Minerva McGonagall paced back and forth behind the great iron gates of the school, her wand out and a resolute expression on her face. She came from warrior stock, generations of Highlanders that had fought relentlessly against invaders who sought to take their land, their homes, and their lives. Their dauntless courage burned in her blood and she was determined to defend the castle to the death. And not only the castle. Harry was her Gryffindor, her lion cub, and she felt towards him the way she would have a favorite grandson. Severus too held a special place in her heart, though he barely realized it, she had always felt sorry for the lonely boy he had been and even more so for the man, who walked a dangerous solitary path trying to atone for a mistake made long ago. Like Poppy, she had instinctively tried to mother him, though he usually rebuffed her efforts, trying to maintain that stony façade. But Minerva never stopped trying, in small ways, to ease her young colleague’s burden, and now she prayed with all of her being that her two hawks would come safe back to Hogwarts.

She had summoned all of the Order that she could muster on such short notice and was waiting for them to all arrive. Sirius and Remus would be coming, as would Moody and Amelia Bones and Dora Tonks. Molly and Arthur would be there and so would Bill and Charlie. Kingsley Shacklebolt would be there as well and Hagrid was gearing up his crossbow as she paced. She had also, unbeknownst to the other Order members, contacted one other wizard, figuring that he had as great a stake in this operation as any of them, though she knew he would be mistrusted by the majority of the Order. But she was titular head now that Albus had vanished and Severus was away, and it was her decision who she chose to call to arms, she reminded herself. For this, she was almost certain, would be the final battle between the forces of the Light and the Dark for this generation.

She kept her hand upon her wand and her eyes peeled for any sign of the two Animagi or the pack of werewolves led by that beast Greyback. Where are they? They must be close, but I dare not try and contact Severus again with the Amulet. It could throw off his concentration and that might prove fatal.

High above in her tower, the Seer also kept watch, using an old tried and true method, her scrying bowl. While her talent for seeing the future was erratic, Sybill had long ago mastered the art of remote viewing, or scrying, in a bowl of clear water. She had a special round silver basin just for that purpose, and when she wished to, she could scry almost anywhere in the castle and see and hear everything, except when a room was warded against such magic or spells were set in place to prevent anyone from overhearing their conversation. She did not do it often, since the practice usually left her with a splitting headache, but Dumbledore’s letter had left her worried and she felt she needed to know what was going outside her tower. She had tried and failed to scry Albus, she had been blocked by a powerful shielding, but perhaps she could still scry others in the school.

She breathed three times upon the still pool of water and gazed into it, then let her mind drift into a trance state. Show me Minerva McGonagall. Where is she? What is she doing?

There was a brief flash of silvery light and then the water became still and showed her the Deputy Headmistress pacing before the gates, wand out, looking like a warrior queen out of legend, her face set and hard.

As Sybill watched, several blue flashes appeared outside the gates, and Minerva unlocked them to admit the rest of the Order as they Apparated to her.

The Seer’s eyes narrowed. She has summoned the Order here. That cannot be good. Where are Harry and Severus?

The water rippled again and the scene changed.

Now she saw two hawks flying at a rapid pace, accompanied by a snowy owl. Below them raced a pack of slavering werewolves, led by a scarred huge beast whose maw dripped saliva and blood upon the ground and whose eyes burned with a terrible bloodlust. Their howls were horrible to listen to, and Sybill trembled and shook in fear, in spite of the fact that she was safe in her tower.

Oh, Merlin! Fly quickly, my hawks! Don’t let them catch you!

She continued to watch as the goshawk and the redtail put on a fresh burst of speed and soared out of sight of the savage weres for a brief instant.

There came a soft trill and she felt Fawkes settle upon her shoulder and peer into the scrying bowl as well, and together phoenix and Seer observed as events unfolded . . .

