The Brightest Black

Fred spun his broom, wand at the ready, only to find no one to attack. All that lay below him in the road were dead bodies. He spotted a few broomsticks among them, but a quick scan of the air around him showed that his brothers and Diggory were still there, hovering nearby. There were a few other Order members still on brooms, but they were moving away, heading once more towards the castle.

"Everyone alright?" Diggory asked.

"My broom is a bit singed, but otherwise, I'm fine," Fred said, feeling Skeeter scurrying around under his collar, likely gathering as much information as she could.

"I'm a bit singed," Charlie held up his left hand, showing a nasty burn, "but nothing compared to what that Horntail did to me last month."

"Nothing touched me, what about you Diggory?" Bill asked, rising up over the tops of the trees and looking around.

"I'm good, though I don't think I can ever wear these robes again." He held out his cloak, showing long tears in it.

"I can still see more fighting, up by the gates," Bill called down. "Let's go if everyone is good."

Everyone was, so they quickly moved out, reaching the gates in a matter of minutes. What they saw made Fred's stomach churn.

There were a few Death Eaters still standing, but they were not attacking the Order members. No, all of them were now focused on the giant spiders quickly pouring out of the trees, obviously drawn by all of the commotion. As Fred watched one spider, the size of a large dog, leapt onto the back of a Death Eater, driving it's fangs into the man's shoulders as he screamed.

A flash of silver caught his eyes and he saw Mrs. Malfoy, silver shield raised, fighting off a large spider. Alianore was at her back and casting fire spell after fire spell at the incoming swarms of little, mice sized spiders.

"BURN THEM!"

The shout, followed by a burst of flames drew Fred's attention. Padfoot was back-to-back with Mrs. Longbottom and they were intent on lighting the entire forest on fire it appeared.

"Let's go!" Bill shouted, swinging his broom down and casting a reducto at a new wave of spiders pouring in out of the forest.

Diggory and Charlie flew after Bill, casting their own spells, alternating between fire and blasts.

Fred threw his own spells, racing over the sea of spiders and fighting the urge to be sick. He wasn't as terrified of spiders as Ron, but he still had nightmares over the image of a teddy bear sized spider crawling over his baby brother.

That little bit of magic had been courtesy of George. Fred would have made a worm or something equally gross that wasn't quite so able to attack and kill people. One of the few times he had been upset at his brother. Especially as their mother had blamed both of them equally.

It wasn't enough, even with all the fire and blasts, the spiders still kept coming. Every death seemed to enrage the creatures even more. Over their screams and the sounds of spells being fired a new sound came to Fred's ears.

Something was coming through the trees

Something big.

He swung into a curve, blowing up a spider as it tried to leap on Tonks and Mooney. He could feel his thighs start to shake, he hadn't spent this long on a broom since he'd left Hogwarts last year.

CRASH!

The sound drew his attention, as it did everyone else's.

The sight chilled him to the bone.

There, on the edge of the woods, stood the largest spider Fred had ever seen. It's eyes were milky white and it was the size of an elephant. Scurrying around it's feet were even more small spiders, chittering and leading the monstrous spider.

"Leave my children alone," the spider said, its pincers clicking as it continued moving forwards.

"Fuck," Fred whispered.

"Your children started this!" Padfoot bellowed. "Tell them to leave US alone! We have no quarrel with you!"

"Wait," the spider said, coming to a stop on the edge of the road.

Instantly all of the spiders pulled back, moving away from those they had been attacking. Fred felt bile rise in his throat at the now visible bodies. All of them frozen from poison and turning nasty colors.

"Will you withdraw?" Mrs. Longbottom asked, her wand still held at the ready.

"My children had no knowledge of fire. No true knowledge of humans, for Hagrid is not typical of your species. Our home was disturbed and they came seeking out the disturbance. We will withdraw, especially with what is loose in the castle, but my children are hungry. I ask that we may take the bodies of those we have already felled. You may have our own dead. I know that you humans prize our venom."

Fred clenched his broom tightly. Padfoot couldn't agree to this. He couldn't let the giant talking spiders eat the dead witches and wizards. He was carefully not looking at the faces of the fallen, but that was simply because he knew he would recognize too many of them. It only took a search of those still standing to see just how many weren't there. Names flashed through his mind, but he shut them down. Thinking of death would not help those he loved that still lived. Nor would letting the spiders take their dead, it just wasn't right.

Padfoot let out a harsh bark of laughter. "You want us to let you take our dead?"

