CHAPTER 14- THE SECOND BATTLE
There was a single breath of utter silence, then the night burst into a thousand bangs and flashes as the Death Eaters mounted their assault. Light was flaring through the bars of the gates, warping and melting them, and it was all Neville could do just to counter, blocking and deflecting the spells as fast as he could, feeling them singe his hair and skim past his face in tingling streaks of far-too-close.
"All out!" both boys shrieked trying to juggle the counter curses and backfiring them at the men in black robes. The remaining professors sitting just inside the gates opened them and started helping the Order and the boys. The D.A filed through on stance, forming rows of lines behind Harry, Neville and Snape.
A giant, at least twenty feet tall, slammed through the stones as easily as a stack of children's building blocks, and Harry barely dodged a chunk the size of an anvil that went flying past him to imbed itself several inches into the soft earth of the lawn. He hit his knees, rolling beneath a streak of livid green and coming up again to fire his own Killing Curse directly into the back of a Death Eater that had Parvati pinned. The black-robed figure dropped, and she spun away, her wand a blur as she dueled three more who had just climbed over the breach in the wall.
"Mike! Get some of the swing down here! We need –" The words cut off in a harsh gasp as the corner of Neville's eye found the blue satin trim on what he had thought was the body of a fallen Death Eater.
A jagged chunk of stone had caught the Ravenclaw on the side of the head, smashing it completely away, and the remaining side of his handsome face was frozen in a look of uncomprehending shock as white fragments of shattered skull and pearly pink brain gleamed unnaturally in the moonlight and the multicolored flicker of hexes and curses.
Neville felt nothing, and he spared not so much as a second for the soldier who was so obviously beyond help. His wand snapped towards the castle, and a silver bulldog exploded away to deliver the message Michael never could, and he was back to dueling the never-ending stream of faceless, remorseless silver masks and black hoods. Somewhere from among the Death Eaters, a witch's voice raised in a high, keening shriek of joy, and Neville felt a surge of power that blasted two more away as his own shout of rage joined the battle cry that he knew had to be, could only be Bellatrix LeStrange.
It was one minute past twelve. The Battle of Hogwarts had begun.
The gates were gone, and they had breached the wall in two more places now, the giants lumbering past the defenders towards the castle, all attempts to stop them bouncing uselessly off their thick, toughened skins. Death Eaters poured into the grounds like a black river, and Neville found himself back-to-back with Ryan Vance, no longer even consciously aware of the spells he cast, but dueling on pure instinct alone as his wand snapped and swung, switching from one hand to the other as they came at him relentlessly.
He felt the other young wizard stiffen behind him, and he knew instantly that Ryan had been hit. Before he could yell above the din of combat to ask how bad it was, he heard a hideous splattering sound, and the comforting pressure at his back fell away, leaving him open to attack from behind. Neville spun, then recoiled in horror.
Ryan was on the ground, twitching in a last, feeble spasm. The man had turned inside out. His jaw hung bizarrely, completely dislocated, and his mouth had torn open at the corners in a fatal parody of a grin as every organ in his body had vomited out to lie in a pile of dark, livid reds and pale, wet loops of intestine beneath him.
A curse brushed the edge of Harry's sleeve, setting it smoldering, and he forgot the carnage at his feet, spinning to deflect the next attack as he refused to look down again at whatever it was that squished beneath his shoes. His arm was starting to really hurt now, the cotton cloth of his sleeve charring as the skin beneath blistered, and he slashed at his shoulder with his wand as he brought it up into the face of the next Death-Eater, grabbing the slit fabric again on the downstroke and tearing it away.
"Neville!" It was Shacklebolt, and the imposing Auror was at his side, a deep gash dripping blood down the side of his neck from the smoothly shaven scalp. The heavy acacia wand never stopped moving as he cast the briefest of glances at the younger wizard. "There's no more use trying to hold the gate…too many of them are through already. We're pulling in closer to the castle…come on!"
He didn't bother to acknowledge the order with anything more than the briefest of nods, but backed slowly across the lawn, keeping his back to Shacklebolt as Parvati joined their tight knot. Then Stewart was with them, limping badly and white-faced from a curse that had left his right knee a shredded and swollen mass that no longer resembled any kind of functional joint, and they made their way slowly back towards the castle, every step a fight for their lives.
Parvati screamed as a hex set her long hair on fire, but the stench of burning had barely risen into the night air before Shacklebolt severed it with a flick of his wand, the glossy black strands falling forward around her face in a suddenly chin-length bob as the thick plait flared harmlessly on the grass. The scream had struck something in Neville, however, and he jerked his head towards Shacklebolt. "Tighten in!" he shouted, "I'm going to get us something that'll cut their numbers some!"
Pointing his wand at the pile of rubble where Michael had fallen, Harry summoned the broom, kicking off hard into the air the instant it was in his hand, still struggling to find his seat as it rocketed up over the battle below. He wavered, nearly falling before he had his balance properly, then turned, aiming straight towards the tallest tower of the castle where a steady strobe of flashes and bangs told him the snipers were taking full advantage of their lofty view.
