Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A Pyrrhic Victory

Harry Potter had at last succeeded at the daunting task that had been forced upon him: the destruction of the Dark Lord that called himself Voldemort. It wasn't a glorious final battle, as the reporters of the Daily Prophet would state a few days later. Whoever read the newspapers would get the impression that the two leaders, Harry Potter and Voldemort, the icons of Light and Darkness, respectively, had marched ahead of their armies to meet their foes in a final clash that would ultimately determine the fate of the wizarding world.

In this case, as in many others, the reporters couldn't be farther from the truth; there was no glory in that battle, there were no armies, the leaders weren't even expecting to meet each other in battle, at least not so soon. It all started with a Death Eater raid in Diagon Alley, probably designed to sow terror and panic, and therefore bereft of any real purpose. Those Death Eaters, nothing more than a small group of recently initiated recruits, started throwing curses around as soon as they apparated, causing a lot of noise and little actual damage. However, that group of Death Eaters was unfortunate enough to apparate near a building that housed some of Harry Potter's men. You see, after the death of Albus Dumbledore, Harry had become the leader and fighter the wizarding world needed; however, he didn't become the leader and fighter that the so-called Light wizards thought they needed. Harry wasn't above using lethal spells in battle, he saw no harm in using forceful tactics of information extraction on prisoners, and he could become quite brutal and ruthless if the situation warranted it, while the Light wizards hoped for him to turn into Dumbledore's replacement, as in his carbon copy, complete with twinkling eyes and all. This led to a growing tension between him and the members of the Order of the Phoenix, who disapproved of his methods, and finally to the estrangement of Harry Potter from his former friends. The Order, now led by Alastor Moody, thought that Harry's increasing brutality in his dealings with Death Eaters was unacceptable, and brought him much too close to the tactics of the Death Eaters themselves. On the other hand, Harry started thinking the Order was nothing more than a group of idle scroungers, without the stomach to do any real fighting.

And so, Harry searched for like-minded individuals, ones who were willing to bring the fight to the Death Eaters and were not afraid to use force if necessary. He eventually found some who agreed with his methods, and managed to turn them into a group bred with a single purpose: the annihilation of Voldemort and his servants. Whoever they were, wherever they were found, Death Eaters were killed on the spot by Harry Potter's vigilante group that came to be known as the Crimson Brigades.

And on that fateful day, the Death Eater raid met three members of this group. It should have ended quickly, the Death Eaters being of low rank, and fresh out of school, confronted with Harry Potter's cohorts, whom, or so the rumour mill said, he trained personally. But it was not to be. The Death Eaters were being watched by a senior member, a man that had long been in Voldemort's service, and that man was unwilling to abandon the recruits to the Crimson Brigades' tender mercies, since one of them was his own son. He ran to one of the stores that was run by a blood-purist sympathizer, actually a Death Eater courier in the Alley, and told him to ask for help from anyone he could remember that was loyal to the cause. After relaying his message, he went back outside to help his brethren.

The shopkeeper, alarmed by the man's urgency and panicked tone, thinking it was something much more serious than a simple raid gone awry, immediately started contacting whatever Death Eaters he had access to. Seven people responded and quickly went out into the Alley to join the fighting; the older Death Eater who had called for help hadn't gone very far; his brains were splattered in the shop's window. Out of the original six recruits, three were down, probably dead, and the others were reduced to casting defensive spells; on their opponents' side, one man was down, while the other two were still going strong and about to overcome the recruits' defences. However, alarmed at the arrival of the new opponents, the two members of the Crimson Brigades called for immediate backup, and things started to escalate. Ten minutes later, with the arrival of reinforcements from both sides, the Alley had turned into a veritable battlefield; while the Death Eaters were loosing people fast, and their death toll was far superior, the Crimson Brigades were unable to bring down the enemy because they were simply too outnumbered.

