Harry, Ron, and Hermione staggered off their brooms and into the hallway outside the Room of Requirement. Malfoy and Goyle fell from the brooms and crashed to the floor, semiconscious.
But there was no time for them to regroup. As they stood there, a mob of panicked students came racing into the corridor from the direction of the front of the castle, with Order members and teachers mixed in. Harry could see Lupin, one of his arms badly burned, nonetheless carrying Tonks, who was covered in blood but stirring feebly. Flitwick was levitating several younger students, unconscious or dead, who must have snuck back to join the fight. To Harry's relief, he saw Ginny in this mob, unhurt, and shouting angrily at some others, apparently trying to get them to regroup. Loud banging and blasts of spells could be heard behind them.
"There are too many!" Lupin shouted, seeing Harry. "We can't hold them!"
"We've found what we needed to find!" Harry bellowed back over the din. "We've got the Basilisk fang, we can destroy it – actually, that seems to be done already," he told Lupin as the group came up to the trio and Harry spotted the heap of ash.
"It must have been Fiendfyre," Hermione said, sounding frightened. "It is—"
"Damn it, not now!" Terry Boot snapped.
"Everyone inside!" Lupin called, opening the re-formed door to the Room of Requirement. "It will take them quite a while to get in here." He quickly helped Tonks inside and set her down gently against the wall.
"We've lost?" Harry demanded.
"Essentially, yes," Lupin answered, as people began streaming past him into the Room. "I…I don't know…" Harry had never seen him this overwhelmed, this beaten. "We could not hold our positions. Everything went wrong…someone would back up a bit to get a better angle, then someone else would think he was running, start running himself, and set off a stampede. There was friendly fire, the acromantulas, the…"
There was a series of loud bangs, followed by a crash as part of the ceiling fell in, and Kingsley came running around the corner and down the corridor. "Is everyone inside?" he asked, loudly but with his usual calm.
"Just about," Lupin answered, truthfully. "Of course, there are probably people cut off elsewhere in the castle. Did you see the Weasley twins?"
Right on cue, Fred and George came hurrying up the corridor the other way, along with several other students, one of whom was wounded and being levitated.
"We held the passage gallantly –"
"By which we mean no one actually tried to get through it—"
"Then we got your Patronus—"
"So here we are for the glorious last stand."
"Get inside!" Lupin shouted, as a curse flew past them. Death Eaters were coming up the corridor; Lupin and Kingsley shot Stunners into them and a couple toppled. Ron shoved Hermione into the Room, and seemed to be preparing to fight when Harry grabbed him and dragged him inside as well, followed by Fred and George's group. Lupin and Kingsley were the last in, several curses narrowly missing them as they slammed the door and locked it.
Everyone paused for a moment, literally and mentally catching his breath. Harry scanned the room, and estimated that two-thirds of the people who had been in the Great Hall were now here. He forced aside thoughts about the fates of the other third, turning to examine the door. The door, meeting the needs of its occupants, had become solid stone, with multiple bolts and bars, no doubt magically reinforced. Harry had never found a way to break into the Room of Requirement, he thought…but who knew what Voldemort could do?
"Right," Lupin said after a moment. "We need to decide what to do. I recommend we evacuate via the Hog's Head, then disperse again. They have no way to track us once we have Disapparated. Sooner or later they will find a way through that door, or else –"
The portal to the Hog's Head passage crashed open. Wands were trained on it instantly, but it was Aberforth, who whirled and slammed the door behind him.
"They must have heard the noise," he said bitterly. "The Death Eaters broke into the pub. We're trapped."
Someone screamed, and a hubbub of panic started to break out.
"QUIET," Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed.
Arthur Weasley forced his way through the mob to where Kingsley was.
"Kingsley, Lupin," he muttered, "Do you recall the discussion we had about a plan of mine? That we agreed would be a last resort?"
Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, confused, but neither of them displayed any glimmer of understanding. Before they could ask questions, Arthur continued.
"I think we have reached our last resort," he said quietly.
Kingsley and Lupin exchanged glances.
"What you propose is very dangerous," Lupin said.
"You know what You-Know, oh, yes, Voldemort, thinks of Muggles. It is no more dangerous to them than otherwise. Without the Ministry of Magic, we cannot protect the Prime Minister. And with the enemy controlling the government, Muggles will have no way to fight back."
