Dear Reader,
Well, as difficult as the last chapter was to write, this was the easiest! It was one that was added to when I should have been doing other bits. As always, your comments were very much appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to leave them.
They walked back from the beach hand in hand, Hermione unable to hold back a laugh when Fleur swung their joined hands between them. The taller woman leaned into her, bumping their shoulders together playfully. Hermione felt her face aching with the grin that stretched it and ducked her head, quite sure she was sporting a very, very stupid expression.
"You're in a good mood," Fleur observed, her tone light. Hermione turned to face her, gaping. Fleur was clearly trying to keep a smile off her face but was failing miserably.
"Well, I think you're to blame for that," she replied, archly, trying to preserve her dignity.
"To blame?" Fleur asked, turning to look at her, that same smile playing over her lips. "To thank, surely."
Hermione stopped dead in her tracks in astonishment, tugging Fleur to a stop. "You smug…"
Fleur turned to her, granting free reign to that grin (which was, Hermione felt, quite smug indeed). "Now, now," she chided, "don't be like that."
Hermione bit her lip, trying to keep herself from laughing. "You know, I expected this to be a much more solemn affair, somehow."
"Well, solemnity rarely exists so close to novelty."
"I suppose that's true," Hermione mused, starting to walk again. Fleur squeezed her fingers and she turned to glance at her, wishing she could devote her entire attention to her. But the ground was uneven and she had no desire to twist her ankle.
They were silent in the stillness before the dawn, content in each other's company and in the warm affection between them. All the things that Hermione had felt bursting from her, desperate to be articulated, had lost their urgency. Although she knew there was much left unsaid, she felt that the most important messages had been heard. They walked shoulder to shoulder, picking their way over the path in the faint light before dawn.
Soon they reached the cottage, quietly stepping through into the kitchen and taking their shoes off. Hermione took a breath, knowing that it was time for her to get ready. She rubbed her eyes tiredly.
Ideally, a good night's sleep should have been had before heading off to raid the most carefully guarded building in Britain, she thought, ruefully.
Fleur yawned, covering her mouth. "Sorry," she said afterwards, her lips curling upwards with humour, as if she wanted to say something else.
Hermione held up a hand. "If you say something silly like someone kept me up all night I may have to strike you."
Fleur's eyebrows shot up and that same grin returned. "Perish the thought," she said in a tone of voice that fully implied she'd been considering doing just that. Hermione shook her head, fighting against another grin. It was ridiculous; she was about to head into dreadful danger and she felt giddy. But she couldn't find the despair and worry she'd become so familiar with. They'd been banished in the night, beneath the stars and beside the ocean. She knew that peril awaited her but it didn't hold the same freezing terror anymore. She had a job to do and she felt, perhaps for the first time, as if she was equal to the task.
Fleur smiled at her, eyes sparkling in the dim light and lifted a hand, touching her hair, brushing it back behind her ear with gentle affection. "The boys will be awake soon. You three have requested privacy and as much as I wish to stay with you…"
"It wouldn't be helpful, in the long run," Hermione finished. "It's all right. I need to have a shower anyway."
Fleur's eyebrow twitched and mirth danced in her eyes for a fraction of a second before she schooled her features. Hermione felt she should have been quite scandalised but found herself smothering another smile. "Sand. Sand bloody everywhere."
"Go," Fleur said, ducking her head. "Before I burst out laughing and wake the entire house."
Hermione nodded, stepping forward. A little jolt of apprehension moved through her, for she felt that words could not properly convey what she wished to communicate. "I just wanted to thank you, Fleur. For everything. Thank you for looking after us, for taking us in. For my wand," she looked away, overwhelmed by the emotion in Fleur's eyes and brimming in her own chest, "for everything."
Fleur's arms wrapped around her and she felt a gentle kiss pressed against her head. "No thanks are needed, Hermione. I feel that I should thank you."
"For what?" she asked, bringing her own hands up to wrap around Fleur's waist, quite surprised by the sentiment.
"For the privilege of knowing you; of spending time with you. For your friendship."
Hermione didn't know what to say to that and just squeezed Fleur more firmly, surrounded by her warmth and softness. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to Fleur's shoulder, sighing. A noise came from the living room, Harry's alarm, and they reluctantly parted, though they clasped each other's hands.
They faced each other then and sorrow was clearly written on Fleur's face. But it wasn't the hopeless, empty sorrow that they'd come to know. As dark as their days were, they'd found a light that could not be extinguished. It shone in her chest now, cheering her and warming her heart. Hermione nodded and dropped Fleur's hands gently.
"Right. I'm off then."
"Farewell," Fleur said, quietly, her eyes shining with tears. "Shall I put the kettle on for you?"
"That would be fantastic."
After her shower, Hermione made sure the boys were actually awake before climbing the stairs to her room. Luna was snoring softly and did not waken as she entered nor when she changed into her costume for the day. She gathered her beaded bag and took a deep breath, leaving Fleur's soft blue jumper on the bed quite regretfully. She'd become quite fond of it during her stay and almost wished she could take it with her. She reached into the bag, taking out a letter and a slim book. She opened the volume to a certain page and slid the short message in, noticing that her hand was trembling slightly. She gently placed the book in the folds of the jumper and left the room.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned her attention to the closed parlour door. Wistful regret filled her and she longed to join Fleur there. But it was time to go, she knew, and do what had to be done. There was nothing left for her to say or do here.
"Good bye," she whispered to the closed door, before turning to go.
"Fleur! Where are you?" Fleur jolted awake, almost falling out of her chair. She blinked, completely disorientated, and shook her head. She'd only intended on sitting down for a moment after putting the kettle on but clearly her exhausted body had other plans. Bill opened the parlour door and sighed in relief.
"Fleur! You're not going to bloody believe this…"
"Bill, what time is it?"
"It's almost half ten," he scolded, pulling his wife up and tugging her into the kitchen. Dean and Luna were there with enraptured looks on their faces, close to a wizarding wireless. It was evidently tuned to Potterwatch and a number of very excited witches and wizards were shouting, with Lee Evans, or River, trying to maintain order. One man was louder than the rest, babbling away excitedly.
"-never seen an'thin' like it, guv! Ruddy great dragon with these three BLEEPing lunatics 'angin' orf its neck! BLEEPing huge BLEEPing dragon, guv!"
"Thank you but bloody hell, tone it down, mate!" Lee hissed, "children and impressionable grannies are listening to this."
"Oh, sorry guv. But you won't believe the best bit! One of them young nutters? 'Arry Potter hisself!"
There was silence for a long moment, both around the table and over the air.
"Just, so, uh," Lee said, "let me get this straight. You say that about fifteen minutes ago, a dragon emerged from the ruins of Gringott's Bank, carrying Harry Potter and two others? Pull the other one, mate, it's got bells on."
"Stop the press, River! Or the wires, whatever," came the cheerful voice of Fred Weasley. "I've just risked life and limb down in Diagon Alley, expertly disguised, mind, and the punters were lining up to tell me that it was him! No mistaking him. Scrawny, stupid hair cut, glasses and, ladies and gentlemen, a LIGHTNING BOLT on his BLEEPing forehead!"
"Not you too, mate…" Lee protested mildly.
"Also seen were two of Potter's stoutest allies," here Fred seemed to get a bit choked up, "and can I just say how incredibly proud I am, and a lot of others like me, for what they've done."
Lee cleared his voice. "Er, what have they done?"