"Of course. It is only fair," the elephant-sized spider said, his pincers moving rapidly, as if he wanted to reach out and bit Padfoot.

Padfoot looked around the body littered road and then up in the air at all the wizards and witches on broomsticks. For an instant his eyes met Fred's, then they shot down to the drawstring bag hanging from his belt. One eyebrow went up, clearly offering a question that only one prankster would ask another.

Fred knew that look well. He'd seen it quite often on George's face. Though, usually then it was followed by a mental question.

He quirked his lips and winked, reaching down into his pouch, calling a small box marked with a red circle into his hand.

Padfoot's head barely moved, the nod of acknowledgement was so small. He turned back around to face the king of all spiders.

"It may be fair to you, but not to us. So, my answer is no. Retreat now, or die."

The many spiders began chittering angrily, bristling at the human's ultimatum.

"Merlin damn it, Padfoot! Just let them have the bodies! Our children are in the castle with the Dark Lord!" Mrs. Malfoy hissed, her voice just barely visible to Fred, now hovering above them.

"And what if it was our children lying here? Among the dead?" Padfoot hissed back, not letting his gaze waver from the spiders.

Mrs. Malfoy opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the King of Spiders.

"My children are hungry. You have awoken that which we fear most. We will slay you all and take your bodies to feast on as we journey far away from the Monster of Hogwarts. Goodbye, little humans."

The great spider moved with remarkable speed, raising itself up and firing a glob of sticky web right at Alianore and Mrs. Longbottom just as the rest of the spiders charged as one.

Spells erupted everywhere, throwing bursts of flames high into the air, but Fred ignored it all. He yanked the box out of his bag and leaned low over his broom speeding forwards, dropping the box into the bubbling sea of spiders pouring from around the giant spider's legs.

The box fell, and before it disappeared from view he raised his wand and cast the unlocking spell.

The earth rose up under the box, sending spiders tumbling as it widened and opened, accepting the box into its gaping maw.

The box disappeared, but Fred didn't wait to watch, he spun his broom around and raced away, reaching blindly into his bag and pulling out one of his many bags of powders. He sprinkled it as he flew over the King of Spiders, coating him in fine dust that, with the application of heat, would grow in weight.

The mountain of earth behind him gave a loud belch, followed by a cloud of smoke and ashes. The spiders paid it no mind, but Fred could see the humans backing up, fighting spiders as they went.

A flash of silver moving in the wrong direction caught his eye.

"NO!"

Padfoot's shout was barely heard over the sound of spells, but Fred zeroed in on it. Seeing Diggory do the same. As he grew closer the mountain became more of a volcano, spewing out hot rocks as lava began to flow down it's side. Nearby spiders began to scream in pain.

But Fred wasn't watching the last project he'd been working on George with. He didn't really care at the moment about its success. All he had wanted was something that would help end this battle with the spiders without any more deaths.

No, he was watching Mrs. Malfoy hold off spiders as Padfoot tried to cut sticky web off of two figures lying at her feet.

He landed on the ground with a thunk. " REDUCTO !"

Spiders flew into the air, falling in the lava that was now pouring down the side of the volcano.

"We have to go!"

"I know that!" Padfoot bit out, sawing through the web.

Fred pulled a potion vial out of his drawstring bag and sprinkled it over the web, watching as the glue dissolved, the spider silk falling away in waves. Revealing Mrs. Longbottom and Alianore lying there.

Fred's heart lurched as he saw that they were unmoving. They had either suffocated or been bitten.

He doubted they were even alive.

The older man began shoving the silk away until he could pick up Alianore. He looked up at Fred. "What are you waiting for! Grab Alice!"

Diggory landed beside Fred, his wand moving as he spun around in a circle, a wall of flames quickly encircling them all. Holding back the spiders, but not the oncoming lava.

Mrs. Malfoy lowered her shield and stepped back.

"Sirius-"

"NO! They're not dead! There's an antidote!"

Tears were streaking down the older man's face and Fred looked way. His own grief too near the surface for him to face someone else's.

"Mr. Black, I don't think there's an antidote." Diggory said calmly, kneeling down and putting a hand on Sirius' shoulder.

"Sirius. I don't think they were bitten. Look at their faces. They suffocated. We need to go. Our children need us. Alice's son needs us. Alianore's old students need us," Narcissa said as she came up to wrap an arm around Padfoot. "Hermione and Harry need you. There are monsters after them."

