CHAPTER TWELVE:

Third Person Narrative:

Out of the tunnel, with his hair overgrown, his face cut, his robes ripped, clambered the real Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled:

"I knew you'd come! I knew it, Harry! I knew it!"

"Neville — what the — how — ?"

But Neville had also spotted Charlie, Hermione, and Ron, and with yells of surprise, he was hugging them too. The longer Charlie looked at Neville, the worse he appeared; one of his eyes was swollen yellow and purple, there were gouge marks on his face, and his general air of unkemptness suggested that he had been living rough.

And still, his battered visage shone with happiness as he let go of Hermione and said again, "I knew you'd come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!"

Hermione squeaked at the sight of him, "Neville, what's happened to you?"

"What? This?" Neville dismissed his injuries with a shake of the head. "This is nothing, Seamus is worse, but you'll have to see for yourselves. Shall we get going then? Oh," he turned to Aberforth, "Ab, there might be a couple more people on the way."

"Couple more?" repeated Aberforth ominously. "What d'you mean, a couple more, Longbottom? There's a curfew and a Camwaulding Charm on the whole village!"

"I know, that's why they'll be Apparating directly into the bar," smirked Neville. "Just send them down the passage when they get here, will you? Thanks a lot."

Neville held out his hand to Hermione and helped her to climb up onto the mantelpiece and into the tunnel; Ron and Harry followed quickly behind. Charlie, however, turned and addressed Aberforth.

"Thank you... for saving our lives," he whispered, flashing a small smile. "And I'm sorry for getting carried away earlier. It was uncalled for, especially since you're the only family I've got left —"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, nephew," said Aberforth gruffly, pointing in the direction where the others had disappeared. "They're your family now, too. So look after 'em, yeah? Because I might not be able to save 'em again."

With a small nod, Charlie clambered up onto the mantelpiece and through the hole behind Ariana's portrait. There were smooth stone steps on the other side: it looked as though the passageway had been there for years. Brass lamps hung from the walls and the earthy floor was worn and smooth; as they walked, their shadows rippled, fanlike, across the wall.

"How long's this been here?" Ron asked as they set off. "It isn't on the Marauder's Map, is it Harry? I thought there were only seven passages in and out of school?"

"They sealed off all of those before the start of the year," explained Neville. "There's no chance of getting through any of them now, not with curses over the entrances and Death Eaters and Dementors waiting at the exits." He started walking backward, beaming, drinking them in. "Never mind that stuff... is it true? Did you break into Gringotts? Did you escape on a dragon? It's everywhere, everyone's talking about it! Terry Boot got beaten up by Carrow for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner!"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, it's true."

Neville laughed gleefully.

"And what exactly did you do with the dragon?"

"Released it into the wild," said Ron, shrugging. "Although, Hermione was all for keeping it as a pet —"

"Don't exaggerate Ron," scolded Hermione. "They were torturing the poor thing, so of course I wanted to make sure it was all right!" she added, sparing a guilty look at her boyfriend for her poor choice of words; Charlie merely shuddered, his hands shaking.

Noting his friend's fallen face, Neville pressed swiftly onwards, "But what have you been doing? People have been saying you've just been on the run, Harry, but I don't think so. I think you've been up to something."

"You're right," replied Harry simply, "but tell us about Hogwarts, Neville, we haven't heard anything."

"It's been... well, it's not really like Hogwarts anymore," said Neville, the smile fading from his face as he spoke. "Do you know about the Carrows?"

"Those two Death Eaters who teach here?"

"They do more than teach," scoffed Neville. "They're in charge of all discipline. They like punishment, the Carrows."

Charlie cleared his throat, muttering, "Like Umbridge?"

"Nah, they make her look tame. The other teachers are all supposed to refer us to the Carrows if we do anything wrong. They don't, though, if they can avoid it. You can tell they hate them as much as we do. Amycus, the bloke, he teaches what used to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, except now it's just the Dark Arts. We're supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who've earned detentions —"

"What?"

Charlie, Harry, Ron, and Hermione's united voices echoed up and down the passage. Charlie could feel Hermione flinch beside him, her memory of the Cruciatus all too recent. He took her hand and she smiled at him gratefully.

"Yeah," said Neville, his sight traveling to Charlie and Hermione's joined hands, then quickly back to their faces. "That's how I got this one," he pointed at a particularly deep gash in his cheek, "I refused to do it. Some people are into it, though; Crabbe and Goyle love it. First time they've ever been top in anything, I expect."

"Alecto, Amycus's sister, teaches Muggle Studies, which is compulsory for everyone. We've all got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, and how they drive wizards into hiding by being vicious toward them, and how the natural order is being reestablished. I got this one," he indicated another slash to his face, "for asking her how much Muggle blood she and her brother have."

"Blimey, Neville," said Ron, shaking his head, "there's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth."

"You didn't see her," argued Neville justifiably. "You wouldn't have stood for it either. The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them, it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you guys did it."

"But they've used you as a knife sharpener," said Ron, wincing slightly as they passed a lamp and Neville's injuries were thrown into even greater relief.

"Doesn't matter," Neville shrugged. "They don't want to spill too much pure blood, so they'll torture if we're mouthy but they won't actually kill us."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Y-Yeah, I know how that m-must feel," stuttered Charlie, and he felt Hermione squeeze his hand tighter in response. "But it's worse, isn't it? The torture, I mean."

Sometimes death seems like an easier way out...

Frozen, Neville seemed to suddenly understand why Charlie looked as he did, all beaten and bruised. For this very reason, he winced, then said, "Sometimes, I guess. It depends, doesn't it?"

Charlie did not know what was worse, the things that Neville was saying, or the matter-of-fact tone in which he said them. Clearing his throat due to uncomfortable tension, Neville began leading the way forward once again.

"The only people in real danger are the ones whose friends and relatives on the outside are giving trouble," he continued. "They get taken hostage. Mr. Lovegood was getting a bit too outspoken in The Quibbler, so they dragged Luna off the train on the way back for Christmas."

Hermione smiled softly, whispering, "Neville, she's all right, we've seen her —"

"Yeah, I know, she managed to get a message to me."

From his pocket he pulled a golden coin, and Charlie recognized it as one of the fake Galleons that Dumbledore's Army had used to send one another messages.

"These have been great," said Neville, beaming at Hermione. "The Carrows never rumbled how we were communicating, it drove them mad. We used to sneak out at night and put graffiti on the walls: 'Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting,' and stuff like that. Snape didn't appreciate it much."

"You used to?" repeated Charlie, who had noticed the past tense.

"Well, it got more difficult as time went on," explained Neville, frowning. "We lost Luna at Christmas, and Ginny and Elaina never came back after Easter —"

"Elaina?" asked Harry, his ears perking up at the mention of his girlfriend. "Is she all right? What's happened to her?"

"She's safe, don't worry," said Neville reassuringly. "Like I said, her and Ginny went home together at Easter, and they've been checking in ever since. Anyways, the four of us were sort of the leaders. The Carrows seemed to know I was behind a lot of it, so they started coming down on me pretty hard. Then Michael Corner went and got caught releasing a first-year they'd chained up, and they tortured him pretty badly. That seemed to have scared people off."

"No kidding," muttered Ron, as the passage began to slope upward.

"Yeah, well, I couldn't ask people to go through what Michael did, so we dropped those kinds of stunts. But we were still fighting, doing underground stuff, right up until a couple of weeks ago. That's when they decided there was only one way to stop me, I suppose, so they went for Gran."

"They what?" gasped Hermione, clutching Charlie's arm.

"Yeah," said Neville, panting a little now, because the passage was climbing so steeply, "well, you can see their thinking. It had worked really well, kidnapping kids to force their relatives to behave. I s'pose it was only a matter of time before they did it the other way around. Thing was," he faced them, and Charlie was astonished to see that he was grinning, "they bit off a bit more than they could chew with Gran. Little old witch living alone, they probably thought they didn't need to send anyone particularly powerful. Anyway," Neville laughed, "Dawlish is still in St. Mungo's and Gran's on the run. She sent me a letter," he clapped a hand to the breast pocket of his robes, "telling me she was proud of me, that I'm my parent's son, and to keep it up."

"That's great, Nev," smiled Charlie, relieved.

"Yeah," said Neville happily. "Only thing was, once they realized they had no hold over me, they decided Hogwarts could do without me after all. I don't know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban; either way, I knew it was time to disappear."

"But," said Ron, looking thoroughly confused, "aren't — aren't we heading straight back for Hogwarts?"

"'Course," nodded Neville, "but you'll see. We're here."

They turned a sharp corner, then there, ahead of them, was the end of the passage. Another short flight of steps led to a door just like the one hidden behind Ariana's portrait. Neville pushed it open and climbed through. As Charlie followed, he heard Neville call out towards unseen people:

"Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?"

Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage first, and there were several screams and yells:

"It's Potter, it's POTTER!"

"Charlie!"

"Hermione!"

"Ron!"

Charlie had a confused impression of coloured hangings, of lamps and many faces. The next moment, he, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were engulfed, hugged, pounded on the back, their hair ruffled, their hands shaken, by what seemed to be more than twenty people; they might just have won a Quidditch final.

