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War was not about an army, as he used to think. It was about each soldier, each tiny fight for survival..
|HPTC-Harry Potter|
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Part 15- Sanguinas
The altar, Erzmyn Szreil...
*Beside her Hermione gave a great gasp and shot upright.
"What happened?" She asked.*
Draco dropped to his knees and put his arms around her. He kissed her passionately, with no regard for the onlookers. "Someone kidnapped you...we got here just in time." Build upon the truth, that's what father always said... He thought.
Harry caught on and cleared his throat. "Yeah, Draco, um- rescued you."
"My prince charming..." She laughed.
Draco turned to Raef and Jimmy, muttering a memory charm under his breath. Their expressions became slightly confused.
"You two, intelligence officers, right?" Draco asked as they nodded. "Take her back, will you? And this time make sure she's safe."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry putting a memory charm on the paramedics. Hermione allowed herself to be led away. Draco glanced at Parthenope's prone figure as Harry and Ron rounded on him.
"What the hell happened?" Harry yelled. "She was goddamn dead, Malfoy!"
"Parry brought her back."
"That's impossible unless it's Dark Magic!" Ron exclaimed.
"So what if it is? I couldn't just let her die." Draco narrowed his eyes. "I thought you'd be grateful."
"We are- don't get me wrong." Harry said, quickly. "Doesn't she remember anything?"
"No. She just went to bed and woke up here. And that's all she'll ever know."
"Why, Malfoy?" Ron asked. "I should think you'd want to boast about bringing her back from the dead."
"Because, Weasel...ly-Weasley-" Draco said, hurriedly, because of Harry's glance. "I'm going to do something gut-wrenchingly horrible to her." He glanced at Pathenope. "The only way we'll get through it is for her to hate me."
"What are you going to do-" Harry began.
"I'm going to marry Parthenope."
"What?" Ron's question was flabbergasted yet somehow gleeful.
"You're only seventeen!"
"There's no Wizarding Law against it, Potter." Draco drawled.
"But why, Draco. I know you love Hermione. How long has this thing between Parthenope and you been going on?"
"Oh, about fifteen minutes now, I should say." Draco looked menacing. "That was the price, Potter."
"What?"
"That was Parry's price for risking her life and soul for Mia." Draco glanced away and wished he had a cigarette. "What's with the fucking third degree. I saved her, isn't that enough? It was the only way."
"We're just worried about the- repercussions..."
"Aren't the Living Dead supposed to be soulless or something?"
"It's called the Law of Balance. The person who recalled the dead soul must perish in the same way- within two years."
"That would be Parthenope, right, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"Wrong, Potter, that would be me."
A shocked silence prevailed. "I- don't know what to say, M-Draco." Harry whispered.
Draco dropped his gaze. I haven't even told you the worst part yet, Potter... He thought, grimly.
"You must tell her, Draco." Harry insisted. "She'll be- worse- than dead."
"Don't you understand, Harry? If I tell her she'll spend the rest of her life miserable. She'll blame herself for my unhappiness and my deeds and she'll blame herself for my death. I know what it's like to feel as if you've killed your love. Believe you me Harry, she must never know..."
Draco shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hatred is the only thing that can sustain her now. If she hates me it'll give her a reason to live- and to be happy. She'll get on with her life just to prove to me she can."
"She can read minds." Ron interposed quietly. "What if she gets it out of us?"
"You'll just have to make sure she doesn't, won't you? Use the Protection Charm, it'll block your thoughts from her." Draco said. "Go on, get back. I need to talk to Parry."
Harry hesitated, then squeezed Draco's shoulder. "You're not as bad as you make out to be, Draco...I'm- proud- to have you as a friend."
"If you're waiting for reciprocation, it's not gonna happen, Harry." Draco smiled wanly. "Thanks. I thought you were supposed to, like, do 'worse than the dementors'-" He imitated Harry's warning to him. "-if I hurt her."
"I think I'll waive that option this time, Draco."
"I love her, you know."
"Yeah. I do. I don't think we'll be talking much after this, Draco."
"No...it'll be back to Hogwarts, I think. No, worse."
"So, goodbye, Malfoy. It's been- surreal." Harry turned and walked away, Ron right behind him.
Draco turned towards Parthenope. "Enervate." He muttered. "Get up, Countess." He mocked, shaking her.
She moaned and stirred. "Draco?"
"No, the Easter Bunny." Parry was on her feet.
"Where's the mudblood?"
"I didn't want to subject her to your presence." Draco started walking towards his HorseShoe. "So, are you coming tonight?"