The older man let out a gut-wrenching sob, cradling the red-headed woman close. He leaned down, kissing that still cheek and then laid her back on the ground. He stared down at her for a moment, then over at Mrs. Longbottom. When he looked up his face was as if it was carved from stone and there was fire burning in his eyes.

"You're right. Let's go." He looked at Fred, "Mind giving me a lift out of here? Diggory can you fly Narcissa out?"

"Yes, sir," the two younger men chorused.

Skeeter scurried around under Fred's collar, but didn't reveal herself as Padfoot mounted the broom behind Fred.

"Wait. Let them go first."

Fred stood up a bit and watched as Mrs. Malfoy mounted the broom behind Diggory. The two of them leapt into the air and disappeared into the smoke-filled night sky.

Padfoot raised his wand cast a spell Fred didn't recognize, but it's meaning was clear. A dome of light covered the two bodies for a second before washing down and around them, covering them in a shiny light.

A preservation charm.

They pushed off from the ground just as the lava came spilling over the circle of flames that Diggory had created, washing over the glittering bodies and hiding them from view as they rose into the air.

The screams of spiders were all that filled the air now. All of the surviving people having long fled, apparated out now that it was certain that the spiders could not join the battle on the castle grounds.

"NO!" the King of Spiders screamed as he watched his children burn. He seemed to know that he could not escape either. The volcano was now spewing lava even faster, creating a molten lake that was quickly encircling the giant spider. He spun in place, scurrying as fast as his large body would let him.

"Hold."

Fred had been about to send them speeding towards the castle, he didn't really want to watch a giant, sentient spider die, but clearly Padfoot did.

"I don't-"

"If you could watch the dementor that kissed George die, wouldn't you?"

Fred snapped his mouth shut. Thrown by this question. Could he? Could he take pleasure in watching the creature die that had killed his other half?

Was that even a fair question? As far as he knew, it was almost impossible to kill a dementor.

The spider let out a scream as the lava touched its long legs.

That made up his mind.

He raised his wand and cast the spell to deactivate the volcano, the heat would kill the spider soon enough. Then he spun the broom and aimed it directly at the Castle, Skeeter moved under his collar. It felt like she was burrowing into the cloth, as if trying to block out the screams.

Fred wished he could join her.

He leaned over, speeding off towards the Castle and distant spellcasting. Ignoring Padfoot's orders to turn back.

There was no point in avenging the dead. It was much better to protect the living.

XXX

Ginny's heart was pounding so hard in her ears that she barely heard the sound of scales moving across stone. It was all she could do not to cry as she gripped her wand tightly and did nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

How could this be happening?

How could it be right for her to stand there and do nothing?

No! She had to-

Loud hissing cut off her thoughts and her breath caught in her throat, her eyes glued to the tapestry over her hiding place. She didn't dare move. Didn't dare breathe.

The hissing ended, but the sounds that came next were even worse. A sharp, high-pitched laugh pierced the tapestry, bouncing around in the stones surrounding her.

"What is it, My Lord?" The voice was feminine, even girly, and made the hairs on the back of Ginny's neck stand on end.

"Potter. He is fleeing my pet here. We shall deal with him."

"We, My Lord?" A male voice asked.

"Yes, my pets and I. We are all that is needed to deal with a boy who has just run out of luck."

"Then what should we do, my lord?" the woman asked again.

"I care not. Though I do wonder what has become of my reinforcements. I want Hogwarts in our control by dawn. Understood?"

The man and the woman quickly said, "Yes, my lord."

There was a swish of robes, followed by more slithering, and Ginny slowly released her breath. Only to sharply inhale again upon hearing the woman speak once more.

"Where is Kevan?"

"He said something about unsettled family business."

"Ah," the woman said, the sound almost a moan of pleasure. "If he is dealing with family business, why don't we copy him? I am sure the mudblood brat must be here somewhere."

"Indeed, she should not be far from Potter."

The woman laughed a bit and, thankfully, the laughter grew more distant as the two of them walked off.

Ginny counted to fifty and then slowly raised the tapestry with her wand raised.

The corridor was blessedly empty.

Heart still pounding, she raced around the corner. Then stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her.

Ron lay as if made of stone, his arms curved protectively around Luna, the silver sword beside him. His eyes were open and glassy, unseeing of all that lay before them.

She had to fight down a sob and turned her attention to Luna.

That sight gave her hope.

Blood still covered her friend, but there seemed to be no new blood and her chest was moving up and down in narrow breaths.