After a good fifteen minutes of fighting, the Order of the Phoenix apparated into the Alley; however, an arrival that could have meant the demise of Voldemort's forces went spectacularly wrong. Since they had no relevant intelligence of the situation, and didn't know where in the Alley the battle was taking place, they were ordered by Moody to split up into three groups, each one should apparate to a different part of the Alley and communicate to the other Order members exactly where the fighting was. One of those groups appeared close to the fighters, too close, in fact. Their sudden appearance drew the attention of both Death Eaters and Crimson Brigades, and immediately the order members were cut down by a volley of lethal spells coming from both parties: Dean Thomas, Charlie Weasley, Hestia Jones, Mundungus Fletcher, Dedalus Diggle, Lee Jordan and Alastor Moody were killed instantly, while Fred Weasley would be paralysed for life from the neck down, George Weasley would be blinded, also for life, and Hannah Abbott would lose her right arm and leg. The other Order groups, after loosing contact with Moody's party decided to go to the location the others had apparated to, but were wise enough not to try and apparate as well. When they were already near the place, the group composed of Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Sturgis Podmore, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley and Neville Longbottom ran into the Lestrange brothers, leading a swarm of dementors to the battle site. Both groups started trading spells, while the dementors brought their full powers to bear on the Order members, who not only had to worry about the two Death Eaters, but also to stop the dementors' advances.

The final Order group, that included Bill Weasley and his wife Fleur, Minerva McGonnagal, Ginny Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Poppy Pomfrey and Augusta Longbottom apparated to the opposite end of the Alley, near the Leaky Cauldron, farthest from Remus' group. They made their way through the wide streets and were about to join the Crimson Brigades in their positions, however, the distrust between these two groups ran too high and was too inculcated in their members, so the Order was received by a volley of reducto curses aimed at the pavement slightly ahead of them, as a warning to stay away. Cursing Harry's fighters for their foolishness, the Order members had to seek a position of their own, so they could begin fighting the Death Eaters.

About twenty minutes after the beginning of the battle, the Aurors arrived coming from the Leaky Cauldron's direction (later, Rufus Scrimgeour would state that the delay of the Ministry's forces was due to the need of securing the Leaky Cauldron, where the minister intended to establish his "headquarters", in order to "direct" the battle), only to meet Death Eater reinforcements that had three giants among them. The aurors would've been decimated if the Death Eaters and giants hadn't ended up stuck between the ministry's forces and the Order group led by McGonnagal; even then, they would have a hard time. Near the centre of the Alley, close to Gringotts, where the battle had initially started, chaos reigned. Screams, orders being shouted, a thick layer of dust rising, the flashes from the spells, the noise of explosions and the cries of pain from the wounded contributed to create a scene worthy of Dante's' Inferno. Beyond the Crimson Brigades' position, Remus Lupin's group had lost two people already - Arthur Weasley was hit by a killing curse and Molly ran wailing to his side, abandoning the fight, and was immediately held by a dementor that wasted no time in giving her the kiss. They had stupefied the Lestranges, however they still hadn't managed to drive off the dementors, who were seriously beginning to affect them.

Nearly half an hour after the unpredictable battle started, they arrived. Voldemort seemed to emerge from the very shadows, a large contingent of Death Eaters accompanying him, ready to decimate the fools that dared defy his power. The man, if could even call him that, exuded an aura of pure evil; even his own servants cringed at his approach, giving him a wide berth.

Then, from within the Crimson Brigades' ranks, came Harry Potter, also with the remainder of his forces; the mere sight of their leader drew a loud cheer and was enough to give his troops their second wind, causing the Brigades to start firing curses more furiously than ever. Harry planned to secure one of the flanks, and in order to do so, he'd have to help either Remus or McGonnagal; he decided to help Remus' group, since they were being driven back by the dementors, and Harry didn't want dementors assaulting his left flank or Order members retreating towards his position. Harry was one of the few people the dementors were actually afraid of, having modified the Patronus charm to become more energized and to have it shot in a concentrated beam; this spell, one of Harry's specialities, known only to himself and a select few of his men, was the only spell known to actually harm a dementor, instead of merely driving them of, which made him a perfect choice to help against the dementors.

Unfortunately, he found himself unable to leave the position he held, since his followers could deal with Death Eaters just fine, but not Voldemort. He had started casting incredibly powered up spells as soon as he appeared, so Harry was left to counter the ones who could do real damage to his troops. Remus' group, left to fend off for themselves, retreated a couple of minutes later, and started running towards the Crimson Brigades, not knowing the reception McGonnagal's group had received. Sturgis Podmore had fainted earlier, and the others didn't think to rescue him in their panic to escape the dementors; they were denied their meal however, as a stray spell hit a building near them and collapsed a wall, burying Sturgis under tons of debris, much to the dementors' chagrin. He didn't die that day, instead he was discovered several days later by clean-up crews working to repair the damage in Diagon Alley, dead by dehydration.