"Obviously. The way you barged in and alerted everyone, the Master will have my head if I go back." "He's not your Master any more." Draco rubbed the handle of his FireBolt extra with his sleeve. "When shall we..."
He left the sentence incomplete, not wanting to say the dread word. "We'll be married right now...just in front of the proper Authority."
Draco did not acknowledge her words. "You'll officially be under my command. Don't pull anything and keep to yourself. If you say a word to Hermione I'll hurt you in a way that'll make the Cruciatus Curse feel like a tickle." Parthenope looked at him in wonder bordering on disbelief.
"You've changed."
"And don't you forget it."
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Draco's private chamber, much later that night...
Draco looked down at the plain wedding band on his finger. He felt defiled. Parry was in the bathroom and Draco was hoping she would not demand fulfillment of her conjugal rights.
He willed himself into the Sorcerors World...
Before he could even find his bearings, a loud, angry voice drummed in his ears. "You stupid, ignorant, altruistic fool!"
Draco turned. "You are referring, perchance, to me?"
"Love-blind moron! Do you realise what you have done?" The silver eyes gleamed cold-hearted fury.
"I'm sure you'll enlighten me."
"Now you will-you must- die within two years! You will take my place much sooner than I anticipated. I will not stand for it. I might as well have aided Tom Riddle..."
"Well, you didn't and you can't because you chose me as your heir."
"Reverse what you have done or I will kill you, boy! Kill the girl instead of her k-"
"I will not. You do not control me, Sorceror. Besides, I am already your heir. If you kill me-your chosen heir, then by ancient law your bloodline will never yield another heir."
"Don't test my patience with history..."
"I am more powerful than you ever were." Draco looked as malicious as the Sorceror. "Terrori Manifesto."
The Sorceror cringed as the jet of grey light hit him. He screamed in fearful agony. His worst fears were manifesting themselves. "Ceasium." Daemersgrale's face smoothed.
"I shall depart from your mind forever, Sorceror Valwracen. You have proved yourself more powerful. I am not such a fool as Slytherin or Tom Riddle."
"I will win this war."
"Perhaps...I will be watching..."
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Dawn, the next morning...
Hermione gripped Arion's neck tightly, holding back the tears that threatened to flow down her puffy, sleep-craven face. Her army was behind her and they were on the battlefield, poised to start. She glanced to her right and bit her lip.
Draco was riding tall on Alyewn with his cape floating on the wind, three rows of assorted humans and dark creatures behind him and a black shadow of Dementors fanning out behind them. The Dementors had agreed to direct their powers only towards Voldemorts' Army. Parthenope Czyren stood beside him, a smug expression on her face.
On her finger was a large diamond ring. A wedding ring. Hermione had heard the news as she woke in the morning. Draco had married someone else. He wasn't simply going out with Parry, he had married her. She hadn't believed it at first and she still didn't understand. He had kissed her so intensely simply hours before. She knew he loved her- so why had he married Parthenope?
Hermione shook her head. This isn't the time for your problems, Herm...the Wizarding World is at stake... She told herself firmly. It was no use. Amazing how little the fate of the World means when the person you love isn't beside you.
Celeste was to her left, Harry and Dumbledore ahead of her. Albus seemed to have recovered somewhat from the illness that had struck him so recently. He looked ready to fight along with the other multitudes behind him. Hermione was amazed at how many magic-users had assembled in the closed space. It seemed like half the world was fighting the War.
Voldemort's supposed to have even more than us... She held her head high, wondering if the day could possibly bring any more surprises.
All of a sudden, figures appeared from the opposing horseshoe. Large trolls flanked the mass of people led by Voldemort. Their numbers were obviously depleted by the defection of the Undead and the Dementors, but they were still a formidable amount.
Harry could see not only humans, but Veela, Vampires, Banshees, Werewolves and almost every sort of Dark Creature he had ever seen. Voldemort was on Blacknight, his eyes flaming. A large cage was suspended from Blacknight's claws. Harry felt his stomach freeze.
Without even knowing it, he had flown his FireBolt towards it. He leapt off and gripped the bars of the cage. "Alohomora." He yelled. "No...oh God, no..."
Sirius and Remus were lying on the floor of the cage. Their bodies were stiff. "Heartrending reunion, but nothing will help them now." Voldemort called.
"You will die for this." Harry said, through clenched teeth. He muttered a spell and the cage disappeared. Without a backward glance he went back to the head of his Army.
"I am sorry, Harry." Dumbledore said, his eyes overbright. "We have already lost too many of our sympathisers...Sirius, Remus, Narce Ha-"
"Narcissa Malfoy was not with us?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"Oh, she was- a courageous woman, she sacrificed everything for us. She was the only way we were informed of Voldemort's plans. But that isn't our story. We must write our own, and not draw from the past." Dumbledore looked older and more vulnerable than Harry had ever seen.