"No idea!" Fred continued, undaunted, "but likely very important. I know Harry Potter personally and he's not the sort to go destroying financial institutions without a very, very good reason."
Lee laughed at that. "Right. I'm sorry to wrap up this emergency round of Potterwatch but stay tuned! The next password will be 'bleeping dragon'! Good morning ladies and gentlemen, Harry Potter is currently riding a dragon!" he said, delight in his voice.
With that, the noise from the broadcast faded before it hissed white static. Fleur slumped to a chair, shaking. She could feel her eyes, round in her skull. She blinked owlishly.
"Dragons? They're riding a dragon?"
"And they destroyed most of Gringott's," Luna added. "They've been busy, I haven't even had breakfast yet. "
There was another silence. "Those utter loons," Dean said, shaking his head. "What the hell do they think they're up to?"
Bill flicked the wireless off, shaking his head. "Whatever it is, I'll bet that things aren't going to be quite for the next few days. Everyone get ready, we'll head to Muriel's at noon and see if there's any news."
Molly Weasley was pacing Aunt Muriel's kitchen, tearing at a tissue in her hands and stomping up and down. Ginny was half watching her with a weary expression and half reading the Quibbler. When Bill, Fleur, Dean and Luna entered, both their jaws fell open.
"Bill! What on earth? You found Dean and Luna, oh, darlings!" Molly said, sweeping forward and gathering the two teenagers into a fond embrace. Ginny was close behind, whispering urgently to Luna. "Are you all right? Mr Ollivander said you were safe but I didn't realise you'd be coming here. Is everything all right?"
"Uh,' Dean stammered, looking a bit confused, "well, we're fine."
Bill cleared his throat. "Mum, they were all with us. We asked Ollivander to say nothing, just in case."
Molly didn't seem pleased with that, Fleur noted, but shrugged it off as best she could. "Oh, well, I suppose…"
"," Bill mumbled in a rush, squeezing his eyes shut. His mother was very, very quiet for a long moment, her eyes wide at the news.
"What?" she demanded, in a low, threatening tone. "Are you telling me that my Ron, my son, whom I have been worrying about since August was only over in Shell Cottage the entire time? With Harry and Hermione?" By the end of the sentence, she was screeching. Fleur slunk back, sharing a guilty look with Ginny. Bill, being close to his little sister, had told her that the gang were with them at Fleur's urging.
Molly, intimately familiar with a guilty look, whipped her head from side to side. "You knew! Ginevra Weasley, you knew and you didn't tell me!"
"Not since August, mum, only a few weeks. Since all that happened in the Lovegood's," Ginny muttered.
"We couldn't risk Harry's whereabouts becoming known to the enemy," Fleur said, weaving a small amount of force into her words. "Each person who knew was one more person who could be captured and tortured for it," the room went quiet and she felt Molly cast her a truly evil glare.
"Never mind all that, mum," Ginny said, "you can give out to us later. Did you hear about the dragon?"
"It's true then?" Bill asked, shaking his head in wonder. "Those utter idiots. What the hell are they up to?"
"What ever it was, it was enough to get a dozen people killed by you-know-who," Arthur said, emerging from the sitting room. "Afternoon son, Fleur. Good heavens, is that Luna Lovegood? And Dean? Wonderful to see you both in one piece!"
Bill shook his head, blinking at the news. "Wait, dozens of people were killed?"
"Yes, it seems that you-know-who wasn't happy at what happened in Gringott's at all. Goblins, guards and a load of Death Eaters were pulled out in the last hour or so. Mostly in pieces."
Fleur's mind was racing. She turned to Bill and Luna, frowning for a long time. "What were they looking for?" she mused. "The real sword?"
"No," Luna said, "they had that. Griphook lied in Malfoy Manor."
"Sword? What?" Molly shrieked.
"Look, mum," Bill said, standing at his full height. "Harry, Ron and Hermione are on a mission from Dumbledore. We've all tried to get them to tell us what was that is but they were sworn to secrecy. We helped, we all have to help, but only in certain ways. Whatever they're doing, it's essential."
Molly glared and looked like she was about to launch into a very long and loud protest when Arthur put a hand on her arm. "Shall I put the kettle on? It's almost lunch time."
So the household gathered. Ollivander greeted Fleur and Luna warmly, asking after Luna's new wand. Muriel was not at all impressed to find four more bodies in her house and made some very snide remarks about Fleur's hair now being the same length as Bill's. Fred and George arrived back half way through and were delighted to share more tales of Harry, Hermione and Ron's adventures by dragon back. No one had a clue where they'd gone because someone (and Fleur was sure it had been Hermione) had cast concealing charms around the beast.
"But north, I bet," Fred said, chewing a bacon sandwich, "it was an Arctic Singer, would have hated the heat underground or in London.
"Do you think they'll return to Shell Cottage?" Molly asked, accusingly.
"No," Fleur said, sadly. "Not unless something terrible happens. If they do arrive back, I will know immediately so if I leave in a hurry, I beg your pardon in advance." In truth, she wasn't enthusiastic about the idea of sitting around with constant reminders of Hermione. Her scent was still everywhere, light on the tongue and like an aphrodisiac to her. Given that she had no idea when she'd see the other witch again, she wasn't keen to be surrounded by reminders of her, especially if they were going to put themselves in such danger.
Her heart ached at the thought of harm befalling Hermione. She'd done what she could to keep her safe, but what if it wasn't enough? It wasn't like Harry, where a life had been sacrificed. But something important, all the same.
Bill saw her worry and took her hand, frowning sadly. She hadn't told him what had happened but he wasn't stupid; she hadn't been sleeping in the parlour for the good of her health or back. She sighed and smiled weakly at him, wondering how much damage she'd done to their relationship.
The day dragged on. There was no further word of Harry but there was a new buzz; those who stood opposed to the Dark Lord felt reenergised by Harry's bold move and were reaching out to one another. A measure of courage returned to them and they whispered now, telling each other the good news.
Fleur sat with Ginny, Luna and the twins for a while in the living room, everyone catching up on the latest news. Fleur also spoke to Ginny alone about Harry, telling her all she could remember. She told her about their chat the night before, causing her to blush a furious red.
"He loves you, you know. Cares deeply for you."
"I know he does," she said, tears in her soft brown eyes, "the daft git!" she laughed. "Well, he'll do what he has to, but so will I."
Night began to fall and Fleur found herself tasked with helping prepare dinner. She knew Molly didn't really like her, and was never shy about letting the fact be known, but she seemed quite subdued for once as if building her ire. Fleur felt sure that an explosion was imminent and that the only thing preventing her from speaking was the fact that she was so angry, she couldn't quite decide where to start. She apparently resented that Fleur had concealed the Trio from her and was not going to forgive her for it anytime soon.
Fleur decided there and then that she was taking the secret of Ron's Christmas visit to her grave.
They were busy chopping vegetables when George burst in through the door, excitement lighting his features.
"Harry's in Hogwarts!" he shouted. "We're to get to Ab and into the school!" utter delight spread across his face, eyes bright with hope.
Fleur was so shocked that several knives she was controlling went flying into the ceiling. "What!"
"How in the name of goodness do you know that?" Molly demanded, brandishing a knife of her own. George didn't stop smiling though, going as far as to grab Fleur's hands and swing her around in a circle.
"The coins! Our galleons from Dumbledore's Army!" he said. "Come on then, no time for dinner! Hogwarts is in need!"
