A/N - yes, it's me! Sorry for the delay but one room in our house got robbed and guess what they stole - my laptop. Therefore the only access to Portkey and writing is at work and (how dare they - expect me to work at work?), I have had to work and not write hence the delay. To June, Antonio and Barbara - I can't send from the 'bevkim' address at the moment - I can receive but not send so sorry I haven't replied to you!
And now the story. Just to let you know, I don't like war/battles, don't watch war movies/t.v., read war books and really have no idea how a battle situation would be with regards to strategy etc. Therefore, I've kind of not gone into specifics in this chapter and if I have done something that just would not have happened in a battle situation - I apologise. This was quite hard for me to write and it will be the next chapter that will be a bit more…flowing. Anyway, enough of all that - here we go!
Chapter 21 - The Battle
Harry entered the empty headmistress's office slightly out of breath, but he could feel his adrenalin pumping around his veins. He barely registered that it was still pitch black outside and that he had now been awake for seventeen hours, his mind was stuck on ways to keep himself and his friends alive.
Ignoring the cries of indignation from the portraits that he had entered the office without permission, Harry searched for the sword, finally seeing it on the shelf below the Sorting Hat. Drawn to it, he stood for a moment taking in its jewelled beauty and thought for the first time that he was taking a prized heirloom without asking. Frowning, he hesitated, wondering whether he was doing the right thing.
"You should take it Harry," the portrait behind the headmistress's desk advised, "I will let Minerva know, if she asks, where it has gone."
Harry turned to Dumbledore's picture and saw the old wizard standing and watching him intently.
"Am I doing the right thing?" Harry asked and Dumbledore smiled.
"Yes Harry, you are." With those words of comfort, Harry turned back to the sword, firstly removing the leather sheath and belt from its hold, gently inspecting the finely made garment before strapping it around his waist. It felt odd, the light sheath hanging down the side of his left leg.
With steady hands, Harry gripped the handle of the sword, lifting it off its holder. The weight was heavy but not uncomfortably so but as Harry stood there holding it, a slither of panic hit him - he has had no sword training and the last time he had held a sword was when he was twelve, battling the basilisk. This idea was stupid.
Yet somehow, he knew what to do. Gripping the sword's handle, he found the position that was comfortable before doing a few practice swishes, enjoying the ease in which the ancient weapon sliced the air.
"Godric would be proud," one of the portraits watching Harry commented - Harry just looked up, then slipped the sword into its leather home. Strangely, the new weight didn't feel uncomfortable against his leg as he walked over to Dumbledore's picture.
"This is the end…" Harry begun to say, but stopped as Dumbledore held up his hand.
"No Harry, this is the beginning," the professor said, his eyes twinkling though a hint of hardness hid in their depths, "what ever happens today will be the start of the next part in your journey. I have the faith that you will succeed."
"Thank you professor."
"The castle will help you," Dumbledore carried on, "these walls hold many secrets and have been standing for a very long time. They will not fall easily."
Harry nodded and then with a deep intake of breath, he quickly left the headmistress's office and began the trek back to the Great Hall. He ran, holding the sword steady with his left hand while his wand was clasped tightly in his right, acknowledging Parvati and Lavender with their group of young students with a quick wave as they passed him heading in the opposite direction.
He entered the Hall to see everyone facing a large map of Hogwarts hanging freely at the end of the chamber, where the teachers usually sit. There was a clock next to it, only minutes remaining as it counted down until the time the wards disappeared. Everyone were bunched in groups, listening to Mr Weasley, who was indicating how they were going to handle the battle, how the ghosts were to be used (as messengers between teams), that the house-elves would help the injured and how to stay alive.
Harry went over to where Ron and Hermione were standing together, slightly away from the others, joining them in listening to Mr Weasley.
"What have I missed?" he whispered to Hermione.
"Everyone has been put into teams," Hermione whispered back, "and they're now being shown where they need to go."
