The Battle Standard
by Jardyn39
AN: Did you miss the previous Chapter ("Clearing the Tracks")? This chapter is posted a little early because I'll be away tomorrow.
Chapter 19 - Fell
The train safely crossed the points and thundered out of the forest and dived into a tunnel leading under the far hill.
Almost at once it came to a sudden halt at an underground station platform.
More soldiers, most wearing first aid armbands, were there to help the passengers off the train and tend to the wounded.
"Harry?"
Harry was still shaking with fury, having shouted himself hoarse at the attacking helicopters.
Bateman had no idea what had upset Harry, but a young Corporal said, "One of those giant creatures yielded and had turned back before he was hit."
Bateman nodded in understanding.
"Come on down, lad," he said gently, and the three soldiers who had grabbed Harry to stop him jumping off and attacking the helicopters, finally let him go.
Harry found himself being pulled to one side so the busy medical attendants could work without interference.
Bateman waited until Harry calmed a little. Finally, Harry looked up at him.
"What about the tunnel entrance?" asked Harry. "Won't it be vulnerable?"
"It's hidden," Bateman assured him. "I expect our friends will skirt around the hill and make their escape."
Harry looked down and explained why he'd been so angry.
"They were firing indiscriminately. That giant was moving away. He was helpless, thanks to me. He couldn't defend himself."
"Harry, there is no way the helicopter crews could know that. When you were firing into the forest, could you tell if everyone you hit was no longer a threat?"
Harry shook his head no.
"Of course not," agreed Bateman quietly. "These kinds of thing and much worse are a product of war. You don't have to like it, but you need to accept it happens. It will continue to happen so long as man pursues conflict as a means to resolve disputes."
Harry sighed deeply.
"That's quite perceptive for you, you know?"
"Someone had to tell me something similar a few years ago," Bateman said with a smile. "Come on, or we'll miss the Fell."
*
"What's a Fell?" asked Harry again as he was shoved into a small carriage.
"A fell railway, Harry, is like a funicular railway except the traction wheels operate on a third track instead of using cables to pull the train up a steep incline."
"What's a funicular railway?" asked Harry.
Bateman just grinned in the semi-darkness and slammed the door shut before climbing further up the steep platform steps.
Harry sat down on one of the hard wooden seats, feeling the vibration of an engine somewhere.
He looked around by the light of the feeble electric light on the sloping ceiling. Every surface was painted bright green and the windows were just unglazed openings. Harry could smell a peculiar mix of steam and oil in the air.
The whole carriage was inclined upwards at about forty-five degrees. The seats were level, but everything else, including the floor, ceiling and doors were slanted at the same steep angle.
There was a loud buzzer and then all the lights went out.
Almost at once the carriage lurched upwards, accompanied by a rhythmic clanking metallic sound.
Harry began to become aware of chatting elsewhere, so he resisted the impulse to cry out.
Gradually, the tunnel began to grow lighter and then suddenly they were back in the open air. Harry was in the last carriage, so he could see that the tiny train was climbing up the steep side of the hill.
Shading his eyes until he got used to the relative brightness of the sun, he noticed that there was a third toothed track. He supposed this was used by the traction wheels Bateman had spoken about but was curious to see what kind of engine was pulling them up the hill.
They soon climbed high enough to see over the tops of the trees.
Harry couldn't see where the tunnel entrance was, but he could now see the entire valley and most of the clearing where the camp was.
He stood and skidded down to the rear window opening.
Resting his hands on the polished brass bar over the sill he looked on open mouthed at the vista before him. The entire forest within the valley was covered in dense smoke. It looked like a fine mist with the treetops just poking through.
He could only hear indistinct sounds from this distance, but he could see the flashes of orange flame and the shock waves of explosions. There were few areas where the forest had caught fire, though.
It seemed the entire valley was being systematically bombed by the helicopters now. He counted at least six flying low and stirring up the smoke. There was no letup at all, since when the helicopters were clear, massive guns fired down from the surrounding hilltops.
Any Death Eaters trapped down there had no hope of escape, he reminded himself, since they could not Disapparate or use magic to defend themselves.
He knew at once that he was witnessing the trap set by Miss Alice. Voldemort's forces had entered the valley to help the others contained within the camp. The idea hadn't been to defend the camp at all, but to keep the camp contained and make the outsiders come to them.
