Miranda and Harry race through Hogwarts, searching for Ron and Hermione, hands still clasped. Neither of them are going to let go. If she could, Miranda would never let go of Harry's hand again. Hopefully, she won't have to.

"They're probably in the Chamber," Harry fills her in hurriedly, darting into the second floor girl's lavatory and standing before the ceramic sink. Miranda nearly smiles, he needn't worry about catching her up.

"For the Basilisk fangs?" inquires Miranda, already knowing the answer. "You need them to destroy the Horcrux."

"Well— yes..." frowns Harry, suspicious and slightly shell shocked. "But how did you know all that?"

Miranda shoots him a cheeky smirk, "I know a lot more than you think Potter."

Harry simply kisses her, fingertips feathering along her ribcage. Miranda has no idea how she managed without him for so long. The thought of losing him again was too much to bear. "When we get out of here you have to tell me how you did that." He kisses her again, and Miranda's stomach drops violently at his use of the word when. She really does know more that he can ever imagine.

Being near him again only intensifies her raging emotions, every facet of their relationship bubbling to the surface. Each kiss they share as the fumble blindly through the darkness, each sideways glance and grin he throws her way— it feels like the last. Like the little moments are slipping away faster and faster  before she has a chance to capture them.

Harry opens the passage to the Chamber using his Parseltongue abilities. Miranda watches in pure awe, "Is it concerning that I find that hot?"

Harry grins, his mouth closing over hers sweetly, "Not at all."

They splash through puddles, hems of their pants growing damp until they finally reach the end, coming upon the huge stone carving of Salazar Slytherin, the basilisks dead corpse lying right where it had been since second year. Ron and Hermione are consumed in a passionate lip lock, the fangs on the floor as if they had collided into each other with such force that everything else in the vicinity flew away. Miranda and Harry are both sporting wide smiles as the watch their two best friends finally, and aggressively make out.

"Finally," sighs Miranda happily.

"I know right," Harry slides a secure arm around her waist, the two of them patiently waiting for the kiss to end.

It doesn't.

Harry is eventually forced to interrupt. "Ron! Hermione!" he attempts to get their attention to no avail, but they do not break apart. Don't even flinch.

Miranda gives it a go, waving her arms, "Weasley, hello! Weasley! Hermione, over here!" Nothing. Not one sign that Ron or Hermione have registered their presence. It's like Miranda and Harry aren't even there.

"OI THERE'S A WAR GOING ON!!!" Harry bellows loudly, his voice echoing throughout the high ceilings.

Finally, Ron and Hermione step away from each other, both extremely red in the face. Miranda laughs aloud, "I thought it would never end, c'mon guys get your priorities straight." She teases, Ron and Hermione picking up their belongings and walking towards them.

Ron's face is still flaming with evident embarrassment, and perhaps a little pride. "Whatever McGonagall," he scoffs. "Don't act like you and Harry weren't just snogging your bloody arses off right before this."

Miranda kicks him sharply in the shin, while Harry shrugs with a smug expression, "Maybe we were, maybe we weren't."

"Please," Ron rolls his eyes, "you've got your snogging face on, mate."

"My what?" Harry asks indignantly as Miranda runs to greet Hermione, legs carrying her as fast as she can go to reunite with her best friend.

"Miranda!" Hermione cries, each girl flinging her arms around the other. Miranda buries her nose in Hermione's shoulder, eyes stinging with tears as she squeezes her as tight as she can manage. "I missed you so much," whispers Hermione wetly.

"I missed you so much,"echoes Miranda emphatically, clutching the girl's hands in her own. She is beside herself. "I'm so sorry," she apologizes. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. That I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't—"

"I know," sniffs Hermione, pressing her forehead to Miranda's. Her face is streaked with blood and grime, tear tracks running through the dirt on her cheeks. "I was so worried about you. I was so— I thought— not knowing if you were— it was awful, Miranda. Awful." She shakes her head, "Of course Harry was distraught, of course he— but we lost you too. I—" Hermione breaks off, shuddering, "You're my best friend in the whole world. I can't—"

"I love you, Hermione Granger," says Miranda, fiercely. "So much. Without you— you're my sister. I—"

Hermione hugs her again, her voice thick, "You left me alone with those— boys!"