Fleur felt a bolt of fear trip down her spine. What in the name of Merlin had possessed Harry to return there? She stripped off her apron and nodded sharply.
"Mrs Weasley, I am sending a message to my family. They must know."
"All right, I'll go see where the others are," she said, bustling off. Fleur ran out the back door and apparated to Shell Cottage, whistling shrilly for ten or twelve seconds. A gull screamed and arced to her, swooping around her before settling on her shoulder. She brought him inside and set him on the kitchen table, cleanliness be damned. She grabbed a sheet of note paper and a pen. She wrote to her mother in the language of the veela, a secret tongue not even her father would be able to decipher.
Mother and Father,
Hogwarts. The battle has begun. Warn all!
Fleur
"Good evening, my friend," she said to the bird, tying the note to his stout leg. She sang to him, leaving a clear picture in his mind where he needed to be. He cried at her but once outside, beat his mighty wings and was away. Fleur paused for a moment. Here, further west and beside the sea, the last hints of the evening sun remained. She grabbed her leather jacket and, casting one last look around her house, was gone.
She apparated straight to Aberforth Dumbledore's pub, almost falling over Ginny and Luna.
"Ginny! Your mother is not going to be happy to find you here!" she said, shaking her head. "Which twin brought you here?"
"Now, that would be telling!" she said. "But you're right, mum'll make me leave. Luna and Dean, let's go."
"Ginny, wait," Fleur said sternly. Luna and Dean headed on after a nod from their leader and Ginny folded her arms. She resembled her mother then, stubborn and utterly obstinate but Bill as well. She had his self-possession and courage, despite her young age.
"You're not stopping me. Don't even try it or you'll have a nose full of bats before you can blink."
Fleur sighed. "I told Harry I'd keep an eye on you. That did not cover you fighting in whatever is to come."
Ginny scoffed. "Keep an eye on me if you want to see some decent hexes. Fleur, I'm going down there and I'm helping. And so are you."
Fleur blinked, slightly taken aback. Ginny continued. "We need everyone we can get to help. I know Harry. He wouldn't endanger everyone in Hogwarts unless it was important and he would have waited for holidays unless it was urgent. It's clear we don't have time to wait. Go and gather the rest of the Order, get them here, Fleur. We need some muscle right now."
Fleur sighed, knowing that the second she turned her back, Ginny would head straight down the tunnel after her friends. She opened her mouth to protest but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a large number of people. Half the Order stood around her with more appearing at every moment. George popped in with two young women, one of whom cracked her knuckles.
"Right," Lupin shouted, pushing his way through, "everyone here?"
"Who's coming," Arthur said, grimly.
"So be it, to the Great Hall and quick about it!" Lupin called, leading the charge. "Kingsley, at the front with me. Watch your backs, everyone!" A lot of jostling and shoving ensued and by the time Fleur glanced back to Ginny, she was gone. Muttering under her breath, she grabbed Bill's hand and ran after the others, their booted feet pounding the stone passage.
"Bill, I need to tell you something," she hissed as they ran.
"Can it wait?"
"No. Hermione and I-"
"I know, I know," he sighed, "of course you did."
They ran along in silence for a while before Fleur was able to summon the courage to speak. "And? Have you anything to say?"
"Nothing I haven't already," he said quietly. "But bloody hell, at least admit it!" he growled, angrily, "You love her. Have the guts to admit it."
Fleur felt as if she'd been slapped, then felt like slapping herself. Of course you love her, you silly girl. You have since she arrived on your doorstep.
"Merde."
"Indeed," Bill huffed.
They were quiet for the rest of the sprint to the castle and poured out into a large and hectic room. Ginny was standing there, looking absolutely innocent beside Harry, and Fleur glared at her. Bill let go of her hand but pulled her into a rough hug.
"You're daft, and you have some of the strangest ways of doing things but I love you anyway. Don't die, all right?"
"I love you too," she told him, "don't die either." He kissed her head and she closed her eyes, hoping that this wouldn't be their final few moments together. She kept well away from the argument with Ginny, hoping that Molly would just order her to safety, and turned her attention to Harry. Why was he alone? Where were Hermione and Ron? She desperately wanted to find Hermione but knew that there were other, pressing issues to be dealt with and that the other witch was more than capable of looking after herself. Besides, they'd completed the spell. Even if they weren't close together, Hermione was still very much under her protection.
But still, I should be by her side.
She was utterly surprised, as was Harry it appeared, to see Percy Weasley stumble into the group. She felt her mouth gape open and searched for something, anything, to talk about. She and Lupin babbled about Teddy for a moment, trying to ignore the horribly embarrassing scene behind them
She saw the Weasleys gathering to leave and Bill nodded to her. She cast a look back, between Ginny and Harry, not sure what to do. The Boy Who Lived caught her eye and shook his head sadly, motioning for her to go. She frowned and stepped towards them anyway.
"No, go," he said, heartache in his eyes, "hold the castle defences, we need to evacuate everyone. Gin's going to stand watch here, get them out. We need to give them time." Even now, he never lost sight of the greater good. Ginny nodded too, apparently happy to stay put for the time being, though Fleur suspected that wouldn't last long.
She took a breath and nodded, running after her husband, the twins and Percy. The young man, who had a weak chin and a scrawny neck, awkwardly shook her hand.
"So, you're my sister in law now?" he asked.
Fleur smiled ruefully. I am, but for how long?
They were given their positions and told to defend them for as long as they safely could. Herself and Bill were sent to the astronomy tower, high up in the school. It wasn't long before Death Eaters poured into the cold, dusty maze of walkways and stairs. They fought like demons, shrieking behind their masks but Fleur and Bill stood together and all who approached them fell, some plummeting down through the inky depths of the tower. Fleur had no idea if they were dead or not and found that she didn't care. These people had come to murder children in their school; she would show no mercy.
These were not the elite of his troops, she quickly realised. These were clumsy and unskilled, malevolent but unpractised. They fell before her and she crowed in victory, feeling her blood stir. Bill threw back his head and howled, rattling the rafters and sending birds screaming to wing. Fleur called to them, bidding them to attack and gore; to seek eyes and throats.
Blood flew everywhere and the Death Eaters retreated. Fleur drew a breath, eyes darting around the tower. Bill was still, snarling softly. He was ferocious in battle, the wolf closer to the surface than it had ever been.
"Are they gone?" she asked.
"No, they're waiting for something," he hissed. "We need to-"
Fleur felt her chest torn asunder. A pain like no other she'd ever felt flowed over her. Pure, distilled and furious hatred lashed out at her, filling her mind and heart. She screamed, hands flying to her head as she collapsed to her knees. She felt Bill grab her and shake her, but she couldn't breath. This malice had more than one source, too. She recognised the slimy, oily taint of Bellatrix Lestrange and writhed in agony. There was another there too, one stronger and even more filled with malice.
She tried, and failed, to catch her breath and felt Bill lift her. They were moving then but her mind was cut loose from her body. It seemed as if her soul being torn apart from her flesh, slowly dragged away from her. Her heart thumped erratically in her chest and she felt as though she was falling into a dark, lightless cavern. The world around her was cold and still, stinging her as she tumbled through the silent void.
I see you, a voice hissed, reptilian and devoid of any positive human emotion. I know you. Your selfish heart, robbing her of her innocence to satisfy your own hunger.
She thinks she's saved her precious little tart, came the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange, but I'll have her before the end. You failed! she cackled hysterically. She's mine.
And more, you lied to her. You tricked her.
