§
Day 8:
Fenrir wove throughout the outskirts of the dark mass, his blood alive with the scent of death and the raw adrenaline of a fight approaching. The gray hairs on his mane stood like rigid sentinels, awakened with the proximity of fresh blood. Mother Luna was rounded and filled, granting an easy form into his wolfish body. His slitted, amber irises loomed over the left flank of Voldemort's army. Grayback was captain, leading his troop of werewolves, a handful of giants, and some of the darker creatures the Dark Lord had conjured from the four corners of the earth—vampires, silkies, banshees, ghouls—all those banished from magical society. The beasts of the force, all under his command. The shifter felt his pride stoked, casting a red howl to the moon. A ripple of excitement charged through the solders. They all knew what that sound was.
It was the promise of flesh and blood, pain and cries, a red moon and a black sun.
Resentment of the mortals rekindled their effort, and the army doubled its speed; running now instead of jogging. The emerald blades cut across multi-colored limbs, a silver light deepened the shadows of their movement. It was beautiful, ethereal, and horrifying.
The sound of a thousand pounds echoed across the hill, a lone sound in the wake of silence. The Sun would sleep tonight.
Fenrir let loose another howl, egging his platoon onward. They had to reach their mark before sunup. If not, the element of surprise would be lost. Of course, with all the ancient wards around their target; he wondered if there even was an element of surprise to be lost. All this counted too much on inside help too, for the werewolf's taste. However now he was free and aroused, so he let it be and charged on through the night.
The Beasts wavered only when they approached the village. The smell of humans so close made them want to abandon their quest and ravage Hogsmeade. Grayback felt their discontent and hastily ran himself to the other flank; placing himself between the village and the army. The whites of his fangs snarled in warning.
A vampire was the first to break rank, its pale skin stretching over the werewolf leader. Fenrir leaped, caught the half-bat creature between his jaws, and cracked his spine. It had to be a bloodless kill; for he knew that the crimson sight would cause him to loose his solders. Instead, the snap reminded the others of their place—and responsibility of that night. After all, even if Fenrir didn't get them; Voldemort would. Deserters were dead in the Dark Army.
The castle light came like fireflies, flickering in-and-out of his sight. The tip of the astronomy tower was a dark spiral against the velvet blue of the sky. Hogsmeade was growing darker in the distance. They were closing in.
The sun began to tilt, finally rising drowsily. It's rays were burnt and angry—cardinal lines thin on the horizon. There was still time.
Fenrir barked out an order and slowly and mass came to a halt. The wards had begun to push against his muzzle, burning his eyes. They had to wait for it to be lifted less the entire army be burnt through. So they stayed, shuffling and grunting with want for movement again. Their quarry was so close now, almost tasteable...
The magic was heavy and ancient, but it crawled loose. Grayback felt it inch upward after being released, reluctant to leave its comfortable land; sighing its way into oblivion. The ward lifted and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was in plain, obvious sight.
The Sun was a thin disk by now.
The werewolf smiled toothily, crying to his platoon.
As soon as the signal went off, they would come... To gorge and feast in blood and ash.
What Fenrir didn't know was that his call alerted someone still awake at this hour and very close to a rather large and open window. What he didn't know is that a pair of golden eyes narrowed at him from inside the castle. What he didn't know is that the owner to those eyes would lead in his demise.
§
"If they got in through the wards, there is a traitor in the castle." Daemon never announced his presence and Blair never flinched at its suddenness as he appeared; perched beside her on the windowsill.
"Ah," She replied, looking surprisingly serious with a lined brown and thinned lips. Icy eyes observed her for a moment.
"I thought you would be ecstatic—you love to fight."
Kryeen shook her head, finally glancing away from the window. "If that was all I would be happy. However there is a little matter of how the fuck they got in here that concerns me."
The phoenix peered over the railing once more. "You have an idea of who it is?"
"Two," The woman replied. "One more likely then the other."
Daemon's attention shifted back to her. "Then why don't you deal with it?"
The tri-color haired individual scowled. "If it is who I think it is; it is going to be one hell of a mess."
"Must be bad for you to care." The phantom-boy noted, hopping down from the scene and back into the relative safety of the bedroom. "Who is it?"
