Sigh… So no one volunteered to help me. I did get a lot of good advice though, so hopefully I did alright on this. It was a pain in the ass though.

I didn't go into too much detail on the battle. Especially because once I really thought about it, between the Cullens, shifters, AND the wizards (and witches) that Victoria and the newborns would probably be at a serious disadvantage, and the battle would most likely go pretty quick.

Anyways, hope you lot like the chapter. You're all awesome for liking and reviewing this story. It has over 1,200 readers, which I think is really cool. I never expected this story to become as popular as it has, so thank you. All of you. I really love you guys.

This chapter was both difficult and dramatic, but I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimer- Author is currently unavailable, as the Antarctica base is currently under attack by crazy people covered in glitter. He will become available once the flamethrower guns have gone online and dealt with the intruders. Thank you for your patience.

~HPT~

Chapter 24- Victoria

Harry stood in silence, looking out upon the small village before him. It was a tiny place, hidden away by strong wards in a forest. It had been built by muggleborns two centuries ago, and had remained very small ever since. Nearly all of its residents were muggleborn or maybe halfblood.

And now, all of its residents were dead.

The fires had been put out by this point, but he could still see the dark columns of smoke rising up from the remains of old wood and stone buildings. The sickening, charred scent of burning flesh filled the air alongside the coppery smell of blood.

It was a scent he was becoming far more used to than he was comfortable with.

He watched as various Aurors scattered about collecting the bodies for proper burial. It was really all that could be done for them. He felt more numb than anything at the moment. A rare occurrence for him. Usually he felt anger, but…

He was tired. The war had been going on for a few months now and it was just too much. He wanted desperately for it to end, but he was not so foolish as to honestly believe that it would. At least not easily.

But still…

He was so tired of bloodshed.

~HPT~

There is something about war.

Something that changes a person completely.

For some, war makes you strong. Hard and rough around the edges. It teaches you how to turn you heart into ice, to think only of the battle; so that you do not cry when you see people you once knew strewn out across the ground with pieces missing and blood drenching their forms. It makes you strong enough to look upon faces you recall smiling and laughing that are now twisted in horror and pain with glossy eyes that will never again show life.

For others, war breaks you. It shatters everything that you are and breaks you down until you are no more than sand upon the ground. It tears into your heart like a relentless beast, and kills you, slowly, with the all-consuming darkness that it invariably brings into your life. It makes you fall to your knees before the dead men you once fought side by side with and makes you pray for Lady Death to come and claim your soul.

But for most, it is a combination of the two. It makes you strong when out on the battlefield, when fighting. Teaches you how to lock everything away and fight, focusing only on the moment and bringing down your enemies while protecting those you call brothers in arms. But then, when the battles are over and you find yourself burying the dead, you cry. You cry for the loss of them, and for their pain. Then, when you fall into bed those nights, so tired that every muscle aches and you can barely think, the terror of battle flashes across your mind and you find yourself waking in the dead of night to the sound of your own screams and a cold sweat covering your body.

Regardless of how it is done, it is unavoidable that war will change you.

That it will turn you into something else.

A shade of your former self.

This was a fact. Something that Harry was intimately familiar with. He often found himself looking at photos of himself back from fist and second and even third year and envying the innocent look in his young self's eyes and the naivety he once had. He sometimes wishes he could go back to that; that he could forget all the unspeakable things he had witnessed and become a child once more.

It was a thought that haunted the back of his mind, along with images of those he once knew upon the ground dead and dying as he fought now.

He pushed that aside as he threw another Bombarda, hitting a young (he couldn't be much older than thirteen) vampire straight in the chest. This, it felt more like a slaughter than a battle. Flashes of light passed over head, some of them hitting their marks and some missing, and he could feel the heat of them against his skin. The combined colors mixed with the occasional flash of lightning in the clouded sky painted a macabre dance of color across the ground and his skin. The whooshes, cracks, and zinging sounds of the spells being fired and hitting their marks, overwhelmed a bit by the booming thunder, created a dark symphony to which he moved in a dance of battle and death.