Mine! All mine.
She felt her heart racing erratically, devoid of any normal rhythm or beat and she felt pressure building behind her eyes. Her lungs burned, scorching within her chest. She ground her teeth, the pain searing underneath her skin and stabbing through into her flesh. It was beyond anything she imagined and she found her mind emptying, but for the vicious taunts echoing there.
No, she thought, you will never have her.
A memory came to mind, slowly and with great effort. Hermione; bare skin shining in the light of stars and dim flames. She was leaning over her, a look of wonder and astonishment on her face as she traced the line of her breast bone, smiling softly as she drew patterns on Fleur's skin. She raised her eyes and they seemed golden in the light, full of joy and excitement at what they'd shared.
As the voices closed around her, as shadow dimmed the image before her, she clung to that golden light. She wrapped herself around it and embraced it with all her might, unwilling to let it be swallowed in that awful void. But the abyss around them was greedy, unrelenting in its desire to consume and she felt herself torn, flayed by the evil around her.
If this is it, if I am to die, so be it, she thought grimly. But she wouldn't die cowering in pain and fear. She clenched her jaw and forced herself to take a breath.
"Hermione!" she called, to that faint golden glimmer. She saw her face, her dark brow and fine nose; her bushy hair and intelligent eyes. Hermione smiled at her and the curse was broken. Fleur fell back into herself, sensation, breath and pulse returning all at once. After a long moment, she opened her eyes and found herself in Bill's arms, below the ruin of the tower. She blinked at him and he coughed, dust covering both of them.
"Bastards blew the tower out from around us. But what happened to you?"
"Hermione est en danger. Quelque, something terrible she has found, evil," she panted, her English failing her. "Bill," she said, tears forming, "I must go to her."
"Right," he said, quietly. "Right, come on then."
He stood and pulled her after him. They found a very dusty and angry Professor Sprout under a felled beam and helped her out. The three fought their way through the ruined school, cutting down every enemy they could find. They saw, to their horror, the wall of a corridor explode inwards ahead of them, admitting a dozen Death Eaters. Bill grabbed Fleur and shoved her towards a tapestry.
"Go! That'll take you to the Great Hall! Hurry up!" he roared.
She felt her heart break. How could she leave him now? Sprout send an impressive hex outwards, bowling over several Death Eaters and Bill stunned another.
"Find her!" he shouted, tears in his bright eyes. "Help her!"
She nodded one and threw herself down the narrow stair way. She saw three Death Eaters towering over a student and sent them flying over the balustrade, cracking into the stone floor far below. The young witch sat up, dusting herself off.
"Where to?" she asked and Fleur recognised her as Cho Chang.
"Cho!" she said, delighted, "help Bill and Professor Sprout, up those stairs."
Cho seemed amazed to see her as well and shook her head. "Will do, Fleur." Cho spied several other Ravenclaw students watching from behind a statue and brought them with her. Guilt assuaged somewhat, Fleur continued.
A stray curse hit the wall beside her head, showering Fleur in chips of stone and dust. Crouching over a young blonde with thick hair, she laid her hand on her chest, feeling for a heart beat. No life stirred there and Fleur left her body. The wounds had been caused by none other than Fenrir Greyback and she felt it was long past time that his life ended.
The huge doors of Hogwarts screamed on their hinges as they blew inwards, almost ripped from their frames. Instantly, the space filled with great, stinking and hissing spiders. Some were the size of cattle and Fleur backed away. A student stood frozen in fear as one barrelled towards him.
"Wingardium leviosa!" she called, flicking him up onto the balcony to land on his arse beside a bespectacled woman busy chucking crystal balls at any Death Eaters she saw. Fleur found herself almost bowled over as Hagrid exploded past, running at the spiders with his umbrella raised. They had him in seconds and a bristling, fuming ball of spite charging him down.
To her utter amazement, Harry Potter appeared out of thin air to race after him. His friend was gone before he'd taken ten steps and Fleur resisted the urge to call his name.
Hermione Granger, however, did not. Fleur couldn't see her, but she ran in the direction of the terrified shout anyway. It brought her closer to Harry too. She stunned a Death Eater aiming at the Boy Who Lived and was halfway across the hall when she found herself leaping upwards, landing in a roll and turning to face backwards. She realised that she'd jumped to avoid a huge, hairy limb swinging from an enormous spider. It flung itself at her and she dodged, slicing at it with curses, hexes and jinxes. Eventually, one took out several of its eyes and it reared back in pain. The sound was horrible but did not stop her from sending a broken piece of wood flying into its heart. Or rather, where she presumed its heart would be.
She couldn't see Harry or Hermione anywhere. The way behind was choked with Death Eaters and Hogwartians doing battle so she sped forwards, out through the great door. Broken glass crunched beneath her feet as she emerged into the chaos of the darkened courtyard. Pausing briefly she saw, to her relief, red hair moving in the general direction of the forest close behind two other figures. She dodged two giants fighting one another and was almost past them when a piece of flying masonry caught her in the shoulder, spinning her around and sending her into a tumble. She picked herself up and, shaking her head to clear it, continued after the trio.
Her vision was somewhat blurry as she stumbled forwards and she paused for a minute to stand still and let it clear. She opened her eyes and saw a great host, almost a sea, of black, ragged wraiths sliding out of the Forbidden Forest and towards the three tiny figures. She almost screamed at the sight, so hot was her anger. Instead, she clutched her wand and started forwards.
"You know," a tired voice sounded from her elbow, "four against all of them is almost as suicidal as three."
Fleur's heart lightened at the voice and turned to greet Luna. Two boys stood with her, one of whom was quite familiar. All were filthy, bloody and close to collapse. But they wore grim, hungry looks and nodded as she started down the hill. They ran, flying over the uneven ground, sprinting towards their friends. Twin flickers of feeble light shone and went out. Harry staggered, holding his head and Ron was frozen. Hermione fell to her knees and though they were far apart, though there were a hundred Dementors reaching out their bony hands, Fleur heard her sob.
It struck something deep within her and for a fraction of a second, she remembered hearing Hermione sob and gasp under very different circumstances. Warmth and affection filled her; she could taste Hermione on her lips and feel her hot breath on her neck. Dark eyes reflected the sky above them, full of tears and stars.
And love, Fleur realised, allowing herself to face it for the first time. Her eyes had been full of love, a love that had reached out and met its counter part in herself. She called that love to her and armoured it with memories of their time together. A hundred leapt at the chance but the strongest was that of Hermione laughing softly in her ear in joy and wonder after they'd made love.
"Expecto patronum!" she roared, her stride never breaking. Silver light erupted around her and coalesced, running beside her. Finding the ground too slow, it leapt into the air and swam through the currents there. Behind him appeared a long legged hare, bounding over the grass, a quick fox and a roaring boar. The otter led the charge and dived over Hermione's head, hit the ground running and stood in front of Harry. He reared up on his hind legs, balanced on his tail and raised his fore paws defiantly. Fleur laughed at the sight, the enemies around meaningless. How could these shadows, these shades, hope to compete with what was in her heart? What chance had those hollow, empty abominations?
The hare, the boar and the fox raced in front of the otter, the boar standing at the front of the little phalanx. As they neared, she saw Ron trembling on the ground and Hermione kneeling, her face hidden beneath waves of unruly hair. The familiar boy rushed to Ron while Luna stepped to Harry. She made her way to Hermione, never lowering her wand but never taking her eyes off the other witch.
