Running AIAOY 7

Chapter 13

"I saw Rowena Ravenclaw."  Rebecca interrupted the quiet that formed as they prepared to leave the island.  "The last horcrux, it's somewhere in the castle."

"Is that who that was?"  Harry asked.

"Yes."  Rebecca glanced at Hermione.  "Hogwarts: A History was open a lot in our room."

"We can't just go to Hogwarts.  Especially not after considering the protections on the castle.  We've got to plan, we have to figure it out and-"

"Hermione, when have any of our plans actually worked?"  Harry snapped.  Lightening his tone, knowing that none of them had done anything to deserve it, he continued.  "We plan, we get there, all hell breaks loose.  We just need to go."

"Snape's headmaster now."  Ron said.  "We can't just walk through the front door."

"We don't have to."  Rebecca went to one knee and tied her shoes, looking up at the group over the rim of her glasses.  "There are tunnels all throughout Hogsmeade, one right under Honeyduke's.  And that's just the one that Harry's used before--there are plenty more hidden ways."

Harry agreed while scratching at his head.  It wasn't itchy, his brain prickled as Rebecca's did.  "There's something wrong with him.  In the past..."  He let his hand fall to his side.  "in the past, we've always been able to follow his thoughts.  Things are changing."

"Disconnecting."  Rebecca said, tucking her locket back into her shirt as she stood.  The metal was cool on her skin, but it reminded her of the finality of what they were moving towards.  The end was coming, whether it be theirs of Voldemort's...that was still to be decided.

"Maybe it's the horcruxes."  Ron offered assuringly, frightened by the despair on both Harry and Rebecca's faces.  "Maybe he's dying."

"I think he's wounded."  Harry said after a long pause.  "He's-It feels like he's more dangerous, if anything."

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The floor of Gringotts, the very floor that had been lit by the light shining through the crystal chandeliers forged and pieced together by goblins of eons past, lay sodden with blood.  Goblins and security guards littered the puddles around Voldemort's bare feet as he walked, Nagini at his side.  Her tongue darted out of her mouth, tasting the metallic scents in the air.

"They discovered our secret, Nagini."  

Lucius and Narcissa stood at the front of the room, grateful to have been spared from the massacre and lost as to what the Dark Lord was saying.

"It makes us vulnerable.  You, my friend, must stay close."  

Griphook lay at the front of the room, the closest to the exit.  He had his hand on the door when Voldemort sent the first blast.  The sword in his hand--the sword he had betrayed for--disappeared from his grip.  It shone in the shadows of death before returning to its waiting place.

Voldemort turned and faced his troops, deciding.  The time had come.

They were going to squash the last vestiges of resistance against them.

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Hogsmeade was as silent as a crypt, and just as lively.  Snow piled around its cobblestone walkways and walls from Christmas weeks earlier.  Minimal lights shone throughout the village.