"I know," Miranda chokes out a strangled laugh, cupping Hermione's face. "I'm so sorry."

"They're really stupid sometimes."

"Most times."

"I love them."

"Me too."

A terrible cracking noise shoots through the school. The four friends turn to each other in fear, "The barrier's been broken."

Ron blanches, "That means—"

"We're in trouble," Miranda finishes, snapping into decision mode. "Okay, the three of you need to get the diadem and destroy it. I'll go get Matt and we'll find the snake." She extends her hand, "Give me the sword."

"I'm not leaving you," Harry refuses to let go of her hand. "I just got you back." He holds his ground adamantly and Miranda swallows her tears to the best of her abilities. She hates this. So much. Part of her wants to grab Harry's hand and run as far away from here as she can, go hide one some far off island together. Away from all of this. Just to be together without the weight of the world on they shoulders. Another part of her wishes she'd never taken his hand in the first place, four years ago nearly in this exact spot.

She knows, deep down however, that neither part will win out. Harry knows too. He must. It's one of the reasons they fit together so well.

"Harry—" There is so much left to say. So much she cannot say.

Harry shuts his eyes, "I love you."

"Don't—" It feels too final. All of it. The whole situation. The look in his eyes, the intonation of his voice, his expression. "I can't—" her  bottom lip trembles, and he presses his lips to hers, firm and unyielding.

"I love you."

Miranda can't bear to stand here a second longer, if she does— she might forget to leave. She dashes in the opposite direction without looking back. Spells fly around her, teachers and students dueling Death Eaters, but where is her goddamn brother? Ginny spots her from afar, rushing over.

"Do you know where Matt is?" They demand frantically at the exact same time, worry etched upon their features.

Miranda's mind goes immediately to the horrible things, her palms sweating. She takes a deep breath, stilling her shaking hands, "I'm sure he's okay. I'm going to go find him, be careful Gin." A Death Eater attempts to curse them, but the two girls fire back with Bat Bogey Hex, courtesy of Ginny, and a rather robust stunning spell. Miranda again leaves her friend, swerving past the other fighters, glad to see Evelyn and Sirius still in the mix. She stumbles and looks down at the ground, a sour feeling settling in her stomach. It's Frederick. A tear trickles down her face, hoping he's happy wherever he is and reunited with Cedric. Neville and Oliver Wood walk by, carrying two bodies, and Miranda wants to throw up. Michael Corner and Colin Creevey, so young, taken too soon. Now she's really and truly scared for her brother.

"Nev, have you seen Matt?"

Neville looks grim, "I'm sorry."

"Wood?"

"No—" Oliver winces, " but I'm sure he's—" Miranda is already gone, frantically traversing the grounds as she ventures outside.

Matt?

Mateo where are you?

Fucking hell, Matt don't do this to me.

Let me know you're okay.

I need to know you're okay.

Please, Matt. Please.

A groan of pain distracts Miranda from her panicking as she rotates around, looking for the source. She tracks the sound to Professor Sprout's abandoned backup greenhouse, the one she used when her plants needed more space. The windows have been shattered and she spots a spatter of blood on one of the remaining panes. Quickly, she goes inside, the groans getting louder and louder as she gets nearer. She grips her wand so tight her knuckles turn white, and she is terrified of who might be the person in trouble. Is it someone she knows? Someone she loves?