* * * * * *

First the Aurors arrived, one after another in such close succession it almost seemed as if they had used a Portkey. Minerva unlocked the gates with a wave of her hand and ushered them inside. Next to come were the Weasleys, Arthur first, then Molly, and their sons. Hagrid came up next, his crossbow cocked and ready, more bolts resting in a quiver upon his belt. His normally genial face was set and hard.

Minerva greeted the Order members tersely, explaining that she was waiting for one other person to show up and hopefully Harry and Severus would be along soon as well.

“Look there! In the sky!” Hagrid called suddenly.

All of the wizards turned and looked where the gamekeeper pointed.

Three black dots drew closer and closer, resolving at last into three raptors flying at top speed. As they drew near, you could make out that one was a snowy owl and the other two were a goshawk and a red-tailed hawk.

Sirius grinned and clapped Remus on the back. “See, Moony? Told you they’d make it here before that rag picking grunge monster.”

But Remus stiffened, for his superior hearing could hear the howls and snarls of the werewolf pack pursuing far in the distance. “They’re not far behind,” he muttered.

“The werewolves?” asked Molly nervously.

Remus nodded, feeling something svage stirring within him. His eyes suddenly shifted from a warm brown to a feral yellow.

“Moony,” Sirius cried.

Remus shook his head. “It’s all right, Siri. I’m fine. Just prepared.”

Moody began ordering the rest of his Aurors to spread out, because all clustered together, they’d be easy targets.

The three raptors dived down, blurring into Harry and Severus as soon as they were beyond the gates. Both Animagi looked exhausted but determined. The howls of pursuit were audible now even to ordinary hearing.

“Harry, are you all right?” Sirius asked, moving over to hug his godson.

Harry nodded wearily, smiling. “Fine, just tired. What are you doing here?”

“Came to help you kick Voldy’s scaly arse back to hell.” Sirius answered.

Harry looked around and saw the rest of the Order members and was glad of the change in numbers for once.

“Well, looks like we’re all here,” Moody began.

“Not quite, Alastor,” Minerva corrected. “There’s one last wizard to arrive.”

“Who?”

The witch drew a deep breath. “Vincent Crabbe, senior. He contacted me yesterday, told me he wanted to be in on anything we planned to do to rescue his son and the others. So I told him to meet me here.”

“You did what?” bellowed Sirius. “Minerva, the man’s a Death Eater!”

“A former one,” Minerva corrected.

“He can’t be trusted!” Sirius argued. “He could betray us at any time. The only good Death Eater is a dead one.”

“How quickly you forget, Black, that a former Death Eater saved you from a life of madness,” Severus drawled pointedly.

Sirius whirled upon him. “That was different.” He glared angrily at Minerva. “How come you invited him without asking the rest of the Order?”

Minerva replied icily, “I was head while Albus and Severus were away, and as such who I recruit is up to me. Vincent Crabbe has as much a stake in defeating Voldemort as we all do. More even. He is a skilled duelist and magesmith.”

“We don’t need his sort—”

“Wrong, Black!” Severus cut him off neatly. “His is the sort we need desperately. What better man to have with you than one who knows the enemy extremely well and can find his weak spots? Don’t be an idiot!”

Sirius glared angrily at the other man. “Shut up, Snape! We don’t need his cowardly spells.”

Severus fastened a look upon the other that should have killed him on the spot. “Crabbe is no coward, Black. No coward would have the stomach to turn his back upon the dark path and return to the light. Do you even realize how hard that is? How every wizard of the Dark will now be hunting him? And people like you spit on him for his change of heart.” The Potions Master sneered angrily. “He has more courage than a thousand Aurors.”

Sirius snorted. “Impossible!”

“It is one thing to contemplate leaving the dark path, another thing to actually do it, and Crabbe has not only done that, he has defied the remaining Death Eaters as well. A crime for which he would be tortured and killed for if the Death Eaters found him. But he puts his son first, and for that you would condemn him? Look to your own soul, Black, before you point a finger at another’s. You’re not perfect either!”

The Potions Master turned about, not trusting his temper, and as he did so, the elder Crabbe appeared outside the gates.

