69- Connect the Dots

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Pulling at Harry's sleeve, I tried my hardest to make him stand and get away from the dead body. It was difficult to do until a sudden high, cold voice spoke so close to us that he jumped to our feet— I held out my wand as Harry held the flask gripped tightly in his hands, holding onto me tightly.

Voldemort's voice reverberated from the walls and floor, talking to Hogwarts and to all the surrounding area, that the residents of Hogsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle would hear him as clearly as if he stood beside us, his breath on the back of our necks, a deathblow away.

"You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilt is a loss and a waste.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.

"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

"Don't listen to him," I seethed. "He's lying."

Both Ron and Hermione shook their heads frantically, looking at Harry.

"It'll be all right," said Hermione wildly. "Let's — let's get back to the castle, if he's gone to the forest we'll need to think of a new plan —"

Hermione glanced at his body, then pulled me away, back to the tunnel entrance. Ron followed us, then Harry. Hermione led the way through the tunnel, in silence, only the sound of us crawling could be heard.

Small bundles seemed to litter the lawn at the front of the castle. It could only be an hour or so from dawn, yet it was pitch-black. The four of us hurried toward the stone steps. A lone clog, the size of a small boat, lay abandoned in front of them. There was no other sign of Grawp or of his attacker.

The castle was unnaturally silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of the deserted entrance hall were stained with blood. Emeralds were still scattered all over the floor, along with pieces of marble and splintered wood. Part of the bannisters had been blown away.

"Where is everyone?" whispered Hermione.

Ron led the way to the Great Hall. I stopped in the doorway with Harry.

The House tables were gone and the room was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated upon the raised platform by Madam Pomfrey and a group of helpers. Firenze was amongst the injured; his flank poured blood and he shook where he lay, unable to stand.

Mrs Weasley noticed our presence and quickly rushed over to Ron, giving him hugs and kisses. Hermione continued to walk in, but Harry and I stayed at the door, hand-in-hand.

I heard Hermione gasp and I looked over to where she had gone. Hermione was standing next to Ginny, whose face was swollen and blotchy; Ron had run over and was crying into Bill's shoulder as he stood next to Fleur and Percy; Mr. Weasley stood stiff, tears running down his face with his hand clasped over his mouth in shock. As Ginny and Hermione moved closer to the group, I had a clear view of the bodies they huddled around: Fred Weasley, Remus, and Tonks, pale and still and peaceful-looking apparently asleep beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling.

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