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"Harry," Hermione ran up to him and slipped into her usual seat at the Gryffindor table.
"What's up, Mi?" Harry asked, sliding over the plate he'd already piled high with her favorites.
"Dobby got word from Emerald," she murmured. "The Death Eaters are gathering for an attack."
"Today?" Harry asked. "Why am I asking: of course it's today. And people still think that greasy bastard is on our side." There was no way that it was a mere coincidence that Riddle was gearing up for an attack today, while both the professors and the Order were busy. "Did Emerald say they were breaking into small raiding groups, or massing for one big attack?"
"One big attack," Hermione said grimly, having already come to the same conclusion.
Harry glanced at the Head table, which was empty save for McGonagall. It had been a risk of the Order's plan, to leave only one person at the school, but they'd been confident that Riddle wouldn't know what they were planning until they were already done.
"The professors and the Order have already been at it for half an hour," he mused aloud. "That means they're right in the middle of bringing the first wave of muggleborn families to the rendezvous location." The empty warehouse that Justin Finch-Fletchly's family had just finished renovating made a perfect location to set portkeys and floss to without breaking the Statue of Secrecy. If Harry's memory of the schedule was correct, the first rescued muggleborn families should be arriving in the next few minutes. Probably only one or two would make it through the floo to Hogwarts before Riddle's wards cut them off. "McGonagall's priority has to be the wardstone," he decided. "If any families make it through, they'll be relatively safe with their escorts."
"Agreed," Hermione nodded quickly. "I'll let her know." She grabbed her plate and approached the Headmistress. Harry noticed more than a few eyes tracking her; the older muggleborns knew enough to be on edge. Within moments, Hermione and McGonagall hurried out of the Hall.
Immediately, those same students turned their gaze towards Harry. He let out a huff at how predictable they were, then downed the last of his pumpkin juice and headed towards the Head table himself.
By the time he got himself situated, leaning against the front of the table, the students had shuffled up to the near end of their House tables, and every eye in the room was on him. It was fewer eyes than normal, since the purebloods were actually able — and generally required — to go home for the holiday break, leaving just the muggleborns and some half bloods claiming sanctuary in the school.
"Is it our parents?" Justin asked quickly. He, like the other seventh years, had been instrumental in the plan to convert one of Hogwarts' abandoned wings into housing for their threatened families, and knew what was scheduled for today.
Harry shook his head. "We don't think so."
Many of the younger students let out relieved sighs, but the older ones clearly realized what he wasn't saying. "So we're in danger," Dean said.
"Best we can tell," Harry agreed. "The adults are all out fetching our families for moving day, and as soon as the Death Eaters throw up their wards, Hogwarts will be cut off. That means that we're the only ones left to defend her."
Harry clearly saw the shock and fear on many faces, but a surprising number simply looked determined.
"We know how Death Eaters attack," Harry continued. The adults would probably want him to hunker down and hope that the school's wards held, but Harry wasn't prepared to risk all these children's lives on that hope. "They use dark spells and the Unforgivables, but they also capitalize on our fear of them. They like to play with their food, instead of going straight for the kill. They think muggleborns are inferior, and don't expect children to be able to fight in the first place. So with that in mind, what advantages do we have?"
"We're defending, which means we can set traps," Dean immediately pointed out. "We can control where and how they get in — to a certain extent."
"If we're fighting inside the castle itself, instead of outdoors, there are lots of doorways and furniture we can shield behind," Sally-Anne added.
"We can pin them down in hallways and shoot from both sides," sixth year Raven Pauline Clearwater said.
A fifth year Puff who's name Harry didn't know chimed in, "We can use pranks, like that swamp the Wealsey twins made a few years back."
A few others tossed around ideas involving some of Hagrid's creatures, weaponizing the quidditch bludgers, and luring the Death Eaters to the top of the astronomy tower in order to shove them off.
Finally, one of the Hufflepuff firsties sidled up to Harry. "Um, I have an idea?" he said quietly.
Harry squatted down in front of him. "Whatcha got, mate?"
"Have you ever seen that American movie, Home Alone?"