He hovered an instant, searching for the flyaway gray hair and plump figure he needed, then dove sharply, "Professor Sprout!"
She looked up, stepping back from her position at the battlements to face him as he landed. "Potter? We saw them break through the gates, are you –"
"Mandrakes!" He reached out, grabbing her arm urgently. "Professor, are the Mandrakes full grown yet? There's still a lot of them clustered together out there; if we fling them over the walls, smash the pots –"
"Not fully mature yet, but old enough to kill, oh yes!" Her wand shot out, summoning her own broomstick from the corner by the door leading to the castle below. She mounted it, nodding at Luna, who had never left her own post, firing spells one after the other down into the knots of Death Eaters as if it were merely target practice. "Miss Lovegood, you hold the tower!"
"Yes, Professor," Luna replied calmly, not even looking up as the others took off and swept down towards the greenhouses on the other side of the school.
They passed Professor Hooch in mid-air, and Sprout wheeled as Harry continued, exchanging a brief word with her fellow teacher before joining him again. "Diggory, Bell, and Summers will be joining us," she informed him. "We'll need more than four hands to carry enough of them, and we won't be able to fly without risking dropping them where we don't want to. They hate heights, and they're too prone to squirm."
"We'll cut through the castle, then." The glass sides of the greenhouses had been shattered in a dozen places, and the plants within writhed and thrashed in ignorant outrage of the shards of glass, hexes, and chill night air that had violated their sanctuary. They abandoned their brooms, running inside and ducking the waving leaves and vines enroute to the long table that held the innocent-looking pots that he hoped would wreak such havoc among their enemies.
He grabbed up an armload, then hesitated. If he sacrificed his wand hand, he would be able to carry twice as many, but he would be helpless, having to rely on speed and agility alone in a mad dash through the battle. But if they didn't do something to drastically even the odds, they were all as good as dead anyway. His decision made, he scooped up as many as he could carry, then turned, only to have Sprout shove a pair of fuzzy earmuffs over his head with an admonishing glare. Harry nodded his thanks, grateful that she had thought of it, as he would have been an extremely embarrassed ex-star Herbology ghost in a few minutes had she not.
The other three had arrived now, taking piles of their own and being likewise quickly fitted with protective earmuffs, and Harry felt a moment's pang of guilt as his eyes met for an instant with Cedric's. The terrified exhilaration of the smile said all too well that he is ready for the battle.
"WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO RUN LIKE HELL," Harry shouted to make himself heard through the muffling shields, "STRAIGHT THROUGH THE CASTLE AND JUST HOPE WE DON'T GET HIT, THEN WE THROW THESE OVER THE WALLS INTO THE DENSEST KNOTS OF DEATH EATERS WE CAN FIND!"
There were nods all around, and they set off at a flat sprint, the broken glass of the greenhouse crunching underfoot before being replaced with an obstacle course of larger and more worrisome pieces of stone that had been blasted from the gargoyles, gutters, and window-ledges of the castle itself. For a moment, he wasn't sure how they were going to get past their own defenses, but the kitchen doors seemed to recognize Sprout's approach, and they flew open, slamming and bolting behind them again the moment the five of them had passed.
House-elves were cowering beneath the tables and counters, their hands clenched over their heads and their huge eyes bulging with terror at the sounds of the battle outside, but Neville paid them no mind as he shouldered through the door beside the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room and ran towards the stairs. He took them three at a time, skidding slightly and barely managing to cling to his volatile cargo as he turned a sharp corner towards the corridor that would lead him to the entry hall.
He nearly slammed headlong into Neville, twisting quickly to the side and just brushing the other wizard with his shoulder as he passed. Part of him wanted to stop, to get an update, but there was bloodshed before it could all get any was no time. They just had to keep fighting.
Neville looked confused at the sight of a half-dozen earmuff-clad fighters who seemed to have decided to start transplanting things in the middle of a battle, and Harry shouted back a hasty explanation over his shoulder. "Mandrakes! Going to lob them over the walls – they won't like this!"
Then Neville had been left far behind, and the heavy double doors were ahead of them. They paused barely a moment, and Harry kicked the door twice, hesitated, and then twice more before yelling through to the Lieutenant guarding the entrance outside. "ERNIE, LET US OUT! IT'S HARRY!"
"Prove it!" came the voice from the other side, strained but thankfully not seeming to be injured or fading.
"CECILY!"
The doors opened just enough to let them pass, and Harry nodded hastily to Ernie as he sprinted by, Sprout and the others close on his heels. He was starting to breathe harder now, his side beginning to ache with the warning shots of a wicked stitch, but he did not allow his pace to slacken in the slightest. All around him, the grounds seemed to have come alive with their enemies, and he recognized Greyback's tribe scattered among the black robes of the death eaters, as savage in their human forms as the wolves they transformed into once a month, their hands crooked into claws and their teeth glistening as they slashed and tore at the defenders.
