Year 7-25: Support and Sacrifice

Harry arose early the next morning, unable to stay in bed and pretend to sleep any longer. Dahlia was already up as well, reading nothing of substance in the library...based on the heavy bags under her eyes, she too was unable to find rest. Fleur joined them soon after in the kitchen for breakfast, adding to the somber silence that nobody wanted to breach with meaningless small talk.

James and Lily entered the kitchen together, bringing a ray of sunshine into the room full of gloom. They were holding hands and practically glowing with contentment...both looked infinitely happier now that they were back together after a year spent apart.

"Morning, gang!" James said cheerily, pouring himself a cup of coffee as Lily planted a wet kiss on his cheek before joining the others at the table. "Sleep well?"

Lily was the first to notice the heavy atmosphere around her. "Why the long faces, everyone?" she frowned. "Is something the matter?"

Dahlia and Fleur both glanced at Harry, who sighed heavily. "Something's happened," he said. "We need to talk to you."

"What about?" asked James, frowning as he glanced between his two children with concern.

"We found Neville Longbottom," said Harry. "He's here, in Britain, staying with Viktor Krum."

"He is?" said James, bewildered. "But that's good news, isn't it? Is he injured or something?"

"No, he's fine," said Harry. "It's just...well, there's a problem."

"Like what, dear?" Lily frowned, looking on in concern.

Harry took a deep steadying breath. He felt Fleur's hand slip into his own, silently reassuring him and giving him the courage to continue.

"Remember when I told you about Voldemort's horcruxes?" he asked his father. "And how we've been trying to destroy them all?"

"Of course," said James. "And you succeeded, didn't you? They're all gone."

"Almost," Harry sighed. "There's one more. And it's inside Neville's scar."

There was a moment's silence as James and Lily processed this. "What do you mean, 'inside' his scar?" asked Lily. "How did it get there?"

"Voldemort created it by accident, when he tried to kill Neville as a baby," Harry explained. "Part of his soul latched itself onto Neville, which is why he can see through Voldemort's perspective at times and speak Parseltongue. And as long as that soul fragment remains active, Voldemort is still immortal."

James frowned as the implications of that statement, as Lily's eyes slowly widened in horror. "Is Voldemort aware of this?" he asked.

"We don't think so," said Harry. "Or else he wouldn't be trying so hard to kill Neville, would he?"

"No, I suppose not," James muttered, brow furrowing in concern. "This is concerning news, highly concerning indeed."

"But why did you not tell us this the other night?" asked Lily. "Have you known this all along?"

"Yes," Harry admitted sheepishly. "I wanted to talk to Neville about it before involving anyone else. I figured he ought to have a say in what we do about it. We hoped that the Deathly Hallows would be able to rid him of the horcrux safely, but well, that didn't work either."

"And we're not bloody trying it again," Dahlia said emphatically, paling at the reminder of the harrowing afternoon the day prior.

"How would the Hallows have helped rid him of the…?" James muttered, confused. Then, realization dawned on him, as he raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Don't tell me you did what I think you did!"

"It was Neville's idea!" Harry protested. "It wouldn't be murder if it was planned between us, would it? And it's not like we've found a better method to destroy the damned thing!"

"You were going to kill the poor boy without coming to us first for help?!" Lily gasped, putting two and two together herself. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking we have a war to win!" Harry said hotly, feeling strangely defensive. "And destroying that horcrux is the only way to finish off Voldemort for good!"

"'Arry was only doing what he thought was best," Fleur said placatingly, sensing his growing agitation. "We 'ave been searching for a solution without success for years now, and an opportunity presented itself. It was a group decision."

"There must be another way to remove it," said Lily, looking worriedly to her husband. "Right, dear? You said you've dealt with horcruxes before as an Auror...surely one of your old colleagues can help us."

"The only way I know of removing one is by destroying the host," said James. "I can't think of anyone who would know more, besides maybe an Unspeakable or one of the goblins or curse-breakers at Gringotts."

"We've already tried that," said Harry. "Saul Croaker and Bill Weasley didn't know of a way, and the goblins' method is purging the host in a dragon-fire forge. We even asked a necromancer, Rakhaman the Defiler, and he couldn't help us."

"You did what?!" Lily exclaimed. "Don't tell me you were responsible for that incident at the Pyramids last spring!"

"Yeah, that was us," Harry said sheepishly; he'd omitted that part from his explanation about the horcruxes the week prior. "And Dumbledore's only solution was the Hallows, so that's what we tried. Nothing else seemed plausible enough to try."

The room sat in awkward silence for a moment, mulling over the gravity of the situation. Then, everyone jumped as a loud buzzing sound emitted from James' side. He reached into his robes and withdrew a small pocket watch; he consulted it for a moment before tapping his wand to the metal shell, silencing it.

"We need to get to the warehouse," James muttered, glancing at Lily. "I've called a strategy meeting to discuss tactics."

"We're coming too," Harry said firmly, indicating himself and Fleur. "And so are Viktor, Hermione and Neville."

"Good," James nodded. "We can all get together and discuss what to do about this horcrux situation."

"Pardon, Monsieur Potter," Fleur said uncertainly. "But eez it wise to tell so many people about ze scar? What if that information leaks to Voldemort?"

"We aren't meeting with the full resistance," said James. "Only a smaller group of people we can trust. It will be a good opportunity to talk this over."

Something about this plan struck Harry as odd. Did James not trust everybody at the resistance? Didn't they all share the same goal of defeating Voldemort? Or were there fractures within the larger whole that concerned James? He would definitely have to ask about that later.

"We should go," said Lily, standing from her seat. "Dahlia, you can stay here and help Amelia with the baby until we return."

"No way!" Dahlia protested. "I want to come! I want to be a part of this!"

"You're still underage for another month," James said sternly. "And you haven't even completed your sixth year of schooling. It's too dangerous."

"But I've been training with Harry all this time!" Dahlia insisted. "I can hold my own, honestly!"

"She should at least be in the loop about what we're planning," Harry piped up in defense of his sister. "It's not like she'll be on the front lines when the battle comes. It's just a meeting, isn't it?"

James and Lily shared a worried look. "Very well," Lily sighed. "But you are not to stray from our sight for a moment, is that understood, young lady?"

"Yes, Mum," Dahlia said sullenly. She gave Harry an appreciative nod as the group moved toward the entryway, linking arms to Apparate to the warehouse.