As she said that, Mr Weasley had finished and everyone began to move - faces solemn and scared but at the same time determined.
"So, whose team are we in?" Harry asked, frowning as his two friends exchanged looks, "what?"
"You need to tell him Ron," Hermione said urgently.
"I know, but…"
"But what," Harry interrupted impatiently, "what do you need to tell me Ron?" They looked at each other again before Ron took a deep breath and turned to Harry.
"It's just that," Ron started, pausing to look at Hermione again, who gave him an encouraging smile, then back to Harry, "well, I've improved a lot with Moody and fighting with this new leg and stuff. But I don't…I can't…I don't want to let you down Harry."
"Let me down?"
"I'm not fast enough," Ron tried to explain, "and I don't think I can cover your back like I should. I…I think you should go without me. I can stay here with McGonagall and organise things with her, defend the castle if needed, but…"
"I understand," Harry reassured, "and you're not letting me down." Ron gave a relieved grin.
"Thanks Harry."
"I better go," Harry began, "so, which team am I in?"
"You mean, we better go," Hermione interrupted.
"Hermione…" Harry tried to reason; now knowing that Ron wasn't coming with him, he felt himself wanting her to stay within the relative security of the castle walls as well.
"Don't you dare, Harry Potter!" she growled, hands on hips and eyes blazing, "don't you dare try and shut me out now! Accept the fact that I will be fighting by your side!" Harry sighed - it was worth a try.
"Okay, okay," he relented, "let's go. I hope no-one is waiting for us to join them."
"We thought it best that you two just help where needed," Ron explained quickly, "giving you the freedom to get to Voldemort when it's time."
"I don't think he's here yet," Harry answered thoughtfully, absently rubbing his scar as he watched the last team leave the hall, "I'm guessing he'll let me know when he arrives."
"Right," Ron replied, his eyes darting worriedly between Harry and Hermione, "well, I guess I'll see you guys later."
"Yeah," Harry said back. They stood looking uncomfortably at each other until Hermione let out a frustrated "for goodness sake!" and drew them both into a hug. He couldn't quite believe he was taking this next step without Ron but he knew it was for the best. The trio broke apart silently and with a small smile and wave, Harry and Hermione turned from Ron and made their way out of the Hall.
They stepped out onto the top of the main stairs and looked at the sight before them - which really wasn't much as darkness covered most of the grounds.
"This is madness," Remus said in hushed tones, joining Harry and Hermione from his team, "we need more light! We have no idea where they are!"
Harry was about to agree when it seemed that every light in Hogwarts lit up, blazing out of the many windows and out onto the grounds. Darkness was now punctuated with squares and rectangles of light, exposing the enemy at the school's boundaries.
"Sweet Merlin," Remus breathed and Harry knew exactly what he meant. There were hundreds of robed wizards and witches waiting to pounce as the last of the wards were removed. Behind them were giants, trolls and a multitude of other creatures that Harry didn't know or want to know.
Before he could think of anything else, there was a shimmer as the last of the wards came down - and the battle between the light and dark began. Remus was soon gone, joining his team in their appointed task, leaving Harry and Hermione alone at the top of the stairs.
"Harry," Hermione breathed, pointing to a heavy black mist in the distance, "what's that, do you think?"
Harry squinted as he tried to make it out, and then felt an unnatural chill. At first, he thought about the Horcruxes and how their release had made him feel the same - but dismissed that thought with the knowledge that that couldn't be the reason for the coldness. It then struck him what it was.
"Dementors," he exclaimed, making his way down the stairs. Battles were taking place before him, but Harry just took a calming breath and thought about his first kiss with Hermione, which melded into seeing his mum and dad, and then hearing from those who loved him - and with a thought, the bold, bright figure of a stag formed before him. It looked at Harry, who held its gaze, "keep the Dementors away from our people," he instructed, "come back to me before you disappear so I can form you again." With a shake of its mighty head, the stag bounded away, its brilliant whiteness leaving a trial behind it.
