Chapter 19 - Peek's Nightmare

"Dream big or don't dream at all, as if there is a choice."

~Peek

Warning to very young readers - This final chapter is Peek's involvement in the Battle for Hogwarts, which includes some battle violence and death.

Peek had spent most of his young life avoiding sleep - taking potions nightly, to stave off the need. His problem was that he could cast simple spells in his sleep, in response to dreams. Nightmares, in particular, could be deadly, not just for him, but others around him - he burned down a vacant building as a toddler. He and his family had taken shelter there, from the cold. They escaped with their lives but lost the few possessions they had.

Professor Snape crafted a potion that changed the way Peek dreamed. Under the potion's effects, Peek's dreams played out like a movie to a second layer of Peek's awareness, so he dreamed of himself dreaming. This double-layer prevented magic from binding to the spoken word, whether made out loud or in a dream, effectively nullifying magic before it could develop. It was a genius-made potion that only the likes of Snape could have concocted. But, it was too little and too late.

The research and experimentation took more than a year and the potion was not ready before Peek's arrival at Hogwarts. Instead, its completion was a parting gift to the young wizard because Peek had been expelled from the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Peek was on the Hogwarts Express, steaming through the very early hours of the morning, and bound for London. He was new to dreaming and when sleep tugged at the corners of his eyes, finally, he welcomed the needful slumber and the opportunity to dream.

"What are you doing here!" shouted Peek.

Peek stood on a low grassy hill-rise with the lake to his left, the woods to his right, and Hogwarts behind him. Hogwarts was preparing for battle and the land-features created a channel from where an assault by Voldemort, or part of it, would likely begin.

Peek was tall and strong and stood rigid like an oak tree while surveying the approach. He had shoulder-length, wavy, dark brown hair and the beginnings of a beard on his war-hardened but young face. His faded jeans were torn and tattered. His faded shirt was a green button-up with sleeves rolled to the elbows. Both items were soiled with the stains of blood. He had scars, many. He had fresh wounds too, with some being less than a day old.

Peek did not return to Hogwarts to continue his education. Funds from the Donlevy cauldron sale were used to create the "Byron Millwater Center for Witchcraft and Wizardry", a tutoring venue for young witches and wizards who remained Ministry-barred from attending Hogwarts. The center was deep in the heart of London and Peek, "Potioner's Apprentice", taught students, young and old. The non-magical students, "Squibs" to others, attended as well. These were the secret keepers; children who would likely integrate with the muggles and keep the wizarding world hidden from the muggle world. These children were taught muggle subjects to fit in at muggle schools or learned skills for gainful employment in the wizarding world, should they choose. They had options.

Professor Dumbledor and others like him rallied behind the center and visited on many occasions. Other professors from Hogwarts, such as McGonagall and Sprout, and ministry employees like Arthur Weasley helped develop a diverse curriculum that served all of the children.

When Voldemort returned, Peek turned his energies on training himself and others for war. Voldemort did not find a welcome mat in London, as he had in the past. His minions did not garner a small army of squibs and near-mages with promises of food and better social status.

When Peek returned to Hogwarts, it was with forty-five able souls - all of them veterans of death-eater clashes and countless battles with other Voldemort followers. Many could not cast spells beyond typical use but all of them learned to close with their enemies in the streets and alleyways of London, and found a knife-thrust to be as lethal as any wand. The shadow war, unknown to the muggles, expanded all over Britain but the London back-streets never fell to Voldemort and his puppet machinations.

Here at Hogwarts, however, on the open slopes leading up to the castle, there was no cover, no protection from errant spells, nevermind the well-aimed. The Londoners turned to building construction works - walls and fortifications and fighting holes or "fox-holes" like the muggle armies dug when defending against attack. Death-Eaters and those who joined them might stroll up to the castle, arm-in-arm, dancing and laughing if they pleased, but they would find death when they drew near

"Peek! Look at you!" cried Ivy. "By Merlin's left little pinky, you're a grown man now!" Ivy grabbed Peek by his hands and circled with him in place, as two children might do in play.