"Okay, okay, calm down!" Neville called, and as the crowd backed away, Charlie was able to take in their surroundings. He did not recognize the room at all.

It was enormous, and looked rather like the interior of a particularly sumptuous tree house, or perhaps a gigantic ship's cabin. Multicoloured hammocks were strung from the ceiling and from a balcony that ran around the dark wood-panelled and windowless walls, which were covered in bright tapestry hangings: Charlie saw a gold Gryffindor lion, emblazoned on scarlet; the black badger of Hufflepuff, set against yellow; the bronze eagle of Ravenclaw, on blue; and the silver serpent of Slytherin on a deep green canvas. There were bulging bookcases, a few broomsticks propped against the walls, and in the corner, a large wood-cased wireless.

"Where are we?"

"The Room of Requirement, of course!" beamed Neville. "Surpassed itself, hasn't it? The Carrows were chasing me, and I knew I had just one chance for a hideout; I managed to get through the door and this is what I found! Well, it wasn't exactly like this when I arrived, it was a lot smaller, there was only one hammock and just Gryffindor hangings. But it's expanded as more and more of the D.A. have arrived."

"And the Carrows can't get in?" asked Charlie, looking around for the door.

"No," said Seamus Finnigan, whose face was bruised and puffy. "It's a proper hideout, as long as one of us stays in here, they can't get at us, the door won't open. It's all down to Neville. He really gets this room. You've got to ask it for exactly what you need — like, 'I don't want any Carrow supporters to be able to get in' — and it'll do it for you! You've just got to make sure you close the loopholes! Neville's the man!"

"That's brilliant!" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes lost in the details of the room.

Neville smiled proudly, then said, "That means a lot coming from you, Hermione."

Charlie squeezed his girlfriend's hand at once, his lips curling upwards into a proud smile.

"But it's quite straightforward, really," Neville continued modestly. "I'd been in here about a day and a half, getting really hungry, and wished I could get something to eat, and that's when the passage to the Hog's Head opened up. I went through it and met Aberforth. He's been providing us with food, because for some reason, that's the one thing the room doesn't really do."

"Yeah, well, food's one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration," said Ron matter-of-factly; Charlie merely chuckled in response. Out of all the things that Hermione had explained to them over the years, he was consumed by the hilarity that this one particular fact had stuck so firmly with Ron.

"So we've been hiding out here for nearly two weeks," explained Seamus after a moment, "and it just makes more hammocks every time we need them, and it even sprouted a pretty good bathroom once girls started turning up —"

"— and thought they'd quite like to wash, yes," supplied Lavender Brown, whom Charlie had not noticed until that point. Now that he looked around properly, he recognized many familiar faces. Both Patil twins were there, as were Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, Anthony Goldstein, the Creevey brothers, and Michael Corner.

"Tell us what you've been up to, though," said Ernie eagerly. "There've been so many rumors, we've been trying to keep up with you on Potterwatch," he pointed at the wireless. "You didn't break into Gringotts?"

"They did!" exclaimed Neville. "And the dragon's true too!"

There was a smattering of applause and a few whoops; Ron took a bow, but Charlie was quick to nudge him on the shoulder, laughing hysterically.

"What were you after?" asked Seamus, his eyes wide.

Before any of them could parry the question with one of their own, Harry felt a terrible, scorching pain in his lightning scar. As his friend's body threatened to collapse, Charlie reached out and caught him in his arms, the feel of Hermione's hand in his fading from his consciousness. The room erupted into startled gasps, but Charlie, Hermione, and Ron merely shared a glance of understanding.

After a short while, Harry felt Charlie's hands on his shoulders and, with an enormous effort, he pulled out of Voldemort's mind again, back to where he stood, swaying, in the Room of Requirement, sweat pouring from his face.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Neville was saying. "Want to sit down? I expect you're tired, aren't — ?"

"No," said Harry, sharper than he meant to. He looked at Charlie, Ron and Hermione, trying to tell them without words that Voldemort had just discovered the loss of one of the other Horcruxes. Time was running out fast; if Voldemort chose to visit Hogwarts next, they would miss their chance. "We need to get going," he added quickly, and his friends' expressions told him that they understood.

"What are we going to do, then, Harry?" asked Seamus. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" repeated Harry, exercising all his willpower to prevent himself succumbing again to Voldemort's rage. "Well, there's something we — Charlie, Ron, Hermione, and I — need to do, and then we'll get out of here."

Nobody was laughing or whooping anymore. Neville looked confused.

"What d'you mean, 'get out of here'?"

"We haven't come back to stay," said Harry, rubbing his scar, trying to soothe the pain. "There's something important we need to do —"

"What is it?"

"I-I can't tell you."

There was a ripple of muttering at this; Neville's brows contracted.

"Why can't you tell us? It's something to do with fighting You-Know-Who, right?"

"Well, yeah —"

"Then we'll help you."

The other members of Dumbledore's Army were nodding, some enthusiastically, others solemnly. There were a few of them that rose from their chairs to demonstrate their willingness for immediate action.

"You don't understand." Harry seemed to have said that a lot in the last few hours. "We — we can't tell you. We've got to do it — alone."

"Why?" asked Neville.

"Because..."

In his desperation to start looking for the missing Horcrux, or at least to have a private discussion with Charlie, Ron, and Hermione about where they might commence their search, Harry found it difficult to gather his thoughts. His scar was still searing.

"Dumbledore left the four of us a job," he said carefully, "and we weren't supposed to tell — I mean, he wanted us to do it, just the four of us."

"We're his army," argued Neville. "Dumbledore's Army. We were all in it together, we've been keeping it going while you four have been off on your own —"

"It hasn't exactly been a picnic, mate," muttered Ron.

"I never said it had, but I don't see why you can't trust us," Neville sighed. "Everyone in this room's been fighting and they've come here because they knew you'd come to lead us in battle. Everyone in here's proven they're loyal to Dumbledore — loyal to you."

"Look," Charlie began, without knowing what he was going to say, but it did not matter. The tunnel door had just opened behind him.

"We got your message, Neville!" came the cheerful voice of Dean Thomas, who appeared alongside Luna Lovegood in the entranceway. Seamus gave a great roar of delight and ran to hug his boyfriend, placing a kiss on his cheek.

(A/N: #Deamus is canon in BWL idc)

"Hi, everyone!" beamed Luna, stepping through the crowd, and to everyone's surprise, she wrapped Neville in an intimate embrace. "It's so great to be back!"

"Err..." muttered Ron, confused, "did we miss something?"

"Looks like it," sniggered Charlie, glancing between the two happy couples. "It goes to show you how long we've been gone..."

"...or how long we've been oblivious," finished Harry, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Boys," said Hermione, shaking her head, as she moved forward to greet the newcomers. "Luna, hi! What are you doing here — ?"

"I sent for her," said Neville, sparring himself any further awkwardness and holding up the fake Galleon. "I promised her, Elaina, and Ginny that if you turned up I'd let them know. We all thought that if you came back, it would mean revolution. That we were going to overthrow Snape and the Carrows."

"Of course that's what it means," said Luna brightly to Neville, and then she looked to the others. "Isn't it? We're going to fight them out of Hogwarts?"

"Listen," began Harry, with a rising sense of panic, "I'm sorry, but that's not what we came back for. There's something we've got to do, and then —"

"You're going to leave us in this mess?" accused Michael Corner.

"No, of course not," said Charlie quickly. "What we're doing will benefit everyone in the end, it's all about trying to get rid of You-Know-Who —"

"Then let us help!" shouted Neville angrily. "We want to be a part of it!"

There was another noise behind them, and Charlie turned. His heart leapt: Elaina Dumont was now climbing through the hole in the wall, closely followed by Fred, George, Ginny, and Lee Jordan. They beamed upon catching sight of Charlie, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Oi! Oi!" chimed George, and Ron was soon engulfed by his siblings.

"Hermione! Charlie!" beamed Ginny, as she detached herself from the Weasley group hug, flashing them a radiant smile. "How've you two been?"

Before Charlie had the chance to answer, Fred and George had broken away from the crowd, pulling the Hawthorne heir into a bone-crushing group hug. The twins were matching with large grins plastered on their faces, suffocating the younger Gryffindor with a brother-like reunion.

"There he is! There he is!"

"Freddie, look! Ickle Charlie's gone and grown himself a beard!"

"Aw! They grow up so fast, don't they, Georgie?"

"Indeed they do! Indeed they do!"

Charlie laughed loudly, reciprocating the embrace. Soon enough, he, Ron, Harry, and the twins were all sharing brotherly sentiments, clapping each other on the backs and ruffling their hair with a gleeful cheer.

"We've missed you too, you knuckleheads!"

As the boys reunited, however, Elaina had pushed her way through the crowd and set her sights on Harry Potter. She hurried towards her boyfriend, enveloping him in a tight embrace. Naturally, Harry broke away from the others, earning catcalling whistles and feigned gasps of surprise at the couple's reunion.

"I've missed you so much, Harry!" Elaina cried, peppering kisses all over the side of his face. "I'm sorry that I couldn't come to see you at Shell's Cottage, but I —"

"It's okay," Harry cut her off, grinning from one ear to the other. "You're here now, and that's all that matters."