The DADA professor frowned, looking down in thought. "...I'll see.."
The scarlet bird blinked in surprise. "That's quite an accusation. I know you're not fond of most people Blair; but betrayal?"
Instead of answering, the witch turned away and began to gather a number of items. "You've been around me too much. You are beginning to talk like me."
"Blair, what are you doing?" The transparent youth finally asked as she strode around the room, gabbing random items and hoarding them by a table. Everything from last week's tea to a new dagger went into a small burlap bag sat out on the table.
"I want you to take your girl and get out."
"Pardon?" Daemon ruffled his feathers, squawking.
The immortal shot him a look. "Celia—take her and leave Hogwarts."
"Why?" He seemed to have forgotten his indignation at the connotation of himself and the Slytherin together.
All items successfully shoved in; she slung the pack over her shoulders. "It's going to get very bad tonight, Daemon; and you picked a fragile one. If you want to save her, get her out of here."
"She wouldn't leave without you and the boy," The blue-eyed creature murmured in his sing-song voice. "She is very fond of you, you know?"
Blair hesitated, then shook it off. "Whatever." She was out the door, slamming it without a care.
Her companion merely faced through the nearby wall, staying with her even, powerful strides down the hall.
"Why do I think you are about to do something undeniably foolish?" He sighed softly.
Aduru glared. "When am I not doing something you don't consider foolish? When I piss?"
Down the hall, to the left, up the stairs. They kept a quick, even rhythm with each other.
"Someone has to look after you; you would never do it yourself."
Across the platform, through the doors, make a right.
"Screw you."
"That'd be rather difficult."
"Bet your whore could find a way." Kryeen smirked at him knowingly
"That was uncalled for." He was calm, too used to this.
They faced a stone gargoyle and before it had time to demand a password, the Defense Teacher had shattered it into a thousand jagged, little pieces.
Daemon slowed his defense of Celia in sudden awareness. "Blair... you think it's Dumbledore?"
The grin on her sun-kissed visage was dark and daring. Skilled hands pushed at his tall office doors.
"Only one way to find out."
§
Day 9:
It was ten past five and Harry had to thank his invisibility cloak for his freedom of movement past curfew. Of course, Moody had taught him to cast several disappearing spells on him from going chameleon to distracting a person into thinking they couldn't see you. However, he was confident in neither to risk a possible detention on this late night—early morning trip. He paused, holding his breath as Filch past by; lantern lit and muttering jaded comments about kids and the old ways. His darting, watery eyes past by the hidden boy and down the next corridor. Harry released the air from his lungs.
The student inhaled and then began his trek again. In the tinkering silence of a slumbering castle, his mind began to wander.
Of course, he wasn't upset at that. Ron and Hermione were perfect for each other—granted they both really needed to improve their kissing, it looked rather pathetic. Instead, he was angry that their relationship was all but behind his back. And said so plainly.
"We weren't trying to hide it from you." Hermione sighed, cheeks loosing their flush. "Really, it's just—"
"—You were snogging in the broom closet and you expect me to believe that it was open? Do you think I'm thick or somet—" The black-haired boy spat with the overwhelming feeling of betrayal and injustice rising.
"—We don't know what the hell to think about you anymore!" Ron cut in boldly. "We never see you anymore, hell we hardly know you!"
He wheeled to his best friend. "You think I want all this shit? That I like being the famous boy-who-lived? I've been training to fight against Voldemort, rescuing your bloody sister, and helping an immortal find her past—what the hell have you been doing? Tell me why Great Mr. Weasley can't manage to mention to his supposed best mate that he was... I don't know... dating his—"
"—Don't you dare say that we have been sitting on our bums!" The red-head roared. "We haven't done anything because we are looking for some bloody clue to help you. We've been in touch with the Order and their plans. We've been organizing a resistance and training program at Hogwarts! Tell me, when was the last time you spoke with the Order? Or Dumbledore? Or anyone besides that bloody witch? Tell me!"
They were in each others faces; noses almost touching and sinewy muscles taut for a brawl. Fire gleamed darker in each pair of eyes, clouding the twin visages.
"Stop it, both of you!" The girl stepped in, bright-eyed before the fight got physical. She placed her fingers on Ron's arm, and stepped bodily in front of the other teen. "You're both being stupid again and we don't have time for that!" Her voice choked a little, but she kept glaring.