Harry's face clouded. "I can't believe- they're not going to be beside me when I fight." He whispered.
"Where did you transport them?"
"Inside our horseshoe. I will give them a proper burial. It just seems so- worthless..."
"Come, let us give their deaths value. We must win this War, Harry...we must."
"And we will."
Voldemort appeared disinterested, but his eyes widened when he saw Hermione alive. He turned back. "Senneca."
She appeared and bowed low. "Yes, my Lord?"
"Hermione Granger still lives. You have failed. You know what the cost of failure is..."
"But, Master, I killed her! I speak the truth!" Senneca glanced around. "The Necromancer, she must have brought her back..."
Voldemort considered. "That would complete the puzzle...you are correct."
A small man Apparated into the middle ground. It was Georg, the moderator at the Meet of Mages. His voice was magnified. "Please let me remind you that magic is not allowed. Wands will not work. Natural magic, such as that possessed by Mensamagi and Elemagi is allowed. May the battles commence!"
For a fraction of a moment, nothing happened. Then Parthenope's voice filled the surrounding area. Within seconds, all manner of zombies, spirits and living dead had gathered behind her. Draco had lifted his wand and electric light was pouring from it. Alyewn screamed a great battle cry as small dots in the sky grew larger and larger.
At least five hundred huge dragons clogged the air. Harry was sure he recognised the Hungarian Horntail he had battled at the Triwizard Tournament. Since Dragons did not obey mortal time, the TimeFreeze did not affect them.
The ground shook and trembled as the giants arrived on the battleground. The generals yelled "Charge!". Almost in unison, each army rushed forwards. Like six writhing snakes they clashed in the middle. The deafening roar of metal on metal filled the air.
Draco drew out his crystal hafted sword and started slashing at anything wearing Slytherin Green. Alyewn breathed searing fire at those nearby. Draco felt oddly at ease in the tense surroundings. He had been brought up to survive and this was a place where surviving was the whole aim. He felt no remorse as people fell to his bloodied sword.
Hermione tried to close her mind to the powerful emotions emanating from almost every fighter. The screams of the wounded were harder to block out.
"Now!" She yelled, to her line of Archers, as she let loose an arrow. Hurriedly, she pulled another from her quiver and fitted it into her bow.
Kill or be killed. The Law of the Jungle. She thought, disgusted.
Harry held a sword in one hand and spear in the other. He floated slightly above everyone else on his Firebolt Extra, lending a hand to those in trouble. Dumbledore had told him to motivate people. The merest sight of the Boy Who Lived gave hope to the combatants.
As he wiped the blood from his spear, Harry felt disgusted. War was not about an army, as he used to think. It was about each soldier, each tiny fight for survival.
Celeste LaSeule wondered how she had gotten mixed up in this. Uptil a few months ago, she had simply been a damn gifted alchemist, now she was a General in the Coalition Army. A flash of well-aimed lightning spouting from a man's hands held her gaze for a few seconds till a tornado whipped a few people spinning into the air. Elemental Magic.
A figure grabbed her wrist and tried to flip her. Celeste delivered a punch to his midriff and a fast kick under his chin. He sagged and crumped to the ground. She took out her dagger and plunged it into the back of a werewolf attacking a man wearing her colour, deep golden yellow.
The werewolf turned on her, snarling, but the man was up. With quick reflexes, he plunged a spear straight into it's heart. "Thanks, General LaSeule." He muttered.
"Anytime." Celeste bent and pulled the dagger from the werewolf's back and wondered how she could be so heartless.
Albus Dumbledore had the blue fire blazing in his eyes. He was quick with his sword and feet but his movements were strained. His eyes had been magically corrected just for the occasion. He suppressed the need to cough.
He had forced and dragged himself out of his bed that morning. Every muscle and fibre of his body rebelled. He had been coughing up blood on a regular basis. Just to be there had required QuickHeal Enchantments, Energy Charms and more than a few Health Booster Talismans. They helped, but they were temporary.
He had been using them to conceal his grave illnesses for a year in the least. They were becoming less and less effective. Once the war was over, if he was alive, of course, Dumbledore knew the strain would catch up to him. He wondered how the world would face his death...
Padma Patil could not help smiling. Through the destruction around her, her face glowed. Last night Ronald Weasley had proposed to her. She could remember the exact words...
"Padma, I have something important to talk to you about."
"So talk."
"Tonight I've had an experience. I've realised my-our mortality. I'm- afraid that if I don't do this now...I may never get the chance." He stopped and blushed deep red. "Will you marry me?"