Harry tried to see where the village was, but it was impossible.
He sat, turning his back to the carnage, wondering how the buildings could possibly have survived. He immediately felt ashamed to be thinking of mere buildings when so much loss of life was happening right in front of him.
*
Now sitting facing the front of the train, Harry became aware that Miss Alice and Bateman had been sitting right behind him. He sat numbly, listening to their conversation.
"I suppose you expect me to recommend the young Lieutenant for promotion?"
"Give the kid a chance, will you? He only discovered he had a spine today."
"He did rather well, by all accounts. Captain?"
"Soon, perhaps. Be sure to give him a decent Staff Sergeant, though."
"Outrageous!" said Miss Alice with a smile, but making a note. "Anyone would think the army is run by Sergeants."
"Good officers are not born. They are made by good Sergeants."
Miss Alice smiled and turned around to make some remark to Harry.
Her smile faltered.
"There's a massacre going on down there!" shouted Harry angrily. He was about to say how inappropriate he thought it was to be making jokes at a time like this, but he'd often heard Bateman's own unit make macabre jokes after they had killed. He didn't want his rebuke to be felt by Bateman, so he settled on just glaring at Miss Alice.
"It was regrettable but necessary, Harry."
"Why?"
"It became clear some time ago that I'd lost control of what was going on in the camp. Very little genuine intelligence came out of the place but it was clear that our forces controlling the internal camp security had been compromised.
"As wizards were sent into the camp they were screened again. We have no proof, but it seems likely that they either became Voldemort recruits or were killed. They were contaminated, so they had to be dealt with.
"Harry, war isn't a sport with rules. They had to be eliminated and they were. We also couldn't afford to have any newly created werewolves escape."
"Why did you allow the village to be populated with civilians?" asked Hermione, who had been sitting opposite them.
"The camp occupants would have been too suspicious. It had to look like the camp was just an expansion of our asylum facilities. It was hard enough hiding all the additional forces all around here."
It occurred to Harry that Miss Alice would probably consider those civilians as expendable too.
The train shuddered to a halt and Miss Alice hurried out, preventing Harry from having a chance to respond.
*
Harry and Hermione were the last to leave the train and climb up to a flat concrete base at the very top of the hill. To their side were a number of small field tents and a large canopy with tables under.
Ahead they could see railings and a complicated steel tower with a wide viewing platform leaning out over the edge.
At various points along the railings, binoculars and telescopes were provided on swivel posts.
Several military people were gathering along the lower railing but Miss Alice and Bateman were climbing the stairs to the higher platform.
Harry walked across and began to climb the stairs with Hermione immediately behind. As they climbed, Harry was reminded of something that occurred to him when they first flew over the area. The view ahead was of a patchwork quilt of fields that were more or less flat. This made the group of isolated hills forming the forest valley seem quite out of place.
At the top, Hermione peered down over the railing but immediately pulled back and grabbed Harry's arm.
"This is higher than I thought," she observed.
Harry smiled and looked over himself. There was a shear drop below, not entirely unlike the view he normally had when diving towards the ground on his Firebolt.
He looked up and realised that everyone was looking out towards a point in the distance.
Miss Alice picked up a telephone receiver from a small box by the railing and asked someone to confirm the exact position of the enemy.
Harry squinted into the distance but could see little apart from a little smoke. There were rain clouds forming now and it was difficult to see very far.
If they had got as far as the smoke, though, he thought, they had travelled very quickly.
Hermione touch his arm and handed him a handheld pair of binoculars.
"Thanks," he said, taking them and looking out again.
With the binoculars, he thought he could see flashes of colour amongst the smoke, but it wasn't clear.
"Over there," said someone from below, pointing out to the side.
A group of five helicopters were approaching the smoke, flying fast at very low level. Harry knew that the people on the ground would have little warning of the attack.
Suddenly there was a group of several orange flashes. A few seconds later they heard the dull bangs of the explosions.
"Why don't they Disapparate or Portkey away?" asked Harry.
"They can't, not yet," said Miss Alice. "Their long stay in valley has affected them. It will be a few days before they can Disapparate completely normally and they probably don't know how to make a safe Portkey."
There was another bright flash and one of the helicopters crashed silently in a bright orange ball of flame.