A lone Death Eater got away from the main group surrounding Voldemort, hoping to reach Remus' group before they got to the Crimson Brigades' position. She hoped to gain the attention of one member of that group, Neville Longbottom. Bellatrix Lestrange removed her white mask and started to taunt Neville quite loudly; her taunts, as well as seeing his parents' torturer got through Neville's panic induced haze, and he stopped running, having decided to stay and face his tormentor. While Bellatrix taunted him with her annoying baby voice, Neville started a heartfelt monologue about his reasons for defeating her, obviously about having to grow up without parents because of her; when the talk was over, not that it was much of a talk, since the noise level around them was deafening, they started duelling. Neville should have won, or so he thought; his cause was righteous, Justice was on his side and he had been trained by the best (again, so he thought) the wizarding world had to offer after the death of Dumbledore.

But things don't always go as planned, and the real world is hardly a fair place. Bellatrix, no matter what people thought about her, was a powerful witch, and an extremely capable dueller, having lots of experience in battles, which she always survived mostly unscathed. It became painfully obvious after a few minutes that Neville was being toyed with. The witch hung him up upside down, started tossing him around and making him bounce off walls and the floor, and was hitting him with childish, embarrassing spells, like the Runny Nose hex, the Leg Locker curse, the Incontinentia curse, etc, all the while giggling like a school girl - a psychopathic, insane, bloodthirsty school girl. She got tired of playing with him, eventually, and her spells became increasingly more deadly. Neville was crushed mentally long before life left him; he had pictured this moment so many times in his life, how could it end like this?

He always imagined, as a child and then as an adult, meeting the monster who tortured his parents to insanity, fighting her, fuelled by his righteous anger, overpowering her and then eliminating her - not in anger, but to achieve some closure and avenge all those she had ruined. Not once in these fantasies of his did he conceive he might die in such a duel; not once did he consider her as a powerful opponent to take seriously, to Neville it was just a matter of being able to find her, the rest of the story was already set in stone. How could his revenge end in failure if it was right? How could he possibly die without first killing her? It was simply not possible to end like this. These and many other similar thoughts ran through Neville's mind as his body was burned, cut, pierced and crushed by Bellatrix's magic; he died with a look of astonishment on his face, as if he simply could not believe he would meet his doom at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry Potter saw through the corner of his eyes Lupin's group approaching after being routed by the dementors, as he traded spells back and forth with Voldemort. He now faced a serious conundrum; having people he didn't trust at his side and back, or cut them down where they stood so they wouldn't approach his troops' position. A grey haired woman, one of his lieutenants, approached him inquiring about what exactly they should do to the Order members. Harry, clearly conflicted, ordered his people to allow them to approach; it wasn't that he thought they might be in league with Voldemort, or that he thought they might switch sides during the battle, it was simply that he was worried about what would happen after the battle, provided he survived until then. If most of his men were killed, if Harry got weakened enough, and there were enough Order and Ministry members, Harry didn't doubt they would jump him the first chance they got, probably to throw him in jail, all for his own good of course.

And, Harry admitted to himself, he had become too paranoid to allow people he didn't trust to fight with him and to have their wands drawn anywhere near him. So, he allowed them to approach. As soon as Lupin and the rest got close enough, Harry used a couple of spells he had picked up from some runes he had found inscribed in the ruins of an ancient druidic altar in the Scottish highlands - a quick Stone to Mud spell caused the surprised Order members to sink into the ground, followed by a Mud to Stone to ensure neither of them would bother him anytime soon. That being taken care of, he turned back to fighting the Death Eaters and their leader. The fight was turning into a battle of attrition, and Harry wanted to avoid that at all costs; his people were competent, good duellers, far above the average Death Eater, Order member or Ministry auror, however they were not numerous; Harry had about the same numbers as the present Order of the Phoenix, before the battle started that is; the Order had sworn in many new members after Dumbledore's death, most were newly graduated former classmates of Harry's; they died quickly, leaving only the older, more experienced members or the most apt.

A third of Harry's Brigades were down, either dead or too injured to fight anymore; the aurors and remaining Order people were still tangled up in fighting the giants, once in a while one or two aurors would open up the barrier between the Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, where the illustrious Scrimgeour had ensconced himself, shoot a couple of completely useless spells that only enraged the giants further, and then go back inside. Harry wanted to rip his hair off in frustration at these people's stupidity; they were fighting giants double the size of Grawp with fucking stunners! No help would come from there, and Harry wasn't sure he wanted it. Once he thought it over, it was all good, as long as he didn't have to worry about the giants along with everything else, as his men were now also fending off dementors. But he still needed a plan to get things moving, the whole affair had been going on for nearly an hour.