"You can command a patronus?" Hermione asked.
"I guess so," Harry replied before turning his attention on what was taking place around him. There were a multitude of battles happening and it seemed that even though the numbers on the dark side were great, their skill was not. The Hogwarts students were holding their own.
Harry watched as a group of twenty or so house-elves dashed into the fray and carried a fallen fifth year Hufflepuff into the castle, Nearly Headless Nick overseeing. Harry could make out quite a few of the ghosts then, floating around before returning every now and then to the castle with news.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Neville standing over the fallen body of Professor Sprout, firing off hexes to half a dozen or so dark fighters. He was alone, the other students that had gone with them to help with the greenhouses already seemingly returned to the castle with their spoils.
"Come on," he cried to Hermione, and dashed down to the edge of the glasshouses to help. He quickly incapacitated two of the attackers, allowing Neville to concentrate on those closer to him. Hermione soon joined in and as they came to Neville's side, Harry saw a new figure join the two remaining Death Eaters.
"We meet again Longbottom, baby Potter," the low drawl of Bellatrix Lestrange carried over the battle, "how fitting." Neville let of a silent hex that was easily defected before crouching down behind a fallen wheelbarrow, glancing at Harry, who had taken cover behind a massive shelf filled with plants.
"She's mine Harry," he said, his voice like steel, "that murdering cow is mine." Harry just nodded, covering Hermione who had begun to inspect the comatose professor. Bellatrix had killed Sirius but what she had done to Neville, if possible, was worse. Harry could understand his fellow Gryffindor's need to fight this battle himself.
"Sprout's alive," Hermione breathed, glancing up to Harry from Sprout's side, regaining his attention, "but she needs to get to the castle." Harry looked around for a ghost to inform, but saw none, unconsciously deflected attacking spells as he did so. He looked briefly down at Hermione.
"Can you take her?" he asked, firing a hex to the second to last Death Eater, seeing out of the corner of his eye Neville and Bellatrix were now engaged in a fierce duel, Neville doing more than okay.
"With help," Hermione barked back, "let's go." With a wave of her wand, Professor Sprout floated just above the ground, and reflecting off hex after hex, they made their way back to the castle, leaving Neville to fight his demon.
Harry's eyes seemed to be everywhere, constantly aware of any danger to Hermione, their charge or himself. They were up the top of the steps when a contingent of third years (under the watchful gaze of Lavender) joined them, taking the injured Herbology teacher back into the castle.
Once more, they turned back to the fighting. Harry saw a huge tentacle reach out from the lake in the distance and casually pull towards the water a number of dark fighters, who soon disappeared into the lake's inky depths. The next group of fighters tried taking a wider berth around the lake's edge, but the squid's reach was underestimated and they too met a watery death. Harry couldn't help but smile.
Hermione got his attention and indicated to one of the teams that were seriously out numbered. They both dashed towards their comrades, joining in as soon as they could much to the relief of those fighting. They saw it was Bill's team, their patch to defend close to Hagrid's hut and the forest. Bill had been wounded but not enough to take him out of the fight, his damaged face scowling in concentration, ghastly under the eerie light from the castle.
"Where's Hagrid?" Harry called out, disabling two Death Eaters bearing down on Bill.
"He and Grawp have gone into the forest to stop the giants," Bill shouted back, "and will deal with the trolls."
"Charlie?"
"With the centaurs," was the hasty reply, "many Death Eaters have died in the forest because of them."
Harry didn't answer and instead concentrated on the battle taking place in front of him. The fallen dark fighters were mainly very young or very old - they were just cannon fodder, protecting those that could truly fight. A part of Harry's mind wondered why Bellatrix had broken that mould and was at this moment exposed and fighting with Neville. But he didn't have time to ponder further as a horribly familiar face came into view.