It was practical, logical Granger. And she was about to cry in frustration or hurt or fear. But she would get them to listen to her, or so be damned.
"Ron, don't talk." The witch commanded; turning before he could protest. Her amber eyes stared straight into the emerald ones of the self-proclaimed hero and he looked down angrily.
"Harry, we would never try to hide this from you, in fact I don't really know what we are myself." The muggle-born sounded weary suddenly, and there were noticeable shadows under her intelligent eyes. "We've been trying to help you, really we have. But you've become so distant to us, Harry. You spend all your time with Blair or Lupin—and I know it's important, I do." She added when he opened his mouth to protest. "But we can help you too, if you only give us a chance."
Potter didn't meet their eyes, feeling his cheeks burn in shame and guilt. He didn't reply, and only the crackling common room fire sounded. Then a rustle of cloth as he stood; finally ready to gaze at them both stonily.
"I'm not... I'm not like you." Scar-face murmured. "And I won't drag either of you into this."
"Harry!"
"Stay safe," The Chosen One turned away, giving a bitter smirk. "Because when I'm done with all this I want my best friends back."
The fire was drowned out by the echo of his footfall, the hollow of Ron's yell, and the sweetness of her cries.
Green eyes hardened, and his smooth brow lined. It was for the best. They mean more to me then they know.
Shoving regrets in a musty corner of his mind; the Gryffindor 6th year strode down the familiar hallways and to the gargoyle statues.
"Butter Toffee," The seeker whispered from his cloak, knowing too well that the magical guardians would not be fulled by his cloak.
"'Tis a bit late, don't ya think?" The crooked-nosed one commented breezily as the stones jumped aside.
Without commenting, Harry took the last steps and raised a hand to knock on the door. He paused. There were voices.
"...And who are you, a fucking god..."
His insides froze, thawed, and did a few badly-performed cartwheels. Only one person would talk to Tumbledown like that. The wizard through open the door.
"BLAIR!"
"...deserves to have a life, to screw around—" The woman halted sharply as her name was soundly called with the thud of doors being hurled open. And there, silhouetted, stood the kid.
"Harry, I would prefer you to be a bit gentler to my doors next time." The headmaster finally commented after a brief pause. "However, as Professor Kryeen and I were just discussing you..."
"Stop the antics, you old windbag." She snapped, entire posture aggressive.
However, her last phrase buzzed loudly in his head. "Wait, I was the one who should... screw around?" The hero swallowed, cheeks coloring.
Aduru looked mildly abashed. "Poor choice of words, fine. I don't deal with kids. However, I was serious about what I said Albus," Her eyes flashed dangerously once more and the green-eyed youth stepped towards them, ready to jump between if anything rash happened.
"I won't let you fuck with his life. I'll kill you first."
"No one regrets this more than I, Professor Kryeen, I assure you." The wizened man eyed her with a cold strength; keeping his impeccable collection.
The immortal's hands slammed on the desk; causing it to spark and flame with the contact. "I don't give a damn about your regrets. You are playing him, you self-righteous bitch!"
"Language, Kryeen." Albus warned, a flicker of anger crossing his calm face.
"Shit, I should just—" The death-dealer's offensive gesture caused their subject to finally step in between his Headmaster and Professor.
"Blair, what is going on?" He demanded, folding his arms in front of a silent Dumbledore.
The fiery creature glared a very, very painful death to the wizard behind him before turning back to the charcoal-haired male in front of her. "Your beloved Headmaster is a fucking snake. He's allowed an army into Hogwarts."
Chartreuse eyes widened in surprise and his gaze flickered toward the blue-eyed man. "Professor, what is she talking about?"
"Harry," He looked worn, aged and saddened. "I did not break the wards to allow Voldemort's forces onto our school grounds. However, a large force is waiting near the dark forest. I had prior information of their attack. I would never have, however," He threw the girl a glance. "aided them."
"What about the Order? Or the Ministry?" Potter asked after a pause to process this information.
Voldemort had finally made his move.
The lines on Dumbledore's face deepened. "Alas, Voldemort divided his army into a double attack. I was forced to choose to send the Order... and out of the general good, I asked them to the Ministry. You must understand Harry, if the government fell; we would loose to many of our solders and thus the war. It was the only way, however painful for me to make."