The place was far busier than Harry remembered from the day before. Most of the once-empty bunks were now occupied, and several hundred more fighters were present, a cacophony of voices filling the cavernous space with noise. The group also looked more organized than the ICW forces had been the year prior...Harry could see small groups forming, with commanders issuing orders as they went through light training exercises. Sebastian had chosen his people well, and it filled Harry with hope for the war to come.

And almost as soon as they crossed the floor towards the meeting room, another sight filled him with joy. "Uncle Remus!" Harry exclaimed, running across the expanse towards his surrogate uncle. "You're here!"

"Harry!" laughed Remus Lupin, embracing the teen in a fierce hug. "Glad to see you in one piece again. I heard it's been a rough couple of weeks for you."

"Glad you could make it, Moony," said James, clapping his fellow Marauder on the shoulder. "Not too much trouble getting back into the country, I hope?"

"Oh, not at all," Remus grinned. "Voldemort never was too strict in monitoring the more mundane forms of transportation in and out of Britain. Did you know the Muggles dug a tunnel to France beneath the Channel? We only had to Confund one train conductor to make it through unnoticed."

"Yes, it is nice to be back in Britain, despite ze circumstances," said Alessia, also greeting the group with a broad smile. "We look forward to liberating her from her captors."

"Hear, hear," said James. "Have you spoken with Sebastian?"

"Yes, he's meeting with his recruits at the moment," said Remus, pointing in the direction of the makeshift barracks across the room. "He's raised quite the formidable army...his men are well-trained for combat."

"Papa is quite experienced in ze art of combat," Fleur agreed with a faint smile of pride. "'E often deals with shady people, and 'is closest confidants are used to things going wrong."

Harry got that sense as well from his brief glimpses of the training going on across the room. A select group of older, gruff-looking wizards were barking orders at the other recruits, looking calm, poised and experienced despite the heavy odds against them.

"Are you able to join us for a meeting in about ten minutes?" James asked Remus and Alessia. "We have some important matters to discuss with Harry and Neville."

"You found Longbottom, then?" said Remus. "Tremendous news! I know many people will be eager to hear he's alive and well."

Harry's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the reminder of the difficult task ahead with Neville. Fleur must have sensed this, as she slipped her hand into his to calm his nerves.

"Come, let us find my father before ze meeting," she suggested. And she guided Harry away, leaving the former Marauders to catch up. She continued to hold his hand tight, squeezing it for reassurance.

"Thanks," Harry muttered. "I'm okay, honestly."

"You are doing the right thing in telling your family the truth," Fleur reminded him. "They can 'elp you, and want only what is best for you and your future."

"Yeah, you're right," Harry nodded. He knew she was referring not only to Neville, but the truth about his past. He would disclose that uncomfortable truth to them when the moment presented itself...but not right now. Too many other pressing matters needed addressing first before he could drop that bombshell on his loved ones.

They wandered past the rows of training fighters, watching the various witches and wizards running through their drills. None of them seemed as skilled as some of the mercenaries and Death Eaters that Harry knew were among Voldemort's ranks, but they were at least competent duelists and willing to take orders. He wondered how many of these fighters were volunteers, and how many were being paid by Fleur's father or other benefactors to aid Britain's cause. The logistics of war were way over Harry's head, and he was glad he was not in charge of such operations.

They located Sebastian near the heart of the barracks, speaking with a handful of what Harry presumed to be his top lieutenants. All seemed familiar with one another, speaking jovially and addressing one another as one would a long-time friend or partner. Sebastian turned towards the new arrivals, a smile brightening his features when he spotted his daughter.

"Ah, ma puce," he greeted Fleur, kissing her on the cheek. "It 'as been too long. Are you well?"

"Oui, Papa," Fleur smiled. "You remember 'Arry, of course?"

"Naturally," said Sebastian, giving Harry a gruff handshake. "It would appear that you are courting my daughter, Mr. Potter."

"Er…" Harry stammered. He realized that he and Fleur were still holding hands, and he had not had the opportunity to speak to her father about the development. "Yes, sir. And I apologize for not discussing it with you earlier. But I care deeply for Fleur, and I hope you know that I would never hurt her or take advantage of her."

Sebastian scrutinized Harry silently, studying him with a calculating expression. The four other men around Sebastian also regarded him with mild suspicion – Harry wondered if they were close enough to the Delacours to be protective of Fleur as well. It dawned on Harry that Sebastian would make for a formidable and dangerous enemy if he and Fleur ever had a falling-out.

But to his relief, Sebastian laughed and pulled Harry in for a tight bear hug. "Eet is about time!" he exclaimed. "As if I could ever prevent my Fleur from going after what she wants. She is a strong-willed woman, 'Arry, and you would do well to remember that if you are to keep her favor."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," Harry chuckled awkwardly. Fleur blushed as her father proudly cupped Harry's cheeks and kissed him on the forehead...that was about as clear of a blessing as Harry could have hoped for. Sebastian must have already known (or at least suspected) he and Fleur were together...apparently everyone but Harry had seen it as an inevitability.

"Are these all of your fighters?" asked Fleur, gesturing around the room in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

"Almost," said Sebastian. "We are working on bringing ze last few groups into the country without detection. And I 'ope to speak with Mister Krum about integrating his own recruits into our own."

"He will be here soon for the strategy meeting," said Harry.

"Good, very good," said Sebastian. "I 'ope that he can bring some much-needed unity for zis unruly bunch."

"Unity?" Harry repeated. "Why wouldn't everyone be united?"

"I imagine that is what your father wishes to discuss today," Sebastian sighed. "Things have been...tense in ze past few days."

Once again Harry wondered what kind of tension and disunity could be brewing behind the scenes of the resistance. James had also hinted at it earlier, suggesting a need for a more tight-knit group to rely on within the larger whole. He remembered Amos Diggory's rebuke the day before, as well as the suspicious looks the elder Weasleys had given him, and wondered if that had something to do with it.

But before he could voice these concerns aloud, a hubbub across the room caught everyone's attention. Groups of fighters were flocking to the center of the room, towards a new arrival. A buzz of excitement followed this mass migration, and Harry and the others followed to see what the commotion was about.

Harry spotted Viktor Krum through the crowd, at the center of everybody's attention. It wasn't a surprise, really: the international Quidditch star had arrived, to rally everyone to a common cause. But he quickly realized that it was not Krum that had everyone excited. It was Hermione, who stood uncertainly beside him, that was receiving the lion's share of attention.

"Miss Granger!" someone shouted. "Where have you been all these months?"

"Is Longbottom safe?" someone else asked. "Has he returned to save us?"