Vincent Crabbe, senior, was not a tall man, but he was stocky with muscle from years working the forge, and his face was lined with worry, but his eyes were bright with determination. He looked at Minerva and said quietly, “I’m here, Minerva, as you wished. Are you going to let me in or not?”

Minerva unlocked the gates, and Crabbe stepped inside.

Sirius made a noise of protest, only to be hushed by Remus’ hand on his shoulder.

“Not now, Padfoot!”

Crabbe looked about at the others, most of whom were giving him looks of distrust or wariness. The large magesmith sighed. “I’m here to help rescue my son and those other kids Malfoy and that bitch Lestrange took. I’m not your enemy.”

“We know that, Vincent,” Severus said, then he moved forward and clasped the other’s hand in a firm grip. “Welcome home . . .brother.” Dark eyes met hazel ones and in them gleamed a shared understanding that only those who had walked the dark road and returned could fathom.

“Thank you, Severus,” was all the former Death Eater said, but in those simple words was a wealth of sincerity and gratitude. He moved to stand next to Severus and Harry, and not one of the others said anything, humbled by the Potions Master’s words.

Severus turned to Harry then and said quietly, “You are to stay back from the weres unless I tell you otherwise. One of us must make certain the hidden object is destroyed, understood?”

Harry flushed. “Severus, I can fight!”

One lean hand clamped down hard on his shoulder. “I am aware of that, Mr. Potter. But we have enough to fight without you involving yourself right away. You stay here with Molly and Arthur, defend yourself if necessary, but under no circumstances are you to attack.”

“But—”

“Obey me, apprentice,” Snape said shortly, his voice hard as iron.

Harry gritted his teeth, then he nodded reluctantly. He did not like Snape’s dictate, but he understood where the other man was coming from. One of them must survive to destroy the last Horcrux and defeat Voldemort. “As you will, sir.” Severus withdrew his hand from Harry’s shoulder. The Animagus looked up at his guardian. “Be careful.”

“Always.”

The howls from the weres were echoing through the trees and Harry squinted sharply and saw the first of the great grey forms bounding along the ground, their clawed paws tearing up clods of earth as they raced towards the gates.

All of the wizards gripped their wands, and Severus blurred into Warrior and flew aloft just as Greyback came into view.

The pack leader was a sight to behold, his fur matted and dripping with saliva and his face was a puckered mess of scars and half-healed wounds from Hedwig’s and the two hawks talons as well the wolfen’s teeth. His yellow eyes glittered with madness and cunning and a burning hate. He drew to a halt at the gates and howled, summoning the rest of his pack to him.

Ten werewolves slunk out of the trees and arranged themselves in a ring behind him, growling and yipping as they caught sight of the wizards.

Greyback sniffed. “I smell you, wizards! Come out, come out wherever you are! Or shall I huff and puff and blow this damned gate down?”

“You’re welcome to try, Greyback!” Minerva said, her wand leveled at his heart.

Greyback laughed. “Run along, old hag, before I crunch your bones into pieces. Give me Snape and Potter and maybe I won’t rip out everyone’s throat.”

“Go bark up a tree!” Tonks called, her merry eyes hard.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Greyback snarled, then he grimaced and shifted, becoming larger and more menacing in an eyeblink, his body cracking and reshaping itself in a series of awful jerks. “Kill them!” he wailed, and then he sprang into the air.

His front paws caught the top of the gate and the wrought iron screeched and buckled as the werewolf began to climb.

The Aurors shot spells at him, but he had summoned the power of his pack to himself, and most of the spells bounced off his hide. He howled mockingly and then his back paws propelled him up and over, to land lightly upon the other side.

“Come on, you spineless worms! Who wants to take me on?”

Sirius had turned into Padfoot, and he growled and sprang at the huge werewolf, attempting to get a throat hold.

But Greyback whirled like lightning and seized the smaller dog by the scruff and threw him across the lawn as easily as one would swat a fly.