His pupil reeled. Voldemort was attacking. The Order and the Ministry were not coming to help. The scar on his arm burnt painfully, and his vow sunk in deeper. Protect.
Aduru Eposis lunged. "Backstabbing little piece of—"
And was caught by a fast-acting seeker as his elder had raised his wand. "Blair, calm down!"
Seething, the sprite-like woman retreated; more like a caged animal than human with a predatory gleam in her golden orbs.
"I have to do what I can to fight him. Professor Dumbledore did what he should have." The reluctant hero admitted with heaviness before meeting both their eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me..."
The door shut behind him, resounding.
Blair shot one last kill-you-a-thousand-ways glance. "Know that nothing but that boy's love protects you now."
Albus nodded his head. "That is all I have ever wished for."
Her eyes narrowed. "And keep in mind that I will do as I say. That kid is not your pawn any longer. I've burnt his cords."
Blue eyes were unreadable behind their half-moon spectacles. "We shall see."
Kryeen growled low in the back of her throat before following a patient Daemon out of the office.
§
Day 10
"What do you think he meant by that—going to challenge Voldemort?"
"He's trying to fight the entire war without anyone else." Celia replied, stroking the elegant head of the scarlet bird with a contemplative expression.
"Why? Doesn't he know it's impossible?"
The brunette smiled sadly. "I am sure somewhere he does. It's who he is, Daemon—a protector, a guide. He won't stand for others to be involved because then they could be hurt."
Arctic eyes flipped upwards to her beautiful face. "And you know all this..."
"Because I'm his friend; because of these eyes." The Slytherin admitted, keeping the movement of her hand even and comforting across his feathered neck. A comfortable silence passed; filled only with the faint calls of a bird and the toll of the wind through the windows. Winter was already passing, it would seem.
"I'm going to help him, Daemon." She sounded determined, and it surprised her more than him. Confidence was something a harlot wasn't used to. When had that happened?
The phoenix let out a small, musical sigh. "I know. I am too."
Magnatine blinked. "Why?"
He shifted his graceful form, a flush of red in her lap. "Because Blair is going to fight for him, and I've always been by her side."
The girl didn't reply immediately, processing this bit of declaration. "She really loves him, doesn't she?"
"She thinks they are true blood family."
"And you really love her."
"... She's hard-headed and rash, but she is hurt and loving too. She's all I have left of my brother, and in our own way; I suppose we love."
Celia smiled regretfully. "Blair is an amazing woman."
The translucent boy seemed to understand the words. "So are you."
§
Day 11:
When Harry found Lupin's room empty; he felt truly alone. Granted, he didn't want the man involved in this fight either; but at least his advice would have been nice. Yet the dark, musky state of the classroom was enough to tell him that it had not been occupied for at least a few days. And he had been so busy with Blair that he hadn't even said goodbye to the last Marauder...
Suddenly, he felt very much like a child in a world too big for him. What the hell was he doing, sixteen and facing the greatest Dark Lord to ever have lived? God, he still had issues with a Sleeping Draft Potion! Why had he been so sure, so damn set on doing this? Could he even do this?
Doubt grew as he trod down the hallway. However, his wandering eyes spotted a spit of light, and curious; his feet turned toward it. The gold-engraved doors of the classroom were familiar. Inside, the fire-light glow and walls painted with phoenix, floors of red and gold—all of it was strangely comforting. Even more so, was the young woman sitting behind the largest; yellow-wood table with a strange text in front of her and eyes narrowed in concentration. Her finger played with a curly lock of cardinal hair as she read.
His sister. It sounded so strange, and yet...
"What's bothering you, kid?" He found himself fixated by bird-like irises.
...so easy and sound; as if it always was.
"Spit it out, I don't have ESP."
The boy blinked, unable to wipe a sentimental smile from his face. "I'm just... I just was trying to figure out the best time to... attack."
Professor Kryeen looked back down at the volume; but continued the conversation. "Daylight, of course. Those beasts have the advantage during the dark. Plus, my powers work better under the Sun."
He stared.
She glanced up again. "What? Think I'd let you go out and get yourself killed with some act of idiocy?"