He got an idea soon after, it was crazy, suicidal, and the chances of it succeeding were low, but then again, that was everyday fare to Harry Potter. He called three of his men aside, and told them of his plan, which caused all three to raise their brows; a petite witch asked him politely if he was out of his bloody mind. Harry assured them it would work, and it wasn't as if they had plenty of choices. Anti - apparition wards had been raised earlier in the battle, both to prevent enemy reinforcements from coming, but also to prevent enemies from attacking from their backs, which was precisely what Harry hoped to exploit. The three wizards concentrated and broke the wards surrounding the area; Harry apparated to the rear of the Death Eaters' position, right in the middle of his stunned enemies, shot a Stone to Mud in a wide arc at the front of the building nearest to the Death Eater masses and apparated back, while the three wizards who brought down the wards were quickly bringing them up again. Voldemort, who had been busy shooting spell after spell hadn't even realised any of this, so it was a tremendous shock to see the whole building they had their backs to suddenly collapse on top of them, burying easily two thirds of his servants.

A shocked silence followed the thunderous fall of tons of debris. The Death Eaters looked around, utterly confused and disbelieving at the destruction of over half of their forces, due to a manoeuvre most didn't even know had taken place. Voldemort, on the other hand, was furious. Had he been facing his forces, the look on his face would have sent them scurrying like rats. He felt like he was about to erupt, such was his rage and frustration; even his deathly pale skin took on a pinkish tone. He had never, ever, been this mad. Harry felt a tingling in his scar, a testament to the strength of Voldemort's fury; ever since learning proper Occlumency, his scar had never bothered him again.

The dark lord was beginning to foam at the mouth. He looked up, past the mounds of rubble the furious fighting had caused, through the settling cloud of dust, to see something that shattered whatever sanity or restraint he had left. Harry Potter, the most frustrating wizard he had ever met, was looking directly at him - smirking. The bloody boy had the gall to smirk at the dark lord! He knew then that this had been Potter's doing, it simply had to be! No one, absolutely no one could do this to him. Voldemort at first didn't consider Harry a threat, but he had always considered him a nuisance, a pest, a thorn on his side. It would take years to replenish his ranks. Foiled again and again and again by a nobody, a lucky upstart; it was enough to madden anyone! Then the boy turned to his left and started casting that infernal Silverfire spell of his on the dementors at an enviable speed. Two of his followers, obviously trained in the use of that spell, also started firing, albeit at a more sedate pace, leaving smouldering piles of ashes and black robes where dementors once stood. The death of so many Death Eaters, then the destruction of a dozen of their brethren in the space of a few seconds made the dementors decide they'd had enough. They started retreating to the shadowy alleyways, still under fire from Harry's men, intent on leaving the battle and their allies to their fate; the dementors wouldn't return that day.

"POTTER!!!" the dark lord screeched in his high-pitched tone. He started walking forward, leaving behind his followers, not sparing them a single thought. His mind was focused solely on the destruction of the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry got what he wanted, a respite from the battle for his men, no matter how short, and the attention of the dark lord, so they could duke it out without Harry worrying about protecting his people. Harry jumped over the improvised trench his Brigades had built, nothing more than a mound of earth and upturned pavement, and started walking in great strides towards his opponent. They both started trading spells soon after, both moving and casting faster than anyone had seen. Neither Voldemort nor Harry spoke the incantations to their spells, and wand movements were practically non-existent; even the wands seemed to be used more for the sake of conformity than actual need, such was the power and control over magic both displayed.

Each of them capitalized on their strong points, Voldemort relied on his great experience and superior magical knowledge and power, while Harry relied on his tactics, his unorthodox use of spells and his dirty fighting tricks. Harry was hit with a spell that broke some of his ribs, while Voldemort got kicked in the balls when he got too close; Harry scooped up a handful of dirt and threw it at the dark lord's eyes, and cast a spell while Voldemort coughed and spluttered. However it didn't have the desired effect, since he was able to dodge Harry's Ignition curse when it was about to connect; however, some unnamed Death Eater took it right between the eyes, causing his head to combust instantly, mask and all. This reminded all the people staring at the duel between the dark lord and the Boy-Who-Lived that there were enemies to deal with, and the spells started flying again. Neither the Death Eaters nor the Crimson Brigades wanted to risk firing at a distance and possibly getting their leaders hit by crossfire, so both groups moved forward, intent on engaging their enemies at closer range.