They had ambushed them from the trees. Firing simultaneous Sectumsempra just as the vampires had moved to strike. The newborns and Victoria were so caught off guard that they had managed to hit six of them with direct cutting curses. They were fast yes, but the spells were faster.

Then the wolves came in.

It was obvious they had fought vampires before, though perhaps not on this sort of scale. Harry fought back the flashes of werewolves cleaving apart human flesh and blood tainting the grass of Hogwart's once beautiful ground as the shifters tore into the newborns; teaming up in twos to rip them apart. He kept his eyes on Paul even as he sent hexes and curses at the other newborns. He would protect his soul mate, even if the male didn't need it.

He watched as the large grey wolf and the smaller brown and grey one he knew to be Leah ripped apart one of the males with a snarl. One of the females lunged at him and rather than jump back he met her head on and snapped her head away from her body with a sound like boulders smashing together.

He jumped back as the Cullens rushed in, better suited as they were to handle the newborns that were stronger and smart enough to avoid the wolves and dodge the spells sent their way, only to take on a large, dark-skinned male in the next moment. Another male, smaller, Asian, came at his back in his distraction and Harry cut him off with a powerful Confringo which caused him to explode with a loud sound that was much like a bomb going off beneath a rock. He sighed in relief as the rock-like pieces of the vampire's body rained down near Paul harmlessly.

He should have paid better attention to the others.

There was a scream and he jerked around to look.

It was Hermione.

He watched, almost in slow motion as a male, older than the others, maybe thirty, dashed towards her. His claws came up and slammed into her chest. There was a spray of blood and Hermione flew back, her body slamming hard into a large tree. There was a sickening crack, and her form crumpled to the ground unmoving.

There was a pained animal sound behind him. Something like a cross between a howl and a roar, and he knew as a mass of russet fur flew passed him and tackled the newborn to the ground that the sound had come from Jacob.

But he barely noticed. It didn't even occur to him that someone must he watching his back for him to not be being attacked. He had eyes only for Hermione.

One of his first friends.

His Ally.

His sister.

She wasn't moving.

~HPT~

Paul saw Hermione get hit and Jacob rush towards the newborn that attacked her. At this point, there weren't very many of them left really. But he saw a female head in Harry's direction. He was frozen in place, staring blankly in shock at where his sister had landed. He snarled and charged the newborn.

No way in hell was anyone getting anywhere near his mate.

He felt it as he killed her; his teeth sliding through her torso like a knife through butter, easily ripping her right in two.

At first it was just a static sort of feeling in the air, like what he had felt when the spells had passed close over his head. Then he saw little shocks of what looked almost like green electricity running along Harry's skin and around his form.

He knew as they began to grown in size and number that he needed to stop Harry. He remembered all too well when he had gotten angry at dinner and made glass explode; and that time he had left Paul helpless and unmoving with his magic. He had only seemed irritated those times. But if he was truly angry?

It had not escaped his notice that his mate's spells felt stronger. That his animagus form was larger and stronger than the others. That he was the only one who didn't use a wand. His mate was very powerful, or at least more powerful than the others were.

If he were to lose control now…

He ran to him, shifting as he did, not caring that he would be nude, or that the electric magic may hurt him. He could see the last vampire being killed out of the corner of his eye. There were no enemies left. Harry would only hurt friends if he were to lose control.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's form just as the magic looked as though it may lash out. He was mildly surprised when it twisted around him without hurting him. But he didn't care about that right now.

He leaned down to speak near Harry's ear.

"You need to calm down. It's ok. They're gone now. I can hear her heart. She's still alive. Calm down-" He continued on, saying the same things over and over as Luna and Neville ran to Hermione and spread her out along the ground. He watched over the top of Harry's head as they began casting spells on her and the wound in her chest was healed up before his eyes; Jacob on his knees beside her and holding her hand.

The electric green magic continued to dance around them and only began to settle when Neville cast what looked like a spell that cleaned, and made the blood vanish away. Harry shuddered, and then sagged into his embrace and hugged him back. He held him tighter even as he felt his mate's nails dig hard enough into his lower back to draw blood.

It didn't matter.

Nothing but Harry mattered.

The shorter male let out a shuddering breath before letting go of him to run to his sister; to be certain she was alright. He let him go, nodding at the grateful glance his mate sent to him. He looked back to where the fighting had been even as he pulled his shorts from the tie around his leg and pulled them on.

The Cullens had already begun to gather the bodies and stack them in a large pile. The other shifters had all changed back and he wondered for a moment what orders Sam and Jake had sent along to Seth and the others.

Leah stood near him, acting as a sort of barrier between him and the others, and it occurred to him that she may have kept the others back while he was calming Harry down. He was grateful for that. She was a good Beta. Blaise stood next to her with her hand in a vice-grip. The guy didn't seem like the type to show worry, but he could tell he was thankful Leah was alright.

He saw Draco and Ron both a bit away looking from him to Harry and back again in awe. What was that about?

There were gouges on the ground from the wolves' claws and the vampires' feet digging in as they had moved. There were black spots from the spells he had seen that cast fire, along with what looked almost like holes from the ones he had seen made the newborns blow up as though they had swallowed a bomb. Trees near the edges were missing branches and there were the occasional unnatural cracks in the trunks; no doubt from other wayward spells.

He had to hand it to the wizards. Magic was an impressive thing.

The battle itself had been very quick; maybe 10, 15 minutes at the most. But there was a decent amount of damage that had been done to the clearing. He doubted if the Cullens would be able to play baseball here again for quite some time. Still, no one was hurt, and that was good.

He began to help gather up the pieces, occasionally sending glances at Harry to check on him as he went. The boy sat cross-legged next to Jacob, and was running his hand through her bushy hair. Luna and Neville stayed nearby as well, but neither looked alarmed any longer. Hermione herself looked a little pale, and she was unconscious of course, but she appeared to be otherwise unharmed.

Gathering all of the pieces of the newborns, and Victoria, took nearly twenty minutes, and it had begun to grow dark by the time they were done. The thunder and lightning that had been present at the beginning of their battle continued on. Paul was certain it was raining down in Forks, but here, thankfully, it remained only clouded.

He was glad it wasn't raining yet as Harry came back over to him. He looked down at him curiously as the male put his hand up. The wizards near the pile of bodies, which had already begun to twitch, moved away from it, the Cullens wisely following their lead. A jet of bright flame flew from Harry's hand, twisting into the form of what looked like a giant snake. The fiery serpent opened its' maw and descended upon the fire. The form was lost then, becoming only flames that viciously began to consume the newborns.

It was almost cruel in its' movements; eagerly destroying them. The fire almost felt sentient, and he could nearly feel its' dark glee. He looked from the disturbing flames to Harry and was somewhat startled by what he saw.

Those green eyes were cold and dark, a dangerous sort of fury rippling within their depths. If he ever had a doubt that his mate was formidable before, he no longer did.

Harry was powerful.

He was dangerous.

This didn't stop him from placing a comforting hand on the male's back and rubbing it soothingly. Harry shivered at his touch, and he was happy when his actions gained the desired effect and those eyes softened and settled, and Harry looked up at him with a small smile.

He always felt calmer around Harry. Perhaps the same could be said in reverse?

Harry gripped one of the belt loops in his shorts and leaned against him with a sigh. He no longer seemed vengeful as he watched the flames, and they themselves no longer appeared so sentient. Rather, the fire had become more normal, and Harry…

He just seemed tired. Not in a physical sort of way, but emotionally perhaps.

Paul carded a hand through his hair without a word.

They stood together in a peaceful silence. The only sounds now were the crackling and popping flames and the murmuring of the vampires and other shifters as they spoke to each other in low voices. The thunder was still going strong though, and the scent of rain was on the wind. It would reach them soon enough. But the fire would have done its' job at that point and it would no longer be an issue if it were to go out.

Paul saw Sam on the other side of the fire watching quietly along with them. The older shifter sighed before backing away from the flames until he was more in the darkness of the night that appeared to have snuck up on them rather quickly. Paul paid him no mind as the male took off his shorts to shift back to wolf form, no doubt to check up on Collin and Brady and the newborns Harry had placed under his protection.

At least, not until the black wolf jerked and suddenly took off into the trees. He looked to Edward as the mind reader's head snapped up.

"Trouble."

It was all that needed to be said.

~HPT~

At the word from Edward Harry let go of Paul and moved. His bones snapped and shifted and by the time he reached the tree-line he was no longer human. Half a moment later and a large grey wolf with dark eyes was beside him.

He ran.

He paid little attention to the trees that his wings and harsh scales scrape and all but shredded as he moved. Feet hitting the ground in a fast thump thump thump that seemed to almost match the ferocious beating of his heart within his chest.

Hermione had been hurt because of his foolishness.

Were his newborns to suffer too?

With a snarl he increased his pace. He had made a promise. He would never forgive himself if he allowed for it to be broken. He heard a calming growl from Paul as they ran together, rushing urgently towards Harry's cave. He breathed in deep, trying to calm himself. It wouldn't do anyone any favors if he were to lose it now.

Paul let loose a loud, deep howl as they ran, letting the others know they were on their way. The two of them passed by Sam, as they were faster than he was, and Harry felt a vague sense of surprise at Paul's ability to keep up with him. Drakes were some of the quickest creatures alive, be it on the ground or in the air; it was rather impressive that Paul could keep toe to toe with him.

He wondered what was wrong. Had they misjudged Victoria? Had she sent vampires after them? Was it something else? What was happening?

It seemed to take too long before they finally broke through the ring of trees. They had found themselves in the rain half a mile back, and it pelted down upon Wrath's scales mercilessly.

Wrath froze at the sight before him.

Riley and the three young wolves stood in front of Bree. She was on the ground, clutching her shoulder and whimpering in pain. He could see blood flowing down the leg of a brownish wolf that was a little bigger than the two that flanked its' sides. He supposed that must be Seth.

But it was what stood across from them that made him stop.

For they were not the only wolves in the clearing.

A large, dark grey wolf stood before them. He was the same in size as Paul but more vicious looking; his hair longer and courser. A reddish-brown wolf stood at his side. Large scars marring its' snout. There were five other, smaller wolves of varying colors behind them. With them but staying back. One of them swayed where it stood and another let out a pitiful sort of sound.

Harry recognized the smaller ones as newly changed werewolves, and only now did he become conscious of the fact that it was a full moon tonight.

But it was the larger two that held his interest.

For before him stood Fenrir Greyback…

And Bill Weasley.

~HPT~

Paul looked from the dragon-like creature beside him to the wolves before them. There was recognition in those eyes. Recognition, pain, anger, and…

Hate.

The Drake crouched down and snarled fiercely. Paul quaked at the sound, a small tangent of fear licking its' way down his spine. He had never heard a more terrifying sound. Harry's claws dug into the ground as he moved very slowly forward; much like a cat approaching its' prey. The thin spike on the reptile's head stood straight up and his pupils were narrowed into thin slits. The scaled lips were stretched open in rage, revealing long, diamond-sharp teeth that glinted in the minimal light. The rest of his form, black as it was, blending seamlessly into the night as though the shadows themselves were rearing up and licking at his form. Only the occasional silver scale, the teeth, spikes, and those hate-filled glowing green eyes allowed one to see him in the darkness.

Paul shook off the fear that had overcome him, a thrilling feeling taking its' place. His mate was terrifying, yes. But it only made the wolf he was all the more pleased. He was an Alpha. He would not tolerate being stuck with a weakling, and to know that his mate was perhaps stronger than he was made him want to purr like a cat.

As it was he settled for growling at the ones his mate's hate seemed to be directed at. If theses wolves whose scent was strangely darker than his or his fellow shifter's were enemies of Harry; they were enemies of his too.

The Drake stalked towards them, and both wisely began to back away, the smaller (younger?) members of their pack doing the same. Only one stayed where he was. A small brown wolf with grey around his head whose legs shook.

As Harry's focus seemed to be entirely on the larger two, he kept his growls aimed at the smaller ones, though he passed over the one that shook. He could smell the fear on it, not just fear of them but of its' own packmates. It was not a threat.

Suddenly the Drake shot forwards. It sprinted at them. The reddish one moved back quickly, but the large grey one was tackled harshly to the ground, those sharp teeth slashing angrily into its' side, and the long claws digging deeply into its' fur.

The red one ran.

All but two of its' packmates moved to follow it. The shaking one did not move, and another, a black one with speckles of brown jumped to try and help the grey wolf.

Paul was quick to wrestle it to the ground and throw it away from Harry. It twisted to land on his feet and faced him with a snarl. He gave a matching response and the two began to circle each other.

No way in hell was he letting it anywhere near his mate.

~HPT~

Harry relished in the coppery tang of blood that flooded his mouth as he sang his jaws into Fenrir's fur. He had meant to go after Bill and kill him for good, but the coward had moved and even now he could hear and smell him making his escape.

Fenrir twisted under his grip and tried to snap at his neck. He missed but managed to bite into his front leg with a growl, making Wrath yelp in pain and let go. The grey wolf took the opportunity that it was given and snaked his way out of the Drake's grasp.

He snapped his jaws and Wrath fell back onto his hind legs, letting out an angry roar as he clawed at him; the werewolf only just succeeding in dodging the blow. The Drake fell back to all fours and crouched again, baring his teeth at the mutt with another snarl drenched in hate. The wolf growled back and for a moment neither moved.

Wrath could just make out the sound of barks and growls and snapping jaws in the background, but focused as he was on Fenrir the sound seemed distant. He wasn't too worried. Paul could handle himself just fine.

Greyback moved onto the offensive this time, charging towards him with a sound like a roar. He jumped to the side in a dodge, but the werewolf spun, his feet scraping into the dirt and pounced. Wrath roared in rage as he felt the werewolf land on his back and jagged canines rip into the spot where neck meets shoulders. The wolf shook its' head viciously from side to side; tearing flesh and scraping against bone.

The Drake jerked about, bucking like a bull and even flaring up his wings in an effort to knock Fenrir off. It was useless. Finally with another roar he flipped himself, slamming his back, and consequently, Fenrir as well, into the hard ground. He heard the wolf yelp in pain and felt something in the mutt's torso snap. His spikes dug into Greyback as he twisted himself to spring back onto his feet.

He felt a sharp pain in his wing as he did so that made him hiss. He could see the end of it twisted into an unnatural position from the corner of his eye but he didn't look away from Greyback. The werewolf tried to get up only to yelp and fall to the ground again; the landing making him whimper pitifully. Wrath circled him until he was parallel with the grey wolf. Fenrir kicked his legs uselessly and tried to snarl at him only for the sound to turn into another whimper.

Wrath growled at him and lifted his long tail up. The appendage slammed outward like a whip and hit the grey wolf in the head hard; he slumped to the ground unmoving. Wrath gave an angry grumble. He was alive, but he wouldn't be waking anytime soon; even with werewolf healing. And by the time he did awaken, he would be in a Ministry holding cell with magic-sucking restraints trapping him in place.

He heard a cracking sound and swung his head to look behind him. He watched as Paul pulled away from the wolf he had been fighting, his teeth having just been in its' neck. Judging by the state of that neck and the crack he had heard…

Paul's opponent was not so lucky as to get away with his life.

He could see the brown wolf off to the side, and as his eye's met green ones darker than his own it let out a whimper and dropped its' head in a submissive gesture. He nodded at it. That wolf would not cause them any trouble.

He continued to look around and saw the other shifters at the edge of the trees. They were staring at him fearfully and his heart panged. He turned towards the younger shifters and his newborns. Riley did not look afraid, but the wolves did. Bree was still on the ground, and he could see her mouth open in what looked to be a silent scream. He stepped towards them worriedly only for his steps to falter as the wolves backed away from him.

He paused, staring at them with a pained look in his eyes. In the next moment he felt something brush against him. He looked down to find Paul looking up at him. There was respect in those brown eyes. Respect, assurance, and something he might dare to call love. But there was no fear. Paul leaned up and gave a loving wolfy lick to his snout.

He sighed in relief. At least Paul wasn't afraid of him. He closed his eyes then and felt his bones snapping and creaking. He let out a pained noise as the shift upset his injuries. He gasped as it was over and let out a few shuddering breaths before taking stock of himself.

There was an open wound on the back of his neck, two fingers on his right hand looked broken (likely transfer from the damage to his wing), and he was positive he had at least one cracked rib (though he wasn't sure where he got it). He twisted one hand into Paul's fur and brought the other one up to his neck. He said a mumbled Exuro and held back a scream of pain as he cauterized the wound. The wolf next to him licked his face in comfort, and then his neck as well; the cold tongue soothing the burn. He looked to his fingers and snapped them back in place with a grunt.

It was enough for now. He wouldn't die anymore, and Luna could always fix him up properly later. He needed to see to Bree now. He glanced at Fenrir's still form and looked up at Paul.

"Guard him."

The grey wolf nodded, and with another gentle lick moved to stand by the unconscious werewolf. Harry stumbled towards his newborns determinedly and paid no mind to the shifters as they moved out of his path. He cursed himself at the sight of Riley's shocked face; only now realizing the vampire had still been unaware that he had a human form at all. He offered an apologetic look as he spoke.

"I'll explain later." He looked to Bree then. She still seemed to be in pain but he could see no visible wounds on her. He kneeled next to her and touched her cold face but she made no sign she was aware of him. "What happened?" He asked, looking back up at Riley.

The young vampire grimaced, "The red one bit her."

Harry paled. The words making him feel cold. Werewolf venom was like deadly poison to vampires and vice versa. He turned to the shifters.

"I need your help." Sam seemed to shake back his fear at the sound of Harry's serious tone. "I need you lot to guard him." He pointed to Greyback. "I'm going to apparate her to my house to get her help, but I can't risk him escaping." Sam stepped forwards and nodded. Harry turned to his soul mate. "Paul." Brown eyes looked to him attentively. "I want you with me." The wolf nodded and he saw him begin to shift back as he turned to Riley. "I need you to stay with the shifters." He motioned towards Fenrir. "If worst comes to worst you can bite him. Vampire venom is as fatal to a werewolf as it is to a shifter."

"I will." Riley nodded in a determined sort of way and moved to stand near the unconscious wolf as Harry felt Paul come up beside him.

"I need you to touch me and hold on tight." He ordered as he grabbed onto Bree. The shifter nodded and knelt down beside him; strong arms wrapping around Harry's torso.

A moment later there was a soft crack and they were being squeezed from all sides. They landed in the empty living room as the others were still in the clearing and Harry immediately rushed to the fireplace. He took a handful of green powder from the pot on the mantle and threw it into the flames.

He only hoped the man could help.

~HPT~

So how many of you saw that coming?

*evil laugh*

I hope you liked the chapter. I don't know when I'll post the next one but I'll try to update soon.

Reviews? How did I do with the fighting? Was it terrible? Okay? Actually decent? Any questions?