The seeker shuffled his feet. "Well..."
"Tch," The tri-color haired woman tossed the locks behind her neck. "Not after all the work I've done to save your ass."
Potter didn't reply immediately. After a short mental debate, he took the final feet between them and rolled up his robe to expose his left forearm. "Do you see that?"
Faintly annoyed, the immortal turned her attention to the protruding limb. There was a pale, pink line faintly drawn on the tanned skin.
"I did that myself, during the summer. I promised that I would protect everyone I cared about. That means that I have to fight Voldemort, and I have to do it alone."
The lines on her brow deepened and red lips thinned.
"I know I haven't been doing a very good job but—"
"Harry," Aduru began, capturing his emerald gaze. "Do you know who helped Lupin live again, who gave him the will to live?"
"You turned him hu—"
"No," Again, the witch cut him off crossly. "I only undid some beautiful magic. But it was you who helped him over his grief and reintroduced him to society as your teacher. And Ron and Hermione, how would they have met without you? Ginny Weasley—she'd be a corpse in the Death Eater's hands without your intervention.
"You bailed us out." The dark-haired teen pointed out.
"Only after she was already safe." The flavored witch reminded him. "And I would have killed that old shit tonight if you hadn't showed up."
"Dumbledore—"
The Death Dealer held her hand up. "Never mind that. The fact is Harry, that you've done more for people then you even realize. Celia just came to me and asked to help. That girl wouldn't have fought for her own soul a few months ago. Your heroics—stupid and irritating as they are, have a strange ability to help people. And while that entire vow is silly shit—which it really is, mind you—you have fulfilled it."
Harry sucked in his breath, unable to reply as the DADA teacher continued her rant.
"But boy, it's time you remember that you are only human. More than that, you're sixteen years old. You have a right to live and yes, screw around." Her molten eyes were hard. "And I've got nothing better to do then help you. Your friends, useless as they may be, will help you too. This can't be done alone... Why the hell are you smiling?"
And despite her protest, the wizard couldn't wipe the grin off his face. "Thanks, Blair."
§
Day 12:
Ron was first reminded of the DA days, when their little group practiced in secret against the threat of the dark army. It was a lot like that, he realized. A little less secretive, a little more desperate; and including one more dangerous sprite helping lead it. His brown gaze swept the room. It was more exclusive though—maybe twenty or so students and all he knew by name.
"Professor Blair screened everybody Harry requested." His girl... friend, murmured in his ear. "Only the applicants that past were allowed to join.
He frowned, lining his brow. "Why weren't we screened?"
The clever girl shot him a look. "We were, remember that little test in the beginning of the year?"
The red-head only deepened his look. "No one managed to beat her."
"For Heaven's sakes Ron; she's an immortal. We weren't supposed to defeat her!"
"Hmph," The youngest Weasley son crossed his arms for a contemplative moment. "At least that idiot is finally letting us help."
As if hearing his name; his best mate sent an apologetic smile from across the room.
"Took him long enough, stupid." Granger commented fondly.
"Shut it, she's talking!" Ron hissed back as Blair began her speech—her brother at her side.
"Alright, kids, shut the hell up and listen. Voldemort—no flinching, that's pathetic—has deployed a section of his army to attack this school. No, don't gasp; shut the fuck up! Thank you. Now, it is composed mainly of non-human creatures. These include vampires, werewolves, and a few lesser ghouls such as banshees and stuff. Now if anyone is too chicken to continue, go back to your dormitories and wait to be eaten, mutilated, or whatever the limited capacity of creative torture the Dark Army has."
No one left and Harry shot her a reproachful look, which; she in turn ignored.
"Right then; Potter here has told me that you all are used to facing Voldemort's—I said NO FLINCHING—forces. I have personally screened all of you; and every one of you has the potential to survive for than five minutes out there."
"Blair," Daemon, in phoenix form, reprimanded sharply in his high voice.
"Anyways, we have gathered you here tonight to compose a small patrol that should defend the castle. Questions before I continue? Oh, and no; that old sk—"
"Blair..." It was Harry this time who called her down.
She cleared her throat. "Your Headmaster, isn't going to help. Neither is the Ministry. No one is coming to aid you, in fact."
There was a hush around the room.