Meanwhile, Voldemort had cast a membrane over his eyes, like some reptiles possessed, to prevent any more tricks from Harry from catching him off guard; he narrowed his eyes at Harry, and was about to start taunting the former Gryffindor about using such low and dirty tactics when he reminded himself this wasn't a game and he'd have a hard time as it was to prevent the complete destruction of his forces. They started duelling once more, dodging, blocking and sometimes jumping over their opponents' spells, while casting whatever offensive magics came to their minds. A Death Eater was running past them, probably to meet an opponent, when Harry shot out his arm and hit the death eater's neck with his forearm. The death eater broke his neck, but this slight moment of distraction was all Voldemort needed to disarm Harry and send him flying through the air; he landed at the feet of a death eater that was scurrying around, looking to get away from the fight, but not daring to run away. Voldemort sent an Avada Kedavra curse at his fallen opponent, but Harry quickly grabbed the death eater's shins and made him loose his balance, falling on top of him and taking the curse meant for Harry. Unknown to Harry, this death eater was Peter Pettigrew.

Harry, calling on every bit of strength he possessed, got up and threw the corpse in Voldemort's direction, then dived for his wand. Voldemort was tossing aside the body thrown at him, and failed to see Harry transfiguring a rock into a sword and start running towards him, which resulted in Voldemort getting run through. In pain and bleeding heavily from his abdomen, Voldemort still managed to blast Harry away with a Bombard curse, the same that broke his ribs earlier.

Harry, for his part, was also in a lot of pain, having just had a couple more ribs broken. He blocked the curse too late and it was a particularly powerful one, but at least he had blocked it partially, otherwise he'd be dead. Harry got up, breathing heavily, and coughed up some blood; Voldemort didn't look much better, but it was hard to say anyway. The dark lord was favouring his left leg, was also breathing heavily, and had a hand close to his stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.

Then, with lightning speed, Voldemort raised his wand and the pavement beneath Harry's shook and rose up, sending him to the floor once more; the pavement took a hand-like form, and it began to fall down on him, but he managed to transfigure the mass of stone into cotton, thus suffering no damage. He tried to get up, but not before being disarmed once more. Voldemort had a triumphant smile on his face, thinking that Harry would die for sure this time; he was totally unprepared for Harry charging him, wandless, and leaping towards him, head-butting him in the process. Voldemort kissed the floor this time, surprised for the first time in many years, as if he could not believe the stupidity of what Harry had done. He got up snarling, ready to put the whelp out of his misery once and for all, and he saw Harry already had his wand in hand; and although it was pointed in his general direction, Harry himself had his back to him and had his left arm covering his eyes.

A brilliant white light, so brilliant it hurt, exploded in his sight; standing so close to Harry, he would've been blinded instantly had it not been for the membrane he had conjured around his eyes earlier. Even then, it didn't prevent the pain he felt or the scream of agony that escaped him. Harry saw his chance and took it, sending a cutting curse towards Voldemort's wand arm; arm and wand fell to the ground and were immediately incinerated by another curse of Harry's. Voldemort, still dazed and in pain, then felt his thorax crushed by the same curse he had sent Harry earlier. He fell to his knees, looking more hideous than ever.

"Go ahead Potter. Finish it! I shall rise again and again, until your luck runs out! I'm immortal!" he then started laughing, drawing the attention of the people fighting around him.

The death eaters were nearly annihilated, and those few still standing stopped fighting, staring in disbelief at their lord's defeat; the Brigades knew they should wrap it up and finish off the remaining enemies, but no one dared look away from the scene of Harry Potter standing over the kneeling dark lord. Harry, not responding, waved his wand, causing metal cables to shoot out from the ground and restrain Voldemort's limbs.

"You know, I'm not so aloof as a leader that I let my people fight and only intervene personally when it's absolutely necessary, like you do." Harry got something out of his pocket and kept it in his left hand. "Did you think I was just waiting for the right time to arrive and save the day? That I was taking my sweet time so I could appear when I was needed the most like the hero of a fucking fairy tale?" Harry snorted and then continued "When I heard that this whole mess was escalating and turning into something big, I decided to take my chances and led a group to your house in Little Hangleton. Yes, I know where it is." said Harry when he saw the dark lord's eyes widening. "You see, by using my blood in your resurrection, you essentially fucked yourself big time. The Fidelius charm around your manor recognized me as being you, so the moment you cast the charm, I automatically gained the knowledge of it's location, which was pretty useful. Let's not forget that any tracking spells performed by using my blood as an ingredient gave me two locations, the other one being, obviously, you; I got to thank you, we wouldn't have been able to stop so many of your raids or discover the location of so many of your death eaters if we didn't know where you were most of the time."