Padfoot landed in a heap, the breath knocked out of him.

“Sirius!” Harry yelled, and would have run after him, but Molly grabbed him and drew him back until he was behind the line of Aurors.

Then the other werewolves were scaling the gate and Moody and Shacklebolt were kept busy trying to knock them back down, as were the Weasley brothers. Warrior dove at a were who was almost over, fastening his talons in the wolf’s head.

An inhuman shriek rent the air.

Greyback moved, dodging Minerva’s Transfiguration curse, snapping at her wand hand, causing her to stumble backwards and fall.

Before the werewolf could spring upon her and bite her, Remus yelled, “Hey Greyback, why not try me on for size? She’d barely make a mouthful for you!”

Greyback looked up, teeth bared, to see Remus standing there, his eyes glowing ferally, fur slowly creeping up his arms, as he called forth the change. “So. The pup dares to challenge the alpha. Come, you cringing vomit-licking bastard! Let me finish you off for good and all!”

Remus did not answer, he was too busy trying not to scream as the change swept through him, reshaping muscle and bone. He had taken the Wolfsbane prior to this encounter, knowing he could not afford to lose himself, and so he did not transform into the man-wolf like the other weres. Instead he became a large brown wolf with black tipped ears and tail. But next to the bulky Greyback he appeared no bigger than a yearling German shepherd.

He shook himself and lunged at the bigger were, and his supernatural speed proved swifter than the alpha werewolf’s. His teeth closed upon Greyback’s foreleg, but though he tried, his jaws could not snap the other’s bone. He released his hold, dodging the other’s return snap.

The two circled, snarling, and Remus took stock of his opponent. Greyback was bigger, stronger, and more ruthless. In a pitched fight, he held all the advantages. But there was one thing the cruel werewolf did not have.

Remus’s clever brain.

I can’t outfight the brute, so I’ll have to outsmart him, the slender wolf thought, jumping away from Greyback’s rush. He was filled with hatred for the other were, the evil creature who had stolen away his humanity and his childhood one summer evening for nothing more than spite. But he did not allow the rage to overwhelm him the way he might have. He forced the fury into submission and thought about the best way to defeat the insane creature for good and all.

“That the best you got, Yellowbelly?” he taunted in the language of weres. “You must be getting slow in your old age.”

Greyback roared and sprang at Remus’s throat.

But Remus rolled with the lunge and escaped the great fangs. Then he was on his feet and sprinting across the lawn, preying Greyback would follow.

Greyback’s teeth clicked shut on empty air and he howled in frustration. Damn that skittering coward! He gathered himself and raced after the fleeing wolf. Just wait till I get my fangs into that miserable pup! I’ll teach him the meaning of suffering all right! I’ll rip out his guts and eat his liver raw!

Remus glanced back once to see the crazed werewolf lunging after him, jaws gaping, and black tongue flapping, his eyes burning with a terrible rage. He knew that if Greyback caught him, he would be torn to pieces, and so he used every bit of speed and agility he possessed to make certain he stayed one jump ahead of the savage beast.

Back when he was a student, and the Marauders had accompanied him on the night of the full moon, Remus had rambled all over the grounds, and so had learned the lay of the land so well that he had never forgotten it to this day. He led Greyback up a small rise, pausing to shout an insult over his shoulder before sliding down the other side and behind Hagrid’s hut.

Greyback gnashed his teeth and pursued. “There’s nowhere to run, little wolf! Anywhere you go, I shall find you and when I do, you will die a coward’s death!”

Remus gave two short yips, making it seem as if he were hiding to the left of where he actually was.

He heard Greyback plung into the undergrowth that was Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, snarling.

Remus smirked, his mouth lolling wide. He fell for it! Now to get a head start on my true destination.

He began to trot swiftly away from the hut and to the southwest, moving quickly but not in an all out sprint as he had before. He had to conserve his strength, for he would need every bit of it to pull off the trick he had in mind. James, old friend, you’d be proud of this one.