"Hermione," she said, warmly, lowering her right hand to stroke her hair gently. "Come along now, it's not time to give up yet, my dear one."
Their breath steamed in the unnaturally cold air, mingling with the silver trails left by the Patronuses. The Dementors milled, seeming to sneer at the little animals. But they didn't waver or fade, though the otter did run to them, setting his forepaws on Hermione's legs and peering up at her sternly.
"No, no it's not," Hermione agreed. She raised her wand at almost the same moment Harry did and his stag led the charge. The pair of otters gambolled after it, rolling through the air together. The Dementors fled, sinking back into the woods. Hermione lifted her face and stared at Fleur with shock, her eyes wide in the dim light.
Smiling, Fleur lifted her hands to her hair and pulled off her tie, letting her short hair go free. Quickly, she tugged Hermione's unruly hair backwards and into a messy pony tail. She stood and pulled the smaller woman after her.
"Can't thank you enough," Ron said, off to the side, but Fleur froze. Something was coming.
"Run!" she shouted and heard Harry echo it. She pulled Hermione after her, sprinting again as a giant appeared from the trees. The other three ran in the other direction and she was glad to see that no one was injured. The four of them ran, barely avoiding the giant's club. She narrowed her eyes and sent a hex at it, hitting the brute right in the face. He bellowed in pain and collapsed in a heap.
Harry was shouting at Ron and though she couldn't make it out, she followed his lead. They ran and ran, away from the castle and she wondered what strange quest they had to fulfil now. They slowed as they reached a great willow and Fleur was startled when it began whipping its branches at them. It was angry, clearly, snarling and roaring at them to stay away. She pulled Hermione back, almost cradling her as the smaller witch took deep, hungry breaths. She sounded as though she were in pain.
Ron was panting. "How, how're we going to get in? I can, see the place," he gasped, "if we just had Crookshanks again.
"Crookshanks?" Hermione demanded, when she finally found her breath, "are you a wizard or what?" she bit out, irritation plain despite her winded state.
Ron, a bit embarrassed, levitated a twig beneath the branches and the tree quietened. They stood still for a moment before Harry took a halting step forward, turning to face the rest of them. Ron huffed and shook his head.
"Harry, we're coming, just get in there," he said gruffly, shoving his friend forwards.
"No!" he said, staring at Fleur. He shook his head at her, and her alone. She scowled.
"I can help! Whatever is happening down there, I am going with you."
"No!" Harry roared again, tears welling. "No! I can't stop those two, but you can't come! I mean, it's bad enough with Fred…" Tears spilled over his cheeks and Fleur's heart thumped in her chest. No, she thought, not Fred! She saw the fear, anger and defeat in his eyes but was not moved to step aside. She opened her mouth to insist when a pale, but grimy, hand touched her shoulder.
"Fleur," Hermione begged, eyes wide and sad, "please. We don't have time to argue. Or to explain what's happening. Please, you don't know what we have to do and there's no time to tell you. Please, let us go."
Let me go was the real request and Fleur felt her heart clench when she heard it. But she trusted Hermione and knew that it was true. The trio before her often knew what one was doing before they actually did it; they were an excellant team. Too much rested on their mission to jeopardise it with misplaced heroics, as well. But above all that, she couldn't refuse Hermione, not when she asked so gently.
"I will stand guard here, then."
"No," Harry said, sounding weary, "then they'll know that someone is there. Please, go help the others, find… Help," his eyes shone and she knew who he was so concerned about.
"Is she still here?" she asked softly.
"Near where you came in, I hope."
"I will guard her."
"Thank you," he said, truly meaning it. He nodded his farewell and turned, sliding into the tunnel. Ron gestured to Hermione to follow and, with one last longing glance at Fleur, she did. Ron brought up the rear, nodding at her as he went.
The night was free of the sounds of battle for a moment as Fleur's pulse pounded in her ears. She felt dread fill her and almost followed Ron. She steeled herself. They would return alive, bearing whatever object or weapon or ally they needed. Harry Potter would save them all and she would protect the girl he loved so that when the dust settled, they would have peace.
Fleur entered a quiet, devastated Hogwarts. She'd been waylaid by a pack of spiders on her return and had spent some time sending them away. They'd been small, for their kind, none larger than a labrador but they'd been plentiful. One had opened a wound on the back of her thigh but she found herself too weary to heal it. As she'd crossed the last stretch of ground, the voice of Voldemort had rattled in her mind, whispering his vile promises.
Her anger boiled. He had spoken of valour yet had not taken to the field of battle. He spoke of mercy as he slaughtered children. He spoke of dignity as he sent foul creatures to ravage the dead. In his magnanimity, he'd left an hour in which he imagined the defenders of Hogwarts would surrender their courage and present Harry to the Dark Lord. She knew, with certainty, that there was less chance of that happening than there was of the giant squid tap dancing in the Great Hall. She stepped over Death Eaters, pausing to ensure that they were dead. She wasn't sure why she checked; to offer mercy or to finish them off? She didn't have to find out, thankfully. She came across two students, one with his leg pinned and crushed beneath a fallen gargoyle. The stone creature was apologising profusely but was unable to move itself.
She stopped to help him into the castle, his friend cradling a broken wand in a broken arm. The only other people they saw were hurrying towards the Great Hall and they followed. The boy in her arms was weeping quietly, blood dripping from his trousers to mingle with what already stained the stone floors. Gore and blood soaked the place, some puddles large enough to suggest fatality. Emeralds lay scattered over the floor, many of them stained red and shining wetly. How apt.
She brought the pair of boys into the hall and found them somewhere to sit. The school nurse glanced at them, satisfied that they were not near death's door, and continued administering to those who were. Fleur laid a hand on the boy's leg, closing her eyes. The bones of his lower leg were broken in many places and his knee had been torn asunder. However, the great vessels of his leg and the shaft of his femur were intact. He would not succumb to these injuries at any point in the near future. She told him this and, after checking his friend, told them to wait for the nurse. Her own skill in healing was above average but her mind was buzzing and her heart too sick to be useful at that moment. She left them and walked, as in a daze, down the hall.
Remus and Tonks lay side by side, faces still and bloodless. She felt tears build at the sight but continued towards the knot of red haired Weasleys. Molly was weeping over her son's body, Arthur trying to console her. George knelt at his brother's head, looking terribly forlorn. Bill stood with his arm over Ginny and Percy's shoulders, cradling his younger siblings under his strong arms. His eyes met hers and he wept unashamedly, chin trembling. She rushed forward and caught him in her arms, letting him cry onto her shoulder. She cried too, unable to escape the sorrow and grief of the moment.
He didn't weep for long before he pulled himself upright and wiped his eyes. Fleur turned to Ginny, who looked so young and confused. She was safe though, and she would remain so. She touched her shoulder gently and was surprised when the youngest Weasley threw herself into her arms, gripping her tightly before releasing her. There was no time left, she knew, for old animosities or pettiness. Percy shook her hand too, eyes wet and miserable.
She moved back to Bill and watched the Hall, waiting for those she knew must return. The trio entered eventually, Hermione embracing Ginny and Ron standing with Percy. Harry stood, looking lost and terribly sad. A choked sob sounded from beside her, drawing her attention and causing her to turn to Hermione and Ginny. They stood close to her and she saw that Hermione was weeping. She reached down and took her hand, squeezing it gently and the three of them stood embracing one another in the uneasy calm.
When she looked back, to see where Harry was, there was no sign of him at all.