Ginny threw herself to the floor, reaching between her brother and her best friend, carefully raising bits of ragged, bloody cloth.

What she saw made her gasp in shock.

Under those tattered strips of cloth was not skin torn open by a half-transformed werewolf. The skin had obviously been torn once, there were plenty of scars, but all of them looked months old at least.

"How-" she started, before stopping and looking in surprise at her brother.

Had to be family magic. When her mum had given her 'the talk' a few years ago she'd explained that she'd never bound her Prewett magic. How each of her children had a mixture of Prewett and Weasley magic, but that the particulars were different for each of them. There were numerous quirks to both families, but the common ground was that both families believed in protecting those that needed it and that family was important.

Bill kept quiet on his own magic, but it was suspected in the family that he was such a good curse-breaker because he was focused on making safe places. He had certainly spent enough years in his childhood babysitting his younger siblings and making sure they didn't mess with things they shouldn't. Charlie had admitted once that pain never bothered him when it was earned while helping those that needed it. Since he helped dragons, that was likely a good thing. Percy was a mystery, he never spoke of his. As for the twins, their odd connection was caused by their family magic, her Mum said. It made Ginny's heart hurt, wondering what pain Fred was now going through. Her own magic became much stronger when she was protecting others. She hadn't yet noticed if it was even stronger when protecting family, but that was a definite possibility. As for Ron….well, he'd never shown anything besides a better ability in Charms than all of his classmates. Something they had all displayed.

But if he could heal…

That was powerful and now it was-

She bit back a sob, yanking her eyes away from Ron and back to Luna before the sword caught her gaze.

Luna was alive right now, and there was no way Ginny could remove her from Ron's frozen arms without breaking one.

Something, even in death, she was unwilling to do.

She looked around, searching for a place to hide the two of them, only to stop when the sound of footsteps reached her.

They were moving quickly down a nearby staircase, so it couldn't be the two death eaters she'd listened to earlier. Perhaps it was the mysterious Kevan she'd heard of earlier.

With no time to hide she placed herself between the footsteps and her fallen loved ones. She raised her wand and took a dueling stance, just as Alianore had taught her.

Whoever it was, let them come.

She was ready.

XXX

Hermione stood frozen, her world narrowed down to the fact that she had no robes on.

She had no robes on.

No sleeves.

No stockings.

No trousers.

Her limbs were bare.

Completely bare.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to cover herself and run from the field.

And she might have done just that, or she might not have. It was hard to tell what she would or wouldn't have done. Because before she could make up her mind either way an intense pain surged through her hand. She looked down, following the lines of words until she reached that small sentence in her own handwriting.

I must respect authority.

The words were lined, above and below, by thin, pale fingers.

Her eyes traced those fingers up to a narrow wrist that disappeared beneath black sleeves.

Sleeves.

She wished she had sleeves.

Sleeves were a wonderful thing.

Her eyes continued up those sleeves to a handsome, aristocratic face.

She knew that face well. She'd seen it smile at her, seen it laugh, seen it wrinkle up in disgust, grow pouty, seen it twisted in pain, once she'd even seen it torn apart by tears.

This face showed none of those emotions. No, this time it was screwed into a most gruesome expression.

For half a second she thought it was aimed at her.

Aimed at her scars.

But, no, it was not aimed at her.

She followed that gaze, the pain in her hand - which she now realized was from him squeezing it - keeping her focused.

His hatred was pointed towards the two people that had done this to her.

Why?

His gaze didn't waver from the other couple, but his hand relaxed a bit.

Because they hurt you.

That surprised her in a way. Not that he was angry that they hurt her, but more the extent of his anger. She didn't think anyone had ever been this angry on her behest before.

Don't you care about the scars?

Now he did look at her. His gaze meeting hers before dropping to her limbs, examining them, reading every word before once more grabbing hold of her amber gaze with his own silver one.

Do you want me to care?

You should. I care.

I care. Just not in the way you think.

What do you mean?

I care, because they're a part of you. They prove how strong you are, how much you've been through, how evil these two are.

You don't find them disgusting?

No. They're a part of you. And I most certainly don't find you disgusting. Didn't my behavior in our little classroom earlier this evening prove that? Not to mention all the times before?

She felt her cheeks flush.

You proved it.

Good. Then how about we get rid of these two and go save your brother and our friends? Afterwards I'll help you obliviate everyone that saw my girlfriend in her knickers. Only certain people are allowed that privilege. Primarily me.