He kept an ear cocked back, listening for sounds of his enemy.

Soon . . .soon . . .Come on, Greyback, you dumb bastard . . .use the bloody eyes and nose the devil gave you . . .

He was halfway to the knoll when Greyback spotted him.

Arrr-o-o-o! Arr-o-o-o!

Greyback’s enraged howl filled the air.

Remus picked up his pace, half-running now. Almost there.

Not too fast now. He musn’t spot the trap until it’s too late. But he mustn’t catch me either.

Greyback was coming in huge leaps, his hindlegs driving him over the lawn with a terrible swiftness, faster than any normal animal could run. His eyes were bloodred coals and his howls made Remus tremble, though he was immune to the fear they engendered.

Remus ran, circling the knoll where a certain tree stood, bleak and stark against the sky. No wind stirred its branches, but as the werewolf approached, they began to wave in warning.

Remus growled and trotted up the rise standing just out of range.

Greyback, maddened by bloodlust, charged blindly after the smaller wolf, straight at Remus he lunged, howling a battle cry.

Remus waited, moving aside at the last second.

Greyback’s teeth snapped shut on his paw, but he tore free, yelping.

He stumbled, hitting the ground on his shoulder and rolling, ignoring the burning pain in his right hind foot.

There was a sharp swish and a whistling sound, then a THUMP!

Greyback cried out and scrabbled away, only to find that there was no escape from the angry Whomping Willow, which was furious at the intruders who had dared to wake it from its sleep. More branches, these the size of clubs and bristling with wooden spurs, shot down at the werewolf.

Greyback tried to duck and run, but the Willow was very quick, and it slashed at the were’s face, making him jump backward, only to catch a club branch on the back.

The force of the blow hammered the werewolf down flat, and he screeched as his paws went out from under him. He struggled to get to his feet, but was not swift enough to do so before five other branches struck in succession.

One hit him hard in the side and broke several ribs, and the others targeted his vulnerable back and head. Unable to move, Greyback tried to bite the branches, but even his formidable jaws proved no match for the magical tree, and soon the werewolf lay still under the onslaught.

Remus managed to slip between two branches and crawl away before the tree sensed him, and he stood upon three legs, trembling with fatigue and pain. Behind him, he could hear the sharp thumps and swishes as the tree pummeled the offending werewolf. He knew he should have felt sickened, but all he felt was a sudden rush of satisfaction. The demon of his nightmares was dead, killed by a clever trick. Lupin shook his head and looked back over his shoulder.

The Whomping Willow now stood tall against the sky, its branches upright once more, standing sentinel against all comers.

Lupin gave a sniff, and wrinkled his nose at the rank smell of death. He threw back his head and howled a victory cry. Goodbye, Fenrir Greyback. That’s what you get for trying to kill a Marauder.

Head held high, Lupin started back down the knoll towards the others, limping slightly upon his torn paw.

Back at the front gates, the wizards threw everything they had at the advancing werewolves. Spells flew thick and fast, were deflected and dodged, and the yelps and howls of the stricken weres mingled with the curses and hexes and cries of the Aurors.

Padfoot staggered to his feet soon after Remus challenged Greyback and went to help Tonks, who was surrounded by two smaller werewolves. These two were more of a size with the Animagus, and he happily tore into one of them while Tonks took down the other with a well-placed Conjunctivitis Curse.

Off to one side, Moody spat silver spikes from his wand and nailed another werewolf. That one died almost instantly when the silver pierced its heart.

Shacklebolt finished off the werewolf Warrior had attacked, and Hagrid shot another through the throat as it sprang at McGonagall.

“All righ’, Minerva?”

“I am unhurt, Hagrid,” Minerva called back, pale but undaunted.

Harry found himself pushed behind Molly and Arthur, and he scowled and gripped his wand in a fist, wishing he dared disobey his guardian and fight as he longed to. They had made a good accounting, but the weres were many and they did not die easily.