Ivy was a tall witch with long flowing red hair. She was strong, like a dedicated runner or gymnast. She wore the skirt and blouse of a serving maid from an ancient house, both were tidy and pressed but of old tradition and long since out of fashion. Hogwarts was readying for siege and there was no one person who looked more out of place than Ivy Taggart; Hogwarts graduate and former Ravenclaw.

Ivy remembered when the young man before her was a small, little, first-year who had been restricted in growth by the illegal potions he had been taking to avoid sleep. Those issues well behind him, his body caught up to where it should have been. The young man was now tall and strong and handsome.

"Ivy, stop it," hissed Peek as he swatted her hands away. "Goodness, woman. We're at war."

Ivy laughed. "And you, a leader of wizards and witches." She turned towards the young men and women building the defenses. She pumped her fist in the air and shouted, "Warriors, all of you!"

The Londoners gave a roaring cheer in return. These rough and tumble men and women of the streets were sporting for battle and their enthusiasm overbrimmed at the slightest provocation.

Peek caught hold of Ivy's shoulder and turned her back around. "Why are you here? I sent you an owl - many owls. I told you to stay away. I told you I dreamt all of this."

"I remember," said Ivy. "You told me I would die here. You dreamed of it on your train ride back to London. It was a prophecy. I've never forgotten." She paused to greet two men, one young and one older, as they carried a large wooden beam past. Their features were gaunt and their faces were grim but they warmed at her servant-girl attire and her infectious smile.

"Ma'am," said the first as he nodded.

"Ma'am," said the second. He touched his forehead in a light salute.

Ivy gave a short, old-world curtsy, in homage to the outfit she wore, which pulled smiles from the haggard faces.

"Ma'am?" said Ivy when the men had moved away. "I'm only twenty-two years old." She laughed again. "That first fellow is older than me by at least five years." Ivy looked back at the two. "He's a good looker - a bit thin but I know how to cook…a little."

"Ivy," said Peek as he snapped his fingers in front of her face. "You gotta go."

Ivy's smile faded. "Look, Peek. I'm a muggle-born."

"I know you're muggle-born," said Peek.

"They caught me and they gave me to a pure-blood house - the Dethnals. Do you know them?"

Peek shook his head. "Their name sounds familiar. It sounds like 'Death-Knell' - like a bell tolling death."

"All their names sound like they have dark meanings; Malfoy, Mulcifer, Darken, Crucibell, Gorelist, McCahberr. I could name dozens."

"Snape," added Peek.

"Yeah, him too. I'm sorry Peek. I know you admired him - for potions anyway."

Peek nodded.

Anyway, 'Master' Dethnal is an animal. I spent the last six months with, 'Yes, Master Dethnal', 'No, Master Dethnal', 'Keep your filthy hands off me, Master Dethnal'." Ivy spat on the ground. "I'm not going back. I'll die here, Peek. I'm okay with that."

"But Ivy, I'm not-"

"Oh and if Mr. High and Mighty, Pure-blood, Dethnal just happens to show up here," interrupted Ivy, "I'll kill him first, then I can die here. I'm really okay with that."

"Ivy-" Peek began.

"Do you remember? I can cast a little magic without a wand, just like you.

"Ummm, I can't so much anymore," replied Peek. "It went away as I got older."

"Well I still can, and I really had fun with it." Ivy gave a mocking look of concern and changed her voice to a sweet and innocent tone, "Oh Master Dethnal, I really have no idea how you got hit in the head with a granite bookend. Maybe it just fell off the bookshelf by itself - oh, and, I don't think you'll need your wand, while you recover."

"Ivy, I know you don't-" Peek began, but his comment was left unfinished. The first of the Voldemort's army arrived and were melted by the perimeter spells surrounding the castle.

A moment later -

"I know that you are preparing to fight…" echoed in Peeks and Ivy's ears. It was Voldemort.

"Who the hell is that!" growled Peek as he clapped his hands over his ears.

"I think it's him," said Ivy with a cringe. "I think it's Voldemort."

"How is he doing this?" Peek rubbed his forehead and his temples. "It's like he's speaking from everywhere...and nowhere."

"Hang on," said Ivy with squinting eyes as if reeling from a headache. She waved her wand and called out "Pesoe-aFausio-d'Obligiate"

Ivy finished the spell with a slow swish of her wand.