Harry hadn't, and was about to say so, when Dean burst out laughing. "That would be hilarious!"
A few others joined in, clearly understanding the reference, but there were a few who appeared as confused as Harry.
Hermione's like, "That isn't necessarily a bad idea, actually," Hermione said, slipping up onto the table beside Harry. "McGonagall's doing what she can," she murmured in Harry's ear.
"Good," he nodded tightly at her before turning back to the firstie. "Alright, so what's this movie, then?"
oOo
Seventeen hours after the call went out that Hogwarts was under attack, Bill Weasley's team of curse breakers finally brought down the wards that Voldemort had ensconced the school in. Like the other members of the Order of the Phoenix, Kingsley and Weasley had both been assigned to retrieve the families of muggleborns today, now that the winter holidays were in session.
After the moves Voldemort had made in the Ministry, the young muggleborns themselves had been forced to claim sanctuary within the walls of Hogwarts. Adult muggleborns had already fled the country or hidden behind wards of their own, but the children were unable to protect themselves or their families. It had taken most of the fall term for the castle's house elves to make the old wing inhabitable for the many families that needed protection, and those who could be trusted were supposed to spend today safely ferrying those families to their new quarters.
Instead, Voldemort and his Death Eaters had attacked while they were out, hitting the defenseless children at the heart of where they should have been safe. Some of the older ones — especially Potter's friends — could hold out for longer, but as the hours dragged on, no one in the Order expected anyone inside the school to be left standing.
"We're in!" came the cry from Weasley's team, followed by a half-hearted echo from the gathered rescuers. Some were doing their best to remain optimistic, but Kingsley was among those who were simply waiting to identify the bodies.
The group made their way up the sloping lawn, seeing the scars of battle with the external defenders. Most of Hagrid's beasts weren't much use in a battle, but between those that were and the various statue defenders, the Death Eaters had at least been slowed down slightly. Kingsley passed two black-cloaked bodies on the trek; at least those were two fewer Death Eaters that the children had to face.
The front doors were wide open, and Kingsley took the lead alongside Moody, wands out and prepared for an ambush, even if everything sounded eerily quiet now. Here they found three more downed Death Eaters, and it was quickly confirmed that they were already dead. Bafflingly, they were surrounded by what appeared to be loose bricks and rocks, but Kingsley couldn't see any corresponding damage to the entry hall.
Suddenly Moody choked, drawing every eye to him. "In there," he said, pointing shakily at the Great Hall.
"The Death Eaters?" Sinistra asked.
Moody shook his head, his false eye locked onto whatever he was seeing inside. "The students."
Kingsley hustled to the doors, Hestia and the Weasley twins joining him in pushing them open. Inside was a sight that brought Kingsley to a standstill. Arrayed across the House tables were the children — not their bodies, but the living children — sitting and laying in clumps. A few had distinctive evidence of the bandaging charm, but this was not an infirmary. Instead, the students were cuddled up with pillows and blankets, and they even appeared to have mugs of hot chocolate!
All of them were staring at the far wall, past the Slytherin table. Potter and Granger were sitting alone on that one, leaning into each other. Her wand was out, projecting some kind of moving picture onto the wall, and it appeared that Potter was lending her some of his magical strength to power it.
"What in Merlin's name?" Tonks burst out, loudly enough to catch Potter and Granger's attention. The projection froze, and all the children seemed to notice them for the first time.
"Wotcher, Tonks," Potter said with a tired smile.
"Wotcher Harry," one of the Weasley twins replied.
"We're here to… rescue you?" The other continued hesitantly.
Potter smirked, prompting chuckles from some of the other children. "Great! Thanks mate! You can have whatever's left." he waved his hand dismissively at the doors, indicating the rest of the school.
The medics and a few of the professors stayed behind, checking on their students, but the others began to spread out through the school's halls. Kingsley was no longer dreading what he would find there, but his new, mounting confusion was almost as powerful.
oOo
Hermione resumed her projection — a claymation Christmas video that Harry had some vague memories of hearing from within his cupboard, but which Hermione had apparently watched often enough to have fairly well memorized — while Harry kept an eye on the doors to the Entry hall.