Miranda's footsteps halt abruptly, her jaw falling open in horror, "No!" Miranda shrieks and collapses at the victim's side. No, no, no— this isn't happening. This can't be real. They're only children. This shouldn't be how their lives are. All Miranda wants to do is wake up, wake up from this horrible nightmare. She doesn't want to have to worry about whether she'll live to see tomorrow anymore, wonder how many of her loved ones will die before it's enough, before the universe stops punishing her. It's all too much, too much. She had to grow up so fast.

It's not fair. Not fair. All of the things overwhelm in her in one swell of grief. Knocking her over like a tidal wave. She's being dragged to the bottom of the sand over and over again. There is no escape. No escape.

Miranda sobs, clutching her oldest friend's hand as he struggles to live, "Draco, I'm here. I'm here, D."

Draco's face is ashen, and he's bleeding from so many places, Miranda doesn't know where to start. She tears off her cloak and places it on his abdomen, pushing his blond hair off of his face softly. "You're gonna be just fine. Just fine. Okay? Wh—who did this to you?"

Draco attempts to talk, voice hoarse with pain. His face is screwed up  in obvious torture. "Why— why are you helping me?"

"What are you talking about?" Miranda grabs his hands, gathering them next to her heart. "You're my best friend."

"I—I was h—horrible to you. I was bad for you. I—"

"No—you weren't," Miranda disagrees vehemently, eyes flooded with tears. "You tried to help me. You didn't have a choice. You—"

"But—"

"No," Miranda cuts him off sternly, focusing on the task in front of her.  Blood runs rivers down her arm, red handprints everywhere. "You were my best friend. You knew everything about me. We share something that I'll never have with anyone else, D. I can't— you have to stay alive. Hear me?" Her voice breaks and Draco smiles softly. He grimaces, trying to raise his head, taking her face in his hands. "Don't try to move, Draco," Miranda cautions, "I'll—" Her warning is lost as Draco shakily presses his lips to hers.

There is a moment of heavy silence, Draco's head flopping back down to the ground, his breathing ragged. He touches a thumb to her mouth, "I've- always wanted to— to do that. Just—just to know what it would be like." He coughs and blood rains down. "I— I always l—loved you, you know. You were the one who made me—he coughs again—believe that I was even capable of love. You— you always saw the best in me. E—even when I was at my— my worst." The rise and fall of the boy's chest starts to become more uneven, his eyelids fluttering. "Make sure— make sure— that you visit my mother very now and then. Make sure she's okay? She'll— she'll get lonely."

"Stop it, D. You're not dying." Miranda refuses to accept this. She won't accept this. He's going to live. He has to live. She can save him. She has to—

"Tell her— tell her I love her, and that I'm— I'm sorry." Draco fumbles for his wand, straining as the blood continues to gush.

"You tell her yourself, Draco. Tell her yourself." Miranda's cloak is completely soaked through with his blood now, the red liquid spilling over on the greenhouse floor.

He puts the tip of his wand to his head and draws out a silvery line of fluid, placing it in a small vial he had stashed in his pocket. "Here," he says, placing it in her hand, "my thoughts. I want you to have them. They're mostly about you anyways. Promise me you'll—" He convulses, trying to catch a breath, forcing air into his lungs.

"Look at me, Draco. Look at me," Miranda sobs brokenly. She is begging, begging for a miracle. "Don't do this. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Everyone leaves— I'm not ready to say goodbye."

Draco cups her chin with his hand, looking directly into her eyes, "I love you Miranda McGonagall."

"I love you too, Draco. I love you too." The boy's eyes flutter shut for the final time, his body going limp in Miranda's arms, his palm falling from her face as he takes his last breath.

"Everyone leaves," murmurs Miranda listlessly. She feels like she's being pummeled with a hammer over and over again, keeling over in pure agony on Draco's lifeless form. Tears streaming, she lays her head on top of Draco's body. His heart's not beating, and she wants to die. It wasn't time. It wasn't his time. She wasn't ready. No one ever asked her if she was ready.

With trembling hands she takes the vial of Draco's memories and dives right in, the world starting to dematerialize around her, grey shapes forming a new scene right before her eyes.