"Please, everyone, Neville is fine," Hermione shouted over the crowd, shaking a few outstretched hands. "He's feeling a bit under the weather this morning, but he'll be back with us soon."

Harry was astonished by the near-celebrity status Hermione was receiving, particularly from the British members of the resistance. But he supposed it did make sense: Neville had become something of a symbol of hope in the country, as word of the prophecy became known amongst the public. Harry had heard the whispers in the past, calling Neville the 'Chosen One' who would one day return from his exile to vanquish Voldemort, and Hermione was his closest ally, receiving reverential treatment in kind.

"Mr. Krum," said Sebastian, making his way through the crowd to shake the ex-Seeker's hand. "A pleasure to be finally meeting you face to face. Shall we talk in a more private setting?"

"By all means," Krum agreed. The two headed across the room, with Harry, Hermione and Fleur close behind.

"So where is Neville, really?" Harry whispered to Hermione as the crowd began to disperse around them.

Hermione glanced around nervously before leaning forward to respond in a hushed tone. "He decided to stay home," she whispered. "He still feels unwell after yesterday, and didn't want to face a big crowd right now."

"Got it," said Harry. He supposed he couldn't blame Neville...the boy had just received the worst news possible, and still needed time to process his impending mortality. Coming here and receiving a hero's welcome was probably far from the poor teen's mind right now.

The group headed to the far end of the warehouse, where a number of smaller enclosed rooms sat. One of them contained a long conference table, around which several people were standing and chatting with one another. James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Alessia and Andromeda were all present, along with Dahlia, Damian, Ron, and another familiar face that made Harry grin.

"Mr. Greengrass!" he greeted the man. "Glad to see you alive and well."

"Likewise, Harry," smiled Dale Greengrass, shaking Harry's hand fervently. He looked thinner and more on-edge than the last time they'd met, but then again, so was everyone else amidst the hardships of war. "I must thank you for watching over my daughter this past year. I am forever grateful."

"Of course," said Harry. "She's been a tremendous help to me as well."

"Is that Ronald, then?" asked Dale, frowning slightly as he eyed the redhead across the room. "I hear he may be my new son-in-law soon."

"So it would seem," Harry chuckled. "I'm honestly not sure if he's more afraid of you or Voldemort right now." Indeed, Ron appeared to be pointedly avoiding Dale's gaze, hiding behind Damian's bulky frame to evade his notice.

"It's my wife he should truly be afraid of," Dale grinned. "She'll be the first to have his hide if he neglects his duties as a father. But I've seen the way Daphne lights up when she talks about him...if he makes her happy, then I'm happy as well."

"How is Daphne?" asked Harry. "I hope the stress of the escape didn't harm her or the baby."

"She's doing fine," said Dale. "A bit shaken up, but she's been remarkably brave. She's recovering at our safe house with her mother and sister."

"Give her my best," said Harry. Dale nodded his agreement, as James called the room to order to begin the meeting.

"Thank you all for coming," he said as the small group took their seats around the table. "Tomorrow we will be conducting a much larger strategy meeting with the rest of the group. But first, there are some things we need to discuss in private, among friends and family."

"Yeah, why all the secrecy?" asked Harry. "What's really been going on around here? Aren't you the one in charge?"

James exchanged a terse glance with Sebastian before responding. "There are some, shall we say...disgruntled members of the resistance movement," he sighed. "Mainly among the British contingent."

"Disgruntled how?" Fleur asked.

"Many are unhappy with ze way Minister Potter 'andled things in office," Sebastian explained. "Some feel that 'e is complicit with ze Dark Lord's crimes, and is unfit to lead."

"Bullshit," Harry huffed. "He's half the reason we're still in a position to fight back. If he had done anything differently, Britain would have collapsed much, much sooner."

"Of course many understand this," Sebastian said placatingly. "Mostly on ze continent, 'e is still well-regarded for his past efforts. But his fellow countrymen may not take too kindly to 'is leadership efforts at ze moment."

"Well, they can just deal with it," Harry said hotly. "We have a common enemy, and we can deal with our petty differences once Voldemort is dead."

"I wish that all shared your sentiment," said James. "But such heavy-handed leadership will not go over well with many. Some grudges run too deep to be set aside so easily."

Harry thought back to his interaction with Amos Diggory the day before in the infirmary. "Not all of us will so easily forget your past crimes." How many more agreed with him within their ranks? Would the Potter name ever be able to recover, even if the war was won?

"So if you're not in charge, who is?" asked Remus.

"That's what we need to discuss," said James. "There will likely be a vote, and we'll have a significant voting bloc to support a candidate that we can work with. Ideally it would be somebody in this room, but that may not be feasible. Anyone close to me will be distrusted by association, and anyone from outside of Britain will face similar problems gaining the trust of the British fighters. No offense, of course."

"None taken," Krum shrugged. Knowing him, Harry doubted the man would have wanted to lead an army anyway.

"Who are ze leading candidates?" asked Sebastian.

"Amos Diggory is making a push for leadership," said James. "He's well-liked by his fellow Brits, but he has an axe to grind with me and would likely make cooperation difficult. The Weasleys are also popular, but they too hold a grudge, particularly against Harry."

"Not all of us," Ron said defiantly. "Fred and George still trust Harry, even if the rest of my brothers or my parents don't."

"One of them could be an option, then," said James. "Though I worry about their lack of tactical experience...talented wizards though they are, combat strategy is not their area of expertise."

"Maybe Cedric or Tonks?" Harry suggested. "They were both Aurors, and they've been in the resistance longer than most."

"That's a thought," James mused. "Though I don't know how close Cedric is to his father. If Amos is constantly in his ear, he could prove just as problematic."

"I'll ask around and see which way the winds are blowing," Dale offered. "I still have some sway among the British group, even if they know I was allied with the Potters in the past."

"Very good," said James. "We should settle on a name to champion by tomorrow morning. Now, let's talk logistics. Viktor, how many fighters are you able to provide for us?"

"I haff spoken to over five hundred who volunteered for the cause," said Krum. "I do not know how many vill stay true to their word, but once I put the word out, I can have them here within hours."

"I have a few 'undred more in waiting as well," said Sebastian. "All told, zat is close to two thousand fighters."

"We can work with that," said James. "By our last estimations, Voldemort's army is just over three thousand, but many are spread across the globe, preparing their own takeover operations. We might just be able to gain the upper hand if we strike quickly and decisively."

"How are we going to draw Voldemort out of hiding, though?" asked Sirius. "He rarely shows his face in public anymore."

"That will be a discussion for tomorrow's strategy meeting," said James. "But first, we need to talk about Neville Longbottom."