Five more had climbed over the gate since the initial ones and Harry saw one creeping up on Padfoot as he subdued the one who had attacked Tonks. “Sirius! Look out!”

Sirius whirled, but would have been too late to avoid the lunging grey beast, had not a Lightning Bolt Curse struck the werewolf and sent it flying. He looked up to see who had cast it and saw Crabbe standing there, his wand still crackling with magical electricity. “Nasty bugger. That ought to do him.” Then he nodded at Sirius before turning away to fight another wolf.

Padfoot wore a startled expression on his face, and Harry nearly laughed aloud. See, you should never judge a book by its cover, Sirius.

The battle could have gone on for several more minutes, but Greyback’s sudden death was felt by all of his pack, and it sent them into pandemonium.

One by one, they cringed and fled, some of them into the Forbidden Forest and others across the grounds, demoralized and frightened. The Aurors went to pursue, but Moody called them back. “Wait. They could turn on ye if you go after them alone. We’ll hunt ‘em down later on. Anybody hurt?”

The wizards inspected themselves.

Minerva had torn robes but was not hurt. Several others had bruises but no one had been bitten or scratched save Remus, who came limping up soon after the rest of the werewolves had fled.

Sirius had transformed back and caught sight of his friend. “Remus! What happened to your paw?”

Remus whuffed softly and lay down, his body aching and throbbing from the fight.

“Let me see, Lupin,” Severus said, removing his potions kit from his pack and going over to the werewolf.

“Can you fix him, Snape?” asked Sirius.

“If you’ll get out of my way, Black, I can work better,” said the other shortly, kneeling beside the bleeding wolf. “Hold still, Lupin. And don’t even think about biting me.”

Remus panted and thumped his tail gently, his amber eyes gleaming.

Severus gently took the bitten paw and examined it. “Not as bad as I thought.” He disinfected the gash with the purple antiseptic potion, then intoned a quick healing charm. The gash sealed itself closed. “There. It might be a bit sore, but it’s healed.”

Snape rose, tucking the potions kit away.

Remus whined and then writhed upon the ground before becoming a man once more.

He stood gingerly, dusting himself off, then smiled at Severus. “Thank you.”

Snape shrugged. “For what? You’re of no use to us hurt.”

“Still, I owe you one,” Lupin said.

“Greyback is dead?” Severus asked.

Lupin nodded, his face grim.

“Good work, Auror Lupin!” Moody congratulated him. “One less piece of trash to worry about.”

“I think we should all get back to the castle,” Minerva said, and the others all agreed.

Harry turned to follow Molly and Arthur, but not before he saw Sirius pause beside Crabbe and mutter a thank you to the ex-Death Eater. He hid a smile. Guess you can teach an old dog new tricks after all.

He hurried after the Weasleys, and had almost reached the castle stairs when he heard a soft voice hissing from beneath a rose bush.

Sss-hiss! Little s-s-nake s-speaker, I would have a word with you!

Harry froze, then he turned and knelt beside the rose bush. Who calls-s-s?

It is I, Veraldesssheen-sla-Mori, S-s-serpent Brother.

Vera! What are you doing here? He held out his arm and the green snake shot out from beneath the bush and coiled about his wrist.

“Harry, what in seven hells are you doing?” demanded Snape crossly, coming up to see what his ward was doing crouching in the dirt.

Harry stood up. “Look, Sev, it’s Vera, Vince’s familiar.”

Severus’s eyebrows shot up. “How did she get over here?”

“I don’t know. Let me ask her.” Harry said, then turned to the viridian boa, hissing in Parseltongue. How did you come here, Vera?

The boa lifted her head and stared at him, her tongue flickering in and out. Lis-s-s-ten, brother-in-scales . . .I came in the pocket of my wizard. He is-s-s trapped beneath the earth, in a s-s-tone room, along with others. His-s-s-s. He s-s-ent me to s-s-how you the way . . .