She grinned, her body coming back to life as her world grew broader. She still hated her scars. Was utterly disgusted by them and the words they contained, but the knowledge that one of the people she lov-cared about the most in the world didn't view them with disgust or pity gave her the ability to ignore them for the first time in her life.

Let's do this. Who do you want?

"What's this? Is the little mudblood petrified?" Bellatrix cooed.

"She's likely in awe of your work," Rodolphus cooed right back.

Not going to demand Bellatrix? She did kill your parents.

Draco's internal voice was tinged with surprise.

She shrugged.

She also killed your father.

"Point."

Draco's word made the Lestrange couple blink in surprise and Hermione wanted to laugh, so she did.

The sound seemed to unnerve the other couple, who took a hesitant step back, looking utterly confused.

Well?

Draco didn't respond immediately, instead he drew a silver dagger with his left hand and raised his wand in the other.

Hermione admired the dagger for a moment, wondering where he had gotten it.

Take the one you want. I think I hate them about equally at the moment.

Hermione grinned and took up a dueling stance. Rage boiled under the surface, but she didn't let it out, not in the way it wanted to be released. She didn't want to lose control this time.

"Well, Bellatrix, looks like it's just you and me."

The older woman blinked in surprise before letting out a tentative laugh and assuming her own dueling stance.

"Silly girl, neither of us are alone. Love, be a dear and finish off my nephew. We need to prune the Black family tree."

Rodolphus grinned and took up a dueling stance. "With pleasure, my love."

Draco?

Please, don't get upset. Old Malfoy spell I tweaked.

What-

"Umbris Echo! "

The world spun and when it came to a stop she gasped for breath, looking around. She was still standing in front of the castle in just her knickers.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked around, obviously confused. It was second later that the results of Draco's spell came out.

"HERMIONE! RUN!" A woman's voice screamed.

She recognized it well, she'd heard it too many times in her own nightmares.

"You think your brat can run? From me?! Stupid bitch!" Bellatrix cackled.

"Ma-ma?"

The childish voice made her breath catch and she looked over at Draco, who looked slightly surprised at this.

There was nothing for a moment, and the four of them simply stood there.

"NO!"

Hermione's young voice pierced the night and something swelled up inside of her older self. Screams, both mother and daughter, rang through the night and Hermione found herself losing it as Bellatrix gained a look of pleasure.

She knew this moment. This was when she had gained all the scars. She'd relieved it so many times….

Why?

Tears burned her eyes as she asked Draco the question.

Because. You defeat her here. I know the tale. My mother made me sit down and listen to it. Though at the time she said nothing of scars.

Why?

She repeated, still not understanding as the screams died down.

You held her off as a toddler. I wanted to remind her of that. And remind you. If you did that then, with no wand. What can you do now? Tell me and I'll cancel the spell.

"Time to die!" the past Bellatrix called out.

The current Bellatrix laughed and repeated the words, raising her wand and pointing it at her Hermione.

"NO!"

Hermione's breath caught and her eyes widening. Her nightmares had never reached this far before.

No. Don't cancel. I'm angry, we have to talk. But after I kill this bitch.

"No? You stupid little mudblood. No one tells Bellatrix no. Besides, you're next."

The current Bellatrix echoed the past one, a wild look coming into her eyes.

"NO!"

The young shout did something to this Bellatrix. She shuddered, her eyes growing wide as she absently reached down, touching her thigh.

She remembered now. She'd stabbed the bitch there, with her own knife. Hermione wasn't the only one that had walked away with scars from that night.

"Alright then, you can be first," the past Bellatrix hissed as the current one's head began to shake in denial.

Here.

Draco pressed his knife into her hand. She took it, staring down at it for a moment. Her bare, scarred arms drew her gaze, the words carved their in white, puckered skin. She'd spent so long avoiding her scars. Both mental and physical.

Maybe it was time to finally put them to rest.

Yes.

She'd make it simple and clean. She wasn't a monster.

No, she was simply seeing justice done.

"Hermione!"

Her mother's voice, echoing through time from that long ago night propelled Hermione forward. She closed the distance between herself and her parents' murderer, even as her younger voice began chanting, "No!" over and over again.

Bellatrix's past screams of rage were now echoed by screams of fear as the current Bellatrix stood there, arms hanging limply at her side, utterly lost in the past as she watched that ancient silver dagger slide cleanly between her ribs, piercing the little bit of heart she still had left.