Warning: Reading fanfiction may lead to pregnancy, seizures, cancer, spontaneous organ rejection, global warming, divorce and heart attacks.
Regression of a Wizard
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Everyone in town, including the attacking Death eaters, paused in their malicious games; gazes forced towards the lake as the horrible sound ripped through the village. Evil grins slowly began spreading among the dark cloaked ones, hidden beneath every white mask present.
It would appear that their Master had found the boy.
Across Hogsmeade in front of the Three Broomsticks, two friends had paused to catch their breath in the lull of the battle. The red-haired one sat up straight as he looked, horrified, in the direction of the sound.
"That's Harry!" he gasped, eyes wide.
"Bastards!" Hermione snarled, viciously re-stunning stunning a fallen Death Eater before taking off in the direction of their wayward friend. Couldn't that boy ever manage to stay out of trouble?
Ron, initially surprised at her outburst, was able to get in a nice kick to their downed foe while Hermione wasn't looking and set off after her. The anti-apparition field weighted heavily against their minds and magic.
Without warning, a silvery ribbon lashed out from nowhere, barely missing Hermione as Ron knocked her to the ground and out of harm's way. The spell neatly bisected a tree that happened to be in the way, splitting the trunk and sending the top half through the roof of a house. Both students rolled to their feet, wands pointing in the direction the spell had come from.
Bellatrix Lestrange serenely stepped from the shadows of an alleyway, wand raised and her face set in the mocking sneer that seemed to be her default expression.
"Aw, widdle mudblood fall dooown?" she sing-songed in that annoying baby voice of hers.
This time around, the woman looked much healthier than when they had last seen her. She was as pale as ever, but her hair was no longer wild and unkempt and her robes fit her form much better. She no longer looked emaciated, but rather her body had begun to regain the fullness that had once made her obviously attractive in her younger years. Her face, while striking, was much too hard to ever be called beautiful. It was in her eyes that you saw the madness.
Still, she isn't at all bad looking, for an insane psychopath anyway, Ron thought absently.
Both students kept their eyes and wands warily trained on Bellatrix, stories of the legendary dueler flashing through their minds. This was the woman who killed Sirius Black mere months ago and neither was going to take chances with her.
Bella grinned, seeing the hesitation in their eyes.
"Where's the wee babies in such a hurry to run off to?" Her eyes widened in mock surprise. "Oooh, you're off to help your little friend aren't you?" She cooed, stepping forward slowly, her wand alternating between the two. She tsk'd with each movement. "Now we can't have you two interrupting the Dark Lord's fun now can we?" The gravel crunched loudly under her leather boots, shattering the silence as she advanced.
"Since when is torturing innocent people considered fun?" Hermione demanded, though behind the scenes her mind was working at a furious pace. She tried recalling a conversation regarding Lestrange she had with Tonks shortly after the start of summer. "…dueling champion '73 and '76…creator of the Mortanius curse…one of the original followers of Tom Riddle…few alive who have landed a spell on her and lived…" Tonks' voice rang over and over.
She was good. No, she was better than good, but she wasn't the best. She could be beaten. Sirius had bested her in school. James Potter had taken her on and won many times also. But Sirius and James were dead. Tonks…well, even the Auror admitted to being afraid of the woman.
Harry had hit her…once. Hadn't he?
"Since third year," Bella replied easily, breaking Hermione out of her thoughts. "I discovered my particular talents on a wee firstie." She closed her eyes and sighed fondly. "Little bitch could never fully use her right hand again."
Ron slowly began working his way around Bellatrix, Hermione taking the opposite side. It was much harder dueling two people if they were spaced wider apart. At least that was the theory. Bella hardly looked concerned with the prospect of facing two sixth years.
Of course, she didn't know that they had been studying offensive and defensive magic way more advanced than what your average run of the mill Hogwarts student would know. Along with Harry, the three of them were considerably further along then the rest of the D.A. could ever imagine. Hermione doubted that even Dumbledore knew the true extent of their knowledge. They had trained for moments like this. Hour after hour had been spent honing their skills in the Room of Requirement, training for scenario after scenario that Harry devised.
Whether it was capturing Pettigrew, fighting Greyback the werewolf, dueling Lucius or Bellatrix; they always emerged from the room bruised, sweaty and tired, but more confident in their abilities. That was the wonderful thing about the Room of Requirements; it could conjure up a staggering variety of opponents for virtually any skill level. Dementors, lethifolds, centaurs, vampire, giants…the kids had run through each setting dozens of times, honing themselves against the forces Voldemort was likely to employ.