Certain scenes flash before Miranda. Her running to embrace him at the train station, falling asleep on his shoulder. Miranda laughing at something he said, his face when she was placed in Gryffindor and became friends with Harry. Miranda in her dress at the Yule Ball, dancing together. Their first argument, a worried Draco looking for her at the second challenge. The regret he felt when he hurt her. The anger he felt when he saw her and Harry together. Him getting the Dark Mark, and the anxiety of sixth year. Then she is plunged into another clearer memory.

"There was a complication?" Voldemort raises an eyebrow icily, staring down a frightened Draco.

"It won't happen again my Lord," Draco bows deeply.

"You're right. It won't," he sneers. "Because you're going to kill her."

Draco inhales sharply, "Her?"

"I needed to get rid of her anyways. Love makes you weak, Draco." His eyes flash with anger. "Either you die, or she does. Do you understand?" Draco gulps and nods. Draco paces in Snape's office, tearing out his hair in frustration.

"I can't do it Severus.  I won't do it."

"Then don't."

The memories flash faster and faster and faster. Miranda is nearly winded, completely overwhelmed at everything being thrown at her.

Voldemort is back, eyes black and cold. A shover runs down Miranda's spine. "You have betrayed me Draco. I gave you a task and you have not followed through." Draco cowers under his gaze.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to, my lord."

"The rules were very clear. You or her." He motions for Nagini and Draco backs up in fear, whimpering.

"Please, my lord. This is not— surely we can—"

Voldemort views him with cool disdain and utter unforgiving, "I warned you, Draco. Love makes you weak."

"No, it doesn't!" Draco shouts in one last act of defiance, "She makes me strong. If the love is real, love is the strongest thing in the—"  Nagini pounces.

Miranda wrenches herself out of the memories before she can see what's about to happen. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she covers Draco's body with her cloak, rising determinedly. There is no fucking way she's going to let Voldemort win this one.

Miranda charges out of the greenhouse, head held high. She will not give in, she will not let him have what he wants. The walls of Hogwarts are crumbling around her, screams echoing, flashes of green light burning in her corneas. There is a fire raging in a portion of the corridor, filling her nostrils with the acrid scent of smoke and death. Bodies are laid out in what was once the Great Hall. Bodies, so many bodies.

She sees her aunt and Sirius, hunched over two figures, and tears sting her eyes. Sirius looks destroyed, heartbreak behind every bone in his body. Not Remus and Tonks. They had just been alive, here; laughing and joking. They had a baby—they were happy, they were— gone.

Cho Chang, an unrecognizable Weasley, Hannah Abbott, Padma Patil, and so many more. All gone. With each step Miranda takes she sees another person she's lost, and her fear for her brother grows. She starts running through the halls, flinging spells when she has to. Goddamn it, where was he? She bursts out into the open, where several Death Eaters are dueling, spinning in a panicked circle, looking wildly for her twin. She can't hear his thoughts. Usually she can hear his thoughts but she can't right now.

Matt!

WHERE ARE YOU?

LET ME KNOW YOU'RE OKAY!

CAN YOU HEAR ME?

Matt PLEASE!

DON'T YOU DARE DO THIS TO ME YOU—

I'm here

Miranda runs to her brother and begins pummeling him, "Mateo EZEKIEL MCGONAGALL DON'T YOU EVER SCARE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN!" Her frightened state had quickly turned to anger, Mateo hugging her until she stops hitting him.

Mateo swivels his head around nervously, "Ginny? Is Ginny alright? Where's—?"

"Right here," Ginny wraps her arms around him, tears in her eyes. Her body is shaking. "You scared the shit out of me, Mateo! Where—?"

Mateo drops a kiss to the girl's head, inhaling deeply. The relief on each of their faces is so raw, so plain, Miranda is forced to look away. "Longbottom and I killed the snake. I didn't want to leave you— I was so—" His words are lost to a kiss, and he buries his face into Ginny's neck.