She had accepted, of course. Somehow, marriage at sixteen or seventeen was much more plausible now. The atmosphere of war was different. Death could pounce at any moment, and they truly lived life as if they would die tomorrow. It was a very real possibility.
But then again, Padma and Ron were simply engaged, they would probably wait a few years before actually getting married. In Padma's mind, though, they were already wed.
Ron Weasley tried to observe what was happening in the battle. As planned, the giants had broken away and were encircling Voldemort's Army. He hoped that the others were following the Plan. His mind wandered and his grip on the spear loosened.
Cold fingers wrenched it out of his hands and wrestled him through the floor. Ron looked up into red eyes and elongated fangs. A Vampire! He screamed mentally. He tried to wrench ths spear from the long fingers to stake the creature.
He wondered how come it could come into the light and realised that she was fully covered. Her face was covered by a DeathEaters mask and her hands gloved. There was a jagged hole revealing the two large, dripping fangs.
Ron felt a double prick and excruciating pain as the Vampire began to drink his blood. He felt the fangs shift suddenly and the Vampire crumbled into glittering dust. "Let's try not to get killed, okay, Ron?" Bill Weasley said, flippancy masking his concern. "You okay, did she-"
Ron brushed Bills' fingers away from the bloody wound. "I'll be fine. Thanks."
"Thats pro bono, I charge for the next time I save your butt."
Inside the horseshoe, Chaos was sitting on the cold floor in a dark corner. She hugged herself to her knees and rocked, muttering. The pain and savagery of the war was roaring through her brain. She could almost taste the hurt.
Either man is obsolete, or War is... She thought, disconsolately.
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The Horseshoe, around the General's campfire
"Both armies have been depleted...our losses are almost equal. This might even turn into a battle of attrition, we are so equally matched." Dumbledore rubbed his beard thoughfully.
Attrition was when two armies were deadlocked, the Generals decided they would just try and wear each other down. Both armies would suffer great losses, but the army which was hardier and could survive better won.
"We would then lose." Harry interjected. "We have more people, but their army consists mainly of dark creatures who don't suffer from fatigue, hunger or thirst. We have to beat them in an out and out battle. Strategy is our weapon, we must use it to it's fullest. Ron-"
"We had a bit of a mix-up, evidently, the Dragons had a little trouble distinguishing Celeste's blue from You-Know-Who's green."
"What's the difference?" Hermione snapped back at him, shrilly.
"The Dragons aren't good with colour, but matte and shine they can distinguish well. If we have shiny helmets and Voldemorts Army doesn't they'll manage fine." Draco was still addressing the crowd and not Hermione.
They hadn't talked since she had awoken from the Necrosurrection trance. She avoided his eyes, but, as Draco had predicted, tried to pretend nothing was wrong. Draco wondered how long the damn war would last. The TimeFreeze could only be active for two months before it's effects became permanent.
"Excellent. Is that all?"
Celeste looked up. "The Draught is finished."
"Does it work?" Hermione asked, doubtfully. "How did you check, the effect take time to-?"
"Hermione, you forget we use magic. I tested it magically- it works." Her voice was a drained rather than triumphant. I've achieved my Life's goal... Celeste thought unhappily. What do I do now?
"Excellent. We will destroy it tomorrow. Who will keep a vial of it for the ceremony?" Dumbledore asked. The only way to erase something from the collective past, present and future memory of humanity was to keep one vial of the elixir around someone's neck and to destroy the rest of it with the Erasure Ceremony. It worked somewhat like the Fidelius Charm, as long as the wearer chose not to reveal the secret, the formula would be safe.
"I will." Celeste offered.
"Too obvious. You are the creator. We must choose someone they would not suspect." dumbledore glanced around. "Hermione...would you?" Harry was too famous, Ron would not be the kind, Draco could not be trusted that far and Dumbledore himself was not going to last long.
"Of course." She replied, somewhat surprised.
"That's it then. Get a good night's rest, build some morale." Harry said, standing up and brushing himself off. He took Hermione's hand and led her away, Ron was headed to the Strategy Room. Draco regarded Harry and Hermione for a second. It was so comfortable, the way she rested against him, the way his arm draped casually accross her shoulder.
Harry might not become Hermione's lover, but Draco could never be her best friend. At this particular moment, Draco did not know which was better.
Harry hugged Hermione concernedly. "Herm, I have to go see Cho...will you be all right?" He felt a guilty twinge.
Hermione's grimaced for a second. "Sure, I'll be fine. See you tomorrow, on the battlefield."
