21-Battle?
Monday morning was quite dreary. The sky was overcast with some light rains, the temperature was as usual for the season and the location – freezing cold. Remus had passed the night quite safely. He even got Wolfsbane to ease it, although it was a mystery to him who had prepared it.
The weather had very little impact on the castle protectors, though. They all ate an early breakfast, finished their last-minute preparations and were ready at their personal positions way before the expected arrival of the enemy.
Harry was glad that his Heir position allowed him to sense and control the wards from anywhere in the castle, on the castle grounds or even, as he had found the previous night, from quite a long distance away, although not quite as well, mainly due to time delay. Still, this allowed him to move from position to position, raise the spirits and make sure everything was ready. He was carrying his rifle with him, just to be able to use it wherever he would happen to be.
\/\/\/
The Dark Lord's forces also woke up early but got no breakfast. Their master required their presence in the ballroom, what everybody else called the throne room.
Once they were all assembled, he walked in and sat on his elevated throne. Those who stood near enough could notice that he was surrounded by some kind of shield. Nobody commented, of course.
Voldemort started a long and convoluted speech. Only a few were even able to listen to the whole tirade and even fewer understood what was said. They then returned to reality when he shouted, "Now go and secure Hogwarts so we can give Potter a surprise when he comes tomorrow for a duel."
Luckily, the ones tasked with leading the various forces had their own briefing a short while earlier, so they knew what was expected of them. Many had uneasy feelings, but all they could do was follow their orders. The alternative was unthinkable.
\/\/\/
The protectors first spotted the trolls and the werewolves, who were coming through the Forbidden Forest. The two groups were close but didn't mingle. A short distance behind them, three Death Eaters were directing the two groups. The spotters informed Harry using an enchanted mirror, one of many prepared by Remus during the few days of waiting.
Harry wasn't surprised by that, yet it presented a bit of a problem. Only the Death Eaters could communicate back and alert others in case of problems. They had to be eliminated first, despite staying way back. Using house-elf transportation, both he and Hermione came to the forward position. While the two groups were out of range for spellfire, they were well within the range of the muggle weapons, except for the handguns.
The Potters made themselves comfortable on that tower and chose targets. Two shots made the troll drivers fall. Before the others could understand what happened, two more shots found their targets. The area was cleared for shooting.
An anti-tank missile can penetrate a few inches of steel. The trolls' hides posed no obstacle for them. Still, Harry wanted only one to be shot first. Its target disintegrated, turning into a rain of minced flesh and blood. The other trolls, although considered stupid, were smart enough to understand that they couldn't survive the battle. Almost as one, they turned back and started running, amazing the watchers by their speed. Within seconds, no troll could be seen.
The werewolves were also apprehensive when seeing that. They turned to the Death Eater who was supposed to instruct them, only to find him dead. That made them uneasy, but unlike the trolls, they thought they still had a chance. Then they heard some noises as multiple bullets started raining horizontally on them. These bullets had been magically coated with a very thin layer of silver. It didn't change any of their other characteristics but made them much more lethal to werewolves. While normally very resistant to injury and almost impossible to kill by muggle weapons, the werewolves can't resist silver in any amount. Even a small scratch, if caused by something containing silver, could kill them. The machine gun didn't leave any unscathed. Some fell immediately. Others managed to turn and start running away, but none made it.
The house-elves rushed to the kill zone and vanished any remains of the bullets or the missile. It was already too late to save those who were injured by the silver-coated bullets, even if they wanted to.
\/\/\/
The group that approached the gates didn't expect any opposition. The leader wasn't sure about the state of the wards, though. He sent two men forward, walking a few paces behind them. The location of the Hogwarts wards was well documented, so that he knew where to expect them. He even felt a slight change of magic when he passed them with no ill effect. He stopped the two in his front and called the others to follow, before going forward. They walked a bit more before the two in the front seemed unable to advance, as if reaching a transparent wall.
The leader frowned. There was supposed to be only one layer of wards. Well, there was nothing to it. He had seven ward breakers. They had to be led at wand point, but they knew what was good for them. He called them to examine the wards and find a way to pass through. They took out their wands and started casting. They stopped after a short while and discussed what they found. Then one lost his wand. Before he could react, another lost his wand too, Within seconds, all seven were wandless, as were their guards.