Katie Bell screamed beside him, and he ducked away from the blast of heat as she went up in a sudden bonfire. The plants in her arms were reduced to ash before they could issue their own cries, and he caught a moment's glance of the former Chaser's face contorted in indescribable pain as the blackening flesh bubbled and melted like wax under the cursed heat. Then she was down, her body blazing a flickering pattern of light and shadows.
The outer defenses had fallen, but the breaches were narrow, and the Death Eaters were still being met with resistance as they came through, and Harry was relieved to see that at least a hundred of them were still clustered tightly together outside, seeking their chance to break through. He skidded to a halt, lowering the plants to the ground with incongruous care, then grabbing the first and heaving it into the air. His wand was out before it had even hit the top of its arc, shooting a spell that flung it up and over the high stone wall to land among the waiting Death Eaters.
Even through the earmuffs, the howl of the Mandrake was terrible, and it was joined at once by more and more of the eerie shrieks as Cedric, Hal, and Professor Sprout began to send their own unconventional missiles over the wall. He felt sick, dizzy, his head was pounding with a headache so strong that it threatened to fell him from the layered cries of the deadly plants, but he continued to heave them up and over until they were gone, only then allowing himself a moment to drop to his knees, clutching at his head as he fought to keep from vomiting from the pain.
Looking around, he saw that Cedric and Professor Sprout were sagged against the wall, their own arsenals exhausted as they too struggled with the side-effects of their attack, but Hal was sprawled on the grass in a twisted rictus, the sides of his face still oozing blood where he had clawed at his own ears in agony. Harry felt a stab of anguish as he saw that one of the Hufflepuff's fluffy purple earmuffs had been grazed by a hex he must not have noticed, the protective padding stripped away, leaving him just as vulnerable as their intended targets.
Gathering a deep breath past the headache that still throbbed, but had abated at least to the point where he could move again, he turned and jumped, grateful for his height as his hands barely caught the upper edge of the wall. For a moment, his feet scrabbled against the stone, then he found a toe-hold, and he heaved, pulling himself up enough to see across. If they had been wrong, he knew, his head would make a lovely target, but the sight in front of him made him smile even through the horrors that had already mounted.
No less than eighty bodies lay across the ground, their limbs as grossly contorted as his comrade's, the leaves and shattered bits of pottery the only innocent-looking remains that spoke of the satisfyingly hideous way they had died. Harry turned back, dropping lightly to the ground as he grinned at the two other surviving members of his little mission. "We got –"
The rest of the sentence was drowned in a deafening crack, and everywhere, combatants froze, the battle poised in a single held breath as Ravenclaw tower shuddered. Dust puffed from the mortared stones as a trickling rain of glass sparkled down from the tall, airy windows that had once lit the intellectual haven of the common room and dormitories there, and he could just make out a mad scramble among the fighters atop the groaning tower.
Three figures took off at almost the exact moment the tower finally gave way. The massive stones split apart like eggshell, and the entire structure tipped, snapping away from the castle itself to tumble to earth with a staggering impact. As it canted, Harry saw a fourth body launched into the air, but this one had no benefit of broom. Whether she had been injured or stunned or simply unable to get to her escape in time, there was no mistaking the only witch on the battlefield who had been wearing scarlet robes as Cho Chang fell in a graceful flutter of red cloth and long black hair, finally disappearing into the dust cloud rising from the shattered tower.
"Back to the castle!" Sprout shouted, puffing for air, her round face beet red as she hurried back across the battlefield. He understood immediately. The tower's fall had given them a moment of distraction, and they would have a better chance to get to cover again before the fighting resumed properly.
Harry didn't take Sprout's lead but he headed for Lucius Malfoy standing briefly a few metres away from him. Lucius brawled an eighteen year old till he was down, blood gashing rapidly.
Lucius backed away at the sight of James Potter who was ascending his speed behind his son. "No, no you can't be alive!"
Harry unaware that his father was tailing him, he kept on moving forward and shot several curses and jinxes toward Malfoy but missed it all. "Expelliarmus!" the spell finally hit Lucius in the chest but he felt nothing at all, this time advancing forward towards Harry and James with pure hatred. He raised his wand directly towards Harry's chest, daring him to move closer. James tried to help but he was badly injured and splintered when Draco spiraled out amidst the castle and sent an unnerving hex on him.
Harry's wand was snatched from him when Bellatrix advanced from behind with a foot on top of James' body. Harry struggled when Dolohov crutched his arms behind his back. "Oh the glory Potter! Betrayal is soo sweet. Do you actually think I would go against my own father? Fool you are and a filthy little one too!" Draco's voice ringed inside Harry's head.
"You are still that liar and coward!" Harry grimaced with anger. "Fight me you bastard!"
"Oh no Potter, we shall kill you once we are done with you," Lucius mocked him then he whistled loudly and they were gone from thin air.
Hermione and Ron came a tad too late to save their friend but they knew exactly where to go to find Harry.