Then, there were the matches against Voldemort himself. Those were never pretty. They had never won a single fight against the Dark Lord. He apparently came with only one skill setting: executioner. Voldemort on three, against two, and finally against Harry single-handily; privately those sessions worried her the most. Harry had never let them watch him battle Riddle by himself. That little detail bothered her more than she cared to admit.
In all their training sessions, one thing had become startling clear: the best way to fight an opponent like Bellatrix was a single, continuous chain of only their most powerful charms. Only using a virtual tidal wave of power would they prove themselves the victors. If she had learned anything about Bellatrix, it was that she was startlingly fast and virtually impossible to surprise. Even while taunting them, she was prepared to unleash her spells.
Hermione tried to catch Ron's eye, wanting to convey what she needed him to do. A pointed look from her just returned a confused one from Ron. She couldn't be any more obvious in what she intended to do because Bella was now watching her as she droned on about her various tortures.
Blast it all, Hermione thought viciously, if it was only Harry here with me, he'd understand exactly what I was trying to say. Stupid, thick, prat.
It was too late anyway. Hermione knew what she had to do. She could only hope Ron remembered their lessons and followed accordingly. Ron shrugged his shoulders minutely as if to say, what the hell?
"Lancious!"
As Hermione predicted, Bella turned towards the movement, launching her first curse at directly at Ron's heart. It fit with her that she would fire at the male first. Somehow, it was both sexist and insulting.
Preempting the strike, Hermione's wand blurred as she also cast her spell towards Ron.
"Obex Marmor!"
A marble slab burst forth from the ground intercepting the Lancing curse neatly before it could skewer her best friend through. Ron hadn't been idle though. He had leapt to the side as the Bellatrix's curse punched through the marble slab, twisting nimbly as he returned the favor. A massive burst of stone and wind sandblasted Bella, who crouched behind her hastily erected shield. Unfortunately for her, it only covered a single area directly in front. Flecks of stone and sand buffeted her from three other sides, burning her skin and eyes. Caught off guard by her blindness, her will faltered and she was blasted backwards into the darkness of the alleyway from which she had emerged. The shards of her shield faded into the ether.
Ron hastily stood out from behind his protective barrier as countless flickers of bluish light flared steadily from Hermione's wand. The entry way to alley was quickly buried under nearly ten tons of large, heavy boulders. Well that had been surprisingly easy.
Hermione quickly lowered her wand as she looked towards Ron, whose face was extremely pale. It contrasted sharply against his red hair and freckles.
"Oh she's going to be right pissed now," he moaned pitifully.
Hermione's face was set in grim determination. "We didn't have time to play with her. Riddle is going to kill Harry, we have got to hurry."
She took off through the twists and turns of Hogsmeade, steadily making her way towards the lake. Her black and maroon cloak billowed out behind her as Ron was forced into jogging to keep up. Even with his much longer legs, he had to push himself to stay with the petite little witch. Man she could get so fired up sometimes. Both, however, were breathing heavily.
They cut across a second alleyway and darted from cover to cover, continuously scanning every direction for Death Eaters. Covering each other, they dashed across the street making their way towards the entryway to Madame Puddifoot's tea shop, stopping briefly before creeping towards a pathway behind the Hog's Head.
Hermione peeked cautiously around the corner of the building towards the square beyond. She could barely make out the fountain and wishing pool in the center. Figures were scurrying across the plaza, but she couldn't tell if they were friend or foe. Ron kept his hand firmly on her shoulder as he kept grimly an eye on the vicinity behind them, ready for any attacks that might come.
Flashes of multicolored light reflected off of the light stone archways and windows of the structures across from them. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh hung heavily on the air, forcing both of them to breathe through their mouths or risk gagging. It was the sounds oddly enough that bothered Ron the most. It was deathly quiet for long periods of time when screams and crashes would echo around them for brief moments before falling silent again. In the maze of cobblestone streets and housing, it was nary impossible to tell where, or whom, they were coming from. Ron wondered if this is what Harry had felt like as he was running through the hedge maze during the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament.
An inn two streets over was going up in flames, the orange tongues licking upwards, casting a fiery glow in the sky above them. It wouldn't be long before the smoke obscured everything. If someone didn't put the fires out, it wouldn't be long either before the entire town caught ablaze.