Voldemort still couldn't believe what he was hearing; it had sounded a brilliant idea at first, using the blood of his greatest enemy, and on top of that gaining protection from the killing curse. Now, in retrospect, he realized it was one of the stupidest things he might've done. But no, it was Potter and his damn luck; he shouldn't have survived that night at the cemetery, and he certainly wasn't supposed to turn the table on him.

"Want to know the funniest part? Of course this is only me theorising a bit, but since we share the same blood, you probably could've walked into Privet Drive in broad daylight after my fourth year, and no one would know. If the wards around that place, assuming there really were any wards, were based on blood, you could've got the drop on me and killed me anytime you liked. Hell, they didn't stop apparating, you could've apparated to my room, AK'd me and go back in less than five seconds!" Harry said this as if he was telling a particularly funny joke to a friend of his, while Voldemort acquired a pinkish tone on his face for the second time that day.

"It changes nothing Potter, nothing! You still can't kill me, I'm still immortal!" yelled Voldemort.

"No, you are not immortal, Riddle, and never have been. Me and some of my top fighters went to your manor, hoping to find you without the bulk of your death eaters around; an assassination mission, if you prefer. You had already left, of course, but I did find this!" Harry dropped what he had in his hand to the ground, waved his wand and restored it to its original size. For the first time anyone could remember, Voldemort had a look of pure fear on his face, as he looked at the dead body of Nagini.

"She was the last." Harry informed the dark lord, who now showed nothing but increasing terror. Harry lowered his voice and said, "I know what you did to yourself. If you're wondering why you didn't notice they were being destroyed, let me tell you it's because you couldn't. You maimed your own soul so much that you became desensitised to it; you are truly inhuman." Harry pointed his wand at the prone wizard, and then said, "You're not immortal, you were just hard to kill." Harry incinerated his body. Voldemort truly lost his mind in those final moments, and as the flames consumed him, he began calling Harry a liar, that he couldn't possibly die. He died laughing hysterically, like the madman he was.

Harry looked around. His people had suffered casualties, but they weren't the ones in worst condition. The death eaters had been wiped out, and with them two generations of the most prominent pureblood families in Britain, most of which would die out for lack of heirs. The Order of the Phoenix wasn't exactly in top condition either, with over half of it's members dead or incapacitated; Remus, Hermione and Ron were still where Harry had left them, stuck on the ground. Hermione and Ron were both crying, presumably at the deaths of the elder Weasleys, while Remus was trying to get his neck off the ground, hopping to catch a glimpse of Tonks. Surprisingly, the Order group that was fighting the giants was the one who lost the least members, with only Augusta Longbottom (stepped on by a giant) and Kingsley Shacklebolt (throat slit by a cutting curse) as casualties. Ginny had her lower right leg crushed, or rather reduced to a pulp no longer recognizable as belonging to a human being, as she dodged a giant's club too late, and Tonks and Bill had severe burns, but nothing untreatable or life threatening, except for Ginny's case. The reason why they were in such good condition was the fact that the giants tended to get confused in battles, and they often swung their clubs at the first thing they saw moving, sometimes death eaters, other times aurors, other times Order members. The aurors took the brunt of the damage in this case, out of the eleven who stayed in the alley to fight, only a hysterical Dawlish hadn't been turned to paste by a giant's club.

"Gather our dead, leave the rest. Those who can stand and move, help the others who can't. We'll be apparating to St. Mungo's, and I want some of you to secure a hospital ward for our members only. If possible, I want three people standing guard..." here Harry faltered, his injuries beginning to take their toll. He was having difficulty breathing, and wondered if some of his ribs had punctured a lung.

"You all know what to do people, so let's go!" said a young woman that appeared next to Harry, supporting him and stopping him from falling down.

"Let's go, Soi. I've had enough of this shit." mumbled Harry.

Thus ended the Battle of Diagon Alley, a battle no one wanted or predicted; there was little glory, little honour, lots of blood and even more death. If one were to read the papers some days later, one would wonder if the reporters even bothered to visit the site, since they insisted on calling the battle glorious; bodies would be dug out for days from the rubble, the damage would take months to repair, and some bloodstains would never go away. Close to the apothecary, people would pass by squeezing themselves against the building and avoid the middle of the street, and later the surrounding stores and buildings would be abandoned. That had been the site of Voldemort's execution, and sometimes the charred contour of a body could be seen on the stones of the pavement; some even said they could see black smoke rising from that spot.