Soon enough, the professors, order members, and aurors began to collect the bodies scattered throughout the castle and move them outside. With each one, someone else would poke their head into the Great Hall, stare at Harry incredulously for a moment, and then duck away. He could practically see the Boy-Who-Lived legend growing again, as every single dead Death Eater seemed to be attributed to Harry himself.
Finally, Moody clomped over to Harry with a scowl. "What did you do, Potter?" he grumbled.
"We defended Hogwarts," he replied easily, knowing that the lack of specifics would drive the old auror mad.
"I mean the spell!" Moody growled. "What the hell did you use on them?"
"Ah, yes, a very complex spell," Harry said somberly, "Highly specialized. The Macaulay Culkin." Hermione tucked her face into his neck, but Harry could tell from her trembling that she was barely holding back her laughter. "Fortunately I was able to teach it to the others," Harry continued seriously. "So few are capable of mastering it."
Moody stared back, uncomprehending. "The last one I brought out looks like he was hit with a thousand paintball charms that pulverized his internal organs and crushed his skull."
Harry nodded sagely and did his best Percy Weasley impression. "Yes, excellent form on that one. The caster is a credit to Hufflepuff."
Tonks popped up behind Moody with her own confused expression; Kingsley, Hooch, and the Weasley twins right behind her. "The one I just hauled out seemed to have slipped on a patch of ice and fallen down the central staircase, though I can't figure out why he had purple spots."
"Yes, it's a very effective spell, isn't it?" Harry agreed.
"Alright, but we found one that looks like they were tarred and feathered and then beaten with some kind of triangular brand." Fred said seriously, though from the twinkle in his eye, he knew that Harry was up to something, even if he didn't know exactly what.
"Yes, the older students with more power can get such impressive results, can't they?" Hermione agreed admiringly, having finally suppressed her giggles.
"The ones in the Charms corridor were burnt in several places and had spikes through their feet!" Madam Hooch said suspiciously.
Harry managed to bite back a laugh; he'd watched the third year Ravenclaw twins pull that off and been very impressed at the time. "Yes, the caster is an absolute credit to their house. Very precise placement and very vicious manifestations. I couldn't have done better myself."
"And this is all the same spell?" Kingsley looked like he didn't buy it, so Harry adopted his most trustworthy expression.
"Indeed, the Macaulay Culkin is very versatile."
None of them seemed satisfied with his explanation — save for the Weasley twins — but finally the group left him and went back to levitating bodies out of the various nooks and crannies around Hogwarts.
Hermione had just finished the Rudolph movie and started one about Jack Frost when an auror they didn't recognize stormed into the hall. "Seriously?" she hissed, once she reached Harry and Hermione. "You Home Alone'd them?"
The group of seventh years sitting nearby burst into laughter, and Dean raised his mug in a toast. "Cheers, mate!"
Harry grinned. "Well spotted, Auror…"
"Trimble." Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at them, though the expression was far less intimidating than Snape's version. "Now, what am I supposed to put on the forms to describe this so-called spell of yours?"
Hermione chuckled. "Whatever you want!"
Auror Trimble facepalmed as the kids around them laughed.
oOo
For decades to come, defense masters, aurors, dueling champions, and authors all debated the merits of the Macaulay Culkin spell, the wildly varying results, and the strange problem that certain people (almost all purebloods) had with successfully casting it. Whenever he was questioned about the details, Head Auror Potter simply smirked and said, "Oh, I learned it from an American chap who also had to face down criminals far too young. Hilarious bloke."
For generations, the battle of Hogwarts was spoken of in awed, yet confused, terms. No one could agree on who exactly had fought, what spells they had cast, or how long the battle had taken before reinforcements arrived. The only consensus was that Harry Potter had been the leader, and the spell he claimed to have used had never been heard of before that day.
New Muggleborn students always seemed to start giggling when they read about it in History class, and Professor Potter-Granger just winked at them and continued. When her pureblood students asked her to teach them that spell, she simply said, "Ask me again when you're old enough." When her Muggleborns students approached her with a knowing smile and asked for the spellwork, she always gave another wink and the same answer: "Whatever you want it to be."