The grief poured out of them all, but Fleur knew that there was much to do and little time remaining before battle would begin anew. She gave Hermione's hand one last squeeze and moved back to the pair of students. She knelt beside them and smiled wanly. "We must work now, to get you out of here to safety."
"No," the boy with the broken leg protested, "I want to stay and fight!"
Fleur regarded him carefully before nodding. There was precious little she could do at this point. She had no potions and she was exhausted. "If I could heal you, I would, but this is beyond my skill. You must leave. You've played your part."
"How?" asked his friend softly, "how can he go?"
"The house elves," a weary voice answered. Fleur turned grateful eyes to Hermione as she knelt beside her, lifting her beaded bag off her shoulder. She reached in and pulled out an enormous black leather satchel. Fleur's heart soared at the sight of the golden caduceus embossed on the side. She took it and quickly set to work. Ginny was there, watching proceedings carefully and seemed to come to a decision.
"Right, I'll go round up the rest, Fleur."
"Thank you," she said sincerely. Hermione turned to speak with the other boy and Fleur worked quickly. There was not enough time for Skele-Gro and the boy's leg was shattered. He needed care far beyond what she could provide. That said, she gave him potions for the pain and some to prevent the formation of clots in the bloodstream. She told him this and Hermione headed to fetch the elves. His friend with the broken arm was tended to as well and both left with an elf named Winkie, though reluctantly.
The next half hour blurred before her. She healed wounds and provided relief from pain. The bodies of the fallen were stacked in a room off the hall and house elves apparated noisily out with those worst injured. Many remained, however. One young woman had lost an eye and refused to leave. Another student broken his wrist and demanded it splinted rather than leave.
"It's not even my wand arm!" he said, cheerfully.
She treated dozens. Ginny would lead them to her or one of the other first aiders who would fix them or send them away. Few left, but the balance was filled by the piles of dead. They had to leave them, for the while. They had to leave them and wait to see what the dawn would bring. Hogwarts would prove a handsome cairn, though, if all failed.
As she worked, she thought of those she loved. Bill, with his broad shoulders and kind eyes, was off helping some of the stronger survivors to clear doorways and block stairwells. They were fortifying the castle as best they could in the time they had. Before he'd left, he'd dropped a kiss to her hair and patted her back. She ached at the thought of him dying; of his bright smile slipping from his face as Fred's had.
George stood with his mother, staying close to her as she doled out food and drink to those left. Fleur marvelled at her strength. How could she stand to do anything other than collapse after such loss? She watched as she touched the cheek of a slight girl from Hufflepuff, tears in her eyes. She would leave no other mothers suffering the way she did, Fleur realised. Her heart ached for her own mother, for her sister and father too. For the comfort. Her blood sang for her grandmother, for a host of veela to come and open the throats of the Dark Lord's troops.
Percy and Ginny moved through the hall, comforting and directing as necessary. She barely knew them, though they were technically her family. Now she'd likely die without ever knowing them. A soft chuckle behind her drew her attention to Hermione. She wished a young man good-bye before he and a weary looking house elf vanished.
Fleur touched her gently on the back and smiled at her. Hermione met her sorrow with her own, though there was sweetness there too. "It's almost time," she said. "Are you ready?"
Fleur nodded and stood, hauling the bag with her. Hermione took her elbow and led her into a side room, the same where Fleur had first eyed up her Triwizard competitors. Poor Cedric. His heart would have broken at the sight of this. She envied him, knowing that he'd never had to live through this war. She even missed Victor; big, clumsy Victor with his earnest belief in valour and bravery. She wished he were here too, to rally the troops and lead the charge. She let herself be led to a dark corner where Hermione took the bag from her and swished a screen around them.
"Don't tell me that was in your bag, too," she said, rubbing her tired eyes.
"No, of course not. Madame Pomfrey brought them from the infirmary," Hermione whispered. "The worst are in here."
"Then why are we?" Fleur asked, exhaustion finding her now that she had nothing to do. Her thoughts were muddled and she longed to lie down and sleep.
Hermione flushed. "I didn't think you'd want me to undress you in front of everyone."
Fleur's mouth gaped open and she released a little gasp of amazement. She brought her teeth together and felt her nostrils flare. One last time before their final battle? It seemed gloriously romantic. And horrifically inappropriate.
"Now is not the time or place, Hermione," she said sternly.
Hermione rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. Despite herself, she was blushing. "To heal your leg, Fleur. Your jeans are soaked with blood."
Fleur coloured with embarrassment and turned from Hermione, undoing her belt and buttons. "Well, of course. Thank you."
Hermione had to cut the jeans from her to get them off and hissed at the gaping wound in the back of her leg. Fleur lay on the floor on top of a blanket and closed her eyes. Soft hands cleaned her and Hermione spoke to her as she worked. It was incredibly soothing and she began to hum, wanting Hermione to hear her song again, just in case.
"It's dirty," she said, quietly, over the music of Fleur's voice, "and wide. It looks very painful. I, I didn't see Harry in there. I haven't seen him since we got back. I'm worried. I know he's going to go out and face you-know-who and I know I should stop him. I know he's going to die and I can't stop it."
Tears dripped onto Fleur's leg and she turned her face. "He will not die, Hermione."
Hermione swiped her tears away and shook her head. "No, you don't understand. He has to. He's the last of them, the final one," she said, with such sadness that Fleur ached to hear it. "I think I've suspected it for some time, now. Since we started this. That's why I couldn't leave him. But I didn't believe it, not really, not until tonight. I think that he's going to his death and I can't stop him. I should be with him! I should have followed him… I just turned around and he was gone."
She began to weep and Fleur sat up, holding her tightly. Hermione's grip was fierce and almost painful. This talk disturbed her, all this nonsense about Harry having to die. What on earth did Hermione mean? Had the grief gotten to her?
"No, no," she said, kissing messy hair, "he is not for death tonight, Hermione. His future is with you and the ones he loves. He has known death his entire life and never surrendered. Why should he begin now, when he is so close to victory?"
"You don't understand. If I'm right," Hermione gulped, "he has to."
Fleur shook her head again. "You speak as if it is fated to happen, hmm? Well, we are masters of our own fate. He wants a family. Ginny, a home, perhaps children someday. He will make it so. We master our own destiny, my darling, all of us."
Hermione lifted teary eyes to Fleur's and regarded her seriously. "How can you still have hope, after tonight?"
"Because you are here," she said, softly and with love. She lowered her face and kissed Hermione gently. It was absurd. She was sitting half naked on the ground and they were ten minutes away from almost certain death. Hermione's face was wet with tears and she gasped as they opened to one another, breathing in each other's breath. She wound her fingers into Fleur's loose hair, pulling her close. Every part of Fleur responded eagerly. Her heart thumped against her ribs; her chest shook with the effort of drawing in breath. Her hands trembled and stomach clenched.
They drew apart after a few long moments. Fleur felt herself aching for the other woman, desperate to lay her down and spend the rest of their lives entwined together. Knowing how short that span would likely be, she took Hermione's face and stroked her cheeks with her thumbs.
"I love you," she said, quietly. "My heart cracked when I saw you arrive at my home and it filled with you. I fell in love with your strength and courage. With your warmth and resilience. I love you and I shall see you at the end of this battle, when we will celebrate victory."
She saw wonder in Hermione's eyes, her tears vanished. She looked as if she wanted to reply and opened her mouth.
"Fleur, I… I don't know what to say."
"Tell me when it's all over."