Harry turned and headed left. Hermione was too tired to realise that he was walking in the opposite direction to Cho's room. She collapsed onto her bed and sealed the door with bolts and locking charms. She rolled onto her side and turned on her Wizards Wireless and sighed with contentment.
The newest band, Violet Fire, was playing their hit song, Shatter. The drums seemed to throb into her mind and the lead singers' voice spoke to her heart.
When your world is a crystalline dream
It's so easy to forget that illusion
Is not at all what it may seem
And cannot last- it simply shatters.
A million pieces of memories divine
The shards of what could have been
Remembrance of when my life was mine
I lay scattered accross the floor.
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Senneca Liebermann's room, Voldemort's HorseShoe...
Senna Liebermann, as she preferred to be called, paced the room nervously. A large tapestry of Salazar Slytherin noiselessly curled aside. "Senna, what's wrong?" The voice was normal, on the verge of concerned.
"Nothing. I didn't think you'd come today." The man took her arm and sat beside her on the large bed.
"You're not angry at me for what happened in the battlefield, are you, sweet? You know I have to keep up appearances." He was soothing, whispering softly in her ear.
Senna drew away slightly. "It seemed like more than an appearance. You would have tortured me, would you?"
The figure's face looked irritated. "Must you ask all these questions, sweet? I would have had to."
"Why don't you just tell them." It was more a statement than a question.
"I must portray myself as having no weakness, weakness is human, so I must be inhuman. Inhuman people do not love."
Senna looked ready to kill him and cry at the same time. "This is love? I survive better on hatred."
He leaned closer and kissed her neck. "We all do, sweet." He whispered, between kisses. "Love isn't about survival, hatred is all about it."
"You're always one extreme or the other." Senna pouted.
"Better to be dead than simply average."
"Is that so?" He turned to her, his wide-set eyes blazing.
"Mediocrity is the scourge of mankind."
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Celeste's Potions Room...
Harry left Hermione in her room and slipped away. He was wearing the mercurile invisibility cloak that his father had given him and rubber shoes. He opened the door to the potions room easily. It was typical of Celeste to be so naive about guarding such a precious secret.
Still, it made his task easier.
A large hammered bronze cauldron was simmering above a bed-sized furnace. A glass tube channeled the mixture into a corked barrel. Without magic, Harry eased the cork out of the barrel and placed a large quartz crystal vial under the opening. A heavy goldish-red mixture which sparkled green slopped gently into the vial. Harry quickly stoppered the barrel.
He straightened. He had come this far. He needed to make the choice. With a single hesitation, he decided.
He tilted the vial at an obtuse angle and watched the contents spill out drop by tiny drop. Three swallows left...two swallows...one and a half...one...
With one decisive motion he lifted the vial to his lips and swallowed the contents.
Harry Potter would forever be- The Boy Who Lived.
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The Strategy Room, dark and quiet...
Ron skipped up the stairs and collapsed onto his chair. The pawns on the battleboard were glowing faintly, just enough to remind you they were there. He had not shown the Vampire's bite to Chaos, but had cleaned it out himself, using garlic-water.
Ron nearly laughed at himself. Honestly, garlic-water! That was one of the things Wizards had picked up from Muggles. The lore about the stake to the heart was true, well, tp a point. A wood stake would do fine, but a metal or crystal stake would kill the vampire just as dead. And the issue of the Cross, Vampire's never were afraid of it because they were always atheists.
I'll be avoiding ladders and black cats next! Ron muttered.
He unfastened his robes and pulled off his white t-shirt. The double bite looked inflamed and vicous. Surprisingly, it did not hurt. As he craned his neck to inspect the wound his flesh suddenly started to shiver. The area around the bite turned white with a hint of pale red. As he watched, the patch of white started to grow and cover his whole arm.
Before he knew it, it was over his torso, crawling onto his neck and down his legs. As it reached his face he could feel his jaw congeal and then spread to make a completely different visage.His bouncy hair fell flat accross his face in large, sharply curved locks. It felt like little pinpricks darting over his body. He could feel his innards shifting and as it reached his brain, it was like a damp cloth was placed over his eyes. His human thoughts were pushed far back and a more primal, predatory mindset took over.
He could think only in the most basic terms. The room was fuzzy, and the colours dull. Anything which was warm looked more vivid, a heat sensing device.
-Hunger- Ron's mind yelled, and underneath that thought was -Prey-Attack-Eat-. Like an endless stuck record. -Prey-Attack-Eat-Prey-Attack-Eat.
Ron looked down at himself and with the last shreds of humanity within him managed to eke out a thought. "Slytherin be cursed- I've become a vampire..."
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