Author's Note: I'm going to make this brief. To those of you who have been faithfully following this story, thank you so much! You guys mean the world to me! Second, I'm going to ask you to please check out my new story, Game of Lies. It's not much right now, but it's a work in process. Finally, this chapter is dedicated to ILuvMaFriends15 for becoming my fan. Oh, and one more thing. On the side is a link to the song mentioned in this chapter, 'Safe and Sound'. I apologize to those who aren't that crazy about The Hunger Games or Taylor Swift, but this was the best video I could find. Thanks again, you guys!

Chapter 6: Darkness Falling

As soon as Dad's body hit the ground, I heard a solid 'thump' from somewhere close by. I paid no mind to it, standing as if in a trance and walking right out in the middle of the clearing. I wasn't even in control anymore; it was like my brain had shut off and was letting my legs take over. The Death Eaters didn't seem to notice me. They were all crowded around something in the center of the clearing, murmuring nervously amongst themselves. A small part of me was curious about their strange behavior, but this minuscule part was overruled by the rest of my mind which screamed with grief. The only one who noticed my appearance was Hagrid, who had tears streaming down his face, but he seemed to be too sad to really be curious about me.

In no time at all, I reached the body of my father and knelt down next to him. Gently I lifted his head and cradled him in my arms, the way he used to do to me when I was little and I would get scared. He looked so young and so battered, with his face torn up and his clothes rumpled and dirty. Still, he was vey handsome, and I could see why Mum had fallen for him. Mum . . . what was I going to tell her? And Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione? I wouldn't be able to face them when they found out what had happened to Dad. Tears began to fall again, silently this time, as I stroked the hair away from his forehead and softly sang a lullaby that Mum had sung to me when I was younger.

"Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire / The war outside our door keeps raging on / Hold onto this lullaby / Even when the music's gone / Just close your eyes, the sun is going down / You'll be all right, no one can hurt you now / Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound."

My voice cracked, and I couldn't continue. I brought his face close to mine and, for the second time that night, sobbed. His skin was cold, but there was an underlying warmth that was only just noticable. I couldn't bare it; I'd been too late to save him, and now he was gone forever. That's when I remembered the locket.

Taking it off, I held it in my palm and nearly dropped it. It was warm, hot even, and I knew it wasn't just from my body. I opened it gingerly and gasped. There, sitting where the picture should have been, was a golden light, just like from the memory. It almost seemed like a golden liquid, and yet at the same time it looked more like a cloud of glitter. I could feel the power and warmth radiating from it. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, and I knew immediately that I had stumbled upon a Healing magic more powerful than any in existance. No, 'stumbled' was the wrong term; I'd been given this wonderful gift, and for a reason. Hope filled me as I thought of something. This was very powerful Healing magic, and there had been a reason it had been given specifically to me. Could it be . . . ?

My hand shaking, I tilted the locket and watched the fluid-like light rain down in a shower of sparkles on Dad's chest, in the exact place the curse had hit him. I watched with hope and anxiety as it glowed even more brightly when it touched him, and then vanished altogether as it melted through his shirt and into his skin. It left no trace. I knew that no spell could reawaken the dead, but this was no spell. Besides, it couldn't hurt to try.

Time slowly crawled by. Eventually I became aware of how silent and still it was. Odd. I had been expecting to hear the sounds of rejoicing at Dad's death, but it seemed the Death Eaters had something else in mind. As I listened close, I heard instead whispers and nervous mutterings. The only one who wasn't whispering to the others was the woman with the wild dark hair. She was kneeling by a large blob on the ground, quietly encouraging it to stand up.

"My Lord . . . my Lord . . . my Lord . . ."

"That will do."

The others shuffled backwards as quickly as possible while trying not to fall on top of each other. If I wasn't so grief-stricken, I might have laughed at the spectacle they were making. As they cleared away to the fringes of the clearing, I could see a figure cloaked in black rising slowly to his feet. I shuddered as Voldemort stood up and looked away, hugging Dad close to me.

"My Lord, let me -"

"I do not require assistance," he spat coldly at the woman who had remained at his feet while the others backed away. I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my head as he turned his gaze on me. "The boy . . . is he dead?" No one dared to answer him. After a few moments, he finally spoke again. "You." A loud bang and a small shriek of pain followed. "Examine him. Tell me if he is dead."

A stab of pain shot through me from the middle of my back, and a cry escaped my own lips. "Back away, foolish girl!" he yelled at me. "Let Narcissa examine him!" I turned and glared at him, then turned back to my father again. Stroking his hair one last time, I gently laid his head down on the grass and stood up, allowing myself to be roughly grabbed by two Death Eaters and dragged away.