"So, here is where the army is stationed." The teacher waved her hand and a map pulled out from the air, marked with little black dots showing the platoon outside the castle.
"They number one-hundred and fifty in all; not even a fraction of his army but strong because their beasts. Now, for the attack plan..."
"Hey, Ron;" Hermione whispered next to him.
He didn't look down to her. "Yeah?"
"You think we'll live through this?" Her eyes were wide and frightened.
"You better, because I'm making sure I am."
She smiled, leaning against his slightly. "I'm glad though... that we can finally help."
And despite himself, Weasley grinned a little too. "Yeah."
§
Day 13
Celia blinked in mild surprise at the other girl, already waiting inside the golden classroom. "Professor Blair called you here too?"
She turned around at the noise, orange locks swinging with the movement. Her face was pretty, pale, and familiar. "Yes, I know you, don't I?"
"Ginny Weasley," The Slytherin nodded cordially. "I'm Celia Magnatine."
"Oh right," The 5th year nodded, putting on a happy face. "You're a friend of Harry's aren't you?"
The brunette shook her head. "And you are too, if I recall."
Her expressive face fell a little. "Something like that..."
Before an awkward silence could fall in the lull of conversation; a slender figure appeared from behind a wooden door.
"Ah, you two. Perfect timing." Kryeen filed down the stairs and sat down on the nearest desk. Used to her manners, the students followed suit and each picked a chair.
The woman smirked. "Now, I have some business to talk with each of you. It involves to boys I think you both know fairly well—Potter and Daemon."
Both girls nodded.
"Well, you see; as their sister-figure I'm supposed to know shit about them that they don't say. And the reason I've summoned you both is because each of those brats has fallen in love with each of you."
"What?!" Ginny exclaimed before she could bite her tongue.
Celia was only slightly more reserved. "Professor Blair what are you saying, if you please?"
"Oh Celia, stop with the pleasantries. I'm not going to bite." The DADA professor snapped. "Anyways, yes. Harry is in love with Ginny but refuses to admit it because of some heroic-sappy, whatever. Daemon is in love with Celia but won't say so because he's a vain little curd. But that is beside the point."
The witch continued as if she hadn't just told the teenagers that they were loved, and indeed, why they had not been told why they were loved.
"You see, I have an annoying bond to both of these idiots—I seem to collect them. It is an attachment, if you will. And the blight of my existence. Anyways, these horrible bonds demand that I do something and it involves the two of you."
It would seem that Ginny was finally recovering from shock; and almost had her tongue working again. "What the hell are you saying?"
The eldest female's demeanor changed in an instant; just as the shadow flew across her visage. "If something happens to me, it is obvious that I won't be able to watch Harry or Daemon anymore. And due to the fact that they are in love with you, I have chosen you to watch after them. Both kids are powerful in their own right; but they're stubborn and noble and have a bad habit of putting the ones that they care about first. They'll need someone beside them to look out for them, and remind them of their limits. You need to do that; because I won't be able to anymore."
"Professor, what are you saying?" The seer whispered in alarm, searching her smirking, shadowed face. "What's going to happen to y—"
"Not important." Blair snapped. "I just need both of you to remember what I said. I'm not going to make you promise or any shit like that; but I know you'll do this for me." She stood as if to leave.
"Wait, Blair; what's going on?" The Weasley daughter demanded as she stood as well.
"I've said my piece," The immortal snarled. "Now out, both of you."
"But—"
The door slammed shut behind the two girls, who quickly retreated to their separate rooms.
"I wasn't aware you were that caring." The airy, soft voice came from the shadows.
Aduru Eposis turned to face her fellow immortal.
"I don't give a damn what you think, Astor. Are the preparations set?"
His pale, handsome face nodded. "Blair... what do you intend to do about the war? Can you really end both?"
She smiled, bitterly. "Ah, it's a bit ironic though."
He stood, as patient as always.
"Ending it after I finally found something to live for."
The wind immortal frowned. "Are you willing to die for them—the boy and the bird?"
The woman once known as Ally closed her eyes. "That's the easiest thing in the world, for me to give."
Astor turned, alighting himself once more on feathery wings. "Perhaps you and the boy are not so different after all."
§
A/N: Dundundun—the final day coming up!