The leader came to check what the commotion was and his wand was also snatched from his hand and disappeared. Was that the effect of the wards or something else? He was unable to decide. Then, whoever came within a few feet of the invisible wards seemed to lose their wands. He ordered the group back two feet to not lose any more wands. Luckily, they all had spares. He ordered the ward breakers to keep their distance while working on the wards.
This seemed to help only for a short while. Some of those at the back started losing wands. When trying to step back, they found they couldn't. In the commotion, nobody paid attention to the ward breakers and they suddenly disappeared.
This was becoming a real problem, but not yet one to justify calling the Dark Lord. Anybody who asked for his help without a really good reason didn't normally stay alive for long. Even a very good reason wasn't guaranteed to save you. He'd do all he could before asking for help.
With no ward breakers and fewer wands than expected, he tried to check the wards without a wand, hiding it in his robes. One couldn't see the wards without mage sight, but these were quite solid, feeling like a carpeted wall. They were soft to the touch but wouldn't budge when pushed. Could they be overloaded? He ordered half his force to keep their distance from the wards and cast their strongest Bombarda together.
There was barely a sign of the spells hitting the ward. They just flew through it as if it wasn't there, yet none of them could move through it, nor approach it holding a wand. He then tried another closer look. He felt like he walked a shorter distance before hitting the ward. Could that be only his imagination?
After a while, it became clear that the wards were moving closer to each other, though very slowly. He tried checking along the wards, trying to find a better place, but was stopped a short while farther, where the two wards combined. He and his group were trapped in a slowly diminishing area, unable to move either forward or backward, or to the sides. Not wishing to lose their wands, they pocketed them all. It wasn't guaranteed to help, but it seemed safer that way.
Their desperate situation was becoming clearer when the wards started pushing them to the middle. He wanted to call the Dark Lord by pressing his wand to his mark, but the wand was snatched out of his hand as soon as he took it out of his robes.
Then, one of his subordinates got panicky. Staying in the middle, he was still far enough from the wards to be able to press the mark with his wand before it disappeared.
\/\/\/
Harry watched from the tower as the incoming group was pushed from front and back. He left them enough sideways movement to make them stay as individual targets, once the wards left them no place to move. It could have been terrifying, just like the scene at the forest front, had he not known these were all ruthless murderers. Some of them he'd even met earlier, either at the DOM or at the resurrection. Not many, thankfully. Most of those had already been eliminated one way or another. He was aware of the leader failing to summon the Dark Lord and of another succeeding. He didn't think he'd have to wait for too long for his foe to arrive.
\/\/\/
Voldemort didn't know why it was taking so long. It should have been almost a walk in the park. The school was empty, as he ordered Snape to assure. Only the Malfoy scion had been allowed to stay, unable to go home, and he was now dead while Snape vanished.
And then, even if there were a few people there, they would have been unable to oppose the troll tribe, the three werewolf packs and the threescore of his Death Eaters, so why was there a delay? He was going to severely punish whoever was responsible.
And then he got a message, but not the expected one. A message sent through the mark was never quite verbal, but what it amounted to was, "We're trapped and desperate. Without your help, we won't make it."
That was unexpected. What to do, then? He could apparate there and try to help any way they needed, of course, although he was reluctant to expose his possible mortality. Then, he could send some help. Maybe. He wasn't quite sure how many of his Death Eaters were still there. In principle, he sent them all, but there were some who needed to stay for various reasons. He could call them… No, that might not be enough. Well… he had the Ministry under his control. He could call all his men from there. He had about forty there, and with the ones at the Riddle house he'll have… no more than fifty, facing a force of unknown strength.
He shrugged. They were all expendable. As long as he stayed alive, he could form a new army. It might take some time but… His time was running out if he was really mortal again. He wasn't sure about the state of his Horcruxes. The one he'd given to Lucius had been destroyed, that he knew. He could only guess about the others, since he had no concrete knowledge about them, only that they were missing. He must assume they were also destroyed, but that was… unthinkable!
Well, going there alone was out of the question. He'd send some help and follow, a few minutes later, to make sure it worked and punish those who failed. That was always the part he liked best.
