions, and heading back through the door that Aberforth had indicated. Still only a few could go through the portrait portal at a time.

"It's Lestrange," Ron reported from the other window, after he'd spelled away enough of the grime. Idly, Harry wondered why Abe didn't keep this place cleaner. It wasn't as though cleaning magic was particularly difficult...

Back on task, Potter, he admonished himself, and gave Ron his full attention.

"Who else?" Harry asked, moving quickly to stand behind him, Ginny and Hermione right at his side. Neville and Susan were there as well, and Draco - well, he was still sitting at his table drinking Firewhiskey, supremely unconcerned.

"Carrows, Goyle - mate, there's at least two dozen of them out there!" Ron cursed again. "Harry, sodding Umbridge is with them!"

"Always knew that old bint was Dark," Ginny muttered. Harry nodded his agreement.

"Harry, all of these people are supposed to be in Azkaban," Hermione pointed out.

"And Kingsley's not likely to cover up something like this," Ron added. "Fudge or Scrimgoeur, sure, but not Kingsley."

He nodded his agreement once again. "King doesn't have enough Aurors to keep the department up and Azkaban under guard," Harry muttered, putting the pieces together. "But someone should have been able to get word out, unless..." Harry trailed.

"Unless there was no one left to," Ron finished for him.

"They seem to be following Lestrange," Hermione noted. "And Greyback," she shuddered.

Harry felt the need to shudder, himself, though he didn't show it.

"Everyone's pulling into their buildings and sealing up," Ron reported as the sounds of spellfire began to die down. Harry sent a Patronus message back to McGonagall, even as Ron sent one to their supervisors and Neville sent one to the Ministry. A moment after the silvery stag, Ron's terrier, and Neville's bear disappeared through the windows; the front door began to thud. Harry saw the flashes through the windows. Hermione's wards glowed brightly, and the flashed as they broke under the assault.

"They're coming in!" Ginny cried.

Harry whirled on the remaining students. "Everyone into the back rooms, now! Get back to the castle!" He had both of his wands out then, and turned to face the door just as it was beginning to crack, he looked to Ron and Neville.

"It's going to be too crowded in here," Ron muttered. "We're not going to have room to move."

"I'm open to suggestion, mate," Harry replied. "But I don't think they'll cooperate if we just ask them to step outside, though."

"Agreed," Ron nodded.

It was Neville who had the idea. "Blow out the wall, then."

"I'll pay Abe for the damages later. Do it," Harry responded. "Reducto on three."

Just as the door splintered and Rodolphus Lestrange led his group of former Death Eaters inside the pub, Harry, Ron and Neville launched their spells, each targeting one section of the walls. Blue light shot forth from four wands, and the force scattered Rodolphus and his Death Eaters - along with most of the wall - back out into the street.

"Surrender, Lestrange!" Harry called out. He heard an ominous creak above him, and fervently hoped that they hadn't caused too much property damage. "By order of the Ministry of Magic, you and your associates are under arrest, on the charge of felony escape!"

"Not likely, boy," the dark wizard coldly replied, and Harry noted Lestrange had no debris at all on him - clearly he'd gotten a shield up in time. "You'll find things have changed."

"I've sent you to Azkaban once, Lestrange. I'll send you back just as easily," Harry responded as his nerves quieted. He was no boy anymore, no stranger to battle. He was afraid yes, but his fear was controlled, and it served only to heighten his responses.

He raised his shield just in time to reflect the incoming curse. It was a bright blue curse, and not one he was familiar with.

Flippendo, he thought absently, sending the first curse Lestrange's way, even as his own allies started firing on the Death Eaters that had entered the ramshackle pub. It was chaos, and Harry was only barely able to keep track of everything that was going on as he and Lestrange each focused on taking the other out.

Harry dodged a stream of fire that Lestrange sent his way, but as he sprawled out on the floor of the pub, he was hit was a Pulsus charm that sent him flying all the way to the back wall of the pub. He watched as the timber above him began to crack and splinter, and only barely moved before a portion of the roof came crashing in on him. Even more of the roof fell back near the front, where they had blown at the wall.

"Good reflexes," he heard Draco's sardonic drawl, and was surprised to see the former Death Eater up and casting hexes at his former compatriots. After a moment, he realized that the blonde wizard was quite drunk.

"Think you should be fighting in your condition?" Harry asked, sending an array of blasting hexes back towards Lestrange, who was now preoccupied with Neville and Susan.

"As I don't really care if I live, I don't see why not," the blonde wizard replied in a moment of uncharacteristic frankness.

Busy replying to Harry, Draco didn't see at all, the Killing Curse that was coming his way, and Harry quickly summoned a chair to take the curse instead.

He got a surprise when Malfoy turned on him in a rage. "Damn you, Potter! Why do you keep trying to save me?!"

Harry answered him coldly, "Because Albus Dumbledore thought you were worth it," he answered. "But if you don't care about your own life, I'll leave you to it." Without another word, Harry started looking for a way to get back over to where Lestrange was now dueling Percy. Penelope was behind her husband, clutching at her stomach in a way that wasn't good. Susan was down, Harry saw, and Neville was treating her. Reflexively, he looked for Ginny, and saw her taking cover near the rubble that had fallen in from the second floor. Ron and Hermione had joined Abe behind the bar, and were sniping hexes out when they could. He couldn't see the other girls, and abruptly, Harry remembered that they had been upstairs.

No time for that now, he admonished himself, and tried to get a clear shot at Lestrange once more. It was difficult to get through the bar, and Harry wasn't sure he could make it in time.

"Confringo! Sectumsempra!" Lestrange yelled, one after another, and this time, Harry realized, Percy's reflexes would be just a bit too slow. Harry tried to cast a shield between them, but the spell rebounded off a stray rafter.

"Penelope, move!" he shouted, but his words were too late. The blasting hex caught Percy in his shoulder, sending the Weasley brother spinning - and the Sectumsempra caught Penelope right in her abdomen.

No, no, no, Harry thought franticly, and cast a charm that blew every bit of debris between him and Lestrange right at the Death Eater. The other man grinned at this, and their duel resumed in earnest. It didn't take Harry long to determine that something had changed since he'd faced Lestrange back in August. The long-haired, goateed Death Eater was far, far stronger than he'd been in their last confrontation.

"Diffindo! " Harry muttered, making a slashing motion with the Elder wand, and using his Holly one to levitate a chair towards the other wizard.

"Reducto!" Lestrange destroyed the projectiles and took the spell, which caught him in the arm. Harry watched another wizard yelled something, which seemed to please Lestrange. That couldn't be good. "Enough of this!" he snarled. "We have what we came for. Bring the building down!"

"Reducto!" he cried again, aiming his curse at the ceiling, and even as his followers targeted the floor, Harry's feeling of déjà vu returned full-force.

"NO!" Harry yelled, rushing towards where Ginny was trying to help Cordy up from under a fallen beam. Cordy and the other girls had been upstairs, he realized, and Ginny had been trying to pull them out of the rubble while under fire. Ginny turned at his cry, even as Lestrange's spell struck the timbers with an earsplitting 'CRACK'. As his hand closed around Ginny's arm, her eyes went wide as he Apparated her away.

Unfortunately, Harry neglected to Apparate himself, as well, and as the ceiling fell on top of him, and the floor fell out from underneath him, the last thing he was aware of was a great pain in his back, and that Cordy's horrified face was only inches from his own.

And then a merciful darkness claimed him.