"Yes, why is he not with us?" said Remus, turning towards Hermione and Ron. "Everyone assumed you three were working on something important for the war effort."

Hermione looked sheepish at this reminder. "We were...well, in a sense," she muttered. "But that doesn't matter now. We, er, have a bit of a problem, you see."

"What kind of problem?" asked Andromeda.

Hermione seemed reluctant to answer, as a gloom settled over the teens in the room who knew the truth. Harry took it upon himself to respond.

"To make a long story short, Neville is housing a piece of Voldemort's soul within his scar," he said. "Voldemort himself is unaware that it exists. But as long as Neville remains alive, Voldemort's soul is tethered to this world, and he cannot die."

"Bloody hell," breathed Dale Greengrass. "Can this soul piece be removed?"

"That's what we've been trying to figure out for the past few years," Harry sighed, indicating himself and Fleur. "But so far the only method we know for sure will work is killing the host. We've searched for ways around it, but as far as we can figure, the only way to be sure the fragment is destroyed is for Neville to die."

"How awful," Alessia lamented. "To think that ze poor boy was doomed to die all along...it is unconscionable."

"Maybe he still doesn't have to die," Harry insisted. "We can try again with the Hallows. Neville doesn't think they will work, but Dumbledore did, and it's worth a second try if he might survive it."

"If my memory is correct, you did not seem to believe it vould work, either," Krum pointed out. "Or any of us for that matter."

"Well, maybe we were wrong!" Ron piped in. "And if it comes down to being murdered by Voldemort, or him having a small chance at living, it makes more sense for one of us to do it, doesn't it?"

"You can't be serious, Ron!" Hermione gasped. "You're talking about killing your best friend!"

"I'm talking about saving him!" Ron protested. "It's like chess...sometimes you have to put your valuable pieces in danger to win the long game! Would you rather Voldemort live on forever?"

"No, of course not," Hermione said crossly. "I'm just saying...oh, I don't know what I'm saying! It just doesn't feel right to talk about Neville this way without him here!"

"I too would feel more comfortable if he was here with us," James said diplomatically. "Condemning him to death without his input is not a pleasant situation to be in. Regardless, we may have to make a difficult decision very soon."

"Decision?" Dahlia repeated. "Dad, you can't be saying what I think you're saying!"

"This is war, sweetheart," said James softly. "Of course we all want what is best for Neville. But if his life stands in the way of us and victory, we may be left with no other option."

"You can't be seriously considering murder, James!" said Lily. "He's just a boy!"

"A boy who is harboring a dangerous Dark Lord within him," James sighed. "I don't like it any more than you do, but this war must end, and soon. Unless anyone here has any better suggestions?"

Nobody responded. It was just as Harry feared: there was no alternative, no other way out of this predicament, except the obvious, most cruel solution.

"I'll do it," Harry said resolutely. "I'll give him the Wand back and we can try again. Worst case scenario, his blood is on my hands, and nobody else's."

"We are doing nothing until we've sat down with Neville and gone over the options with him," James said firmly. "And you are not doing this on your own, do you understand? You have enough blood on your hands already, Harry...I don't need you adding more on your conscience."

"But I don't want anyone else to damage their souls on account of my failures," Harry lamented. "I can do it, I've done it before—"

"Dear, you must stop taking on every problem on your own," said Lily softly. "No one should have to shoulder as much responsibility as you already have in this war. Let us handle this one – you don't have to worry yourself with it any more.

Harry nodded sullenly. In spite of his qualms, he felt a wave of relief at her words. It was like a tremendous burden had been lifted off of his shoulders...the responsible adults would now be able to help share the load. Whether or not they found a productive solution to the scar horcrux problem, he no longer felt like he was alone, like he was the sole arbiter of whether Neville lived or died.

"Here's what we're going to do," said James, pulling out his pocket watch and checking the time once more. "I have more work to do around here preparing the ingress of more fighters to the Isles. You lot speak to Neville and invite him to dinner at Grimmauld Place tonight. We'll go over everything together and figure out a plan, with his input included. Whatever we decide, it will be as a group. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said Harry. The other teens nodded their assent as well.

"Good," said James, rising from his seat. "I've got to speak to the twins about preparing more Portkeys from the continent. See you all tonight." And he swept from the room, disbanding the meeting as the other adults also stood to attend to their own respective duties.

"Be honest, Hermione," said Harry, turning to her as the group began to filter out of the room. "How is Neville, really? Did you talk to him long this morning?"

"Only through the door to his bedroom," Hermione sighed. "Sounded like he didn't sleep very much. I'm sure he's just stressed after yesterday."

"I'll talk some sense into him," Ron said confidently. "Nev just gets up in his own head too much sometimes."

"Can I come and speak to him?" Dahlia asked hesitantly. "He'll listen to me, I just know it."

"Yes, perhaps you should," Hermione agreed.

"Anything I can do to help?" Damian Dursley piped up, long forgotten amidst the chaos of the past few weeks.

"Where's your mother?" Harry asked the teen...he had not seen Aunt Petunia in weeks. "Shouldn't you be with her?"

"She went into hiding in the States, to get away from this whole mess," Damian shrugged. "Uncle James says I'll have to join her once the fighting starts, but I don't wanna leave while you lot are all still here. I've been staying in the barracks and helping Cedric out here and there."

"Go see if he needs help with anything, then," Harry suggested. "We might need his support later, depending on how the leadership vote goes tomorrow."

Damian nodded and took off across the floor. Harry joined up with Hermione, Ron, Fleur, Krum, and Dahlia, all linking arms and Apparating together to Krum's safe house. It was quiet – there was no indication anyone was up and active in the home.

Dahlia marched straight up the stairwell without delay. "Which room is Neville's?" she demanded.

"Second door on the left," Hermione responded.

Dahlia headed straight for the indicated door and began knocking incessantly. "Oi, idiot, open up!" she called out. "I'm not going away until you answer me."

There was no sound from within the room...Neville clearly was not in the mood to talk.

"C'mon, mate, we're all here to support you, y'know," Ron shouted. "Just open up and quick being a ponce about this." Still there was no response.

"Oh, enough of this," Hermione huffed, drawing her wand and pointing it at the doorknob. "Alohomora." The door clicked open, swinging outward as the group peered inside.

Harry frowned...Neville was not in his room at all. In fact, there was hardly any sign that anyone had been there to begin with. The bed was neatly-made, and none of Neville's belongings were strewn about.