"They are not entirely defenceless, as you can see," said Miss Alice. "Fortunately we have planned a route for them that remains relatively unpopulated. We can pick them off from a safe distance."
"I don't understand," said Hermione. "Why did you let them out of the valley if all you are going to do is butcher them?"
"Voldemort," replied Miss Alice. "He'll know we can kill this force off within only a few days, but they still have some use. He knows it will be tight, but they'll have just enough time to launch a single attack. They are reduced in numbers, but within his ranks down there he has some of his very best personnel."
There was flash as another helicopter came down.
A senior looking army officer standing next to Miss Alice picked up the telephone and said, "Withdraw the air attack and commence ground attack when they are clear. Are the tanks and long range guns in place? Good. Tell me the moment your spotters can confirm the direction the enemy is moving towards."
The helicopters fired a few more missiles into the distant smoke but then flew off to safety. Almost at once, loud bangs filled the air.
Harry looked down and watched as a long line of advancing tanks fired another volley.
The telephone rang and Miss Alice picked up the receiver. She had to make the person on the other end of the phone wait until the guns went silent so she could hear.
"I'm really not sure about this," muttered Bateman, lowering his binoculars.
Harry looked at him, and then at Miss Alice.
"Say again," she was repeating. "What direction?"
The senior officer took the receiver from her and Miss Alice sat down shakily. Her demeanour had changed completely.
"This is Smythe. Please repeat that last message."
"They're heading north," said Bateman.
"Hogwarts," breathed Hermione.
"They were supposed to go south," said Miss Alice absently. "They have to go south. London is in the south."
"Mary," said Bateman gently. "Why would Voldemort send them south to London? His priority has to be to take Hogwarts. Once he's established there, he can attack anywhere else at his leisure."
"No, he was only supposed to think that at first."
"And?"
"He should have discounted that because London represents the greatest risk to him personally."
"But he's obsessed with Hogwarts," Harry reminded her.
"He'll also know that the wizards in the camp will have been training in Muggle warfare techniques," said Hermione. "Voldemort is arrogant enough to consider them more than a match for whatever you have waiting for them in London."
Miss Alice turned her back to the battlefield.
"We'll just have to pick them off along the way north," said Bateman.
"That may not work," said Miss Alice. "All of our forces are waiting for them along a corridor stretching south. We couldn't cover the north because there are too many towns and major roads that way."
Bateman descended the stairs and walked over to a map table which was under the large canvas canopy. Harry and the others followed.
"We'll never mobilise in time," observed Lieutenant Pembrooke, who had been studying the maps for some time. "I suggest we pick a battleground and make a stand."
"How long have we got?" asked Bateman.
"No more than two days," said Miss Alice. "After that, the effects of the valley won't help us very much."
It dimly registered with Harry that although he'd been affected when they had approached the camp, he had actually performed magic against the Giants. He made a mental note to ask Hermione how she thought this might be possible.
"Okay," said Pembrooke. "I think they will commandeer road transport and travel north along these two main roads."
Miss Alice picked up a telephone and said firmly, "Get me the Prime Minister."
A moment later she had requested a complete closure of the main north-south roads and railways. She later explained they would organise an official strike to withdraw the train services and stage a number of unfortunate road accidents. The police would keep the roads closed for as long as possible.
As an extra measure, small airports along the route would be closed as well.
"Alright," continued Pembrooke, clearly a little surprised that Miss Alice had the authority to bring the country to a halt. "How quickly do we think they can travel?"
"We calculated that if they stay together as a group, they can manage no more than fifteen miles per hour. There are too many for brooms and flying carpets, so they'd need to levitate and tow each other."
"Surely they'll just call for help?" said Hermione.
"No," said Miss Alice. "We are reasonably confident that most of Voldemort's resources were employed to get his men out of the camp."
Bateman and Pembrooke looked down and both nodded as Pembrooke's finger came to rest on a spot.
"Here. Dawn tomorrow."
Smythe looked down and nodded in agreement.
*
While Bateman and Pembrooke hurried to organise and mobilise their forces, Harry and Hermione sat down with Miss Alice. She seemed very shaken that Voldemort hadn't followed her plans and this prevented Harry from venting his anger at her.
Harry listened as the sounds of the distant battle continued.
"How much does the Prime Minister know about all this?" he asked as Hermione made them tea.