As dawn's twilight brightened the sky, a thin and cruel voice lifted high with malevolent glee rolled over Hogwarts. Everyone stopped what they were doing and listened. The small noises which indicated activity faded as people stilled, dread filling their hearts.
Harry was dead.
Fleur heard it, as did the woman in her arms, but she did not believe it. Hermione shook her head and almost wept once more but Fleur refused to listen. She stood and pulled her bloody jeans back on, quickly repairing the cuts. She soothed Hermione and pulled her to her feet, stroking her face and kissing her once before leading her out into the Great Hall.
"He's lying," Ginny said hotly, fists clenched by her sides. Fleur nodded in agreement and led Hermione to stand with her. The redhead saw Hermione's tears and gripped her shoulder. "He's lied since the day he could open his mouth. Why start telling the truth now? Come on, I'll kill the liar myself!"
Molly and Arthur's eyes were leaden with despair and the Weasley matriarch shook her head. "Ginny, no, please. Leave now, please. With the elves. Go to Muriel's or, or Bill's. Try to get out of the country, to France," she threw desperate eyes to Fleur, who nodded. Her mother would take her, of course, but none could force Ginny to leave.
"No, mum," she said, calmly. "Come on. Let's go and see what he has to say for himself." She turned and left; her brothers, Fleur and Hermione following her. Bill laid his hand on Fleur's shoulder and grinned when she turned to face him. She caught his eye and felt sorrow take her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"What for?" he murmured back, glancing at Hermione with a small smile, "save your sorries for the Death Eaters. Actually, don't apologise, just batter them."
Fleur laughed and moved forward, keeping close to Hermione and Ginny. Ron fell in beside them and they led the march down the long hall. All joined them, some limping and others still oozing blood. All filed out, noble and brave despite their worry and dread. Here, Fleur knew, fear had been met and mastered. Courage burned in the hearts of all who followed Ginny, despite the horrors they'd seen and the terror that awaited them.
McGonagall met them at the door and did not advise Ginny to remain behind. She drew her wand and took the lead, making for the open doors. Across the courtyard, arrayed behind their master, stood hundreds of Death Eaters. They jeered and taunted them. Some gestured with their hands and others danced on the spot. Hermione's shoulders tensed and she gasped, having apparently spotted Hagrid in their midst.
Hagrid who was cradling the tiny, pathetic form of Harry Potter in his arms.
"NO!" screamed McGonagall, a hand flying to her mouth. Hermione and Ginny screamed too, both launching forward. Fleur grabbed them by their tops and hauled them back. Ginny twisted out of her grip and got all of three steps before Bill grabbed her around the waist, hanging onto her as she screamed Harry's name. Fleur had grasped Hermione securely and was sure she'd be deafened by her. Ron clung to Ginny as well and was calling for his best friend, voice raw with grief.
Fleur's heart thumped. It was over. They'd lost. She felt despair open beneath her and would have gladly succumbed had it not been for the woman in her arms. No. She'd remain strong for Hermione, to protect her now.
Voldemort silenced them and strode, crowing and gleeful, around Harry's limp form. Ron roared at him, taunted him, and all of Hogwarts raised their voices with him. When Fleur joined in, Hermione did too, casting scorn and disgust towards their foes.
The pale face of Voldemort was lit by the pre dawn light, delight on his face as he told them how Harry had tried to escape.
"No!" Hermione bit out, "he wouldn't!"
"Never!" came another voice and, off all people, Neville Longbottom broke from the crowd behind them and ran, wand raised, towards Voldemort. He was disarmed before anyone could move and lay in a pained heap on the ground. Fleur watched in wonder as the boy, who she remembered as quite timid, roared his defiance at Voldemort, every inch a Gryffindor lion. Pride rose in Fleur's chest and she joined her voice to the others again as they screamed at the vile figure before them, standing as one behind their unlikely spokesman.
Voldemort's reply was drowned out but his malicious intent clear when he placed a misshapen hat on the young man's head.
"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," said Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colours of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"
"The Sorting Hat," Hermione whispered, "he's going to kill Neville! Fleur, let me go!"
Fleur grunted and shook her head, drawing her wand. She kept a tight hold of Hermione's arm and cast an eye to Bill, who copied her actions with Ginny. Ron drew his wand and stepped forward, many other following his example. The Death Eaters, almost as one, raised their wands and moved closer too.
Before disbelieving eyes, Voldemort lit the hat on Neville's head. The curse keeping him from moving did not prevent him from screaming and Fleur felt bile rise in her throat.
"We must act!" McGonagall hissed, "charge them on three! Everything you've got."
Fleur released Hermione entirely and lifted her wand, tensing her muscles to spring forward. "Stay close to me," she hissed at Hermione, "and Ginny. We must keep her safe."
Hermione nodded and leaned forward, ready to run. On the count of two, however, a cry rent the air and a giant came rumbling around the side of the castle, towards the Death Eaters. Fleur blinked and heard Hermione laugh with surprised relief. At the same time, Death Eaters fell and the defenders of Hogwarts were shocked to see arrows sticking out of them.
"Centaurs!" one boy called. Confusion reigned, albeit cautiously optimistic confusion, and McGonagall lifted her hand to pause the charge. Neville ripped himself from the curse holding him and flung the burning hat from his head. Fleur felt goose bumps run down her spine as he drew a glittering blade from the battered hat and swung it skilfully through the air, whipping it behind him. He stepped forwards, not towards the Dark Lord but to the snake and, with a grace Fleur would not have thought possible for the lumpy lad, drew it in a quick, low arc. The snake rearing at him recoiled, its head flying from its twitching body. Heavy, muscular coils lashed spastically around the broken courtyard and Hermione and Ron cheered.
"It's done!" Ron shouted, "kill him! Get Voldemort! He can't stop us now!"
The crowd could not advance; Voldemort's giants were forcing the Death Eaters forwards. The centaurs had turned, their ranks forming for a charge and Fleur felt that the courtyard was about to get very, very crowded.
So did McGonagall, apparently. "Back! Back inside! Use Hogwarts! Gain high ground and pick them off when they come in!"
Hermione spun from her and grabbed Ron, who was beckoning the retreating Neville. Fleur saw a curse explode off a shield charm and wondered who the hell had cast it. She saw Hagrid bowling Death Eaters aside with great swipes of his fists, roaring at the centaurs to hurry up and charge. A hippogriff and the Hogwarts thestrals swooped in amongst the giants, goring their heads and faces.
Fleur ran forward and grabbed Neville's arm, Ron grabbing the other. They hurried inside, ducking into an alcove to one side. Hermione was already dropping dittany onto his singed ears.
"Wand!" he cried, "I need a wand!"
"Here," Hermione said, handing him Bellatrix Lestrange's hard wand. She'd brought it with her for no reason other than they had no others and a spare wand could mean the difference between life and death. "It belonged to that bitch outside who tormented your parents. But she never defeated them and you're their son! This is yours!"
Fleur wasn't sure if it was true, and she was certain the wand wouldn't believe her, but Neville's eyes hardened and he stood, sword in one hand and wand in the other. "Come on."
"Bloody hell, Neville," Ron said as they turned back to the Great Hall, "you're fucking ace, you know that?"
Fleur agreed wholeheartedly. They moved forward, watching in awe as witches and wizards poured in, routing the Death Eaters and screaming for their lost children. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grannies, uncles, cousins; entire families had come to their aid.