"But...where could he have gone?" Ron wondered aloud. He turned toward the stairwell and yelled, "OI, NEV! YOU DOWNSTAIRS, MATE?"

"I don't think he's here," Harry muttered. A sinking feeling was settling in his gut, and he was starting to suspect that something had gone very wrong.

"Why do you think that?" asked Dahlia worriedly.

"Look," said Harry, pointing at the bed. There, unnoticed at first, was a small bundle of fabric, tucked neatly beside the pillow. It shimmered slightly in the dim lighting, and Harry recognized it at once as the Invisibility Cloak. And sitting atop it, along with the ring containing the Resurrection Stone, was a folded note, bearing a brief missive on the outside: 'To Harry'.

Harry rushed forward and picked up the parchment, as the others gasped in realization of what this meant. He unfolded the slip of paper and read:

Harry,

I'm writing this to you because I know you alone will understand. The others will just freak out and think I'm crazy, but you've always known me better than anybody. Sometimes I think you know me even better than I know myself.

I spoke to Dumbledore last night, and he confirmed everything you said. I think you're right – he didn't sound too sure about this 'Master of Death' business either. He just hoped that the fables were true and they would help me cheat death, even though he always said it could not be cheated. Bit contradictory, don't you think?

I also talked to my parents. They told me they loved me and were proud of me. I asked them what they thought I should do. They said it was my decision, but they would support me no matter what I did.

It made me think a lot about family. I've always envied the relationship you have with your parents and sister. Plus, you and Fleur make a great couple and I'm sure you'll be happy together. Ron and Daphne have their baby on the way, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Viktor and Hermione won't be far behind them. Please don't ask me how I know that...I'm a light sleeper.

Even Dahlia—

At this point, the letter was blotched with inky liquid, and it looked like Neville had crossed out large portions of text that he started and stopped to write multiple times. Eventually he moved on to write a new paragraph, and Harry read on:

Point is, I don't have a family. I lost mine ages ago, and I've never known what it's like to have one. And that's okay. Mine is waiting for me on the other side. I've realized that this is what's best for everyone. You all have your families who would miss you if something were to happen to you. Nobody will miss me, and I've made peace with that. I'm tired of being a burden for everyone else to deal with.

So I'm leaving tonight and going to find Voldemort to turn myself in. The prophecy says that 'one must die at the hands of the other,' so I'm not going to try any more Hallows nonsense to avoid my fate. He will kill me, and then that will be that. You won't have my blood on your hands. I won't be a burden anymore. The horcrux will be gone, and the path will be clear for you lot to finish him off once and for all.

Now don't get all mopey and depressed on me like I know the others will. I'm returning the Stone to you, along with the Cloak I should have returned a long time ago. You're the one that's supposed to have them, I just know it. So take them, and put them to full use like I couldn't. Master of Death or not, I know you have what it takes to kill that bastard. So don't let my death go to waste – avenge me when the time comes. And make it look bad-ass! I'll be watching from beyond, and I expect a good show.

Tell the others I'm sorry. I hope they'll forgive me someday. Just know that I am at peace, and I'm glad to be seeing my parents again on the other side. See you when you get here – just not too soon, you hear?

Thank you for everything, Harry. You truly are the best of all of us. Consider this my penance for failing to recognize that all these years.

Your sister star,

Neville

"Okay, stop! Everyone calm down – one at a time, please."

James and Lily stood in the mess hall of the warehouse, bewildered, as a small army of teenagers implored them to see reason. Dahlia, Ron, and Hermione were on the verge of hysteria, begging for them to take immediate action; Harry and Fleur attempted to calm them down, as Krum watched on with concern.

"Start over from the beginning," Lily sighed. "When did you see him last?"

"This morning," Hermione said shakily. "We left him at the safe house for the meeting, but when we came back, he had left."

"But where could he have gone?" asked James. "And why leave the Cloak behind?"

"Aren't you listening?" Dahlia demanded. "He's going to sacrifice himself, to be rid of the soul fragment!"

"Keep your voice down," Harry hissed, glancing around the room. Though the mess hall was sparsely populated, they were attracting significant attention; he hastily cast privacy wards around them to avoid being eavesdropped on.

"But why would Neville do that?" asked Lily. "Why not wait to talk to us first, to figure out a plan?"

"Perhaps he does not believe in any plan," Krum said gruffly. "Vhen a dog knows it is about to die, it goes off to be on its own. It is just the way of things sometimes."

"Neville is not a dog!" Dahlia protested. "He's a human being, one who's in a very vulnerable state of mind right now! And we have to stop him from making a foolish mistake!"

"Let's all take a deep breath here," James said placatingly. "Panicking will not solve the problem. We need to sit down and discuss this rationally."

"We don't have time for that," Hermione said in exasperation. "Dahlia's right – we need to go and rescue him before he does something stupid!"

"Yeah, we should send scouts to keep an eye on Death Eater safe houses, like Malfoy Manor!" Ron agreed fervently. "In case he shows up there, we can grab him before Voldemort does!"

"That is far too dangerous," James said, shaking his head. "I will not endanger any more of our people that way. Voldemort does not even know we still have people in Britain."

"B-but Voldemort will kill him!" Dahlia said tearfully. "We have to rescue him!"

"Sounds like he may not want to be rescued," James said grimly. "He would not want any of you getting caught trying to help him."

"With all due respect, sir, Neville's not in his right mind," said Ron. "We just...we just need to talk to him. To convince him to try again with the Hallows. He doesn't have to do this—"

"Alright, alright, just let me think for a moment," sighed James, rubbing his temple tiredly. "Maybe we can use this development to our advantage somehow."

"To our advantage?" Hermione repeated indignantly. "You would use Neville's life as a bargaining chip?"

"Use your brilliant mind for a moment, Miss Granger," James told her sternly. "We still have a war to win. I know you are worried about your friend, but we cannot sacrifice all our progress on one boy. Especially if he is doing this of his own accord."

Hermione still looked distraught, but Krum came forward to wrap her in a comforting hug. Lily did the same for Dahlia, and Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring look. Ron nodded forlornly...he was a strategist at heart, and he knew how crucial the next few moves of this proverbial chess game would be.

"Voldemort will want to advertise the fact that Neville is dead," said James. "He wouldn't keep it a secret. So we'll know when it happens."

"He won't kill him," Harry spoke up. "Not right away, anyway."

"What makes you say that, dear?" Lily frowned.

"Like Dad said, he'll want to advertise his death for the world to see," said Harry. "Voldemort is a proud man...he'll want to prove to everyone that he's the better wizard, that Neville is not the hero everyone thinks he is. If I know him at all, he'll stage Neville's death publicly, for all to witness."