It took about half an hour to assemble the force. He also took the guards from the concentration camp. They were doing nothing anyway. And still, when he looked at his so-called army, he cringed internally. This group looked much worse than the one he'd sent in the morning, but it would have to do. He had no other options.
Well, not exactly. He could call the Dementors. The only problem was that he couldn't really control them. The one who normally did that was at the moment trapped at Hogwarts. Without control, the Dementors would decimate his forces more than his enemies. He'd better not call them.
\/\/\/
Harry expected the ones inside the wards' pocket to not be aware of their real mode of operation. Indeed, when the reinforcements arrived, they were not warned not to come closer. The newcomers stepped through the outer wards and got trapped between the layers, just like the first group. Many lost their wands before someone told the rest to hide their wands in their pockets.
He slightly tweaked the wards, inspired by the Weasley twins. The wards were now acting as a mild expeliarmus charm, gradually increasing in strength, while also coming closer, although he still kept them at least four feet apart for the length of most of the "pocket".
He also had another enhancement to the wards that he kept especially for Voldemort. The Dark Lord's body was not natural. It was a magical construct, using only a few physical ingredients: bone of the father, flesh of the servant and blood of the enemy. The enhancement he had in mind would suck all the magic in that pocket. While it wouldn't kill the people inside it, for most it would be a fate worse than death – becoming less than squibs, living with no magic for the rest of their lives, that would probably be spent in Azkaban or another prison. For Voldemort, though, that would mean death. Without magic, his body would be unable to exist and would disintegrate, releasing his soul, that would pass on, no longer having any anchors in this world.
By the time the black shadow that was Voldemort appeared at a respectable distance from the gate, none of those trapped by the wards still had a wand or any other weapon of any kind. They still had their magic, but not for long.
Voldemort watched the trapped group. It looked weird, as if those trapped could freely move sideways within that trap, but only a few feet front or back. He couldn't find any sense in it. He tried all he knew to understand the ward structure without coming too close or using his wand. He found what he expected Hogwarts wards to look like, but there was some more, things he'd never seen before and couldn't even guess about their function. Well, that would have to wait. He needed to know what was going on with the rest of the force.
He had no problem finding where the rest of the force was. None was moving, though, despite some of the werewolves not being dead yet. He couldn't get any of the dying to tell anything coherent. Unfortunately, Legilimency didn't work on their minds. He wondered about the trolls until he noticed the red dew covering quite a bit of ground. He managed to find very few bits larger than a drop and identified it as the remains of a troll. How could a troll be destroyed that way? He knew of no magic to achieve such a feat. And yet, it didn't look like there was any fight there. Even an ambush would have left more signs. He checked around, noticing that the wards were more than fifty feet away and there was no sign of anybody staying there before: no trampled on grass, no footprints. The wards also looked too strong for him to overload, much stronger than he'd ever seen them. Had they been this strong when he resided in Quirrell, he would have not been able to even come near the school. What happened that they were suddenly so strong? He could find no answer.
He returned to the group at the gates. The outer ward was very weak. He wondered why none could get out of there, even if going forward was practically impossible. The outer wards only disallowed dangerous creatures from crossing. That would have probably stopped the werewolves, but should not be a problem to him. He stepped forward. Only when passing that ward did he notice that there was also another component, one he couldn't identify.
He was holding his wand in his hand when approaching, Once he passed the ward line, he felt his wand snatched away. The force was much stronger than what he could use to hold it. He was now as trapped as his minions and without his wand. At least he could do some wandless magic in emergencies.
It was frustrating. He could see nobody on the Hogwarts grounds. If there was anyone within the walls, they were too far to clearly see. He didn't even know if there was anybody there or the wards acted on their own. This didn't look like something Dumbledore would have done, but who did it then?
As there seemed nothing to be done for a while, he started interrogating the first group. He didn't bother with questions. He just used his Legilimency abilities to get the story directly from their minds. After checking ten, he still couldn't believe it. What kind of wards changed as you moved? What kind of wards disarmed people? And judging by what he had seen, these weren't goblin wards. Well, were they goblin designs, he would have found his minions dead and probably in small pieces.
Despite his frustration, he could do nothing but wait. Crucio was only working with a wand.