Antonin Dolohov was striding towards them, his eyes fixed on the yet unknowing Hermione. Harry remembered the last time they met and how Hermione had nearly died because of Dolohov. The passing thought on how he got out of Azkaban crossed his mind but that wasn't his major concern.
Harry had mastered voiceless spell casting early on and now practiced it with ease. He continued to hex the witless numbers that had been sent to attack them, determined to intersect Dolohov before the Death Eater had a chance to get to Hermione.
He was nearly there, side tracked by a few more dark fighters that got in his way (who seemed to be there only to delay him). He was just about in range when Dolohov directed his wand at a still oblivious Hermione.
"Hermione!" Harry screamed, willing her to see her attacker and not turn to the sound of his voice. She spun towards Dolohov, seeing him just in time to put a block up - but not quite. The same slashing hex that he had attacked her with in the Ministry, he used again but this time it hit only her leg. She collapsed into a heap, holding her leg but still fighting furiously. Harry sprinted towards her, firing hex after hex, reaching her in near panic.
"I heard you," she gasped as he kneeled down next to her, inspecting her wound, "in my head, to look that way - I heard you!"
"Oh, how sweet," came a voice above them, Dolohov looking at them with disdain, "shame you have to die, girly-girl…" He raised his wand at the same time Harry did but neither fired a shot before the elder wizard collapsed into a pile in front of them.
"Sloppy Potter," came a sneering voice, "it wouldn't pay to get yourself killed now, would it?" Harry stood, helping Hermione to her feet to look into the black eyes of Severus Snape. Harry pointed his wand into the heart of his ex-potions teacher.
"I should kill you," Harry snarled, momentarily forgetting all that was taking place around him.
"Even after I just saved you and Granger's life?" Snape drawled, "that's very un-noble of you."
"You are a traitor…"
"I did what I had to do…"
"You killed Dumbledore…"
"He was already dying…"
"YOU KILLED DUMBLEDORE!" Harry yelled, his wand poking harder into Snape's chest.
"I did the old man a favour Potter or are you so dim-witted to see that! I had a job to do, a role to play - a role that he asked me to do! Putting Dumbledore out of his misery was a part of that role."
"Don't talk about him like he was a dog…"
"Or you'll do what? Kill me? You haven't yet. Besides, I know what your role is Potter, your little quest, which I think is drastically coming to an end."
Harry didn't move, he and Snape staring at each other with equal contempt. When Harry saw Snape's black eyes glance, for the briefest of moments, over Harry's shoulder, he knew something was up.
"Get down!" Snape yelled, ignoring the wand in his chest and roughly grabbing Harry and Hermione by the arm, dragging them down to the ground - a spell whizzing over their heads.
"What the…" Harry began.
"I don't plan in getting myself killed just so you and I can have a little chat," Snape hissed, "I am on your side Potter, get used to it." Snape quickly rose, fired off a spell in the direction they had just been fired at from, then promptly disappeared.
"Wait!" Harry called out, ready to chase after his nemesis, but felt a restraining hand on his arm. Turning, he looked into the frantic face of Hermione.
"Harry, we haven't got time for this," she stressed, "Snape just saved our lives because we weren't concentrating! We need to be more careful!" Harry looked around them and saw what could only be described as chaos. Pockets of fighting were going on everywhere, bodies littered the ground. Harry took a deep breath then looked back at Hermione.
"Are you alright?" he asked, looking down at her damaged leg, which she had healed at some point.
"I'm fine," she informed him as she went to stand, stumbling as the ground began to shake. Fighting paused momentarily as the rumbling of the earth got more profound, while a deep, guttural cry came from deep within the forest. They, along with many others, watched in fascination as the trees began to sway and disappear - an earth shattering call filled the air.