"That's the last one! That means it's just him," exclaims Hermione, near giddy. Ron and her hold each other tightly as they limp over to meet them. Miranda has never missed Harry more in her life.

Her heart aches. She starts to hyperventilate, "Where's— Harry?"Hermione and Ron step back, confused, "Isn't he with you lot? He ran off after we got the diadem. I thought—"

Miranda and Mateo turn to each other in a horrible moment of realization.

"He must've figured it out," intones Mateo, and Miranda's entire body goes slack.

She feels faint and grips her hair, "But— how?"

"Miranda—" Mateo reaches out for her, such pity in his eyes that Miranda hates him. Hates him for it.

"No!" Miranda staggers backward, clutching her chest. The world spins.

"What?" Hermione looks utterly terrified.

"He— he— he—" Miranda blubbers incoherently, unable to string together a coherent sentence. She can't do this. She can't do this. This isn't happening. This is all an elaborate nightmare and any second now she will wake up and Harry will be smirking at her from a four poster bed and Draco will be alive and—

"He's going to sacrifice himself," says Mateo for her, solemn. "He's going to surrender." Miranda starts to sob silently, tears and blood and sweat and dirt all dripping down her chin. She can't remember a time where she cried so much. All she wants is to stop crying

"No," Hermione and Ron shake their head along with Ginny.

Ron is in the most denial of all. "No," he argues desperately. "Harry wouldn't—he wouldn't do that. Not after everything. He wouldn't just—"

"He would if he thought that's what would save the most people." Tears glisten like pearls in Hermione's eyes, threatening to spill over.

"But— but we're fighting for him," Ginny's voice breaks.

"He would," Mateo repeats Hermione's words, comforting Ginny. "Not just because that's the type of person he is, but because the only way Voldemort dies, is if Harry dies."

"What?!"

"He's a Horcrux." Hermione gasps in understanding.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger," Miranda whispers hoarsely as she bites her lower lip, drawing blood. She sucks in a ragged breath with effort.

"There has to be something we can do. We can get to him before he—we have to stop him." Ron paces in anguish, refusing to accept that he has lost his best friend. In the instant that Miranda locks eyes with him, she sees just how much Ron cares for Harry. "What are you all just standing there for?!" he yells. "What's the matter with you? We have to—"

"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" Voldemort's sinister declaration rings through the courtyard.

Miranda's heart just stops. She hears an agonizing scream and realizes that its coming from her own mouth, barely aware that Hermione and Mateo are holding her back from charging at Voldemort.

Fire licks her organs, and this pain is worse than anything she's ever felt ever. It is so acute, so powerful, so all consuming that her vision blurs. It nearly knocks her off her feet, physically debilitating.

The courtyard goes silent as the dark wizard approaches, all eyes on him. Hermione buries her head in Ron's shoulder and Ron puts one arm around her and the other around Miranda. Mateo does the same, holding his sister and his girlfriend close. It is as if someone has forcibly yanked her heart out of her ribcage and then chopped it up into a million tiny pieces.

Harry Potter is dead.

Harry Potter is dead.

Harry Potter is dead.

All Miranda can see is his body, lifeless and unmoving, Hagrid sobbing as he cradles the boy in his arms. She goes numb. Numb.

Voldemort continues, "The Boy Who Lived has died. Let that be a message to those of you who are thinking of siding against me." He sneers, "Join me now. Renounce the Chosen One. Don't make the same mistake he did. He died weak and afraid—"

Miranda's blood boils, anger rising. Slowly, it overrides the grief. She would not let him talk about Harry that way. Her Harry. "Lies!" She breaks out of the crowd, shaking off her friends' grips as she clenches her fists defiantly, staring at Voldemort with blazing eyes.

The snake man chuckles evilly, his beady eyes surveying her slowly and languidly, "Well, well, well, look who it is. Juniper's daughter."

