Hogwarts was in flames.

It was nothing like Gene had ever seen before. She watched as students and staff fought shoulder to shoulder, protecting what was left of their school, their home, from the onslaught of Death Eaters.

She saw Padma and Parvati, back to back with Neville and Seamus, while Professor Sprout and Kingsley stood around then, casting their spells and sending the opposition flying backwards.

Gene let Ron lead her, his hand firmly gripped onto her own as they dodged and dived from the incoming curses, hearing a few Unforgivable curses being thrown their way. They began toward the courtyard, though Gene had caught sight of a Death Eater hidden behind a broken pillar, shooting jets of red light at them.

"Carpe Retractum!" she cried, and the Death Eater flew toward them at a hurtling speed, but before Ron could yell at her, "Confringo!"

She casted the spell at the Death Eater and she caught a glimpse of the horrified look on his face before he was suddenly thrown backwards into the night as fast as he came, blasted away by her spell.

"Wow." Ron muttered, before they were forced to run from their place, further into the courtyard.

They continued to dash through the madness, looking around hurriedly for an escape when Gene saw it; Lavender Brown's lifeless eyes, fixed where she stood and she felt her entire stomach lurch with nausea as Greyback's head lifted, his lips curling into a wicked smile, still glistening with her blood.

"Everte Statum!" Gene cried, feeling hot tears skim past her cheek as Greyback took the deafening blast to the chest, the stone behind him crumbling as he hurdled through it.

Gene lingered for a moment, her eyes not leaving Lavender's own, and she could barely let herself cry before she felt Hermione tugging at her wrist, and she had no choice but to follow. They raced away from the castle, burning and trembling with explosions and flames that did their best to swallow it whole, but the castle seemed to be holding its own.

In the distance, part of the forest burned, the trees shedding red sparks into the sky like scarlet feathers. Screams filled Gene's ears until a thunderous shockwave sent her staggering backwards. A giant lurched into view, its foot seemingly the size of one of the corridors, nearly trampled Gene. It began to swing one of the Quidditch goals onto them, the golden ring dripping with blood.

As it swung at them, the force of the throw caused blood to splatter their skin, but the giant had missed them, very narrowly. It groaned in anger and just as it went to swing for them once more, they had sought refuge behind a large shield, welded into the ground.

They ran forward, toward the long bridge at the head of the school, only for a dangerously familiar chill to overwhelm them. Gene lifted her arm to shield her face from the biting cold, catching only a glimpse of the Dementors that hastened toward them, only to be blasted away by a silvery shield of blue light.

Gene turned to find the source of it, looking into the eyes of Aberforth Dumbledore. He gave her a curt nod, and she managed to return it, utterly grateful, in ways that words were likely to have failed her.

She followed Harry as they bolted down the steps of the cliff, heading toward the boat house, a place in which Gene had not been since her very first year at Hogwarts.

They darted forward, moving quietly through the eerie light, before stopping within the safety of the shadows. They were crouched behind a plane of glass, pressed closely to one another. Gene could make out Voldemort's long, white fingers wrapped around the Elder Wand. In the mercurial light, he almost looked like a living thing.

"Why doesn't it work for me?" she heard Voldemort's cold voice speak.

"You have performed extraordinary magic with this wand, my Lord. In the last few hours alone–" Snape spoke now, and Gene flinched, as he was stood only on the other side of the glass.

"No! I am extraordinary! But the wand resists me!" Voldemort cried, and she felt him grow agitated.

"There is no wand more powerful. Ollivander himself said it. Tonight, when the boy comes to you, it will not fail you, I am sure. It answers to you and you only." Snape assured him.

But there was a twitch in Voldemort's demeanour. Something... disbelieving.

"Does it?"

A palpable silence followed.

"My Lord?" Snape said.

"The wand. Does it truly answer to me?" Voldemort asked.

Snape didn't say a word. Through the glass, Gene could see that for a moment, he and Voldemort stood perfectly still, two faces in the darkness, the only sound the lapping of the lake and the distant explosions, muffled from inside the boat house, and so far from the destruction.

"Where, Severus? Where does its loyalty lie?"

"With you, of course, my Lord." Snape said, without missing a beat.

While Gene could make out the blurred shadow of Snape's hands being wrung behind his back nervously, she could tell he thought he was speaking the truth. But Gene felt another agitated twitch in her scar, and she winced.

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master." Voldemort said.

Gene's breath caught in her throat, as she realised exactly why Voldemort had summoned Snape that night. She knew that to kill would not earn the allegiance of a wand. Gene had learnt that from Ollivander.

"You killed Dumbledore, Severus. While you live, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."

"My Lord–" Snape began.

"You have been a good and faithful servant, Severus." Voldemort said coolly, "But only I can live forever."

Gene swallowed thickly, her throat hoarse and it hurt as much as her scar did as it began to pulse, beneath the surface. He was readying himself, aiming, and–

"Kill."

A sickening scream filled the air.