"Giants," Harry concluded quickly before returning to the battle taking place on the grounds of Hogwarts. It seemed the initial rush of unskilled opponents had run out as those now fighting against them were more able. Harry knew that those on the light would be tired, the 'fodder' had done their job, many paying with their lives. He recognised a few faces that were meant to be locked up in Azkaban making him realise that those on the dark side thought they had the upper hand and were going in for the kill. This thought brought an even stronger focus to Harry as he fought along side his friends, not letting the distraction of Snape deter him.
Standing next to Dean and Seamus as they protected Hermione (who was helping a dazed and bleeding forth year with some rudimentary healing skills) Harry was slightly taken by surprise when his view was blocked by his silvery stag. Remembering what he had done seemingly a lifetime ago, Harry once more concentrated on all his most happiest memories, passing his thoughts back to his patronus who departed with a gallop.
"What was that all about?" Dean asked as he threw up a shield as a curse headed his way.
"My patronus," Harry explained, glancing behind him and seeing Hermione was nearly finished, "it's keeping the dementors away."
"You've summoned a patronus, had it running around for nearly an hour and you're not even drawing a sweat?" Seamus exclaimed, amazed, "man, Harry - that's pretty amazing."
Harry didn't answer as he felt Hermione stand next to him, her patient once more able to join in the fight.
"Harry, I've just seen Bill go down," she informed him urgently, "we need to get him to the castle."
"We'll cover you two," Dean said as he and Seamus moved back to back so that Harry could join Hermione.
"Will you guys be alright?" Hermione asked, "Bill was your team leader, right?"
"With you guys here we've managed to hold the line and evened the numbers a bit," Seamus replied, "we'll be fine."
Harry and Hermione didn't argue and quickly made their way to the fallen redhead - he was a mess, but still alive. Hermione began to see what was wrong with him when the Grey Lady floated over to them.
"Harry, Hermione," the ghost breathed, "I will make sure Mr Weasley is taken care of. You are needed with Remus Lupin on the east side of the castle." Harry looked at Hermione with dread, immediately ready to make his way to where they knew Remus was. But before they could move, a loud, anguished cry filled the air, chilling Harry to the bone. He knew that voice.
"Hagrid," he groaned, looking behind him, back into the forest.
"There's nothing we can do," Hermione pleaded, her eyes also fixed at the forest, wide with fear, "Harry, we need to go. We have a better chance helping Lupin!"
Harry nodded numbly and with a deep breath, turned his back on the wizard who had introduced him to the world of magic. With a heavy heart, he began the dash towards Remus, wondering just who would survive this war.
Before they had reached their destination, their way was blocked by a small, trembling figure - still wearing the dress that she had been given three years ago.
"Winky," Harry acknowledged quickly, "what is it?"
"I's told to tell you that the snake is dead," she whimpered and then with a crack, disappeared.
"Naglini is gone," Hermione repeated softly, "the last of the Horcruxes is gone."
She looked at Harry who looked back at her with a grim realisation. But they had a more immediate task to take care of, and without saying anything more they both turned and continued to the east side of the castle.
It took a while for them to get to the spot where Remus's team had been stationed - and saw the Marauder in a fierce struggle with Fenrir Greyback. They slunk to the side of the castle as they assessed the situation - numerous little half hearted battles were taking place around the main fight in the middle (nearly everyone's attention was focused on Greyback and Lupin). The numbers were heavily lopsided towards the dark fighters, yet it seemed the dark side wasn't really even trying. Harry got the impression that because their leader was distracted, their heart for killing had disappeared, firing only defensive spells rather than attacking.
Although drawn to the hand-to-hand combat taking place before him, Harry continued to cast his eye across the battlefield and saw, waiting in the shadows of the castle, the cowering, nervous figure of Peter Pettigrew. The traitor was watching the fight with rabid fascination and didn't notice Harry until he was nearly upon him.
Eyes wide, Wormtail glanced briefly at the approaching Harry before darting towards the wrestling werewolves - a wrestle that Remus was loosing.