They shared a kiss, smiling throughout it. Harry had forgotten — he had never fully appreciated — how beautiful his girlfriend was, but he had never been more pleased to see her. The couple's embrace seemed to steal the noise from the room, leaving everyone else gaping at them in silence. With several moments passing, it was a minute or two before Harry and Elaina pulled away, beaming radiantly at one another, blushing at the attention they'd received.

(A/N: you get the idea... loll)

To diffuse the awkward tension, Charlie cheered, "Atta boy, Harry!"

With a laugh, Harry buried his head into the crook of Elaina's neck, hiding himself as his girlfriend greeted everyone else. Then, after a few moments, everyone gathered around and huddled together.

"Aberforth's getting a bit annoyed," said Fred, raising his hand in answer to several cries of greeting. "He wants a kip, and his bar's turned into a railway station."

Charlie's mouth flew open. Right behind Lee Jordan came Harry's fourth-year crush, Cho Chang. With a wave to everyone, she smiled.

"I got the message," she said, holding up her own fake Galleon, and she walked over to sit beside Michael Corner.

"So what's the plan?" asked George.

"There isn't one," said Charlie, still disoriented by the sudden appearance of all these people, unable to take everything in while his body took its time recovering.

Fred grinned, "Just going to make it up as we go along, are we? My favourite kind of plan!"

"You've got to stop this!" Harry told Neville. "What did you call them all back for? This is insane —"

"We're fighting, aren't we?" questioned Dean, taking out his fake Galleon. "The message said Harry was back, and we were going to fight! I'll have to get a wand, though —"

"You haven't got a wand — ?" began Seamus.

Ron turned suddenly to Harry.

"Why can't they help?"

"What?"

"They can help," Ron dropped his voice and said, so that none of them could hear but Charlie and Hermione, who stood between them. "We don't know where it is. We've got to find it fast. We don't have to tell them it's a Horcrux."

Charlie looked from Ron to Hermione, who murmured, "I think Ron's right. We don't even know what we're looking for, we need them."

But when Harry looked unconvinced, Charlie clapped him reassuringly on the back, whispering, "You don't have to do everything alone, Harry."

Harry and Charlie locked eyes for a moment, both simultaneously thinking of Dumbledore's warning against telling anyone but Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes. Heaving a heavy sigh, Charlie shrugged in response, and Harry seemingly gave in.

"All right," he said quietly to the other three. Ron nodded; Hermione clutched Charlie's arm once more.

"Okay, listen up!" Charlie called to the room at large, and all noise ceased; Fred and George, who had been cracking jokes for the benefit of those nearest, fell silent, and all of them looked alert, excited.

With a nudge, Charlie pushed Harry forward, enticing him to speak.

"There's something we need to find," he said, clearing his throat. "Something — something that'll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?"

Charlie looked hopefully toward the little group of Ravenclaws, to Padma, Michael, Terry, and Cho, but it was Luna who answered.

"Well, there's her lost diadem. I told you about it, remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy's trying to duplicate it."

"Yeah, but the lost diadem," said Michael Corner, rolling his eyes, "is lost, Luna. That's sort of the point."

"When was it lost?" asked Charlie quickly.

"Centuries ago, they say," said Cho, and Charlie's heart sank. "Professor Flitwick said the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked, but," she appealed to her fellow Ravenclaws, "nobody's ever found a trace of it, have they?"

They all shook their heads.

"Sorry, but what is a diadem?" asked Ron.

"It's a kind of crown," replied Hermione effortlessly.

"Yeah," Terry Boot nodded. "Ravenclaw's was supposed to have magical properties, enhance the wisdom of the wearer."

"Yes, Daddy's Wrackspurt siphons —" began Luna, but Harry cut across her.

"And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?"

They all shook their heads again. Charlie looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione and his own disappointment was reflected back at him. An object that had been lost this long, and apparently without trace, did not seem like a good candidate for the Horcrux hidden in the castle...

Before any of them could formulate a new question, however, Cho spoke again.

"If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry? Ravenclaw's wearing it on her statue."

But Harry's scar had scorched once again, his eyes rolling back into his head. He saw the dark earth soaring beneath him and felt the great snake wrapped around his shoulders. Voldemort was flying again, whether to the underground lake or here, to the castle, he did not know. Either way, there was hardly any time left.

"He's on the move," he said quietly in Charlie's ear. He glanced at Cho and then turned back to Charlie, Hermione, and Ron. "Listen, I know it's not much of a lead, but I'm going to go and look at this statue, at least find out what the diadem looks like. Wait for me here and keep, you know — the other one — safe."

His three friends nodded as Harry, giving Elaina's cheek a final kiss, turned back towards Cho, who got to her feet.

"Alright then, let's go —"

"Luna can take you, Harry," Elaina suddenly said, rather fiercely. Charlie looked at her incredulously. Surely, of all the times for her to get jealous, it couldn't be now.

"Oooh, yes, I'd like to," said Luna happily, as Cho sat herself back down, looking somewhat disappointed. Harry shot another questioning look at Elaina, but then decided now wasn't the best time to argue.

"How do we get out?" he asked Neville instead.

"Over here."

Neville led Harry and Luna to a corner, where a small cupboard opened onto a steep staircase.

"It comes out somewhere different every day, so they've never been able to find it," he explained. "Only trouble is, we never know exactly where we're going to end up when we go out. Be careful, Harry, they're always patrolling the corridors at night."

"No problem, thanks," said Harry, flashing a smile to the others. "See you in a bit."

—————————————————————

Waiting for Harry and Luna's return was torturous, enforcing meaningless conversations of catch-up. Charlie found himself pacing the floor, his gaze fixated upon the cuts and bruises littering his arms as he idly listened to Dumbledore's Army converse about the next steps against Voldemort. Ever since his experience in Gringotts, his hands would shake uncontrollably and flashes of tainted memories would spark into life in his head.

As expected, Charlie's return to Hogwarts had brought back many troubled recollections he'd rather do without, his face blazoned with stress. He could no longer focus knowing that Snape was probably locked away in the Headmaster's office, living the life he'd stolen from Albus Dumbledore. These thoughts kept propelling themselves to the forefront of his mind, weakening his already fragile state. And so, he paced the floor with a cautious stride, slowly losing himself.

Having noticed this, Hermione excused herself from her reunion with Ginny and Elaina, then crossed the room in her boyfriend's direction. Ever since they'd rescued Charlie from Gringotts, she'd been reluctant to leave his side, constantly wondering whether the torture he'd endured at the hands of the Death Eaters had finally pushed him over the edge.

Hermione pulled Charlie from his reverie by placing a soft kiss on his bruised cheek, intertwining their hands in the process; she could feel his hands tremble in hers, his pulse quicken under her fingertips. Nevertheless, Charlie's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, halting his movements, and he exhaled slowly at the comforting sensation of her touch.

With Charlie and Hermione in plain view, there was no doubt most of the people in the Room, including Ron, hadn't noticed the exchange. They paid the others no mind, but if Charlie and Hermione had chanced a glance at Ron, they would have seen him smile from his place next to Lavender Brown.

"Hey," whispered Hermione at last, squeezing his hands. "Why don't you come and sit with me? It'll help pass the time while we wait."

Charlie gave a small nod, and the two of them set off towards a distant, secluded corner of the Room of Requirement. They'd managed to find a spot next to the unoccupied wireless, sitting across from one another in silence for a moment. It had only been one night, Hermione noticed, but the colour in Charlie's face had restored as he continued to get his much-needed strength back.

"How're you feeling?" she asked worriedly.

"Better than before," admitted Charlie, although Hermione knew that wasn't the true extent of what he was going through, "but I'll be loads better when all of this is over."

"Well, it shouldn't be long now," said Hermione, her tone wistful. With a half-glance towards the others in the distance, she sighed, "That's strange to say, isn't it? This last year of our lives has been... different. I've nearly forgotten what it's like to be normal, you know?"

Charlie nodded, his limbs aching significantly whenever he made any minimalistic movement.

"It's been a long year," he murmured, queasy. "Hell, we've put our lives on the line more times than I could even count. It never seems to end, does it? Hunting for Horcruxes, searching for the Sword of Gryffindor, fighting Death Eaters —"

"Saving you from Gringotts," Hermione finished, frowning, and her head bowed towards their interlocked hands. Hesitating for a moment, she breathed at last, "It's all been so difficult, Charlie. But these past few weeks without you have been... well, bloody unbearable, frankly."

Charlie half-smiled at Hermione's swearing. He pulled her forward and onto his lap, needing to feel her body heat. Contact with each other was the best way they knew how to stave off the nightmares which inevitably would come.

"I've missed you too, baby," he told her, brushing a stray hair out of her face as he tangled his legs with hers. "But I'm here now... I'm okay."

Hermione buried her head into his neck, then whispered, "I know... I-I just hope it's all been worth it. Everything we've been forced to sacrifice, I mean."

Charlie didn't answer. He wished he could promise her it would be, but she'd know as well as him that it would be a lie. Instead, he continued to run his thumb across Hermione's cheek, and settled with looking into her eyes, focusing on the subtle flicks of gold which shone in the brown orbs. His heart began to pound in his chest, alleviating his weakened state.