"That is not exactly the danger I was referring to," Lupin answered, but was cut off by Kingsley.
"Arthur is right," Kingsley said. "We are opening a can of worms, but at this point, I agree that we have no other viable options. The question is, how can we accomplish it? I will need to reach the PM's office, fight my way through any enemies there, and remove any Imperius Curse which he may be under."
"Hominem revilio," Hermione muttered, wand pointed at the secret passage. "There is no one within the passage yet," she announced. "Is it necessary to reach the Hog's Head to be able to Disapparate, or can it be done within the passage? Yes, I know one should not Apparate in distorted space, but in a case like this—"
"If Kingsley comes out with his head on upside down, he won't be any use," Ron put in. Arthur opened his mouth, probably to tell them to stay out of this, but Harry caught his eye and he closed it again.
"What we require is a way for Kingsley to reach the Hog's Head without being seen," Lupin summarized. "If he can take one step inside the Hog's Head, he can Disapparate."
Harry immediately thought of the Invisibility Cloak, but hesitated. It was a Hallow, it was his, it had been passed down from his father, and reluctance caught him for a moment—but only a moment, and he swiftly pulled it out, feeling ashamed.
"You can use this," he said, offering it to Kingsley.
"It is a good thought, but they will have spells in place—"
"This Invisibility Cloak is…special."
"Are you certain that this will work?" Kingsley asked, staring at Harry intensely.
"Do you have a better idea?" Ron broke in loudly.
"What do we do?!" someone in the crowd behind them shouted.
"We're gonna die!" screamed someone else.
"We will not die—not today, at any rate," Lupin snapped, turning to face the crowd. "We have a plan. Right now, we need to get organized." He began snapping out directions, ordering some to care for the wounded, others to try to reinforce the doors, and still others to send Patronus messages appraising people of the situation and asking for help. Hannah Abbot tried to ask him a question, but he put her off and hurried over to Tonks, taking her hand as he examined her wounds.
Kingsley took the Cloak. He put it on. His footfalls were inaudible in the general hubbub, but Harry watched as the passage door swung open, and then shut again. Hermione started towards a wounded Ravenclaw, then stopped and turned to Lupin.
"Would you please explain what you and Kingsley were talking about?"
"That would be nice, yes," Harry put in.
Lupin hesitated, and Arthur jumped in. "It occurred to me, after the Ministry fell, that the Muggles are in just as much danger as we are. Voldemort does not want them to exist, to take up space that could be used to give pureblood wizards massive estates."
"Also, if the Muggles are all murdered, no more Muggle-borns, solving another problem," Lupin added, walking back towards them.
"Right…so this is their fight, as well. With the weapons they have now, they'd have a decent chance against the Death Eaters. Kingsley is going to get the Prime Minister to call in the Muggle military."
"It violates the Statute of Secrecy, which is why we were so reluctant."
"As we discussed earlier, other countries' wizards are not coming to help us in any event," Arthur returned, "and if we lose, it will be a moot point—Voldemort will be able to do whatever he wants."
"Don't Muggles just have those metal wand things?" Ron asked. "You know, the, what is it, guns. A Shield Charm can stop those. What?"
Harry, Hermione, and Arthur looked at each other. "I'll explain," Hermione said. She started to tell him about tanks, and judging by the expression on Ron's face, this process was going to take a while.
Harry's mind was whirling. It had never occurred to him to try this. He had been so entranced by magic, all those years ago, that he hadn't questioned it. Thoughts triggered others, like masses of dominoes tumbling one after the other. Was it really reasonable for wizards to do nothing about Muggles' problems because wizards were "best left alone"? Of course Muggles would try to make petty and stupid demands on wizards' time, but…Healers could Apparate to respond to 999 calls, arriving in seconds instead of minutes. They could put up enchantments between those places in the Middle East, Israel and Gaza, stop rockets or missiles from going either way…and this was just the tip of the iceberg…
But Harry was suddenly jolted back to this reality by a series of loud bangs outside the door back into Hogwarts. The blasting got faster and louder, sounding like more than one wizard outside was doing it. The floor started to vibrate slightly, but there was no visible damage to the door.