"Nothing, Harry. He only knew we were planning an offensive. This has all happened far sooner than we'd anticipated."
"I have to ask you this," said Harry. "Did you really know nothing about the torture going on in that place?"
"I suspected something like it might be going on, but there was no direct evidence."
"But the ends justified the means?"
"Yes. I'm not proud to admit it, but yes. I suppose I knew it was inevitable. After all, we started it by threatening their families."
"What?" said Hermione, spilling some tea.
"But they were hollow threats, right?"
"Have you any idea what some of those prisoners had done, Harry?"
"So? If their families were involved they should be tried, but they shouldn't be held responsible for what someone else did."
"Why did you allow wizards with such obviously dark tendencies to enter the camp?"
"They were contained there. We thought we had them under control."
"But in fact they had you under control, didn't they?"
"Yes."
"Scrimgeour won't be happy about committing too many forces to help us stop them."
"No. They are stretched as it is."
"That's not really what I meant," said Harry. "Scrimgeour was quite convinced that you would seize power at some point if you could. From his perspective, it might look like you are forcing the Ministry and Voldemort into an all-out attack that must reduce the numbers on both sides. You have far greater numbers."
Miss Alice shrugged and sipped her tea.
"You said you suspected what was going on in the camp. How did you plan to deal with them?"
"There was a court set up. They were trying their cases and had the authority to sentence convicted prisoners to death."
"Except Voldemort's supporters were usually found not guilty?"
"I think we can safely assume his detractors were punished, though."
Harry sighed and clenched his fists, trying to calm himself before he said what he knew he had to say.
"Your actions have weakened us considerably. We needed the people who were murdered in that camp. We'll also never know how many survivors like Barlow died in the valley when you opened fire."
"I know."
"What is in London that is supposed to be such a threat to Voldemort?"
"It doesn't really matter now," she said sadly. "I had hoped to give you a minor advantage, but it was always going to end in a battle for Hogwarts."
"Please, don't tell me you intended us to fight like this."
"Of course that's what I intended. If you wait much longer the Ministry will have nothing to fight with."
"We're not ready," said Harry angrily.
"Harry, Hermione told me a little the extra training you've been receiving. Believe me, you are ready."
"Voldemort cannot be killed yet. Even if we do survive and eliminate every one of his supporters, he cannot be killed. He'll always come back; except next time he'll be even harder to track down."
"What are you not telling me?"
"I have no intention of telling you anything," said Harry angrily. "All you need to know is that every death we suffer will be a waste."
"But-"
"No. Listen to me now," said Harry abruptly, cutting across her. "If you ever do anything that places the wizarding community in danger like this again, I'll fight you and your entire army if I have to."
"Harry, I'm on your side."
"Voldemort has used you. Welcome to the club; you're in good company."
"He wants power, Harry. That's how we can hurt him. We can eliminate his entire power base."
"He isn't human enough to hurt anymore," said Harry, getting to his feet. "I'm going to see Scrimgeour now and try to persuade him to help protect Hogwarts when they break through our lines. Tell Bear that I'll be back at the battlefield before dawn."
*
Harry took Hermione off to one side before he left for London.
"I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I have to try and get Scrimgeour to help protect Hogwarts if he can."
"I understand, Harry."
"Get your parents to Grimmauld Place, will you? They will be safe there."
"I'd like to, but how?"
Harry picked up a tent peg and asked, "What time?"
"Better make it for a couple of hours time at least."
The tent peg glowed electric blue for a moment.
"Thanks."
"Try to get Mary to talk, will you?" asked Harry. "I want to know that this threat that is supposed to be in London is."
"Yes. Do you think it might be a trick?"
"Yes, but I'm sure the deception isn't that straightforward. I don't believe all this was such a surprise. She considers everything, and she must have considered them heading North."
"So, Voldemort might well be headed where she intended, then?"
"Well, his supporters may be, anyway. I think Voldemort will try to attack Hogwarts and London at the same time."
"I'll try to find out what I can," promised Hermione.
Harry paused and took hold of her hand. Her other hand had been healed but still looked a little red and sore.
"I had hoped we could have talked," said Harry gently.
Hermione's face flushed red and it panged him to see her in pain. She turned away as her eyes began to well with tears.
Harry sighed and went off to have a quick word with Bateman before he went.