"Anyway," she said quietly with half a smile, changing tact. "I don't suppose you've noticed... but Ron and Lavender seem to be getting quite close."

In fact, Charlie had noticed. As they waited in the Room of Requirement for Harry, Ron seemed to pass the time in Lavender Brown's company. Whether they were conversing about Hogwarts, or laughing at some stupid joke Ron had made, they seemed completely enamoured alongside one another. They'd even distanced themselves from everyone else and sparked some sort of connection in seclusion.

"Strange," whispered Charlie, laughing lightly. "But I guess they do have the whole 'meddling in someone else's relationship' thing in common."

"Don't be mean," said Hermione, swatting at his chest teasingly. "I think she's perfect for him."

Charlie chuckled more profoundly, and he caught a glimpse of Hermione watching him, transfixed, as though she'd missed the sound of his laugh. Unable to resist himself, he leaned in and kissed her gently. Although she'd never admit it to him, Charlie knew his girlfriend's body was still sore, her throat still barring the scar where Belatrix's knife — the one which had ultimately killed Dobby — had pressed in.

But unlike the previous night, where exhaustion and tribulation threatened to overcome them, this time Hermione quickly deepened their kiss; her tongue flicking at his lips almost immediately, requesting entry. Charlie swiftly granted her wish, trailing his hands up the length of her body with a soothing caress. Small moans elicited from their lips as their kisses became more heated, the movement of their hands more frantic.

"Easy baby, easy," Hermione warned lowly, panting for breath. "We can't do this here."

"That's unfortunate," sighed Charlie, but he placed one last kiss on her lips nonetheless before leaning back into his chair.

They sat in the silence for a long while, the murmurs of conversations between the members of Dumbledore's Army fading slowly away from their consciousness. Hermione nuzzled into Charlie's side, placing gentle kisses over his clothed torso, and took a deep breath of relief at the homely feeling erupting in her chest. There, in Charlie's arms, is exactly where Hermione had longed to be for several weeks.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair some time after. "I love you so much, 'Mione."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the shortened version of her name, but kissed her boyfriend nevertheless. His declaration of love was something Charlie told her a lot, especially now that he'd returned to her. Even if their debates over how much the other could handle became strained, it didn't stop Charlie from telling Hermione just how much he needed her — wanted her. It had become like a mantra, which he felt inclined to repeat every second of every day.

Shifting his gaze, Charlie's eyes wandered around the Room of Requirement, admiring the Hogwarts banners hanging from the ceiling in silence. Hermione followed his gaze, drawing circles on the back of his hands absentmindedly.

"I — I'm sorry..." Charlie muttered after a while.

"For what?" Hermione asked, bewildered, cupping his chin so he had to turn back to look at her. "Charlie, you saved me —"

"Not that," he said quietly, as he ran his finger across the 'M' on her forearm. Taking a deep breath, he explained, "I'm sorry for not keeping my promise. In sixth year, I gave you my word that I wouldn't leave you again, but that's precisely what I did."

"Charlie..."

"Over the summer," he pressed on. "I — I didn't know how to deal with my grandfather's death, so I distanced myself from you because I was convinced that I didn't deserve to be happy after everything I'd done. Hagrid would drop off your letters, and I'd read them over and over again — but I didn't — I —"

"I've already forgiven you for that," Hermione told him, "and we've both moved on from it."

"I know, I know," said Charlie, his hands trembling in hers. "It's just — I d-don't — I had a lot of time to think in Gringotts, you know? I've been replaying these scenarios in my head for weeks, and I can't help but think of all the mistakes I've made along the way. Why is it, that whenever I make the wrong decision, it's at the expense of someone else? My apologies may not amount to anything, but at least I can say I've tried to redeem myself. Because I know what it's like to re-live every single regret you've ever had on a constant loop for six weeks, Hermione, and I never want to feel that way again."

Hermione placed a kiss on the side of his mouth.

"Then don't," she said softly. "Be here, in this moment, with me right now. Because we've been a very generous second chance, and I don't suppose either of us has any intention of wasting it. Living in the past isn't going to do you any good, is it? Instead of blaming yourself for things that are beyond your control, why can't you realize that everything has amounted to this... to us being here together? By the looks of things, we must've done something right."

Charlie closed his eyes and managed a bright smile. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck, squeezing her tighter even though it made his fractured ribs twinge in pain.

"You know, I would die if anything happened to you," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "I can't lose you."

"And you won't," Hermione breathed into his ear, smiling softly against his skin. "You're stuck with me forever."

"But I should've realized what we had sooner... we could've had more time —" whispered Charlie, ashamed, and from the sting of his eyes he knew tears were betraying him. Knowing he didn't have to hide them in front of Hermione, however, he didn't hold them in; the emotion and exhaustion was catching up with him yet again. Not only at what had gone before, but what — he knew — was still to come.

He'd still have to lead his friends into danger.

Hermione would still be in danger.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, unable to help himself, as Hermione held his face and stared into it. "I'm s-sorry for all of it, you know."

"Don't do that, Charlie — it's not —" she tilted his chin up again, forcing eye contact, "— it's not your fault. Please, don't think like that."

Hermione kissed him firmly, then let him slump his head back into the crook of her neck, holding him until he finally got the emotion out. She held onto him consolingly as his body trembled and shook in her arms, trying to blink back tears of her own.

"D'you remember the first time I kissed you?" she asked after Charlie's quiet sobs had stopped, her voice so quiet that for a second he wasn't sure he'd heard her right.

Shifting his watery eyes, Charlie focused back on her.

"Fourth year?" he questioned, but he knew he must've been wrong by the subtle shake of her head.

"In third year actually," Hermione corrected, giggling as her boyfriend's eyes widened in recollection.

"You kissed me on the cheek during the Quidditch Cup match," he said after a moment, remembering.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, technically speaking, third year was the first kiss everyone saw. There were a few before that, mind you, but anyways," she began, with a smile at the memory, "Ron wasn't best pleased, kept saying stuff like 'that's gross' and 'inappropriate', but Ginny always shot him down."

"Why did you do it?" Charlie asked, before he could stop himself, and Hermione blushed slightly.

"I don't know, to be honest," she whispered. "Well, no, I mean I do. Of course I know why, at least now, even if I didn't at the time exactly. But I don't know what made me do it, at that moment, you know... I never really thought — I just... did it."

"That's so unlike you," Charlie teased, his lips curling into the ghost of a smirk, "to act without thinking. But I suppose I was just too adorable to resist, eh?"

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, rolling her eyes in an amused manner. "It was awkward back then, you know... because I kept getting teased for that kiss, for us being 'more than friends'. The day you met my parents, even Mum kept shooting me these looks, not bad ones, almost like knowing looks, and I — I don't think I've ever blushed so much in my life. But I didn't really know myself that I felt that way about you. I knew I did a bit, maybe, but I wasn't sure."

Charlie managed a laugh, though it came out more life a half-sob, thinking back to that day in Diagon Alley where he'd met Hermione's parents for the first time, and then automatically of Hermione at the Yule Ball, and how beautiful she had looked. He held her cheek, running the pad of his thumb in small circles, brushing it against her lips.

"That summer, she'd always say that I should invite you round," Hermione continued. "Dad wasn't too happy, but he'd have gone along with it. Not that it would've mattered anyway, given that we all ended up at the Leaky Cauldron and you were staying with Harry. But, she always said she wanted to meet you properly, not just in Diagon Alley. She always said that someday, you'd make someone very happy, and that proved to be true long before we started dating."

Processing her words, Charlie felt the same familiar pain stab inside him again. The sacrifice Hermione had made to come along with him, the price she'd had to pay for knowing him — for loving him — was remarkably admirable.

"But it's not just me," said Hermione quietly. "You make everyone happy, Charlie. People love you... Harry loves you... all of the Weasley's love you... Elaina... Luna..."

"Romilda Vane?" he asked, mustering a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes again, scoffing, "Oh please, Romilda's 'love' for you is based strictly on her own delusional infatuation..."

"Damn, you think so?"

"Mhm," Hermione hummed, her head nodding teasingly. "Not to worry, though, because my infatuation for you is pure logic and science."

Charlie laughed, but then looked down, seeing the scars again on her arm. Without thinking, he leaned down and placed several kisses along the word, 'Mudblood', silently hoping he could somehow remove any negative connotations with the softness of his quivering lips.

"...Dumbledore loved you..." Hermione whispered after a moment, and unlike the time outside the tent on Christmas morning, Charlie didn't argue with her. "And Dobby, he loved you." She kissed him again, focusing his attention back on her. "And I, more than anything in this world, love you."

Charlie smiled, resting his head against hers, and nuzzled theirs noses together affectionately.

"I love you, too."

(A/N: #Charmione fluff because we've been deprived loll)

"Hey, lovebirds, mind if I join you?" came the cheerful voice of Elaina Dumont, who had, moments later, sauntered her way over to the Gryffindor couple.

"Of course not," said Hermione, smiling. "Have a seat," she indicated the spot where she'd once been sitting before she moved into Charlie's lap. "How have you been? We're dying to know what's been going on around here."