"Your efforts are futile. You cannot…," the voice continued and then was silenced.

Peek breathed out a heavy breath. "It worked," he said as he shook his head. "That's a handy spell."

"It is. Fishmongers in Bristol can get in your head the same way. It's some 'secret' spell only they know - it blocks them."

Peek shook his head again. "You were in Bristol - What? Buying fish for dear Mr. Death-knell?"

"No, it was before him, hiding by the docks and trying to get away. Maybe to the States, but really, anywhere."

Peek nodded.

"There were a lot of us that ended up there, trying to escape. That's where I was caught. We were easy pickings for the death-eaters or whoever they were, I think all of us together in one place was a bad idea."

Peek looked back to the Londoners. He could see by their expressions that they were still listening to Voldemort.

"Keep working!" Peek shouted. "Don't listen to the crap in your head. Focus on getting us ready. Focus on the defenses."

Peek turned back to Ivy. "There's no getting you out now. They will have ringed us in or will soon enough."

Ivy gave a scoffing laugh. "There was no getting me out before this." She tapped Peek on the chest with Master Dethnal's wand. "Not if I didn't want to go."

Peek and Ivy walked the short distance back up to the castle, where the Londoners built ground-level battlements to hide behind and to spring from when the attackers closed in. Those who could cast spells were posted at the ready, intending to cover the field with hexes, curses, wounding, and killing spells. Those who could not cast, or could not cast well, waited undercover, ready to assist the spellcasters, but they also waited with knives, clubs, and axes, for the hand-to-hand battle that would likely follow.

"He wants Harry Potter!" shouted one of the Londoners. He was a young hot-head wearing a thick jacket and heavy layers of cloth across his chest from shoulder to waist, like a highland-man. He was also wrapped in aluminum foil over much of his body, as others were, believing it helped deflect spells. "Send me to him, Boss-man, and I'll shove this knife up his - "

"Slow down, Ed," shouted Peek with a laugh. "Save it for the battle."

"I got plenty to spare, Boss-man," Ed shouted back. "Plenty."

"Boss-man," repeated Ivy with another smile. "It fits you."

Peek shrugged and then pushed and pulled on a large piece of plate steel to test its strength. It was half-buried to stand on end, along with a dozen others, to create a barricade.

"Fortifico Rigales," said Peek as he waved his wand. The large steel plates glowed for a moment, they stretched out to one another, and their edges welded together.

"I see you have your own handy spells," said Ivy but with a note of concern. She lowered her voice. "It's muggle-made, right? This metal? All of this?"

"Much of it is," said Peek."Yes."

"Peek, anyone can brush them aside like cobwebs."

Most muggle-made items could be unmade or manipulated with common spells. Ivy proved this, years earlier when she pulled down a fire-escape from the side of a building without using a wand. Construction works made with muggle materials, like the barricade, would have to be bolstered with fortifying spells, many of which the Londoners knew so well they could cast them blindfolded.

"They'll hold," Peek added.

"I see you're still packing that walnut-thirteen," said Ivy as she pointed to the battle-worn wand in Peek's hand. "It's like an ogre club, you know, like the kind they hit with, not the nightclub kind they gather in."

Peek rumpled his face. "Gather? Ogres?"

"You know, like a gathering? A group? A Glee Club, except for ogres?" Ivy sighed. "Nevermind, I'm just noting that you still have it. Others like me, for example, had ours taken from us."

Peek had purchased the long, oversized wand from Olivander before his first year at Hogwarts. It was confiscated after his fight with Katie Bell but he found it in his bag when he arrived back in London. It was rigid and unyielding and suited Peek well.

Peek nodded. "Yeah, well, I still have it. I like it. It likes me."

Ivy nodded. "I put it back in your bag. Did you know that?"

Peek shook his head. "I thought McGonagall did."

"No, it was on Dumbledor's desk, right in plain sight when you were expelled. Remember? All the heads of houses were there? I swiped it when they were focused on you. In truth, I think Dumblefor saw me. He didn't miss anything - except you not coming back to Hogwarts, I suppose."

"Yeah," Peek agreed. "He and I spoke on that, later. I found my place down in London. They needed me."