"They're breaking in!" a Hufflepuff girl yelled behind them.
"It will take much more than that to break through," Lupin said confidently. As if on cue, the blasting stopped. Following a collective sigh of relief, Lupin spoke more quietly, and to Hermione, who was trying to explain to Ron how heat-seeking missiles worked. "Kindly help me strengthen the door."
Hermione got up and followed him over; they began muttering incantations. Ron looked at Harry, slightly stunned.
"Blimey, I had no idea," he said. "Did you know all this?"
"Oh, some of it. Back before I knew I was a wizard, you know, Muggle boys are, you know, they always think soldiers and tanks and…things…like that are cool. It's like with…with Chocolate Frogs."
"It's instinct," Hermione said, looking up from her work with Lupin. "The purpose of play is to practice skills needed for survival as an adult. So boys evolved to play with, and be interested in, things involving war."
"Evolved?" Ron asked.
"I'll explain later," Hermione answered, noticing Lupin looking at her. "Protego horribilis…"
Harry got up and began to wander through the room. He watched as Hannah Abbot and Lupin tried to care for Tonks. Ginny was busy consoling a crying second-year, who had somehow been left behind. A Ravenclaw sixth-year shot Patronuses from her wand as quickly as she could, sending wisps of vapor speeding out of the room to various destinations; Lupin had said to get anyone willing to help grouped outside Hogsmeade, to try to retake the pub. Malfoy and Goyle didn't seem to be there, and Harry wondered, with more of a sense of curiosity than real concern, what had happened to them.
And with that thought, it gradually crept over him who else he wasn't seeing. Dean Thomas, Angelina Johnson…and Cho. Harry walked through the group again, scanning frantically, then abruptly stopped. He really didn't want to be sure; he didn't really want to know how many people were now dead because of him.
Kingsley Shacklebolt had to dodge several Death Eaters in the tunnel, but they seemed to be too confident in their spells. Once or twice he felt the shock as a spell attempted to reveal him, but the Cloak held. He was beginning to suspect why Dumbledore had had such an odd interest in this cloak.
He hurried whenever he dared, but progress was slow. The tunnel was crude hard stone, and the spells causing the Room to change things to the way one wanted them seemed to be ineffective here. As an Auror, he was trained to move quietly, but every footfall seemed to ring. Fortunately, the Death Eaters were lumbering around constantly, making loud echoes that drowned his steps.
Kingsley reached the painting. Two Death Eaters stood on the other side of the opened portal, leaving no space for anyone concealed to pass through. He considered quickly disabling them, but more were seated in the pub, three on a long bench at a table and four more in chairs at another. Several of these were drunk, but it was still too many. What he needed was a way to disable them both at once without the source being obvious. But soon, he remembered how Potter had dealt with the first task in the Triwizard Tournament.
"Accio Bench."
The bench lurched violently into the air, flinging the Death Eaters on it off in all directions. It soared towards the two Death Eaters at the painting, who were facing the tunnel and had only had time to turn when the bench smashed into them, sending them crashing to the ground. Kingsley leapt over the bench as it and the Death Eaters struck the ground, body shaking from the strain of Summoning something that large, took three quick steps into the pub proper, and Disapparated before anyone could work out what had happened.
The Right Honourable Tony Blair had become used to the voice in his head. It wasn't a little voice, oh no; it shouted angrily at him when he did something wrong, so loud that he put his hands over his ears, which of course didn't help. For example, it had been wrong to try to investigate the Gaddley deaths further. It was obviously a gas leak, even though no gas leaks had been found, because what else could kill people like that? He had tried to tell people about the voice once or twice, but when he did, it screamed at him so loudly he couldn't hear himself or anyone else, and his head hurt very badly. He had learned not to ask questions about this voice, so all he really knew was that it had started after a dream about a strange man in a black cloak and mask in his bedroom. It had to have been a dream, because he woke up much later.
The voice was quiet tonight, as though paying attention to something else. He was glad; for a while, it had been yelling complicated instructions almost every night about the investigation of Princess Diana's death and what to tell the media about it and God only knew what else, and (naturally) refusing to explain to him why it mattered so much. Now he could focus on his papers. This business with the tobacco advertising was giving him a headache.