"Oh, I'm sure Neville filled you in on all the gruesome details," muttered Elaina, shrugging. "Besides, I'm sure whatever's been going on here isn't nearly comparable to what you four have been up to. The Slytherins have been talking nonstop about you, you know? Since most of them have Death Eater parents, it didn't take long for the whole 'skirmish at Malfoy Manor' rumour to spread. So, I have to ask, is it true? Did you guys nearly get caught?"

"Yeah, and we've got the scars to prove it," scoffed Charlie, bouncing his leg up and down anxiously.

Elaina blinked, "What does that mean — ?"

"Harry broke the taboo one night. It was an accident, mind you, but yes," began Hermione shakily, "the Snatchers found us... they took us to the Malfoy's once they realized who we were. Then — w-well, you can probably assume what happened next... it wasn't very pretty."

"That's quite the understatement," Charlie mumbled under his breath, and Elaina looked at him with wide-eyed confusion. Exhaling slowly, he freed his left arm from Hermione's embrace and rolled up his sleeve, revealing his scarred and faded Dark Mark wound.

(A/N: updated artwork by my love wonhosmila <3)

Elaina's jaw dropped at the sight of it, her hands cupping her mouth for a moment. Then, without thinking, she reached out and trailed her hands over the words, 'Blood Traitor', as though she was expecting them to rub away at her touch. Hermione turned her head, hiding her unshed tears away from the others.

"Nice, eh?" whispered Charlie, with a dark-humoured laugh. "That's courtesy of my very own deadbeat father, who, as you can see, got a little too knife-happy. But, on the bright side, the damn thing hasn't burned since then."

"Putain de merde," Elaina cursed in French, shaking her head. "Excuse my language, but that's inhumane! I'm sorry, Char, but your father truly is a sadistic lunatic."

"Yeah, well, aren't all Death Eaters?" shrugged Charlie, paying this comment no mind. "I mean, from what Neville told us, the new Headmaster doesn't sound all that great either. Granted, I don't know what else I would expect from a murderer."

Hermione whirled back around, her mouth agape at her boyfriend's cruel bluntness.

"Charlie!"

"What? It's the truth!" he argued incredulously. "And I told you what would happen if I ever saw Snape's abnormally large nose agai—"

But before Charlie could finish cursing out the ex-Potions Professor, the portrait to the Hog's Head swung open once again. Charlie, Hermione, Elaina, and every other member of the D.A. stood on alert, staring at the openly admitted passageway in shock. Then, one by one, members of the Order of the Phoenix poured out from the depths of the darkness, packing into the room to create a crowd far larger than before.

Hoping to get a closer look, Charlie took a stance in front of the portrait hole, his mouth opened slightly. Kingsley and Lupin were looking down at him from the passageway entrance, as were Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, Bill and Fleur, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, dears!" beamed Mrs. Weasley, pulling Charlie, Hermione, and Ron into a group hug without missing a beat. "How are you? You're all looking a bit peaky, I must say —"

"Now's not the time, Molly," warned Kingsley, and Mrs. Weasley frowned before retreating to stand next to her husband and Ginny, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"Charlie, what's happening?" said Lupin, meeting him at the foot of the stairs.

"You-Know-Who's on his way to the castle, we're waiting for Harry to return with something — what're you guys doing here? How did you know?"

"We sent messages to the rest of Dumbledore's Army," Fred explained, raising his Galleon, "and the D.A. let the Order know, so it all kind of snowballed. You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Char!"

Charlie looked to Ron and Hermione, who reflected his own look of anxiousness back at him.

"So what do we do now, Charlie?" called George. "We can't just sit around and wait for Harry! Let's rally the troops and start fighting, what do you say?"

"We can't —"

Charlie cut himself off as the enchanted entrance to the Room of Requirement wretched itself open, exposing the steep staircase leading upwards. He took a breath of relief, expecting to see Harry and Luna appear on the other side, but his mood quickly changed significantly. To everyone's surprise, Daphne Greengrass, a seventh-year Slytherin member of the D.A., came running up the stairs, looking extremely startled and gasping for breath.

"Daph!" exclaimed Elaina, startled. "What is it? You were supposed to be keeping watch —"

"I was, but I had to warn you!" Daphne squealed, her hands shaking with worry. "Snape knows. He knows that the Undesirables were spotted in Hogsmeade. He's called for all students and staff to report to the Great Hall immediately."

The crowd broke out into panicked murmurs, each of them looking to Charlie, Hermione, and Ron for answers. Some of the D.A. members were already starting to pack up their supplies, preparing to pile into the portrait hole of the Hog's Head to escape.

"What're we supposed to do?" whispered Ron anxiously, only loud enough for Charlie and Hermione to hear. "Anyone got a plan? Hermione?"

Hermione scoffed, "Why is it always me?"

"Because, in case you've forgotten, you're supposed to be the one with the genius-level intellect!"

"And what exactly are you supposed to be?"

"What, in this group? I'm easily the level-headed one!"

"Oh, please, don't make me laugh —"

"Both of you, knock it off!" said Charlie sharply, silencing them at once. "We'll need to stall Snape somehow, to give Harry more time to find the Horcrux."

Ron blinked, "But how're we meant to do that? Snape's going to think it's bloody suspicious if the D.A. members don't show up for questioning!"

"Then we'll follow instructions," said Charlie, shrugging. Ron and Hermione looked at him, thoroughly confused, before their friend turned to address the room. "Everyone, listen up!" he called loudly. "Harry isn't back yet, so in the meantime, we need to stall Snape and the Carrows. We won't be able to achieve anything with them lurking about."

"What do you need us to do?" asked Neville, speaking on behalf of the crowd. "Whatever it is, we'll do it."

Charlie smiled appreciatively. His leadership was brought to the forefront as everyone froze at the sound of his authoritative voice, listening to his words carefully and attentively.

"All D.A. members will go down to the Great Hall at Snape's request," he informed them. "You'll have to act as calm and convincing as possible, you can't let him think you know anything about us coming here tonight."

"Got it!"

"No problem!"

"Consider it done!"

"Good! Now, moving on," Charlie pressed on, his eyes scanning the room. "Nev, since you're not expected to be in the Great Hall, I'll need to borrow your Gryffindor robes."

With a confused look towards Ron and Hermione, who couldn't provide further insight, Neville questioned, "What? Why?"

"Because I'm going to be the distraction Harry needs," explained Charlie, paying no mind to Hermione's subtle gasp behind him. "I'll blend in with the crowd, waiting, and then I'll strike."

"No, absolutely not!" argued Hermione, stepping forward. "Are you absolutely insane? There's no way you'll be able to take on Snape and the Carrows by yourself! Charlie, please, you've barely recovered from Gringotts —"

"Your faith in me is severely lacking," Charlie scoffed playfully. "Besides, who said anything about taking on the Death Eaters alone?"

Fred and George cheered.

"So we are fighting?"

"It's about time!"

"Let's do this!"

"Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray!"

"The rest of you will be on the other side of the Great Hall doors," explained Charlie loudly, putting Hermione's worries at ease. "You'll wait for my signal, okay? In doing this, we'll draw attention away from Harry and make sure everyone else in the Hall makes it to safety before all hell breaks loose. Did I make myself clear, any questions? Who's with me?"

There was a great roar and a surge toward the stairs; Charlie was pressed back against the wall as they ran passed him. The mingled members of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Army, and the old Gryffindor Quidditch team, all with their wands tucked away, headed up into the main castle.

"Here you go, Char," Neville called as he passed, holding out his spare Gryffindor robes, and Charlie took them and placed them over his clothes. Hermione even helped him form the knot in his tie.

"I miss seeing you in your uniform," she teased.

Charlie winked at her, "I bet you do."

Behind them, the crowd had thinned significantly. Only a little knot of people remained below in the Room of Requirement, and Charlie and Hermione joined them. Mrs. Weasley was struggling with Ginny, her finger scoldingly. Watching, in a circle around them, were Ron, Lupin, Fred, George, Bill and Fleur.

"You're underage!" Mrs. Weasley shouted at her daughter as Charlie approached. "I won't permit it! The boys, yes, but you, you've got to go home!"

"I won't!"

Ginny's flaming red hair flew as she pulled her arm out of her mother's grip.

"I'm in Dumbledore's Army —"

"A teenagers' gang!"

"A teenagers' gang that's about to take him on, which no one else has dared to do!" argued Fred.

"She's sixteen!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "She's not old enough! What were you two thinking bringing her with you —"

Fred and George looked slightly ashamed of themselves.

"Mom's right, Ginny," said Bill gently. "You can't do this. Everyone underage will have to leave, it's only right."

"I can't go home!" Ginny shouted, angry tears filling her eyes, "my whole family's here, I can't stand waiting there alone and not knowing and —"

Ginny looked at Charlie beseechingly, but he shook his head and she turned away bitterly. It wasn't his place to say whether Ginny should stay to fight, no matter how much she'd cared for — or undeniably supported — his relationship with Hermione.

"Fine," she said, staring at the entrance to the tunnel back to the Hog's Head. "I'll say goodbye now, then, and —"

There was a scuffling and a great thump. Someone else had clambered out of the tunnel, overbalanced slightly, and fallen. He pulled himself up on the nearest chair, looked around through lopsided horn-rimmed glasses, and said, "Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I — I —"

Percy Weasley spluttered into silence. Evidently, he had not expected to run into most of his family.