"Parker Ferris?" A winded voice called from behind him and Ivy. A young man had run up from around the front side of the castle. He had his wand out but held it with a shaking hand. He wore a shirt with the Hufflepuff colors and a small embroidered badger on the left side of his chest.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt sent me," said the young man. "He needs ten of your men and women to support the south bastion."

Peek had met Shacklebolt several times before. Shacklebolt had come to London to organize resistance against the ministry after the fall of the previous Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour. Peek was one of several leaders Shacklebolt was pleased to find already in place, organized and opposing Voldemort's expansion. Shacklebolt was a powerful Auror who Peek was more than willing to follow.

"Ten?" said Peek. "I had hoped to keep us together, to fight as a team."

"We have to defend all approaches," said the Hufflepuff with a nervous voice. "If one falls, we all fall. Mr. Shacklebolt said this in case you said 'no'."

Peek nodded and let out a heavy breath. Shacklebolt was not wrong. Any good defense rested on holding a perimeter around a central core and keeping the enemy out of it. Losing the core exposed the perimeter defenders to attack from behind. Losing the core meant losing the battle.

"Okay, but not all my spell-casters," said Peek. He looked into the dark night, down the slope, where more than sixty of Voldemort's witches and wizards had gathered under lit torches. "You'll be glad to have the meat grinders against a rush or to shore up a breach."

"Meat grinders? What are Meat grinders?," said the Hufflepuff as he gave a shake of his head. A spattering of confusion mixed in with the fear that was already showing on his face.

Peek smiled. "What's your name, Hufflepuff?"

The young man looked around as if the answer to why his name was needed, might lay in the faces looking his way. "My name is Michael."

Peek smiled again. "Okay Michael, go back and tell Mr. Shacklebolt I will send a mix of fighters; half heroes and half grinders. He'll know what it means."

Michael was off like a shot and glad to be done with the imposing Londoner and his gang of street thugs. Also, he felt more vulnerable outside the castle and in full view of the enemy on the slopes below.

"Aaron!" called Peek to a Londoner further down. "Take five and five. Report to Kingsley Shacklebolt, in the great hall. If he's not there, head to the south bastion."

Aaron stepped up to Peek and Ivy. "Right, Shacklebolt. I remember him - he's a big guy with a deep voice. I'll take Monica and Bugsy for starters, if that's okay."

"Sure, but listen, Aaron. We're not fodder for this battle. We're not a human wall to die in the first charge. Don't let these 'proper' witches and wizards put you upfront unless you're standing shoulder to shoulder with them. Understand?"

"Not a problem, Boss-man."

"Alright, get outta here," said Peek with a confident smile. "We'll see you when this is done."

"Cheers," said Aaron with a nod. "Ma'am," said Aaron with another nod to Ivy.

"There we go with the 'ma'am' again," said Ivy as she watched Aaron speed off. "I'm only twenty-two!" she shouted after him, but he was busy pulling his ten people.

"I don't suppose I could get you into the castle?" said Peek. "Maybe to the infirmary? There will be plenty of work there."

"I like it here," said Ivy.

Peek scoffed. "But, look at you, you look like a hand-maiden from an old picture-book. Did Dethnal make you wear these clothes?"

Ivy laughed. "He did - he was odd that way. Creepy."

"Would it change anything to tell you I remember you dying in clothes like these, in my dream? If I remember right, you'll be dead in less than thirty minutes."

"Only thirty?" said Ivy. "Wow…a lifetime, being right here." Ivy dipped her voice lower, into a mock-threatening tone. "Without anybody moving me." Ivy then softened her voice. "Look, Peek, I have no life as a muggle-born in this country and I can't escape - I'd swim the damn channel if I could, but I can't swim, and I won't go back to Dethnal. I'm sure he was working up some justification for having a go at me, mud blood and all. I won't let that happen, Peek. Never."

Peek smiled. He had confrontations with purebloods before. They were always so surprised when defeated by someone of lesser blood, someone like him.

"Okay," said Ivy with a change of tone. "Tell me, Boss-man. What do we do next, if you remember this dream so well?"

"Well, we get up and walk the barricade looking for weaknesses and encouraging all these people."