"What now?" Ron gasped as he struggled to catch his breath.
"It's a clear shot from here to the Ugly Duckling Inn, but…"
He grimaced. "So? Let's go then. What's the problem?"
"The problem is that it's a clear shot, Ronald!" She said exasperatedly, pointedly stressing the word `shot.' Merlin, what I wouldn't give for an invisibility cloak right about now. Her eyes darted from dark corner to corner, carefully scanning the entire expanse in one go. Either the figures from earlier had run on, or were cleverly hidden, waiting in ambush to pick off anyone foolish enough to risk strolling through. The several bodies scattered throughout the square made her think it was the latter.
Hermione growled deep in her throat, an odd sound, yet strangely menacing sound coming from her. "I don't like this one bit. We should never have separated from Seamus and Pavarti. I can't see anyone from this angle and there is no way of knowing who's controlling the streets." She pulled her head back around the side and turned to face Ron. "Where are the teachers and Aurors for heaven's sake? It's been nearly fifteen minutes since the attack began!"
Ron shrugged. "Who knows? I haven't seen any students since we left the Hogs Head." He twirled his wand in between his fingers. "We've got Death Eaters in front of us, behind us, and closing in on both sides. Either way we go, we're going to have to cut through some of them. Why not just push straight on through?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly! Think, oh master strategist," she said scathingly. "There's no cover between here and there. One well aimed shot and we're done for." She glanced back towards the fountain and then further down the street. "We go around. It'll take longer, but it's the safest route."
"Bullshit, Hermione," he snarled. "As you just so eloquently put, they're going to kill Harry. It's going to take time that we don't have to give. They could already have him!"
"No, Ronald," she replied, stressing his name. "We play this safe. We're no good to anybody dead. Especially Harry!" With that, she decisively turned on her heel and made to go further down the road, her wand once again at the ready. They would not argue at a time like this! She would have gone on too, if it had not been for the heavy footfalls of her companion rushing headlong behind her and into the city center.
She turned around just in time to catch a glimpse of red hair dash towards the cascading pool and the small ledge surrounding it. Hermione sucked in a breath, cursing the young Weasley quite fluently in four different languages before sprinting after him. Ron was two thirds of the way to his goal, mere seconds away from reaching safety, when the first spell lanced out from the top of a four story building.
The sickly green curse needed no introductions for they were all too familiar with its results.
Ron reacted instantly, throwing himself haphazardly the rest of the distance towards the low wall. He rolled awkwardly to a stop, his chin and knees receiving the brunt of his impact were both bleeding and torn. He pulled himself as close to the stone edge as he could before peeking his wand and the top of his head over, ready to return fire. He had entirely missed where the spell had originated.
Hermione, on the other hand, redoubled her sprint. Her wand traced a near perfect circle in the air, clear, icy blue lines trailing its tip before she thrust it outward in the direction of their assailants.
A circle gouged into the stonework of the building. The answering wall of fire that rolled towards her was somewhat cowing.
Again, she raised her stone barrier (granite this time), forcing it to rise and cup over her head, barely protected her from the scorching heat as it slammed into her shield. Ron followed Hermione's direction and shot three curses in rapid succession. An obscuring black fog, a blasting curse, and an acid mist blinded, choked, and forced anyone left alive on that rooftop to take cover. A quick hand motion to Hermione and moments later she was by his side.
She looked angrier than he had ever seen her before.
"Move!" she hissed furiously. He needed no further prompting.
A flurry of spells came from three different directions, their passing searing the air with an incandescent glow. While none of dark curses scored any direct hits, it was an unpleasant situation nonetheless. The side of a nearby shop blew outwards in a shower of debris, sending stones and mortar in all directions. The wizards were wisely using powerful area effect spells, similar to the ones the two teens had been using, knowing well that they would almost have no chance of landing a spell directly on either of them from such a distance.
The cobblestone path directly in front of them suddenly melted into glowing, molten rock. A quick flame freezing charm and they were across the obstacle and into an alleyway leading towards the lake. Ron turned and moments later conjured a rather lopsided brick wall. Hermione quickly reinforced it with a moderate, but long lasting, shield charm.
They ran on for a few moments, taking two lefts and a right before halting for a moment in the shadow of an archway to catch their breath. Ron lay against the wall panting heavily while Hermione was bent nearly double, her back heaving. She straightened abruptly, a deadly gleam in her eye, before she turned and slapped Ron hard across the face.