There was a long moment of astonishment, broken by Fleur turning to Lupin and saying, in a wildly transparent attempt to break the tension. "So — 'ow eez leetle Teddy?"

Lupin blinked at her, startled. The silence between the Weasleys seemed to be solidifying, like ice.

"I — oh yes — he's fine!" Lupin said loudly, "yes, Tonks is with him — at her mother's —"

Percy and the other Weasleys were still staring at one another, frozen.

"Here, I've got a picture!" Lupin shouted, pulling a photograph from inside his jacket and showing it to Fleur, Charlie, and Hermione, who saw a tiny baby with a tuft of bright turquoise hair, waving fat fists at the camera.

"I was a fool!" Percy roared, so loudly that Lupin nearly dropped his photograph. "I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a — a —"

"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron?" suggested Fred, raising a brow.

Percy swallowed.

"Yes..."

"Well, you can't say fairer than that," said Fred, holding his hand out to Percy.

Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She ran forward, pushed Fred aside, and pulled Percy into a strangling hug, while he patted her on the back, his eyes settled on his father.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Percy whispered. Mr. Weasley blinked rather rapidly, then he too hurried to hug his son.

"What made you see sense, Perce?" inquired George.

"It's been coming on for a while," sighed Percy, mopping his eyes under his glasses with a corner of his traveling cloak. "I knew I had to find a way out, but it's not so easy at the Ministry — they're imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Aberforth and he tipped me off that Hogwarts was going to make a fight of it, so here I am."

"Well, we do look to our prefects to take a lead at times such as these," said George, in a good imitation of Percy's most pompous manner.

"Come on," Ron smiled. "Let's get upstairs and fight, or all the good Death Eaters'll be taken."

"So, you're my sister in-law now?" beamed Percy, shaking hands with Fleur as they hurried off toward the staircase with Bill, Fred, and George.

"Ginny!" barked Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny had been attempting, undercover of the reconciliations, to sneak upstairs too.

"Molly, how about this," began Lupin. "Why doesn't Ginny stay here, then at least she'll be on the scene and know what's going on, but she won't be in the middle of the fighting?"

"I —"

"That's a good idea," said Mr. Weasley firmly, "Ginny, you stay in this room, you hear me?"

Ginny did not seem to like the idea much, but under her father's unusually stern gaze, she nodded. Without missing a beat, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Lupin headed off to the stairs as well.

"Guess that's our cue," muttered Charlie, and he turned to follow after the others. "Come on, Hermione."

He held out his hand for her to take, and, after a quick goodbye to Ginny, Hermione interlaced their fingers. They hastily strode across the room and walked up the stairs that led into the seventh-floor corridor. Once at the top, they met crowds of students, most wearing traveling cloaks over their pyjamas, being shepherded down to the Great Hall by teachers and prefects.

"I should probably sneak in with the Gryffindors," whispered Charlie, shielding his face from the passerby. "Find the others, okay? I'll see you in a bit."

But, as he took a step into the corridor, Hermione involuntarily squeezed his hand tighter, unwilling to let him go. With a half-smile, Charlie brought her hands to his lips and kissed them.

Shuddering at the sensation of his affections, Hermione whispered, "Please, Charlie, be careful."

"Always," he said, with a small, reassuring laugh.

And with that, he slipped into the crowd, disappearing from Hermione's sight, until the they reached the Great Hall at last. Charlie blended amongst the crowd of students, keeping his head down as a means to not draw any unnecessary attention to himself. He remained unseen for the most part, his withered skin helping to hide his easily identifiable features.

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was dark and scattered with stars, and below it the four long House tables were lined with disheveled students, some in traveling cloaks, others in dressing gowns. Near the ceiling, the pearly white figures of the school ghosts soared through the air. Hidden amongst the Gryffindors, Charlie felt his heart swoon at the sight of his childhood home, his sense of familiarity calming his nerves. The staff table still resided at the front of the Hall, now guarded by Amycus and Alecto Carrow, each of whom stood like sinister sentinels, their eyes raking the crowd.

With a breath of relief, Charlie quickly spotted familiar faces. Professor McGonagall, her face ashen, her bearing reduced, stood along the right wall with other teachers, including Professor Slughorn, and some custodial staff, while Professors Flitwick and Sprout stood with their own Houses on the left. Each of the staff members wore solemn expressions, looking drained from, Charlie assumed, their heroic attempts at keeping the students of Hogwarts safe from the Death Eater alum.

Then, with a shudder of dread, the Great Hall doors opened again, silencing the room immediately. Striding down the middle aisle with his billowing cloak trailing at his feet, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, Severus Snape, appeared. The mere sight of his long, pointed nose and his greasy black hair was enough to make Charlie's blood boil, his eyes following his ex-Professor as he made his way up towards the staff table, stopped dramatically in front of it, and addressed the crowd with his obnoxious voice.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

(A/N: easily one of my favourite scenes from the films)

"Many of you are surely wondering why I've summoned you here at this hour," he announced, and Charlie's hands involuntarily clenched at the despicable authoritativeness in his tone. "It has come to my attention that earlier this evening... the Undesirables were sighted in Hogsmeade."

There was a murmured thrill that filled the Great Hall; McGonagall's eyes glistened with curiosity. Regardless of the excitement, Snape briefly raised his voice to quell the noise in the Hall.

"I mention this in hopes that truth will not be supplanted by rumour. For myself, and a few select staff, this comes with little surprise. We have, for some time, considered both Potter and Hawthorne's return to Hogwarts to be not only possible but inevitable. Consequently, in the past several months and under my specific direction, exhaustive defensive strategies have been employed to defeat any attempt the Undesirables might make to breach these walls."

"But know this," he hissed tauntingly. "Should anyone — student or staff — attempt to aid the Undesirables, that person will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their transgression. Furthermore, any person found to have knowledge of these events, especially those who fail to come forward, will be treated as equally guilty."

As applause erupted from the Slytherins on the far left side of the Great Hall, Charlie felt his veins pulse with an unfathomable rage and hatred. He felt like he was going to explode without. The room fell silent, however, as Snape raised in his hand once more.

"Now then, if anyone here has any knowledge of the Undesirables' movements this evening... I invite them to step forward now."

Snape's eyes scanned the Great Hall, his billowing cloak following him as he paced floor. There was a nervous shift of glances amongst the students, silence ricocheting eerily off the walls. For the first time, at least in Charlie's recollection, the Great Hall was so quiet that he swore he would've been able to hear a pin drop on the other side of the room if necessary.

And then...

Footsteps.

Having heard enough, Charlie allowed for his rage to drag him out of the shadows at the back of the Hall, his arms forcefully pushing his way through his fellow Gryffindors. At the sight of him, McGonagall's chin raised in disbelief, her eyes blossoming with a newfound hopefulness. In contrast, Snape looked as though he'd come face-to-face with a ghost. The crowd of students, however, overpowered them both as they each broke out into yells of shock at Charlie's sudden appearance.

"It would seem that," began Charlie loudly, facing Snape with a glare, his feet halting him in the openness of the middle aisle, "despite your 'exhaustive defensive strategies', you still have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster..."

The room fell quiet once again; the students observed the stand-off in the centre of the room with anticipation. Snape, however, stared at the Hawthorne heir with a look of stunned astonishment for a moment, before his gaze shifted as the Great Hall doors opened behind the young man.

One by one, every member of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix emerged, huddling together in solidarity with Hermione and Ron at the forefront, leading the way forward.

"...and I'm afraid it's quite extensive."

Nothing but revenge on his mind, Charlie maintained eye contact with Snape's jet black eyes, searching desperately to find anything worth redemption. But it was no use, the anger coursing through his veins was far too strong. He had forgotten how much he'd loathed the man who took the life of his grandfather, of the only true family he'd ever known...

The Carrows, who had began charging towards Charlie, seemed to falter at the sight of Dumbledore's Army and the Order, for they now turned to Snape with uncertainty. Raising a hand towards the pocket of his Gryffindor robes, Charlie's eyes narrowed with malice as he stared at Professor Snape.

"How dare you stand where he stood..."

Snape watched, frozen, as Charlie drew his wand from his pocket, pointing it at the Headmaster in a challenging manner. The Great Hall erupted with gasps of surprise, and Charlie could've sworn he heard an uneasy gasp elicit from Hermione's lips behind him. It did not phase him, however, for his rage had rendered his ability to rationalize utterly useless.

"Tell them how it happened that night," he challenged, his voice echoing around the Hall. "Tell them how you looked him in the eye — a man who trusted you — and killed him! Tell them how you murdered my grandfather in cold blood! Go on! Tell them!"

For a moment, Snape's mouth opened, as though he might try to appeal to Charlie's better judgement, before it closed once more, unable to say anything in his own defence. McGonagall stood poised alongside the other Hogwarts staff, each of them no longer looking like ashen ghosts. In the entranceway, Ron and Hermione took a step forward in their friend's defence, their hands twitching over their own wands.

The air within the Great Hall prickled with anticipation, the tension was nearly suffocating...