"Fine," said Ivy. She looked down the slope at the gathering Voldemort followers just as a dozen more arrived.

"Peek," continued Ivy, "in your dream, do you remember if I kill Dethnal? Is he here?"

Peek shook his head. "I don't really know him. I don't think so."

Ivy nodded her understanding.

Ten minutes later, the tower clock struck midnight and the battle for Hogwarts began.

"Look!" called Peek as loud explosions thundered back towards the front gates. The brilliant flashes illuminated Voldemort and many of his people in the far distance.

Within minutes the magic barriers around the castle grounds failed. Peek, and Ivy, and their small band of Londoners watched as more than eighty of Voldemort's followers began the charge towards them, up the slopes.

"So many of them," breathed Ivy, "and they know there are children behind these walls."

"There are children in front of the walls, too," said Peek as he glanced to either side. Many of the Londoners were his age or younger.

Ivy nodded.

"Give 'em hell!" shouted Peek when the nearest of their attackers were within spellcasting range.

The Londoners were warriors who survived countless skirmishes and battles. They were tempered like hardened steel. Their sharp-shooters laid down a withering hail of legs-b-gone, skel-e-vap, brittle-skin, and mind-wipe curses. Harven Dullberry, a scrapper from Cambridge, was a master of the Unforgiveable Curses, all of them. There was no mistaking the death-green bursts of light that jetted out from his position. There was no missing when firing into the charging wall of Voldemort's minions and Harven could account for more than fifteen of the fallen before the attackers had crossed midway, up to the castle.

The attack stalled. The Londoners held the high ground for more than an hour while their attackers lay pinned down before them, hiding where they could, or hugging the ground as they dragged themselves forward on their bellies.

"Do not relent! Do not show mercy!" shouted Peek. "We have the advantage now but we will lose it if they reach us!"

Voldemort's followers suffered scores of casualties and the long angled climb up to the castle robbed the strength from all but the hardiest. Still, they had greater numbers by far, and the persistence born on fear of their master, Voldemort. They inflicted their own damage on the defenders and when they, at last, pushed their way up to the level ground before the constructed barriers, only three of the London spellcasters remained, along with Peek and Ivy.

With a roar, the twenty Londoners who were hidden behind the barricade sprung out with their axes, knives, and clubs like a medieval ambush. They were called "Meat-Grinders" for obvious reasons as they waded into the battle, swinging their weapons, and exacted their toll. The smell of death laced the light breeze and the ground ran slick with blood.

Voldemort lay siege to Hogwart's from multiple directions and this assault force from the lake stumbled but did not fail. With many of the castle defenses down, dark wizards and witches apparated into the Londoner's midsts and they swooped down on brooms with renewed fury. To make matters worse, huge spiders, the spawn of Aragog, swarmed up on the right, from the forest, and were climbing across the wall behind. Mere seconds remained before the Londoners were cut off from any help, surrounded, and overwhelmed.

"There's too many!" shouted Peek to Ivy and then to the others, "Londoners! Fall back to the left - towards the castle front! Fall back!"

Peek battled three wizards while Ivy defended against two from behind him. None of the wizards were death eaters. They were out of breath after the long climb and it was clear they were frightened, but there was a madness in their eyes, a palpable fear, as if failure was far worse than death. They charged with their wands ablaze, as Peek and Ivy strove to shield against them and drive them back while the others escaped.

Without warning, and from where Peek could not say, he was struck by a wizard's whip spell that wrapped around his legs and pulled them out from under him. He went down with a crash and was dragged five feet, into the steel plates of the barricade. At the same moment, Ivy was struck with a Wizard Whallop spell. She flew ten feet and landed on top of Peek. Ivy was agile, like a cat, and immediately came up on all fours, over Peek. She raised her wand and blocked spells from all sides, while Peek unraveled the whip spell.

"Hurry," said Ivy in a fit of controlled panic. Wizards and Witches were closing in from all sides. "I can't stop them for long."

"Almost," replied Peek as the eldritch straps uncoiled, but then, Ivy shuddered. Her wand arm fell limp as her wand rolled out from her fingers. The other arm supporting her weight began to tremble as her eyes found Peek's.