His head slammed back against the bricks with a most satisfying `thunk.'
Ron futilely clutched at the back of his injured skull, his eyes shut tight in pain. "What in the nine blazing circles of hell was that for?" he cried indignantly.
Her lips curled into a menacing snarl. Although whatever scathing reply that was perched upon the tip of her tongue ready to be delivered would forever remain a mystery. At that moment a crackling sound similar to hundreds of ice cubes rubbing together reverberated throughout the small street.
Both teens quickly looked towards the intrusion, both of Hermione's eyes wide in terror and Ron's still squinting in pain, watched in horror as the air shimmered and warped as tiny, electric blue sparks rippled in the summer air. A hole nearly six feet in diameter was slowly being torn open in the very fabric of space. She could barely make out several shadowed figures moving behind the disturbance. She raised her wand and pointed at their visitors.
"Ron," she whispered urgently. "We need to leave. We need to leave now!" She began backing away towards another intersecting alleyway, her other hand reaching out to bodily drag her best friend with her. Before them, the air seemed to bulge and strain one final time as a great ripping echoed around them followed by a sickly `squelch!'
Six black and gold clad Ministry Aurors dropped neatly to the cobblestone pavement, knees bent in a combat ready crouch. Their wands were raised, ready for trouble as they branched out carefully securing the alley. Instantly two of the Auror's spotted the teens and moved hastily towards them. Hermione sagged in relief, lowering her wand, as she recognized the hulking form of the black, bald headed Auror striding towards them.
"Ron, Hermione! Are you two okay? Where's Harry?" he demanded.
"Shacklebolt! Thank Merlin!" breathed Ron. The large Auror's eyes swiveled to the lanky young man. "It only took you guys twenty bloody minutes to get here!"
Shacklebolt's reply was interrupted as two more rips and a squelch followed as two grey clad wizards hit.
"Unspeakables!" Ron exclaimed in surprise and Shacklebolt rolled his eyes.
"Let the whole world know, why don't you?" He growled out. Ron at least had the decency to look properly ashamed. "It took us twenty minutes to tear through the bloody anti-apparition wards around the place. You-Know-Who must have set the wards himself. It took eight of them to knock a hole big enough to insert a strike team."
An especially fit looking Lieutenant strode over, barely giving the two kids a glance before addressing Shacklebolt. "Sir, the initial wards are in place and Moran and Stalwert have set up positions covering the streets. Two and Eight are preparing to set up the final barrier." He gestured to the unidentifiable Unspeakables working at the far end. The concealment cloaks prevented them from getting even the slightest glimpse of their faces, only the embroidered numbers on their sleeves gave them identity.
They watched as the Unspeakables quickly separated and glided over to opposite sides of the street. Hermione observed, fascinated, as they each removed large glowing crystals from their robes and placed them carefully on the ground. With a brief glance at each other, they stood back and pointed their wands at the objects.
There was a short burst of light so bright that they were forced to cover their eyes. The sharp smell of ozone permeated the air as they looked back over, blinking spots from their eyes. A shimmering, blue shield arched across the street, creating an impervious barrier of energy. The power radiating off the shield let Hermione know that nothing short of the Unforgivables would be getting through.
Shacklebolt looked back at the teens. "We've been ordered to set up an insertion point and hold it. The Ministry is going to be attempting to send in more teams and hit those bastards hard, but it's going to take a while. We're going to take the town back one street at a time."
Hermione frowned as she watched the Aurors and Unspeakables scurry about their tasks, her brow furrowed in thought. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. This doesn't feel like an occupation. He's here for something and this is just a diversion, elaborate as it may be." Her eyes met the Senior Auror's, wide and afraid. "He's here for Harry," she breathed.
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Author's Notes: Now, first off, yes I did make Hogsmeade quite a bit larger than depicted in canon. Why? First, because no self-sustaining village is only going to have 100 people living there, especially in modern day times. Second, I have actually been to England before. I have seen the villages there and walked their streets. I patterned the town after the architecture I personally observed and took pictures of while I was visiting over seas. What really comes to mind if you go over there is exactly how much stonework is predominant. It was like everything was made of stone. Beautiful I tell ya! Nothing quite like it here in the states.
As always, question and comments are welcome and I'll try my best to not leave you hanging or wondering about anything too long. This chappie isn't quite beta'd so there's bound to be some mistakes. Point them out and I'll fix `em. Leave me some love and I'll give ya some back.
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