"What would the point of that be?" Ron asked.

"It would accomplish two things," said Harry. "One, it would be a show of strength to kill the morale of anyone still resisting his takeover. And two, he would be able to come out of the shadows and take direct control of the country at last. This is what he's been waiting for all along: Neville was the last remaining wild card that scared him, and after he's gone, he'll feel emboldened to rule Britain as a dictator, like he always dreamed."

That left a sobering silence in the room. Then Dahlia piped up, "Well, what are we going to do about it?"

"First off, we need to move all available fighters into the country as soon as possible," said James, looking expectantly to Krum. "The fight is coming sooner than we expected, but we can use this to our advantage. If we know Neville and Voldemort are going to be in the same place in public soon, we can spring our trap and stage a last stand when Voldemort least expects it."

"I vill speak with Sebastian Delacour straight away," said Krum. And he turned to exit the mess hall at once.

"The rest of the resistance needs to be notified as well," said James, looking to Lily. "This could shift our timeline up significantly, and we need to be prepared."

"Let's find Sirius and Remus and start spreading the word," Lily agreed.

"What can we do?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Go find Cedric and let him know," said James. "His faction will be important when the battle comes, and we need him on our side."

Ron nodded and took off, Hermione close behind him. Harry moved to follow as well, but James called after him.

"Not you, Harry. We need to talk."

"What about?" Harry asked innocently.

"You and Dahlia are to return to Grimmauld Place immediately," said James sternly. "You will stay there until further notice."

"What? Why?" Harry demanded. "Why am I not allowed to help?"

"Because I know you," said James. "I know you care for Neville's well-being and will want to do something rash to save him. This is a direct order: do not go out looking for him. That goes for you too, Dahlia. You two stay together, and do not leave the ward boundary of the home. Is that understood?"

"But Dad, I can still be useful!" Harry protested. "Neville gave me the Cloak back...I can do a stealth mission, gather intel, get eyes on the enemy—"

"No!" James barked. "I know you want to fight, but now is not the time. I need you to watch over your sister while we put things into motion."

"You can't leave me in the dark like this!" Harry shouted. "It isn't fair!"

"We will summon you when it is time for the next strategy meeting," Lily promised. "We aren't leaving you in the dark...we just need to know that you are safe and out of the way for a little while."

"Keep an eye on them, will you, Miss Delacour?" asked James, turning to Fleur.

Fleur looked stricken by the request. "I...of course, Monsieur Potter," she said.

"Good," James nodded. "Now go. We'll be in touch soon." And he and Lily took off, in search of Sirius and Remus to begin spreading the word.

"Come," Fleur said gently to both Harry and Dahlia. "Let us return home." Both Potter siblings begrudgingly let Fleur slip her arms into theirs, and they Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

As soon as they alighted in the entryway, Dahlia turned to Harry. "Right, so what's the real plan?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Naturally you couldn't say with Mum and Dad around," said Dahlia. "And I know you have something up your sleeve, like you always do. How are we going to find Neville?"

"Er…" Harry said hesitantly. "I'm not sure there is a plan."

"But there has to be!" Dahlia insisted. "We're not going to let Neville die, right? There's still time to find him...to give him the Hallows back...to make him see reason!"

"Dahlia...Neville made this choice of his own free will," Harry said gently. "Even if we knew where he was, he wouldn't want us to risk our lives going after him."

"But he's not thinking straight!" Dahlia protested, desperate tears welling up in her eyes. "He...he doesn't know what he's saying! We have to save him from himself, before it's too late!"

"Now is not the right time," said Harry. "The odds are stacked against us right now. There's a good chance Voldemort makes a mistake, and provides us an opportunity to go after him when we have more of a chance. But right now, it's too risky."

Dahlia looked heartbroken by Harry's words. He saw the fire extinguish in her eyes, her last fleeting hope that Harry had a plan dying in cruel fashion. It made his stomach twist unpleasantly to see her in such despair.

"I hate you!" Dahlia shrieked. She stalked up the steps to her bedroom, slamming it shut behind her.

"Do not take her words too seriously," said Fleur gently. "She is simply upset and did not mean it."

"I know," Harry said glumly. He could sympathize with his sister's frustration, of course – she felt hopeless and fearful for Neville's life. He did, too. But he also knew he had to think logically about the situation. His father was right: going out looking for Neville would only do more harm than good. There were simply too many places he could be, and too many chances that Harry tripped some alarm that told Voldemort the Potters were still in Britain. He could not jeopardize the entire war effort to try and save one boy.

About an hour passed before Dahlia had calmed down enough to apologize and rejoin Harry and Fleur in the library. They sat in a circle around the fireplace, quietly discussing theories of where Neville might be at that very moment. It was maddening, not knowing if he was safe or even still alive, but Harry supposed no news was good news, at least for now.

Harry idly fidgeted with the three Hallows as they sat and talked. He twiddled the Elder Wand in his right palm and the Resurrection Stone in his left, with the Invisibility Cloak folded in his lap. Fleur noticed and decided to comment on it.

"I suppose this makes you 'Master of Death' now," she said. "'Ow do you feel?"

"No different, really," Harry muttered. He could still feel the Wand whispering in his mind, and the cold magic of the Stone and Cloak blended seamlessly with it, permeating him and paradoxically warming him. But he did not feel any less human and mortal...his heart still beat steadily in his chest, his blood still running through his veins, those crucial bodily functions keeping him alive, threatening to end his life if their rhythms ceased.

"But you think they could still be used to save Neville's life?" Dahlia asked nervously. "I mean, you and Neville both came back from the dead before, didn't you?"

"That was different," said Harry. "Neville was protected by his mother and didn't actually die. And I did die, in my original lifetime...I wasn't able to go back to my old life."

"But it's worth a shot, isn't it?" Dahlia insisted. "I mean, if he's going to die anyway, couldn't you try again with the Hallows?"

"Maybe," Harry sighed. "It might be too late now. Neville's likely in Voldemort's clutches by now, and it will be difficult to get close to him without setting off any alarms."

"So what are you going to do?" Dahlia asked. "I know you well enough – you're not just going to sit back and let things play out the way You-Know-Who wants."

"I don't know," Harry muttered. "I'll have to get close to Voldemort either way, in order to kill him. Maybe if we play our cards right, I can transfer the Hallows back to Neville and try the Killing Curse again."

"All under Voldemort's nose?" Fleur frowned. "'Ow are you going to pull that off?"