"Get my mother's name out of your foul mouth, Tom," snarls Miranda, her face darkening.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Voldemort tuts, flipping his wand between his fingers, "and here I thought we could be friends. You do have Slytherin blood running though your veins after all, but you made the wrong decision, Miranda. You're going to lose."

He's wrong. He is so unequivocally wrong Miranda nearly laughs. "We'll never let you win," Miranda advances on him, wand raised. "And in the end, you will be the one to lose, because we have something you don't."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" Voldemort creeps toward her, black robes billowing about.

"Love," Miranda looks Voldemort dead in the eye. She's not afraid anymore. She won't waste any more time being afraid. Especially of him.

"Love makes you weak—"

"No!" Miranda begins to raise her voice as she rants unabashedly, her confidence heightening. "You are the weak one. Love is the strongest thing in the world, and you had love. My mother loved Tom Riddle, and he loved her back. But you were afraid, afraid of love, you had no idea what that meant did you? To love someone? And my mother could have taught you, but you couldn't have that could you? So you turned into a monster, hiding the fact that deep down, you are just a scared little boy, all alone with no one to love him."

Miranda's words are starting to antagonize Voldemort, his eyes narrowing as he fumes. Miranda just steamrolls right along, mounting pressure without any reservation. She is not holding back. Be strong. Be strong. Be strong, Miranda. "That's why you killed Draco right? Because even he had love and that scared you. That's why there will always be someone fighting back. You stand alone, but we stand together. I have love, so much love in my life, Tom." She inhales, feeling more resilient with every word she throws at him. "Today you killed the love of my life," she says, forcing herself to look at Harry's corpse. I love you, Miranda.  "But that doesn't mean that love is gone. It flows through me, it makes me more powerful than you'll ever be. So try all you want, but in the end, it's you who will fail."  She doesn't have to be strong anymore. She is strong. She has been all along.

Voldemort's nostrils flare menacingly, "What an adorable speech. Don't worry you'll be joining Mr. Potter very shortly. Have anything to say Harry?" Voldemort slinks over to Harry's body, poking a wand to his pale cheek as he flashes a sickening leer, turning to go,  "No? Pity. I guess I'll—"

In a flash, Harry leaps down from Hagrid's arms, "I think my girlfriend pretty much covered it." He winks at Miranda, raising his wand at the infuriated Voldemort, "Expelliarmus!"

"Avada Kedavra!" hisses the dark wizard.

The bolts of red and green light meet each other in the middle, Harry holding his ground ferociously. The green light starts to recede, waning further and further back. Voldemort's expression changes from fury to fear, the green light disappearing as the Elder Wand sails into Harry's hands. Voldemort crumbling to dust before their eyes. A hush falls over the crowd, and then a massive cheer erupts. People swarming in jubilation. Death Eaters disappearing instantly.

Miranda stares at Harry in shock, and Harry gazes right back at her, a brilliant smile breaking out over his face as she runs headfirst into his arms. He scoops her up and twirls her in the air, holding her close. He places her down on the cobblestones, rife with rubble and dust, clasping her hands gently he bends down on one knee.

"Marry me."

It's not a question, or a command, rather a statement, as if it's the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. And sometimes, love is. He holds out the beautiful ring that he's been carrying around in his pocket since sixth year, face open and earnest.

There is so much they have to say, so many things left unfinished. This is not over, not by a long shot. There is trauma, issues, death, grief. Miranda has never been so far away from her happily ever after. But— the one thing she knows above all else is that she wants to go through it with Harry. She knows it will be hard, and they will fight, and she'll cry, and— she wants to do it all with him.

And that's why the second the words left his lips Miranda knew her answer. She didn't have to think twice. "Yes," she breathes without an ounce of hesitation. Miranda yet again feels teardrops on her cheeks, but this time, they are tears of joy. And she takes his hand. She'll always take his hand. As long as she lives.