Gene had to hold her hand to her mouth to swallow her own scream as a body was flung against the glass, shuddering with the impact. Blood sprayed across it as it trembled again, and again, with each strike. Finally, she heard the satisfied hiss of Nagini before a crack sounded in the air. They were gone.

Harry rushed forward first, into the strange, wavering light, and Gene followed him before she was pulled to a stop, gasping in horror as she watched the scarlet liquid trail over the weathered boards, right at her feet.

Gene didn't think twice before kneeling at Snape's side, and her vision blurred with tears as she watched his fingers press to the bloody wound at his neck. She reached forward, possessed by grief or something close to it as she took his hand away, pressing her own to the wound, but it was no use.

Then, he took her hand with his own, shaking madly as he brought her blood-stained hand to his chest, and it lay over his and she let it stay there. He shifted his head to face Harry, though not without some struggle, before he looked deeply into Harry's eyes, grasping the front of his robes.

And then, Snape began to cry.

His face shuddered softly as his tears transformed from a clear water to a familiar silvery blue. She had seen it before.

"Take them." Snape's voice rasped in his throat, gurgling as he fought against the blood that filled his airways.

Gene managed to compose herself, but only for a moment as she conjured a flask from thin air, passing it to Harry with a shaky hand. Harry blinked back his shock, pressing the flask to Snape's red-stained cheek, letting the fluid flow to the brim, his hands trembling as he pulled away.

"Look at me."

Snape whispered, and Harry began to search his face, deciphering his words as he stared at him in wonder, almost lost in his eyes. But his hold on Harry's front slackened, and his head fell limply against the plane of glass.

He was gone.

The sound of a gathering storm had suddenly engulfed them. The boat house began to groan, as though it was being torn apart, trembling in agony and Gene hissed in pain.

"You have fought valiantly, but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste." he spoke to Hogwarts, and everyone that had taken part in the fight, it seemed. "I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured." he instructed them.

A moment of silence followed, but he soon continued, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the boat house.

"Genevieve Fiordalis. Harry Potter." he spoke their names indignantly, "I speak now directly to you. On this night you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonour. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest for you to confront your fate. Should you do so, I give my word that no other life will be lost on this night. You have one hour. If, at the end of that time, you have not given yourself up, then I shall punish every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me. I will find you. One hour."

He had finished speaking, and the life had seemed to return to the boat house; the joists trembling one last time and the ambient sounds of the night returned. They watched the sky as the clouds separated, the sky was no longer dark or looming with threats of Death Eaters or Dementors. They were just clouds.

"No." Ron said immediately, as both him and Hermione shook their heads in refusal.

Gene stood to her feet shakily, unable to tear her eyes from her scarlet hands, stained with Snape's blood. They wavered before her, until Ron had taken them both in his hands, and all feelings of terror began to ebb away.

"Let's go back to the castle." Hermione said hurriedly. "We'll come up with a new plan." she nodded.

They climbed the stone steps, not as eagerly as they might have three years ago, perhaps returning from a tea from Hagrid's, if things had remained as simple as they once were.

They could see that the castle was deserted. The flagstone was stained with blood, wands broken and littered across the grounds as they stared on, a heaviness in their hearts.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione asked aloud.

Gene felt a sudden lurch in her stomach as she rushed forward first, pulling away from Ron's hold, pushing into the Great Hall.

It was almost unrecognisable. The grand tables were pushed to the walls, making room for the injured, sat in groups, their arms slung over one another as they waited to be treated by Madam Pomfrey. Filch slumped against the wall, his arm gushing blood, grumbling under his breath. Slughorn tended to Flitwick, whose face was laced with gashes, pressing a hand to his thigh.

It was as though some sort of invisible force stood between Gene and the rest of the room, preventing her from stepping any closer. Her face was blank, a complete mask as she stared at the dead, all laid out in the middle of the Hall, trying to spot her loved ones, as macabre as it seemed.

And there they lay, Lupin and Tonks, their blood-stained fingers clumsily intertwined, as though they had passed on hand-in-hand. It made her stomach turn, the knife in her heart twisting further as she staggered forward, possessed by something to approach them. Grief or regret, but mostly, it was guilt.

"No!" she cried.

Gene fell to her knees at their feet. Her lips parted as she tried to say something, anything, though she didn't know who she was speaking to. They were dead. Gone. Their lives cut short, because of her, in a sick sort of way.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, her bottom lip trembling as she bowed her head, "I'm so sorry."

Her entire body shook as she cried, murmuring apologies over and over again under her breath. She couldn't quite bring herself to look at their faces again. Faces that would never again, see the light of day. See the sun rise or set.

See their son.

"Where is she?" a voice boomed.

It wavered, as though she had been crying, but it garnered the attention of everyone in the room, as the doors to the Great Hall burst open.

Gene looked up, her breath caught in her throat as she blinked back the hot tears that poured down her cheeks, finding Aurelia approaching, and she guiltily felt the relief swarm her. Only, her eyes drifted to the body that was draped in her arms.