"No clue," Harry sighed. "Maybe it's a pipe dream. Maybe Neville wouldn't even want me to try. But I have to hold out hope he can still be saved, don't I?"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence at these words. Dahlia clearly clung to that same hope...Harry knew she was just as invested in Neville's survival as her brother was, if not moreso.

"Just promise me one thing, Harry," Dahlia said quietly. "If you get the chance...I mean, if Neville CAN be saved without risking your own life...just try, will you?"

Harry saw the fear and worry etched in his sister's face. He knew it was not easy for her to ask such a thing...losing Harry would be equally as devastating to her as losing Neville. She must truly be desperate to hold on to the boy she loved.

"I'll do everything I can for him," he promised. Dahlia relaxed visibly at this, nodding forlornly, even if they both knew it would be a tall order.

James and Lily did not return as the sun set, so the group shared a solemn meal in the kitchen together before retiring to bed. Harry had barely slept the night before, and he had a feeling he was in for another restless night. Too many things were rattling around in his brain – too many worries and concerns for the immediate future. About Neville. About his family. About the future of the wizarding world.

"I must also ask you to promise me something," Fleur spoke through the darkness as they lay in bed together. "Do not lay your life down for Neville. We cannot lose you."

"It wasn't my intention," Harry chuckled. "You can't be rid of me that easily, Miss Delacour."

"I'm serious," said Fleur sharply. "Do not joke about this...a lot of people are counting on you now. You're one of ze few people who can kill Voldemort. If you die trying to save that boy, thousands if not millions will suffer."

"I know," Harry muttered. "I may not even get the chance, if we're being honest. Voldemort may be arrogant, but he's not stupid, and he won't risk letting Neville slip through his fingers again."

"In which case you mustn't engage," Fleur insisted. "I know you 'ave a tendency to want to save everyone, but Neville made 'is choice. Do not squander his sacrifice."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. He knew that Fleur was right, that it was a fool's errand to try and save Neville at this point. Even if he succeeded without drawing the wrath of Voldemort, he would just have to kill the boy himself and cross his fingers that the Deathly Hallows could bring him back. And all of that assumed that Neville wanted to live in the first place! The logical move would be to simply let Voldemort kill him and be done with the horcrux for good, but the idea still caused Harry immense pain and heartbreak for the boy.

He opened his mouth to respond, but abruptly paused in confusion. The room had suddenly lit up, as though a light switch had turned on. Harry instinctively drew his wand, sensing danger, but lowered it when he saw the source of the light: a silver Patronus, soaring through the window and flying towards them. It alighted on one of the bedposts, allowing Harry and Fleur to recognize its form at last: a bat.

"We must speak urgently," the silver bat spoke in Severus Snape's voice. And the Patronus took flight again, flapping its way back through the window and out of sight.

Harry immediately sprang to his feet in alarm, with Fleur not far behind him. "You mustn't go," Fleur said at once. "Eet could be a trap."

"Maybe," Harry muttered. He rummaged through his bedside drawer and procured one of the few objects he'd retained from his Hogwarts belongings: the Marauder's Map. He tapped his wand to it and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The Map came to life, displaying a live map of the Hogwarts grounds. Harry scanned its contents for any sign of trouble...the students were asleep in their dorms, while a handful of prefects patrolled the halls. There was no sign of Voldemort – or Neville, for that matter – and up in the Headmaster's Office sat Severus Snape, unmoving. Alone.

"I don't like it," Fleur muttered. "'E is still a Death Eater, and no longer has to win your mother's favor."

"He's alone," Harry pointed out. "I can take him if I need to."

"And what if 'e is preparing to summon his master the moment you show up?" Fleur demanded.

"I don't think so," Harry muttered. "It would be too obvious of a trap. Besides, I think I can trust him."

"Why?"

"He's helped me this far," Harry shrugged. "What if he has intel about Neville? What if he still seeks Voldemort's destruction?"

"It's too risky," Fleur said adamantly. "I do not think you should go."

"Take this," Harry said, thrusting the Map into her hands. "If I'm gone longer than thirty minutes, or you see Snape take me anywhere outside his office, sound the alarm."

Fleur saw that Harry would not be deterred in his decision, and sighed heavily. "Fine," she groaned. "But if you are not back in 'alf an hour, I am coming to rescue you."

"Wouldn't expect anything less," Harry grinned, planting a grateful kiss on her pouting lips. He threw on a traveling cloak, then draped the Invisibility Cloak over it before turning on the spot and Apparating away to Hogwarts.

Harry had missed the comfort and security the Cloak brought him. He felt like a ghost, slipping unseen out of the alcove and striding down the corridor to Snape's office. He did not even bother providing the password to the gargoyle, slipping unnoticed behind it and ascending the spiral staircase. He paused at the door, listening for any sound of disturbance. He heard none, but he was not going to take any chances.

With a flick of his wand, the office door burst open; in one fluid motion, Harry stepped inside and fired at the desk. Heavy ropes sprang from his wand, wrapping themselves around the Headmaster and pinning him down to his chair. Snape appeared unmoved, staring impassively at the opened door as though nothing had happened at all.

"So, you finally decided to join me," he sneered.

Harry removed his Invisibility Cloak and closed the door behind him. "Afraid I'm not taking any chances," he said, before taking the seat opposite Snape's.

"A wise decision," Snape said curtly. "Perhaps you are smarter than I gave you credit for, Potter."

"You always knew how to flatter me," Harry deadpanned. "Now, what do you want?"

Snape surveyed Harry for a moment. "I take it your mother found her way back to your family safely?" he asked.

"She did," Harry nodded.

"And you did not leave the country," Snape continued. It was a statement of fact, not a question.

"I cannot confirm nor deny the whereabouts of my family," said Harry cautiously.

"I know your father well enough to know he could never back down from a fight," Snape scoffed. "He's here, somewhere in Britain, and he's plotting something."

"If you think I'm going to tell you everything my family has been up to over the past month, you're sorely mistaken," said Harry.

"I am under no such illusions," Snape replied. "That is not the purpose of your summons. I have information that might be of interest to you."

"What kind of information?" Harry asked.

"Approximately two hours ago, I received a visit from the Dark Lord," said Snape. "He informed me that he had captured Neville Longbottom, and intends to publicly execute him tomorrow evening."

Harry's blood chilled at this news. "Tomorrow?" he repeated. "Why not tonight?"

"The Dark Lord is aware of the rebellion still brewing in Britain," said Snape. "He seeks to make a public example of Longbottom, to show what becomes of trouble-makers. He will be inviting members of the press and making a show of force to announce his ascendancy to power."