Suddenly, as Snape made a sudden movement to retrieve his wand from his cloak, McGonagall moved faster than Charlie could have ever believed; her wand slashed through the air, and for a split second, Charlie thought that Snape must've crumpled, unconscious, but the swiftness of his Shield Charm was such that McGonagall was thrown off balance. She brandished her wand at a few of the torches on the wall and they flew out of their brackets; Charlie, about to curse Snape with his own wand, was forced to pull a few students out of the way of the descending flames, which became a ring of fire that filled the Great Hall and flew like a lasso at Snape —

Then it was no longer fire, but a great black serpent that McGonagall blasted to smoke, which re-formed and solidified in seconds to become a swarm of pursuing daggers: Snape avoided them only by forcing Alecto and Amycus Carrow in front of him, and with echoing clangs the daggers sank, one after another, into their chests.

"Minerva!" said a squeaky voice, and looking behind him, still shielding students from flying spells, Charlie saw Professors Flitwick and Sprout sprinting up the aisle toward them in their nightclothes, with the enormous Professor Slughorn, panting, at the rear.

"No!" squealed Flitwick, raising his wand. "You'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!"

Flitwick's spell hit the front table behind which Snape had taken shelter; with a loud bang it snapped like a twig into pieces. Snape struggled free of the crushing planks of wood and sent them flying back toward his attackers: Charlie and McGonagall had to dive sideways to avoid them as they smashed into the wall and disintegrated into sawdust.

"Crucio! Crucio!" Charlie yelled, as he staggered to his feet once again, but Snape, outnumbered, standing at the epicentre of the Hall, parried spell after spell with astonishing skill.

Retreating, Snape took the measure of the room, sweeping his wand over his head; the remaining dimly-lit torches that lined the wall extinguished to sudden smoke, pitching the Great Hall into complete darkness. As students began to scream louder and louder with fear, there was a great whooshing sound that filled the room, and then, out of nowhere, an unidentified entity flew past the windows, rattling the panes before blasting through one completely.

Instantly, the torches bursted back into life, illuminating Professor McGonagall, who had her wand raised towards them. As a murmur of startled whispers broke out amongst the Great Hall, Charlie sprinted to the broken window, ignoring McGonagall's, Flitwick's and Sprout's shouts of astonishment at what just happened. With a tingle of horror, he saw a huge, bat-like shape flying through the darkness toward the perimeter wall in the distance.

"Coward! COWARD!" he cried angrily. "He didn't even stay to fight!"

There were heavy footfalls behind them, and a great deal of puffing: Slughorn had just caught up.

"Charles!" he panted, massaging his immense chest beneath his emerald-green silk pyjamas. "My dear boy... Minerva, do please explain... Severus... what?"

"Our Headmaster is taking a short break," said Professor McGonagall bitterly, pointing at the window. "He seems to have learned a few tricks from his master."

"He got away! He got away, dammit!" shouted Charlie, his clenched fists punching the nearby wall repeatedly. "Coward! COWARD!"

"Charlie, stop!" came the demanding voice of Hermione, as she led the other members of the D.A. up the main aisle of the Great Hall. "It's okay, it's okay! Just relax —"

"Do not tell me to relax!" Charlie snapped, harsher than ever intended, his trauma now intertwining with his rush of emotions. "That's the second time I've let him escape, and I could've —"

"First off, watch your tone with me," said Hermione hotly, athough she'd taken a step back once he'd raised his voice. "Second, I know you're upset, but we have bigger problems right now, all right? So, please, calm down!"

Coming to his senses, Charlie took a deep breath, pocketed his wand, and muttered, "You're right... I'm sorry."

Hermione managed an uneasy smile.

"It's okay, I understand."

"Charles!" called Professor McGonagall, clutching her heart. "Charles — you're here! What — ? How — ?" She struggled to pull herself together. "Charles, that was incredibly foolish!"

"I like to make an entrance," said Charlie, shrugging.

"Charles, I can't believe — that was very — very gallant of you — but don't you realize — ?"

"Yeah, I do, but it doesn't matter," Charlie assured her, for somehow her panic had steadied him. "Professor McGonagall, You-Know-Who's on the way."

McGonagall's mouth fell agape, her hands clutched at the neck of her old tartan dressing gown as she shared concerned looks with Professors Flitwick, Slughorn, and Sprout, each of whom matched her wide-eyed expression.

"Then you must flee," whispered Professor McGonagall. "Now, Charles, as quickly as you can! Take Granger and Weasley with you —"

"We can't," argued Charlie. "Harry's off looking for something. Professor, do you know where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?"

"The d-diadem of Ravenclaw? Of course not — hasn't it been lost for centuries?" McGongall stood up a little straighter. "Charles, it was madness, utter madness, for you to enter this castle —"

"I had to, Professor," said Charlie quickly, sparing a look in Ron and Hermione's direction. "We're acting on Dumbledore's orders, we have to find what he wanted us to find! But we've got to get the students out while Harry's searching the castle."

"You're acting on Dumbledore's orders?" McGonagall repeated, with a look of dawning wonder. Then, she drew herself up to her fullest height. "We shall secure the school against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while Potfer searches for this — this object."

"Is that possible?"

"I think so," said McGonagall dryly, "we teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we will be able to hold You-Know-Who off for a while if we all put our best efforts into it. Of course, it would indeed be advisable to take as many innocent people out of the way as possible. With the Floo Network under observation, and Apparition impossible within the grounds —"

"There's a way," Ron chimed in. "There's a passageway out of the Room of Requirement, to the Hog's Head."

"Weasley, we're talking about hundreds of students —"

"We can use the House Elves!" exclaimed Hermione, conjuring up a plan. "They can Apparate and Disapparate in the grounds, can't they? We can ask them to help! If You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters are concentrating on the school boundaries they won't be interested in anyone who's Disapparating out of the Hog's Head."

"There's definitely something in that, Miss Granger," McGonagall agreed, and she turned her attention to the rest of the curious staff members. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming." Sprout and Flitwick gasped; Slughorn let out a low groan. "The Undesirables have work to do in the castle on Dumbledore's orders. We need to put in place every protection of which we are capable while Potter searches for whatever they need to find."

"You realize, of course, that nothing we do will be able to keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely?" squeaked Flitwick.

"But we can hold him up," argued Professor Sprout.

"Thank you, Pomona," said Professor McGonagall, and between the two witches there passed a look of grim understanding. "I suggest we establish basic protection around the place, then gather our students and meet in the courtyard. Most must be evacuated, though if any of those who are over age wish to stay and fight, I think they ought to be given the chance."

"Agreed," said Professor Sprout, already hurrying toward the door. "I shall meet you in the courtyard in twenty minutes." And as she jogged out of sight, Charlie could hear her muttering, "Tentacula. Devil's Snare. Snargaluff pods... yes, I'd like to see the Death Eaters fighting those."

"I can act from here," said Flitwick, and although he could barely see out of it, he pointed his wand through the smashed window and started muttering incantations of great complexity. Charlie heard a weird rushing noise, as though Flitwick had unleashed the power of the wind into the grounds, and then a dome — a dome of blue light — rose up from the ground, encompassing the castle.

"Professor," Charlie said, approaching the little Charms master, "Professor, I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is important. Have you got any idea where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?"

"Protego Horribilis — the diadem of Ravenclaw?" squeaked Flitwick, taken aback. "A little extra wisdom never goes amiss, Hawthorne, but I hardly think it would be much use in this situation!"

"I only meant — do you know where it is? Have you ever seen it?"

"Seen it? Nobody has seen it in living memory! Long since lost, boy!"

Charlie felt a mixture of desperate disappointment and panic. What, then, was the Horcrux?

"After you're finished, Filius, escort your Ravenclaws down to the courtyard!" said Professor McGonagall, cocking her head over her shoulder.

Members of the D.A. and the Order of the Phoenix had just gathered at the front of the Great Hall when Slughorn rumbled into speech.

"My word," he puffed, pale and sweaty, his walrus moustache aquiver. "What a to-do! I'm not at all sure whether this is wise, Minerva. He is bound to find a way in, you know, and anyone who has tried to delay him will be in most grievous peril —"

"I shall expect you and the Slytherins in the courtyard in twenty minutes, also," instructed Professor McGonagall. "If you wish to leave with your students, we shall not stop you. But if any of you attempt to sabotage our resistance or take up arms against us within this castle, then, Horace, we duel to kill."

"Minerva!" he said, aghast.

"The time has come for Slytherin House to decide upon its loyalties," interrupted Professor McGonagall. "Go and gather your students, Horace."

Charlie did not stay to watch Slughorn splutter. He, Ron, and Hermione followed after Professor McGonagall, who had taken up a position in the middle of the Hall and raised her wand. "Piertotum — oh, for heaven's sake, Filch, not now —"

The aged caretaker had just come hobbling into view, shouting, "Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!"

"They're supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot!" shouted McGonagall. "Now go and do something constructive! Find Peeves!"

"P-Peeves?" stammered Filch as though he had never heard the name before.

"Yes, Peeves, you fool — Peeves! Haven't you been complaining about him for a quarter of a century? Go and fetch him, at once!"