"En garde!" shouted a round little wizard and Fleur almost stumbled to a stop.
"Papa?" she called, incredulous. Her mother stood there too, sending curses at Death Eaters as they ran.
"Fleur!" her mother scolded in rapid French, "eyes in front! Your enemies are all around!"
"We have brought reinforcements!" her father chirped, bounding off.
And it was true. Dozens and dozens more witches and wizards were pouring in after the Death Eaters, roaring at them and hurling curses. A muscular red-haired, scarred man hurtled over the fallen form of a Death Eater, jinxed one and punched another in the face. A curse whizzed at his back but a shield charm absorbed it easily. The man who'd thrown it looked baffled before he was kicked in the face by an enormous young wizard on a broom. Fleur looked up and saw Victor and three other fliers dive into the midst of the chaos and leap off their brooms, roaring in Bulgarian.
A rough hand on the back of her collar tugged her back as centaurs roared through the door and she fell against Ron's chest. "Merci," she called, struggling upright.
"No worries," he called, delight in his pale blue eyes. "Did you see that? Charlie and Krum and the centaurs?"
Fleur was quite sure that she had not one ounce of surprise left in her but was proven badly wrong when a knobbly, bony little form pushed past her legs, scowling at the chaos.
"Kreacher!" Hermione shouted, "I thought the elves were staying with the wounded?"
"Healers arrived, so there was no need to stay. The need here was great. Stand aside!" he bellowed in his croaky voice. The little group did so and house elves poured out of the corridor, running after Kreacher who was shouting battle cries as he went.
"For Hogwarts!" he cried, "for master Regulus and Harry Potter!"
"For Hogwarts!" his troops echoed, throwing themselves into the battle with malicious glee.
They finally entered the Great Hall. In the chaos, it was hard to know exactly what was happening or who was winning. The size of the centaurs counted against them as they couldn't move without trampling their allies. A house elf leapt onto one and used him to launch itself at a Death Eater, bashing him in the face with a frying pan.
Hermione grabbed Fleur's elbow and tugged. "We have to get to Voldemort! He's as mortal as any of us, now! We have to finish it!" Despite not knowing precisely what that meant, Fleur pressed on, heading right for the centre of things. A howl sounded beside her and she was bowled aside by a snarling, grey lump of spite and fury. Sharp teeth closed on her upthrust arm and shook viciously. She kept her wand in a grim hold and, using all her strength, kneed Fenrir Greyback between the legs. His jaw tightened in spasm and she cried out in pain as he momentarily bit down harder before releasing her. One hand went to his scrotum and the other clumsily swung at her head. He didn't appear to want to release his wand but did want to throttle her. He leaned his arm across her throat and bore down.
She snarled and bit him instead. See how you like that, for a change! He jerked his arm back and fell to the side as he was cursed by Ron and then Neville. She nodded her thanks as Neville hauled her up and continued after his foe. She turned and felt her heart drop from her chest. Bellatrix had set her sights on Hermione, who was finishing off a masked Death Eater. She raised her wand and cackled.
"NO!" Fleur roared, rushing her from one side, just as Greyback had done to her. Hermione heard her shout and whirled around, eyes wide with terror. The pair landed heavily and Bellatrix swiped sharp nails over Fleur's forehead, sending hot, stinging blood into her eyes. She couldn't see where she was aiming and dared not let off a curse blind. Hermione screamed her name and Bellatrix formed the first word of the killing curse. She found herself lifted in the air, borne aloft and flung across the room, sailing through the air and jerking to a stop. Furious, she wiped the blood out of her eyes and squinted down. Bill and Charlie had obviously seen her zooming across the room and halted her.
"Ginny has good aim, doesn't she?" Charlie remarked with a wry smile. Bill healed her wounds and sent a blast of cold water at her face, washing the blood from it.
"Back to them! We have to, they're trying to kill Voldemort!"
The three pushed and shoved their way forward, watching each other's backs as they went and felling any Death Eater who crossed their path. Bill howled, which confused a pair who'd cornered an older wizard and they quickly fell at the grateful man's feet.
By the time they reached Bellatrix, Hermione and Luna were holding onto Ginny, eyes wide as they watched Molly Weasley duel the vile woman. Fleur and the boys ran forward, only to be sent back.
"She's after vengeance," Bill muttered.
"She'll have it," Fleur said, confidently before lights flared before her eyes and pain exploded in her head. She fell forward and received a sharp kick.
"She won't be the only one, you little whore!"
Bill roared again and threw himself at Greyback, slashing curses as he went. The great werewolf had apparently been disarmed by Ron and Neville but not killed. Fleur grimaced and lifted herself up. Apparently, they'd forgotten that most werewolves had the constitution of oxen.
Charlie stood behind her with yet another Death Eater and Fleur groped on the ground, searching for her wand. Her hand closed on an arrow and she frowned, continuing her search until she found her wand. She regarded the bloody arrow with curiosity and held it firmly. Greyback had thrown Bill to the ground and was advancing on all fours. He presented little in the way of a target and Fleur did not want to hit Bill. She reached up and tore her necklace from her, hissing in pain as it bit into her. She pressed the chain to the arrow head, whispering a charm to meld them together. The moonstone fell to the floor, forgotten immediately.
Bill's wand lay several feet from him and he held Greyback by the shoulders, trying to avoid his snapping jaws. Fleur saw her moment and leapt on his broad, powerful back, grabbing a handful of his greasy hair and pulling backwards sharply. The beast howled and rolled onto his back, knocking the wind from her lungs and cracking her head against the stone floor.
"Die, you accursed dog!" she hissed painfully, stabbing the head of the arrow into the side of his neck. He roared in anger and she pulled it upwards, feeling it slip free from his flesh. She stabbed again and felt a torrent of blood wash over her, foul smelling and acrid. His screams trailed off and he rolled to one side, pitifully whining and holding the ruin of this throat. He coughed and fell, dead beside her. She lay aching on the ground and moaned with pain.
"Shit, Fleur," Bill called, washing the blood from her and embracing her from behind, sitting her up. "Are you all right?"
"I've been better," she admitted. "And you need to learn how to summon warm water, mon loup."
Then there was an awful laugh, which drew their attention back to events transpiring in the middle of the room. Fleur picked herself up and limped forwards, spying Ginny, Hermione and Luna rooted where she'd last seen them. She followed their gaze and saw Molly standing with a somewhat dazed look on her face, over the still and wide eyed form of Bellatrix Lestrange. As Fleur approached the group, Luna put a hand on Ginny's back. That was all the impetus she needed and she raced forwards, embracing her mother firmly.
A dreadful scream filled the air and Kingsley Shacklebolt flew backwards, thumping into Charlie. All moved to stand with Molly, arcing protectively around her with wands raised. The Dark Lord turned to them, utter hatred on his inhuman face and lifted his wand. Fleur felt the very air leave the space around them as power, evil and full of malice, filled the hall around Voldemort.
He's going to kill us all with one stroke, she thought, realising the foolishness of all standing together. She clenched her jaw and grabbed Hermione's hand, squeezing it firmly and feeling the other witch reply in like form. There were, Fleur mused with heavy regret, much worse ways to die.
The power flew at them but exploded against a shield before them, washing away like the ebbing surf. The glare faded and Fleur was utterly amazed to see Harry Potter standing, alive and well, in the middle of the hall. After a roar, silence fell.
And so Fleur, tightly gripping Hermione's hand, watched the most famous wizarding duel to ever happen, right before her own eyes.