"I got longer than thirty minutes, Peek," she said with a weak laugh. "You told me I only had thirty minutes." The corners of Ivy's mouth curled up into a smile.

"Ivy, I-" began Peek but the statement faltered on his lips.

Ivy shuddered again, and again, and again as a wizard, behind her, opened up her back with Meat-Cleaver Maxima spells.

"Peek...," said Ivy with difficulty, "I'm okay with this. No regrets."

"Ivy, don't go…" said Peek.

The Wizard Whip spell ended with a small puff of smoke. Ivy saw it as did Peek.

"Go get them, Tiger," said Ivy as she gave a final smile, died, and fell onto Peek.

When she was dragged off of Peek, bodily, by her arm and a fistful of her long hair, Peek came up with his walnut wand and Ivy's wand, the one she had taken from her former master.

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Peek at the wizard who had gored Ivy's back open with his cruel spells. The man before him was a dark wizard and a death eater, not one of the mind-addled supporters or one who had been threatened into service. It was he who had caught Peek with the Wizard Whip spell.

"Avada Kedavra!" Shouted the death eater at Peek, in the same moment.

Two flashes of green light lit the castle wall and the sloping field before it.

"My apologies, sir," said the house-elf, aboard the Hogwarts Express, steaming for London.

Peeks's eyes sprung wide as he roused himself from the nightmare.

"We will be arriving soon," continued the elf. "You will have only eight minutes to disembark."

Peek nodded groggily. "I'll be ready."

"Of course, sir," said the elf as he bowed low and exited back towards the train engine.

Peek paused in thought. "Ivy…," he said as he remembered her smile and her laugh and her death. "That was so real."

Peek watched the expanse of London as the Express drew near it. He sat in contemplation over the nightmare.

"If I have another dream like that - or I guess I had my first nightmare - I'll go back on the old goblin potion and stay up at night instead. I don't ever want to ever see that again."

Peek had many dreams in fact; of the coming of Voldemort, of attacks on muggles, of Dumbledore's death, the ousting of a minister and the death of his successor.

Dumbledor and he met on many occasions to discuss his dreams and nightmares and it was the headmaster's keen interest that convinced Peek they were premonitions - not just dreams and nightmares. Peek turned down Hogwarts' invitation to return that fall. In the intervening years, he would build a small army to face Voldemort and his followers, and he would devise a way to make Ivy listen to him. Of all the tasks he took to himself, saving Ivy Taggart, might prove to be both the toughest and the most desperately needed. She was, and would remain, his only true friend.

"So," said Peek to himself. "How do I find, and end, 'Master Dethnal'?"

This is where the story of Peek ends. He often dreamed of his role in the battle of Hogwarts but found no way to change it or avoid it. The death eater, in those final moments, missed Peek with his killing curse. Peek did not miss. The death eater crumpled where he stood and was dead before his head struck the ground. Peek had used both wands, something he learned to do at a young age, and was knocked unconscious from the doubled release of energy. He was thought to be dead and was left undisturbed by Voldemort's people as they continued their castle siege. He awoke hours later when Voldemort halted the battle and recalled his forces back from Hogwarts.

Peek carried I'vy's body back to the great hall. When he stumbled, Katie Bell helped him cross the remaining distance and place Ivy with the other fallen. Peek and Katie had fought during Peek's stay at Hogwarts after which, Peek had been expelled. She did not recognize Peek. When she last saw him, he was a tiny first-year disapparating away on Professor McGonagall's arm.

The large Acromantulae, children of Aragog, carried off many of the human dead and wounded when they returned to the forbidden forest. Peek and the remaining Londoners were chasing them down when Harry Potter had his final dual with Voldemort.

Years later, Peek met Potter by chance, in Diagon Ally. It pleased him to know that Harry Potter, the Hero, remembered Ivy Taggart.

Years later, still, Peek tracked down Giles Dethnal, Ivy's former "Master" and the reason she stayed at Hogwarts despite her imminent death. He killed Dethnal outside a Liverpool pub in front of Dethnal's wife. She was indifferent on the matter and stated that he would not be missed.

Peek continued to have dreams and the occasional nightmare when he slept, but they no longer foretold events of the future unless by random chance.

The End.