Filch evidently thought Professor McGonagall had taken leave of her senses, but hobbled away, hunch-shouldered, muttering under his breath.

"And now — Piertotum Locomotor!" cried Professor McGonagall, and all along the outside corridor, Charlie watched through the Great Hall doors as the statues and suits of armour jumped down from their plinths, and from the echoing crashes from the floors above and below, he knew that their fellows throughout the castle had done the same.

Without missing a beat, every eye, living and dead, was fixed upon Professor McGonagall, who was now speaking from the raised platform at the top of the Hall. Behind her stood the remaining teachers, including the palomino centaur, Firenze, and the members of the Order of the Phoenix who had arrived to fight.

"Attention, attention! Hogwarts is being threatened, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is on his way! Our evacuation protocols will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madame Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organize your House and take your charges, in an orderly fashion, to the evacuation point."

Many of the students looked petrified. However, as Charlie's eyes surveyed the walls, scanning the room for any sign of Luna or Harry, Ernie Macmillan stood up at the Hufflepuff table and shouted, "And what if we want to stay and fight?"

There was a smattering of applause.

"If you are of age, you may stay," replied Professor McGonagall.

"What about our things?" called a girl at the Ravenclaw table. "Our trunks, our owls?"

"We have no time to collect possessions," said Professor McGonagall quickly. "The important thing is to get you out of here safely. We have already placed protection around the castle, but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects —"

But her final words were drowned as a different voice echoed throughout the Hall. It was high, cold, and clear. There was no telling from where it came; it seemed to issue from the walls themselves. Like the monster it had once commanded, it might have lain dormant there for centuries.

"I know that you are preparing to fight."

There were screams amongst the students, some of whom clutched each other, looking around in terror for the source of the sound.

"Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

There was silence in the Hall now, the kind of silence that presses against the eardrums, that seems too huge to be contained by walls.

"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort's voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

The silence swallowed them all again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found Charlie, Ron, and Hermione, to hold them frozen in the glare of thousands of invisible beams. Then a figure rose from the Slytherin table, and Charlie recognized Pansy Parkinson as she raised a shaking arm and screamed, "Let's go and find Potter! He's in the castle somewhere! Someone grab his friends as a means to exchange!"

Before Charlie could speak, there was a massive movement. The Gryffindors in front of him had risen and stood facing, not the three in question, but the Slytherins. Then the Hufflepuffs stood, and almost at the same moment, the Ravenclaws, all of them with their backs to the Undesirables, all of them looking towards Pansy instead, and Charlie, awestruck and overwhelmed, saw wands emerging everywhere, pulled from beneath cloaks and from under sleeves.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," said Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. "But I'm afraid that won't be necessary — Filch!" she demanded, and the caretaker peaked his ugly head back into the room. "Escort Miss Parkinson, and anyone else who doesn't wish to fight, from the premises until further notice."

Charlie heard the grinding of benches, then the sound of some of the Slytherins trooping out on the other side of the Hall. Slowly the four House tables emptied. The Slytherin table was almost completely deserted, but a number of older Ravenclaws remained seated while their fellows filed out; even more Hufflepuffs stayed behind, and half of Gryffindor remained in their seats, necessitating Professor McGonagall's descent from the teachers' platform to chivvy the underage on their way.

"Absolutely not, Creevey, go! And you, Peakes!"

Charlie led Ron and Hermione over to the other Weasleys, who were all sitting together at the Gryffindor table.

"We've only got an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast," he said anxiously. "But what exactly do we do from here?"

"Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers — Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor — where they'll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells," explained Kingsley. "Meanwhile, Remus, Arthur, and I will take groups to the edge of the castle walls. We'll need somebody to organize defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school —"

"Sounds like a job for us," called Fred, indicating himself and George, and Kingsley nodded his head with approval.

"All right, leaders up here and we'll divide up the troops! The House Elves are willing to help with transporting people to safety. The Hospital Wing will be the port of call for medical evacuations and will be guarded. We will fall back to the Great Hall if necessary."

"Charles," said Professor McGonagall, hurrying up to him, as students flooded the platform, jostling for position, receiving instructions, "Have you any idea where Potter might be in the midst of all of this?"

"No," Charlie shook his head. "He left with Luna awhile ago, no one's seen him since."

"He's probably found what we're looking for," said Hermione hopefully, as she and Ron came to stand alongside Charlie. "That's why it's taking him so long, he's trying to find a way to destroy it."

"But Griphook took the sword," reminded Ron, despite McGonagall's sudden look of confusion as to what they were talking about. "Even if he has managed to locate the diadem, how is he meant to destroy it?"

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose, then said, "Not to mention, we still have the other one to destroy. Hermione's got it in her beaded bag, remember?"

McGonagall furrowed her brows, glancing between the three of them with utter curiosity.

"What are you talking about — ?"

Charlie sniggered, "It's a long story, Professor —"

"Wait!" said Ron abruptly, and both Charlie and Hermione jumped at the urgency in his voice. "Basilisk Venom!"

"Yes, Ronald, we know that the sword was impregnated with basilisk venom when Charlie..." Hermione began, but she quickly cut herself off as a look of wondrous surprise replaced the strained look on her face. "...when Charlie killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Oh my God, Ron! That's brilliant!"

Ron positively beamed under her admiration, and Charlie, catching on quickly, wondered how he could feel so pleased in the atmosphere of impending doom in which they had lived for so long.

"Ron, you're a genius!" he awed, ruffling his friend's hair in a brotherly display of affection. "If we leave now, we can collect some fangs from the chamber and meet Harry back here."

"But, babe, how do you expect us to get in? The Chamber only opens to those who order it to open in Parseltongue," said Hermione matter-of-factly, her arms crossed with disappointment. "We'll have to wait until Harry —"

"We can't wait that long," interrupted Charlie, pleading with his eyes. "Voldemort's on his way now." Ron gasped. "What? We might as well use his proper name, mate, because he's going to try and kill us regardless. But we have to destroy the goblet in order to beat him, and we have to be ready to destroy the diadem. Last time Harry and I went into the Chamber, I heard how he opened the door, and I think I can repeat it somehow."

"That's good enough for me," said Ron with an awkward laugh. "It'll be good to try, at least, yeah?"

"But how will we get back out? Didn't Fawkes fly you out last time?" asked Hermione, who couldn't help but voice her last concern.

"Well... we'll fly back out, again," suggested Charlie, and he took out his wand once more and gave it a wave, "Accio Nimbus 2000!"

Within an instant, the sleek and shiny broomstick, with 'Nimbus Two Thousand' inscribed in gold at the top of its mahogany handle, came whizzing in from the shattered window in which Snape had escaped through. Gripping the broom in one hand, Charlie reached for Hermione with the other. Despite her anxious bottom lip between her teeth, she graciously took his hand and nodded her approval of the plan.

"Okay, that'll work," beamed Ron, and the return to the Chamber of Secrets had momentarily driven every other thought from their minds.

Charlie turned back around to address an astonished McGonagall, saying, "Professor, we have to —"

"Then go, Charles, go!"

"Right — yeah —"

"Oh, and by the way, Charles," called McGonagall, smiling to herself, before the Gryffindors made to move, "it's good to see you."

"You, too, Professor."

And with that, Charlie led Hermione and Ron towards the exit, the Nimus 2000 tucked under his arm. Before they stepped over the threshold, however, Hermione turned and said over her shoulder, "Elaina, if Harry returns before us, please tell him we went to the second floor girls' lavatory."

The French exchange student looked bewildered for a moment, but then agreed to relay her message.

"Wait, where are you three going?" Mrs. Weasley shouted after them. "Ronald! RONALD!"

"Sorry, Mum!" he yelled back. "I'll explain later!"

And before another protest rang through the air, Charlie, Ron, and Hermione hurried into the crowded Entrance Hall, ignoring the eyes following their every move as they ran. They allowed themselves to be swept up the marble staircase with the passerby, but at the second-floor, the three Gryffindors hurried off along the deserted corridor towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Mrs. Weasley's going to kill us, you know," Charlie panted as they ran down the hallway. "Even if we do make it out of this bloody chamber alive."

Ron laughed, clutching at a stitch in his side, "I'm surprised we've managed to survive her wrath this long, if I'm honest."

"Boys, focus!" chided Hermione, although there was a ghost of a smile curling onto her own lips. "We're running out of time!"

(A/N: the only trio grouping I had yet to explore...)

The sound of hundreds of people marching toward the Room of Requirement above them grew louder and louder. Prefects were shouting instructions, trying to keep track of the students in their own Houses; Charlie heard the whimpers of younger students, while the older ones called desperately for their friends or siblings.

This is it, he thought. The end is coming, it's time for war.

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Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

I meant to include the Chamber of Secrets scene in this chapter, but I lost track of the word count loll

so that'll happen next!! as well as the Chamber of Secrets kiss... 👀

also, I think the official story will end exactly at part 100 ahhhhh (not including the epilogue ofc)

hope you enjoyed this lil filler chapter full of Charmione fluff and war preparations <3

[insert begging for comments and votes here]

xo, selena

p.s. we're SO close to 300k views... I LOVE YOU GUYS WTFFFFF THAT'S CRAZY!!!!!