Crack!
A man in a long black cloak suddenly appeared in his office. The PM blinked.
"Finite Incantatem!" the man shouted.
The voice was suddenly gone, and he was afraid. Just what had it made him do?!
"Right, Prime Minister. You may recall meeting with Rufus Scrimgeour last year?"
"Yes…" Blair answered, still failing to process the situation. "I was rather confused, since I had never been told about magic before."
It took a lot to shock Kingsley, but that did. "What? Did they modify your memory?"
"No. Apparently Cornelius Fudge spoke to my predecessor, and was so in—that is, he neglected the results of the 1997 general election. No one came to tell me anything, but I managed to work it out from the context, you know. It wasn't too hard," he finished with the slight smile of a man clinging desperately to the edge of sanity with humor, "I'm not a Tory, after all."
"Right, well, that is not relevant now." Kingsley had regained his composure. "Prime Minister, you have been under the Imperius Curse for the past several months. This is a spell which compels its target to obey the commands of the caster." Blair nodded slowly. "You recall our discussion of," at the last second it occurred to him that Voldemort should not know he was here, "a certain wizard who was posing a serious threat to our Ministry." Blair nodded more confidently. "He has since seized control of the Ministry of Magic," Kingsley went on. "Various groups of people opposed to him have gathered at Hogwarts Castle, which is a school for Britain's young wizards and witches. There is a battle taking place there now, which we are currently losing. I am here," Kingsley hesitated now, "to ask you for whatever assistance the armed forces can provide."
"Well, we will do what must be done. New Labour is willing to use military force—unlike many of my Labour predecessors—but only when justified—unlike most of my other predecessors. However…there are some legal…concerns here. Are our adversaries Her Majesty's subjects?"
"Prime Minister, if a branch of your government were invaded by, say, the Irish Republican Army, would the UK military be used?"
"Yes, of course. And you said that, a, a school was being attacked? Are the students in it? Innocent children?"
"Some of them, Prime Minister."
"Well, innocent children are in danger…the decision seems clear, then." Blair started to rise, then hesitated. "But what do I tell our military? That is…this is not Iraq or North Korea. If I…of course, they aren't insubordinate, naturally…but, rightly so…I cannot…if I order our Royal Air Force to bomb someone, they will have to be told something about who is being bombed and why. Do you…that is, I cannot, in effect, point at someone and say 'kill him' with no explanation, legally perhaps and certainly as a practical matter it will cause…difficulties."
Kingsley, meaning sinking in, stood frozen. This was a problem. They could try to invent a story…but why would terrorists, the IRA, or even foreign invaders have weapons that could do what wizards could do? If they lied about what the enemy could do, it would put the Muggle soldiers at a distinct disadvantage. But if they told them the truth…every last one would require Obliviation, and Kingsley knew how "secrecy" tended to go, if even one person told someone else, and that person told three others…
"What do I do?"
"Well," Kingsley said, with no idea what to say, but knowing something was required, "first of all, strictly speaking," his old desire for proper procedure came out, "you should be giving orders to me, not the other way about. Nominally, the Minister of Magic is simply another minister, and since the abandonment of the 'first among equals' policy, that means you have authority over him, and therefore me. And before you ask, he is under the Imperius Curse at the moment and—"
"Very well, please advise me," Blair broke in.
This was it. The future of the world was in the balance. But Kingsley knew the decision he had to make, as horrifying as it was. He had sworn to defend the Statute of Secrecy; but whatever happened, Voldemort could not be allowed to win. Lying to the Muggle soldiers created too great a risk of that, and endangered them unnecessarily, to boot.
"Tell them the truth, Prime Minister," Kingsley said slowly and quietly.
"Very well," Blair answered. He hurried into the outer office, and began giving rapid instructions to his secretary to gather all of the other Ministers here as rapidly as possible starting with Defence, along with various Army and RAF brass. He then told her to prepare for a shock, before launching into an explanation of why and how there was a person in his office who had not come in through the door.
Kingsley, standing alone in the PM's office for a moment, felt the weight of history pivoting around him. He felt like a man who had just opened the sluice gates on a dam, sending water rushing through, going God knew where and sweeping everything away.