A woman with long blonde hair and a graceful figure walked hesitantly over to where I had been and began to examine Dad. This must have been Narcissa. I bristled as she touched his face, pulled back one of his eyelids, and reached into his shirt to feel his heart, a strong surge of loathing coursing through me. This was wrong. She shouldn't be touching my father like that. I watched as she bent over him, her hair covering his face. After a few tense moments, her hand contracted on his chest and she stood, turning to face us. Hope filled me again, replacing the anger.

"He is dead!" she called to all of us. As the others cheered and celebrated, despair crashed down on me again and my eyes prickled with tears. I had failed. There was nothing in the world that could save him now. That locket had been my last hope, and I had failed.

Voldemort's shrill voice broke over the tumult. "You see? Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! Crucio!"

I watched in horror as Dad's lifeless body was lifted from the ground and tossed in the air like a doll. All the Death Eaters jeered and laughed, and the two who had been holding me released my arms to applaud the scene and to point at Dad. I wanted desperately to look away - the whole picture was dreadful - but I seemed incapable of doing so. As this was happening, Dad's glasses flew off of his face, and I nimbly caught them as they plummeted towards the ground. Three times Dad was thrown into the air. On the third time, Voldemort cruelly let his body fall with a 'thud'. Tears streamed down my face at this torture, and I shuddered to think what he might have in store later on.

"Now we go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero," Voldemort crowed, looking pleased with himself. Hatred filled me again and tinged my vision so that I was seeing red. "Who shall drag the body? No - wait -"

A fresh burst of laughter erupted from the crowd as Hagrid was set free. The ground shook, and he was brought over to where Voldemort stood triumphantly over Dad.

"You carry him. He will be nice and visible in your arms, will he not? Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. And the glasses - put on the glasses - he must be recognizable -"

One of the Death Eaters who had held me captive now viciously ripped Dad's glasses from my hands and slammed them down on his face with deliberate force. My entire body was now trembling with rage at the cruelty of Voldemort's henchmen. However, Hagrid lifted Dad very gently, shaking from his sobs, cradling him in his arms like a small child. I was touched by Hagrid's kindness, and my heart broke to see his huge tears splash down on Dad's face.

"Move," commanded Voldemort, and we had no choice but to obey.

I stayed directly behind Hagrid as we walked through the forest. Dad's hair and robes kept getting caught on branches and shrubs, and I did my best to keep these out of Hagrid's way. After a while, the forest began to thin, and I could just see the castle in the distance. There was a fluttering noise and a soft pressure on my shoulder, and I turned my head to see Athena perched in her usual spot. I stroked her softly, glad for the familiar feel of her sleek feathers. It comforted me a great deal.

"BANE!" Athena and I both jumped, as did most of the Death Eaters. I turned to see Hagrid, shaking not with sobs but with anger. He was looking murderously at Voldemort, who seemed very in control despite this outburst.

"Happy now, are yeh, that yeh didn't fight, yeh cowardly bunch o' nags? Are yeh happy Harry Potter's - d-dead . . . ?" He couldn't continue as he broke down into fresh tears. My heart ached for him, feeling his pain. He had been a true friend to my Dad right up to the very end, and I put a comforting hand on his arm to let him know that he wasn't alone.

"Stop," came the command, and we all halted. Voldemort sauntered past me, Nagini free from her enchanted cage and around his neck, and walked to the front of the procession.

"Harry Potter is dead," he announced in a magically amplified voice. "He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

Silence fell. My fists were clenched at my sides, and my eyes were squeezed shut. I had never been so angry in my entire life as I was right now. How dare he call my father a coward? Nothing could have been further from the truth, and he knew it.

"Move," came the quiet command, and my eyes opened as we began to march again.

Anxiety filled me again as we drew closer to the castle. What would the others think when they saw Voldemort hadn't been lying? Would they call me a traitor? Would they think that of Dad? My spun as worry after worry chased each other round my mind.

"Harry," sobbed Hagrid quietly, "Oh, Harry . . . Harry . . ."

My own eyes burned with hot tears as I reached out and touched his arm. "I know, Hagrid, I know . . ." He wouldn't know who I was, but he needed someone to comfort him.

We had finally reached the courtyard, and a feeling of dread came over me. I could see by the flickering torchlight those people who were not wounded all on the front steps to see the truth for themselves. Among these warriors were the prominent figures of Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, Mum, Professor McGonagall, Neville, and the rest of the Weasley family. I turned my head from them and focused my attention on Dad's peaceful face.