"No!" Harry screamed, seeing where Wormtail was heading, casting out a spell that harmlessly hit a tree Peter hid behind. Within moments, Pettigrew had reached his destination, unnoticed by Greyback and Lupin. With a strength that Harry didn't know the runty little man had, Wormtail dragged the large werewolf off of the injured Remus, before firing a reducto spell into Fenrir's chest. Fenrir looked down at the wound that had appeared, and with what could only be described as a feral grin, looked back at Wormtail.
"You can't kill me, you worthless little rat," Fenrir snarled, closing in on the visibly shaking Wormtail, "it takes more than a spell."
"I know," Peter replied and before Fenrir knew what was happening, Peter thrust his silver hand into the still open gash in the werewolf's chest. Fenrir looked down in surprise before letting out a blood curling scream and falling onto the ground. Peter stared at his bloody hand before looking at the stunned face of Harry.
"My debt to you is paid," Peter said before disappearing before Harry's eyes, a rat scouring off into the forest. Harry vaguely remembered Dumbledore telling him that the fact Harry hadn't killed Peter when he was first revealed four years ago might be a good thing and it seemed that yet again the old headmaster had been right.
"Harry," Hermione called, interrupting his thoughts, "Remus needs help." Harry looked down at his fallen friend and saw that he was indeed in a bad way. Hermione was frantically trying to stop some of the bleeding, but the wounds were having trouble healing.
All around them, the fighters on the dark side were dropping their wands and surrendering. Harry remembered Remus telling them that most of the werewolves were too scared to stand up against Fenrir - now that he was gone, they no longer wanted to fight. Those on the light were confused, not sure what to do. Harry needed to make a decision.
"Do you need help to get Remus back?" he asked Hermione.
"Yes," Hermione shot back, frowning, "and that will be you, right?"
"I need to stay here," Harry informed her quickly, his eyes darting around as he worked out what to do, "I'll get someone else to help you."
He knew she was going to say something, tell him that she wasn't going to leave him, so without giving her the chance, he left her and made his way to two figures that he recognised amongst the students before him.
"Hey Harry," Hannah Abbott called out to him when he was close enough, "who was that guy? Is Professor Lupin okay?"
"No he isn't," Harry replied briskly, "could you go with Hermione and take the professor back to the castle? She needs protection. Ginny," Harry dismissed Hannah, who quickly made her way to Hermione, and turned his attention to the youngest Weasley, "we need to secure these prisoners, can your team do it?"
"My team?" Ginny questioned, glancing sideways at Harry.
"You're the most senior fighter here," Harry commanded, "this is your team now. What do you think?" Harry waited as Ginny thought things over, noticing that the group of around fifty fighters had meekly sat down and raised their hands in the air, their wands collected making them all powerless.
"Yes," Ginny finally said, full of confidence, "we can immobilise them until a more permanent arrangement can be found. I probably don't require everyone either, a selection can join in with the other figh…Harry!"
Harry had been listening to her when the familiar prickle began in his scar which quickly grew into a searing pain, making him fall to his knees in agony. The image of Dumbledore's tomb filled his mind and with a dull realisation, Harry knew what it meant. For the first time since leaving the castle, he felt the sword that was strapped to his hip, its hardness pressing into his thigh.
And although he was vaguely aware of Ginny kneeling beside him, worriedly asking if he was okay, it was to Hermione he looked to for comfort. She had moved on but when he looked in the direction he knew she should be, he could see her and as if called, she turned around and looked straight back at him. The image of her soothed the ache in his head, giving him the strength to stand.
"I'm fine," Harry said carelessly to Ginny, his eyes still locked with Hermione. He watched as Hannah said something to her, taking her attention for a moment before turning back to him. He tried to tell her how much he loved her, how much she meant to him and that it was now time for him to carry on alone - all with a distant look.
He could see in her eyes her fear and the knowledge that she would be with him, no matter what. Then with purpose, Harry turned away, rested his hand on the sword's hilt and ignoring Ginny's questions, strode off in the direction of Dumbledore's tomb.