Butterfly Effect ; H. Potter

147. against a thousand soldiers.

"Try anything and we'll all curse you," snapped Antheia. Harry could've sworn McGonagall smiled but only for a second.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," said Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your house could follow."

Harry heard the grinding of benches and then the sound of the Slytherins trooping out on the other side of the Hall.

"Ravenclaws, follow on!" cried Professor McGonagall.

Slowly, the four tables emptied. The Slytherin table was completely deserted, but a number of older Ravenclaws remained seated while their fellows filed out: even more Hufflepuffs stayed behind, and half of Gryffindor remained in their seats, necessitating Professor McGonagall's descent from the teachers' platform to chivvy the under-age on their way.

"Absolutely not, Creevey, go! And you, Peakes!"

Harry hurried over to the Weasleys, all sitting together at the Gryffindor table.

"Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Haven't you found –?" began Mr. Weasley, looking worried. But he broke off as Kingsley had stepped forwards on the raised platform to address those who had remained behind.

"We've only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest Towers – Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor – where they'll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile, Remus," he indicated Lupin, "Arthur," he pointed towards Mr. Weasley, sitting at the Gryffindor table, "and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need somebody to organise defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school –"

"– sounds like a job for us," called Fred, indicating himself and George, and Kingsley nodded his approval.

"All right, leaders up here and we'll divide up the troops!"

"Potter," said Professor McGonagall, hurrying up to him, as students flooded the platform, jostling for position, receiving instructions, "aren't you supposed to be looking for something?"

"What? Oh," said Harry, "oh yeah!"

He had almost forgotten about the Horcrux, almost forgotten that the battle was being fought so that he could search for it: the inexplicable absence of Ron and Hermione had momentarily driven every other thought from his mind. Antheia had ran up to him in a panic.

"I still can't find them," she said. Harry noticed her shoes had cracks in them, her pale blue jumper was wrinkled, and her hair was looking almost as bushy as Hermione's. But he also noticed she had a determined look on her face.

"Look, Antheia, if you ever feel it's too dangerous here," Harry started, "you can go find Ginny and go to a safe place. I'll be find, but I'm worried about you —"

"You're absolutely mad, Harry," said Antheia. "So many people have warned me to stay safe: the Weasleys, Tonks, and Dad; he almost insisted on me going home before I convinced him. I'll die here if I have to. To hell and back, right?"

"Er — this kind of is hell," said Harry slowly, a small smile appearing on his face. Antheia laughed darkly.

"Get going, now," said Antheia grimly, after kissing him on the cheek. "I'll go and make sure the young students are all out and safe. Oh, and don't die."

"I'll try my hardest," said Harry. With that, Antheia had disappeared into the crowd. He sensed eyes following him as he ran out of the Great Hall again, into the Entrance Hall still crowded with evacuating students. He allowed himself to be swept up the marble staircase with them, but at the top he hurried off along a deserted corridor. Fear and panic were clouding his thought processes. He tried to calm himself, to concentrate on finding the Horcrux, but his thoughts buzzed as frantically and fruitlessly as wasps trapped beneath a glass. Without Antheia, Ron, and Hermione to help him, he could not seem to marshal his ideas. He slowed down, coming to a halt halfway along an empty passage, where he sat down upon the plinth of a departed statue and pulled the Marauder's Map out of the pouch around his neck. He could not see Ron or Hermione's names anywhere on it, though the density of the crowd of dots now making its way to the Room of Requirement might, he thought, be concealing them. He put the map away, pressed his hands over his face, and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate ...