The Legion

In a field of brown and gray, they trudged - lines of prisoners shambling forward, their wrists bound together by ropes and chains. They looked more sad than sinister, and there was no blood left to drain from the bullet wounds on their backs and bodies. There were more men than women but they weren't truly men. They were mostly boys, a few years out of school, who had died from the failures of adults. In a different time and place, they could have been his classmates. They walked, forlorn and defeated, from the peace of death to a greater abasement.

They turned to him, eyes tinged with a faint sliver of hope. "Mercy My Lord, Mercy — save us. Let the dead stay dead." They reached their arms out in supplication, and Harry could see their hands, nails cracked and grimy from digging out of their graves. "Master, Master - help us. Return us back to death." The whispers became a crescendo, and the dirge surrounded him, until he could comprehend nothing but their suffering.

Harry Potter woke with a scream, and found himself in a comfortable four poster bed in his bedroom at Potter Manor. He was not surrounded by the restless dead. Harry Potter was not a fool - he knew it was no dream. Tonight, the dead had been forced to rise and serve, and they cried out to him for succor.

A hesitant knock sounded and the door opened slightly. "Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked blearily at her. "Hermione, what time is it?"

"It's 1 AM in the morning. I couldn't sleep, so I was reading Bathilda's A History of Magic. It is really quite brilliant." Hermione saw the sweat running down Harry's face. "Oh Harry, what is wrong?"

"I had a dream. No - that is not right. I had a vision. Something terrible happened tonight." He said.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione sat down on the bed, and bent over to hug him.

Harry became quite aware of how transparent her pale blue night dress was. "Hermione, you are in my room."

"I won't leave you, Harry, when you are so upset. Do you want to talk about your vision?" Harry's vision was focused on Hermione's chest. "Harry, my eyes are up here." she said primly.

"Sorry, Hermione." Harry sighed. "I had a vision of the dead being dragged back to life."

"You mean necromancy?" she whispered.

"They begged me to save them. I could see them. Hundreds, maybe thousands. I don't know what I can do." Hermione laid down next to him, her arms touching his, and pulled the covers over her lithe body. "Hermione, what are you doing?" he said with a tinge of panic.

"I said I wouldn't abandon you, and I mean it." she said.

"If your parents find us in my room together, they will kill me."

"Do you want to sleep in my room, Harry?" she said.

"I think that would be worse!" he said.

Hermione took Harry's hand and pulled him to the family room. She cast a Enlarge spell with her wand on a sofa. "Let's stay here."

Harry shrugged and transfigured some thick blankets. The two teenagers sat next to each other and Harry wrapped his cloak around Hermione. Hermione squeaked when she realized that the only thing visible were her hands and feet. Harry willed the Gaunt ring to become visible. The moonlight glinted off the inscriptions on the weird alien stone.

"Do you see the marks?" Harry pointed to the Deathly Hallows symbol with the triangle that enclosed the circle and the line. Hermione nodded. "My cloak is the triangle. This is the Resurrection Stone, the circle. If I had all three Hallows, I would be the Master of Death."

"What does that mean, Harry? To be the Master of Death." Hermione asked.

"I don't know. But it has to mean something. It can't just be a meaningless title in Beedle the Bard. I heard the dead speak. They called me Master and pleaded for help."

"But how would you get the Elder Wand?"

"I don't know. Grindelwald is more powerful than me - and he has an Unbeatable wand. Voldemort is strong too, and he is virtually immortal. I am not my uncle, Hermione. What if I fail?" Harry said.

"I believe in you, Harry. You will find a way." She kissed him and held him under the covers. Harry felt a sense of peace as weariness overcame him.


In the morning, the Grangers saw the two sleeping teens first. They slept facing each other, arms around each other, their lips close but not touching. The cry of outrage by Mr. Granger elicited a sharp poke in the chest.

"Richard Horatio Granger! Leave them alone." Helen said.

"But they are sleeping together!" he hissed.

"They both have their clothes on, and if they were up to no good, they have bedrooms. We have always trusted Hermione, and she has told us that Harry is a perfect gentleman. If you bother Harry or Hermione about his, you will be sleeping on the couch here, for the rest of our holiday!"

The Grangers tiptoed out of the room. Richard stifled a grumble but Helen had a smile on her face, happy that her daughter had found happiness in the magical world.


Amelia looked at Croaker with shock. Harry had sent a message requesting her presence at Potter Manor to discuss important matters. She had come with Croaker and her most trusted aurors, and Susan had tagged along as well. Her niece was outside with Hermione and the Potter siblings. That was a good thing, Amelia thought.

"We have had no reports of inferi." Croaker said.

"I am certain it was real. They were being raised, legions of them, ripped away from battlefields."

"Do you know where?" Croaker asked.

Harry shook his head. "There are lots of bodies buried all over Europe from the World Wars." Lily said.

"But Grindelwald hasn't used inferi in his armies." Croaker said.

"It is not Grindelwald. It could be Voldemort." James said.

"If Voldemort is raising Inferi in Europe, then those forces will clash with Grindelwald first. It may weaken him before he attacks England." Croaker speculated.

"These souls were suffering. They were begging for mercy." Harry said.

"The Unspeakables have never confirmed that Inferi have souls." Croaker said.

"I am sorry, Harry. Even if we knew where these inferi were being raised, I am not sure if we could do anything. Magical Britain has no army." Amelia said.

"It is unpleasant but if inferi kill Grindelwald's knights, then it does no harm to us." Croaker said.

"How can we say that? He is robbing graves. These are men and women who died in war. And these inferi won't just attack wizards serving Grindelwald - they will slaughter anything they come across. They will kill muggles - and from those bodies, Voldemort will make more inferi." Harry said.

"Harry - we don't know where Voldemort is. A lot of aurors have resigned in the past week." Amelia said.

"We also don't know whether this is a dream or not." Croaker said.

"It was a true vision, and you will know it soon enough." Harry said, a bit more harshly than he should.


Madame Bones and Unspeakable Croaker left but Susan stayed to have lunch with them in their family room. Harry brooded, his eyes sullen as he looked over his mum's map of Europe. He thought of Arcturus's story to him of his brother, dying on the battlefields with his men.

After lunch, Hermione and Rose looked on as Susan and Harry sparred. The red headed witch had eagerly waited the chance to test herself. She stood, right foot forward, offering only a view of her side, her wand angled so that she could both attack and defend. Susan was in a defensive crouch, her long hair plaited and bound behind her back. Her eyes were fixed on Harry and she looked coiled, ready to spring like a viper at any second. Harry made no extra preparations, He stood, facing Susan head on, his wand gripped in his right hand, pointing down. Harry beckoned Susan with his left hand, daring her to do her worst. There was no bowing, or flourishes or any other niceties of civilized wizards. The bell rang.

Susan jerked her hand into her robes, and threw dust in the air. She uttered a long incantation, and a large ball burst into flames between Harry and Susan. The wind blew the smell of rotten eggs against them and Rose and Hermione gagged. Susan had cast a protego, and advanced behind the cover of the fiery sphere. She cast several preventive spells and pushed the ball of flame forward.

Harry apparated, reappearing behind Susan. He whistled and the red head turned, the shock on her face giving away to a steely determination. Susan had just managed to cast a protego before the first of Harry's hexes arrived. The spells shattered her shield, and slammed her back against the first Protego. Susan slowly gave ground before the onslaught, desperately casting shields, until her robes caught fire from the flaming sphere. She yelped, and Harry drenched her with a enormous funnel of water, quenching the sphere. As the steam hissed into a thick blanket of white, Susan's wand flew from her hands and landed in Harry's left hand.

"Are you alright, Susan?" Harry asked.

Susan emerged from the mist, shivering and soaked. "Just my pride and my robes." The fire had charred the bottom of her robes black. The Potter house elf popped in with a thick green towel and Susan gratefully dried her soaked top.

"You need to be more mobile. You can't fight wizards in a straight line."

"I don't know how to apparate yet." she said miserably.

"You expended a lot of your magic in one direction. If you were fighting a group of wizards, it might have worked but not against a solitary target. Where did you learn the flaming sphere?"

"Auntie taught it to me. Aurors learn it for crowd control. I thought I could pin you down and we would exchange spells."

"Real battles aren't like that. Most fights aren't legendary duels, with bolts of energy canceling each other out. A fight should be fast and deadly. Kill or be killed. Don't cast complex spells. Stay mobile. Accuracy and speed matter. When your enemy is weak, go in for a kill shot. Don't ever give someone a chance to recover. Take their wand or break their wand arms."

"Harry, Susan needs some rest and a new robe. Not a lecture. And don't break her arm!" Rose said. "You have been in a bad mood since meeting Madam Bones."

"Actually, that flaming sphere would be effective against the Inferi." Harry mused. "I am sorry, Susan. I haven't stopped thinking about my vision."


They retired back to the house. The house elves altered a set of dress robes for the Hufflepuff, and while they waited, as they munched on snacks, Harry told Susan about his dream of the inferi. He omitted the title of Master, but told her that they cried for help, and he had no idea what to do.

"I can understand Auntie's position. The aurors are stretched thin, and that's even before Grindelwald attacks." Susan hesitated. "Harry, you really should teach us Defense Against Dark Arts."

"The Ministry will appoint someone soon. They can't possibly be as bad as Umbridge." Harry replied.

"That doesn't mean they will be good. We had Quirrel and Lockhart our first two years. They were terrible." Susan said.

"Alright, why don't you invite some of our friends, Susan. They can come over to Potter Manor" Harry finished his butter beer, and walked away. He needed more practice than a quick duel with Susan.


They gathered the next morning on a field on Potter Manor. With the exception of Luna Lovegood, the dozen witches and wizards were all fourth years. Susan had thought it best to train their year first, and if there were more Hufflepuffs than other houses, that was not surprising. The House of the Badger had become far more serious after the killings. Fleur, Gabrielle, and Hermione also attended. The loss of France had hit Fleur hard, and she knew many witches from her school who grieved for families left behind.

"What are we calling our group, Harry? Dumbledore's Army? The Defenders of the Light?" Ron asked.

"Forget silly nicknames. I just want to teach you how to defend yourself." Harry said. "Before we get started, I would like everyone to make an oath. I agreed to Susan's request because we need to defend ourselves against Voldemort and Grindelwald."

Millicent Bulstrode and Ernie Macmillan cried out together in surprise. "But Riddle was killed by Lord Black."

"That is just his body. I think he has returned." Harry said. "And I think he is bringing back the dead. I will teach you but only to defend against these Dark Lords. I don't give a fig what you want to call yourself. But if I train you, we will fight to protect our world. You don't have to swear loyalty to me, just that you will resist the Dark Lords."

"Maybe we can call ourselves, the Oathsworn." Ron said.

"Ron just swear the damn oath." Harry said.


Hermione stood in a line with Fleur, Gabrielle, Tracey and Daphne. The witches and wizards had separated into three groups. The Hufflepuffs formed a second group and the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws a third. She gripped her wand tightly, uncertain what spells would be required. Hermione had mastered the first and second year Standard Book of Spells but if Harry called for advanced hexes, she would be left behind. As she looked around the room. she saw that she was not the only anxious witch or wizard. Beads of sweat dripped from Neville's face and even the Slytherin witches, normally so cool and collected, betrayed their nervousness in their stiff body language. Only Luna seemed unaffected, although the large eagle flapping its wings on her head distracted from her calm, unblinking eyes.

"Okay, the first thing is to put your wands aside." Harry said.

Most witches handed their wands over but several wizards refused to relinquish their white knuckle grips. "What? How are we going to fight without our wands?" asked Ron Weasley.

"The best way to defend is to not get hit. We will practice dodging and moving." Harry said.

"Harry, we don't need to dodge. We can just cast the protego spell." Ron said.

"The protego spell doesn't block everything. It won't stop a killing curse. Multiple hexes will break a protego as well. When you are tired, your protego will be weak as well."

"Why can't we just use spells to dodge and move? We can use our brooms too." Ron argued.

Harry took a deep breath to calm down. "You won't always have your broom, and in a battle, you may not even have your wand. Even if you do, you should conserve energy. We can't rely on magic all the time. Sometimes magic won't work. Sometimes, if there are muggles around, you won't be able to use magic, at least not openly. Or if you are facing a much stronger group, running away is the smartest move."

To Hermione, who lived in the non magical world, Harry's explanation made perfect sense. Ron Weasley looked incredulously, wondering how an once fearless Gryffindor had become so craven."Harry, we are wizards. We fight with magic. There is nothing spells can't solve."

"Ron, we are not in a dueling competition. Grindelwald has an army — trolls, giants, obscurials, mounted wizards. Voldemort will have an army as well. What are you going to do when faced with a horde of inferi? or several mountain trolls?"

"I will just keep my wand and blast them with spells, Harry." Ron said. He twisted and twirled, like a drunken sailor, jabbing his wand like a fork at lunch. Hermione wondered if all Gryffindors had the common sense of a flobberworm.

"Expelliarmus." Harry said. Ron's wand flew to his hand. "What are you going to do now against an inferi?"

"OI! But you had to use magic to get my wand. It is not like I will lose it in a battle." Ron said with a huff.

"Ron, there are many ways to lose a wand. The disarming charm is one. You could also be running from a horde of monsters. This isn't a joyride. We need to prepare the best we can. When you are faced with a Dark Lord, you will be glad you can dodge."

Wayne Hopkins raised his hand. "Harry, why don't we learn more powerful spells. So we can fight the wizards."

"You don't need those spells. You need to make sure you are not dead, and to attack when you can. I have been in fights. Simple spells are fine. Running away is fine. Don't get killed."


Despite the grumbling, Harry started the drills. He cast stinging charms with a mere flick of his wrist, and forced the witches and wizards to dodge. Hermione rolled onto the grass. "Stay low." he shouted. "Be ready to dodge again." Hermione knew that the stinging charm did not cost much magical energy, but Harry had cast several dozen spells and did not appear even a little winded. After a round of that, Harry had given them their wands back. This time, he ordered them to dodge the spell, and then immediately cast a protego or a tickling charm. Hermione noticed that while the witches favored the shield spell, the wizards all tried to cast attacks as they rolled. Most of the hexes missed quite badly, and some wizards managed to even curse themselves. Harry simply batted away any charms that were on target with his wand, like he was swatting an insect.

After a hour, Harry called for a break. Most wizards gasped for air, holding their knees against their flushed faces as they fell on the floor. Hermione had played tennis and soccer as a child in primary school. That level of fitness was beyond the wizards, whose primary source of exercise was riding a broom. The witches hid their exhaustion better. Daphne and Tracy leaned against each other as they chatted with Millicent. Susan walked up to Harry, full of vigor, to speak for the five Hufflepuffs.

"Harry, We need to train more people. A dozen of us won't be enough if there is an attack on Hogwarts." Susan said.

Harry looked at the exhausted wizards rolling on the ground. "I agree, Susan. We need to be able to fight, even if we don't want to. "

"'Arry — when can we attack? Can we save France?" Fleur pleaded.

"I don't know, Fleur. We need to know what forces he has. We know he has trolls, giants, and obscurials. Voldemort may have inferi. And who knows whether the two will fight each other."

"What do you mean, Harry? Why would they fight each other?" Daphne asked.

Harry knew that the Ministry had withheld knowledge of the horcruxes to prevent any panic. But defeating Dark Lords would need all hands. And these students had pledged to defend England. So he told them about the dream, and that he suspected Voldemort had raised an army of inferi. He guessed that the battlefield was in Europe and that the two Dark Lords would clash, when Voldemort's forces met Grindelwald's army.

"Harry, we will support you. We will fight for you." a passionate Susan Bones declared.

"Thanks. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, Susan." Harry said.


Ron Weasley took the floo back to the Burrow at Ottery St Catchpole. He emerged at the kitchen, and sat down at the large wooden table. The Weasley family clock was set to "You are late!" and he groaned at the prospect of feeding the chickens or degnoming the garden. If he could get a bite of cold chicken, he might be able to avoid doing his chores, leaving it to Ginny. Ron puffed up his chest. After all, Ginny wasn't an important fighter in the Oathsworn.

"Ronald Bilious Weasley!"

Ron's head was stuck in the icebox, but he knew the dulcet tones of his mother. He carefully turned, a dish of cold roast chicken in one hand, and a handful of mutton meatballs in the other. His mum faced him, her hands on her hips. "I was hungry, mum."

"Where were you today? We needed you to dust the attic ghoul!"

"Mum, I was out doing important things. Fighting for Hogwarts." Ron swelled up in pride. After all, none of his brothers were being trained by Harry — even if that training involved a lot of muggle bunk, like rolling on the ground.

An old wizard in purple and pink robes appeared behind his fearsome mother. "Hello, Ronald." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "I would be happy if you shared what you learned at Potter Manor." More dishes appeared on the table, from bangers and mash to chicken pot pie to three large bars of Honeyduke's Chocolate.

Ron's eyes nearly popped from his sockets as he saw the mountain of food. "Now, let's share — after all, the Weasleys have always been an important part of Hogwarts." Dumbledore said. Both Ron and his mother beamed at the kind words of the Headmaster.


Headmaster Dumbledore summoned the parchment and his favorite ink quill, a rather gaudy keepsake he received from the ICW. He was shocked at Ronald's disclosures this evening. Harry was gathering an army, and looking to train more children. The nerve of the young Potter — risking lives in his own personal crusade for glory. After all, how could Harry face such powerhouses as Riddle and Grindelwald. Harry was irresponsible in telling the other students. He had not mentioned the horcruxes, but any half witted wizard would understand how Riddle could return from the dead. If he had so easily probed Ron Weasley, other wizards were no doubt doing the same. How could Slytherins and Hufflepuffs be trusted? Over the years, he had experienced Slytherin cunning and Hufflepuff stubbornness at their worst. Dumbledore had relied mostly on Gryffindors. They were far easier to manipulate.

Dumbledore also thought about Harry's Dream. Perhaps the Cloak was corrupting Harry. And as for inferi — an army of inferi would attract the attention of the muggles. He knew that he could not allow pureblood wizards to be killed by unthinking monsters. He began to write a letter.

The phoenix at his shoulder squawked angrily at him. "Shoo, Fawkes. You don't understand."

Fawkes spat a gob of fire, burning the letter to ashes. Dumbledore grabbed his wand and cast a spell to extinguish the flames. He opened the window, and directed the phoenix to fly outside. The bird angrily harrumphed, and then left.

Nobody understood the sacrifices that he had to make for the greater good. Only he had the vision to spare Britain from a terrible war. Dumbledore began his letter again.

Dear Gellert,

I must alert you of Riddle's plans to raise the inferi….