"NO!!"

The wild-haired woman laughed with evil glee at McGonagall's shrill cry of despair. The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally fell, and I closed my eyes, unable to face them.

"No!"

"NO!"

"Harry! HARRY!"

Uncle Ron, Hermione, and Mum all screamed their protests, followed by the crowd of survivors. They shouted abuse at the Death Eaters, some crying - like I was - for the loss of their hero.

"SILENCE!" shouted Voldemort. A loud bang rang through the courtyard like a clap of thunder, followed by a bright light, then a forced silence.

"It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet where he belongs!"

Hagrid reluctantly obeyed, gently lowering Dad to the ground. Immediately, I knelt down beside him again, closed my eyes and gently grasped his hand. I gasped quietly in surprise; his skin was warmer than the last time I'd held him. And I could feel . . . hatred . . . flowing outwards from him, directed at Voldemort. That wasn't right. He should have been dead. Unless . . .

Voldemort's shrill voice broke through my thoughts, and I could hear him pacing back and forth right in front of where I was. "You see?" he asked the crowd. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" cried Uncle Ron, and a surge of fierce pride flowed towards him. It hadn't been me. The spell broken, the crowd began to shout and scream again until another, more powerful bang silenced them again.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds, killed while trying to save himself -"

"LIAR!"

My eyes snapped open as Voldemort turned slowly to face me, surprised that someone had dared to speak out against him. I leapt to my feet, glaring at the man who had murdered my father, a deep, fierce hatred flowing through me. I didn't care that he was much more powerful than I could ever hope to be. I didn't care that I was just a girl of 17 in a time not her own. I didn't care about the Prophecy. This monster had killed many people I cared about. He was going down by my hand.

"Well, now, who do we have here?" he sneered, trying to cover up his surprise at being caught red-handed. "Weren't you the little girl who stood on the sidelines and watched her hero die without trying to stop him? A fine person to call me a liar, don't you think?" The wild-haired woman cackled, as did the other Death Eaters, as Voldemort walked over and reached out to stroke my cheek. The Death Eaters laughed even harder as I turned my head sharply and bit his fingers. He drew back his hand quickly, his snake-like eyes flashing with anger. I glared right back at him, daring him to see how fierce I could become.

"You're right," I announced as loudly as I could, allowing my voice to carry to the Defenders of Hogwarts. I especially wanted them to hear what I had to say. "I did watch him die. And quite honestly, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But I didn't try to stop him, because he and I both knew it was what he needed to do. I know your secret, and now I'm going to share one with you. You think you've won, but you're wrong. You've lost."

I finished my monologue, and Voldemort just stared at me, completely speechless for once. Another fierce surge of pride and . . . was that love? . . . flowed from the place where my supposedly dead father lay. Suddenly, the silence was broken as a lone figure broke from the throng and charged Voldemort. He never even had a chance; Voldemort flicked his wand almost lazily at him and he flew backwards, Disarmed, and hit the ground. I looked over and saw, to my horror, the figure of Neville Longbottom laying spread-eagle on the ground.

Voldemort cast Neville's wand aside. "And who is this?" he hissed. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

The wild-haired woman cackled evilly again, delighted. "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember." Voldemort watched as Neville struggled to stand. I wanted desperately to help him, but I was frozen in place. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am?" called Neville, his voice proud and brave. His empty hands were curled in fists at his sides.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

Neville merely glared at him. "I'll join you when hell freezes over." He turned to the crowd and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Dumbledore's Army!" The crowd cheered in answer, and I couldn't help but smile. Until I saw Voldemort's face, that is.

Voldemort merely regarded Neville with a calmness that scared me. He spoke again, his voice dangerously silky. "Very well. If that is your choice, Longbottom, then we revert to the original plan. On your head be it." He waved his wand at the Great Hall, and something resembling a misshapen bird flew out from one of the broken windows. No, it was the Sorting Hat. It flew to his hand, and he caught it with ease, shaking it by its pointed end.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

I tensed as Voldemort pointed his wand at Neville, who became as stiff and rigid as a board. Voldemort walked up to him and forced the Hat on his head so that the brim slipped down over his eyes. The crowd moved to help Neville, but they were held at bay by the Death Eaters who raised their wands as one.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to oppose me." Voldemort smiled directly at me, and I gave him the best death glare I had, which was pretty scary. He turned back to Neville, and as I watched, he flicked his wand again. To my horror, the Sorting Hat burst into flames . . . with Neville still inside.