It was just as Harry feared. Neville was the one thing preventing Voldemort from coming out into the open, and with the Boy Who Lived out of the way, he would be emboldened to terrorize the country openly, rather than through his puppets. The only good news was that Neville was still alive, but that clearly would not remain true for long.

"Where is this execution taking place?" Harry asked. "The Ministry, I assume?"

"No," said Snape. "It will be done here, on Hogwarts grounds."

"Why here?" Harry frowned.

"The student body has been rather...unruly since your departure last month," Snape muttered, looking sour about this fact. "The children are in open rebellion against the staff, refusing to attend classes or obey orders. Even the Carrows have been unable to contain them...Alecto wound up in the Hospital Wing last week after mysteriously being pushed down three flights of stairs."

Harry felt a gleam of pride for his fellow students fighting back against the evil plaguing their school. But then he remembered the dire consequences such actions could carry, and fear returned to replace the brief feeling of satisfaction.

"Is Voldemort going to punish them?" Harry asked.

"Not directly," said Snape. "He is going to send a message, by forcing them to watch their hero die."

Now Harry understood. Voldemort could not harm the students of Hogwarts directly...their blood was too valuable for the nation's future, nor could he risk angering their parents. He instead planned to rule them by fear and take away their last glimmer of hope for a victory. Such an act would deliver a devastating blow to students' morale.

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Harry.

Snape studied Harry carefully. "Knowing your father as I do, he will be seeking an opportunity to engage the Dark Lord in combat," he said. "Perhaps he has even managed to raise an army of his own. After tomorrow night, there may never be another moment in which the Dark Lord is vulnerable. He will begin to recruit supporters from the continent and beyond, the seeds for which have already been planted by his followers, and his takeover of the globe will soon become inevitable."

"So you want me to encourage my father to lead an attack against Voldemort here, at Hogwarts," Harry surmised.

"I am suggesting no such thing," Snape sneered. "I just presumed that this information would be of interest to you."

"Don't play coy with me now, Severus," Harry huffed. "You know my father tends to act first and ask questions later. And you know I have a personal stake in protecting Neville. You wouldn't be sharing this with me if you didn't seek a particular outcome, and wanted to goad me into action. So, what's in it for you?"

Snape merely smiled at Harry's deduction. "I am an opportunist, Potter," he said. "And an opportunity has presented itself to me. Perhaps I'm tired of playing the double agent. Perhaps one final, decisive battle is in my best interests. One side or the other will prevail, and I'll be able to escape this unenviable position I've found myself in."

Harry considered this. Snape had not lured Harry into a trap, that much was true. But part of him still felt that Snape was being dishonest somehow. Why would he invite a bloody war right to his own doorstep? Why risk letting the entire war come down to a single display of might, rather than continue the subterfuge that had largely been successful thus far?

"What about the students?" Harry asked. "You would have the bloodiest war in Britain's history break out while they are caught in the cross-fire?"

"I trust that you and your father will come up with a solution to keep them safe," Snape said simply. "I no longer have much say in what transpires within these castle walls. Consider this my last attempt at relevancy, before it is wrenched from me permanently."

So maybe that's why he's doing this, Harry thought. Snape was afraid that he would be punished for his failures to keep Hogwarts in line. Perhaps Voldemort would no longer see any utility in Snape and dispose of him permanently. Was that what had prompted Snape's summons tonight? Primal, basic fear for his life?

"Give me access to the school wards, then," said Harry. "That way I'll know you're telling the truth."

"Don't make me laugh, Potter," Snape scoffed. "As if I'd entrust the defenses of the world's most prestigious wizarding school to a teenage boy."

"You basically are already," Harry pointed out. "You expect me to come up with a plan to protect the students and catch Voldemort by surprise, all in less than twenty-four hours? With one hand tied behind my back? Besides, how can I know I wouldn't be leading my people into a trap?"

"What do you intend to do with the wards?" Snape demanded. "If you plan on removing the anti-transportation wards around the grounds, you could unleash chaos and invite Merlin-knows-what evil to the school grounds."

"I'll keep that information to myself, thanks," said Harry. "If you really care about giving my side the upper hand, you'll let us use the location to our advantage. If we know how the wards work and Voldemort doesn't, it might level the playing field."

"As always, you demand information while giving none in return," Snape snarled. "I am the Headmaster of this castle, and I will not endanger her fate by placing it in the hands of an impulsive seventeen-year-old."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss," said Harry, standing from his seat. "Enjoy the festivities tomorrow, Severus. I'll see you on the battlefield at some future date, when the odds are more favorable for my side...assuming you're still alive by then."

Harry strode across the office towards the door. He opened it and made it two steps down the spiral staircase before a frustrated Snape called after him.

"Carpe lilium," said Snape.

"Come again?" said Harry, turning to re-enter the office.

"That is the password," Snape sighed. "To unlock the school ward stones. I take it you already know where they are located."

"I do," Harry nodded. "And I appreciate your trust."

"You'd better," Snape sneered. "Now, remove me from my bindings."

Harry did so, waving his wand to remove the heavy ropes from around the man's torso. Snape reached for his left sleeve, and for a moment of terror Harry thought he was about to roll it up and summon Voldemort via the Dark Mark; instead, he merely adjusted his cloak, smoothing out the wrinkles, as though recovering from a grave indignity.

"Choose your next actions wisely, Mr. Potter," said Snape. "The castle grounds will be swarming with Dark witches and wizards within hours...I suggest you don't linger here long enough for them to find you."

"As if I'd let them," Harry grinned. And he pulled the Invisibility Cloak over himself, turning his back on an astonished Snape and sweeping from the office.

This was a development that could decide the entire outcome of the war in a single battle. Harry now knew where Voldemort (and Neville) would be in less than a day's time, and had the means to sculpt the battlefield in his favor. He needed to return home quickly and share what he'd learned with the others, so that they could craft a plan for battle.

He still wasn't sure if he entirely believed Snape's motives or not. All this time he'd seemed to be driven by his affections for Lily, but Harry could not see how this aided his quest to win her back. After all, if this plan were to take fruit, Lily herself would be on the front lines in a matter of hours, at risk of being killed. The man remained an enigma to Harry, and he could not be certain what his true plans were.

But there was no time to question the source of his kindness. Snape's motives didn't truly matter anymore...all that mattered was that Harry used this development to his advantage. With luck, they might be able to win the war in a single fell swoop.

And maybe save Neville in the process.