Disclaimer: Kentoc'h mervel eget bezañ saotret.
Vincere aut Mori
Flint began frantically flicking cutting charms into the crowd of terrorists as quickly as she could cast them. She targeted throats, eyes, stomachs, wrists, and groins when she had a moment to aim and targeted anything she could on anyone unfriendly when she didn't.
"Damn it. Damn it! DAMN IT!" she screamed in frustration as she did her best to draw attention to herself while ending as many death eaters as possible. Flint knew she was going to die, she knew that there was no chance that she was going to leave Hogsmeade alive, worse, she knew her charge was just as unlikely to survive. "Protect the Chief!" she screamed, hitting a death eater with a summoning charm and using the body to block a killing curse meant for her charge. She dove into the crowd, following Potter as closely as she could. Flint knew that she was going to die but she was determined not to suffer the dishonor of watching her charge precede her. She was going to die but she she was determined to buy the Chief a few extra moments of life with her death.
Scattered about the street, two dozen Potter Security Operatives drew their wands and joined their leader in what they were sure was a hopeless fight to the end. It wasn't a question of fighting to survive. Their choice was simple; to die on their knees begging to avoid their fate or to die on their feet resisting to their last breaths. It wasn't a hard choice, not for the type Harry hired. The terrorists may win but there wouldn't be many left to celebrate their victory.
IIIIIIIIII
In the room they'd reserved on the fourth floor of the Three Broomsticks, Auror Rose laughed wildly as she held up for all to see the latest obscene object one of her colleagues had given her for all to admire before tossing it onto the pile with the others.
"Thanks, Partridge!" Rose called out. "I'll be sure to put it to good-"
Every Auror in the room froze, their senses screaming that someone, several someones were transporting in.
"Death Eaters!" Partridge yelled from the window. "Rose, get the girls out of here!"
Without a hint of hesitation, Rose dove off the couch and grabbed both girls into a tight hug before she activated their emergency portkeys causing all three to disappear.
IIIIIIIIII
Neville laughed as Juliet finished her impersonation of her uncle Jim. He'd been delighted to discover that the girl had hidden an absolutely delightful sense of humor under her shy exterior. Perhaps he should draft a letter of thanks to her aunt for the introduction? He'd ask his distant cousin if it would be appropriate when he thanked her in person. Hopefully it wouldn't make Hermione too smug and hopefully Harry would forgive him if it did.
"When do you think you can spare the time for another date, Neville?" the girl asked, switching back to normal. "Soon I hope?"
"Never. Time spent with you is never spared, it's carefully hoarded. To answer the question you should have asked; when will I be fortunate enough to again be privileged with your company? Let me know what times work for you and I will do my utmost to be available. No matter what I have to skip or cancel, you're worth more to me than the world."
"Neville," the girl sighed. "I-" She got a look an odd look on her face, as if trying to decide if she should be frightened.
"What's wrong?" Neville asked firmly, trying to get her attention.
"Some people just arrived," Juliet said slowly, her attention divided between him and something outside his view. "A woman and two girls. They're saying something about a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade?"
Neville went cold as a lifetime of conditioning informed him of what he had to do. "Juliette." A peaceful smile adorned his face. "Our time together has been wonderful in ways I lack the words to express. I believe that I am falling in love with you if I haven't completely fallen for you already. I hope you remember me with fondness and I hope you live a long and happy life and that you find someone to share it with. Good bye." In one smooth motion, the boy threw a hand full of floo powder into the fire "Three Broomsticks!" An instant later he tumbled into the pub. "Younger students first, through the fire and back to the castle. Older students guard the floo, close it after you all get through or close it if you think the bastards are about to get in! They can't be allowed an open floo to the castle," Neville ordered. "No matter what it costs us to prevent it they can not be permitted a path into the castle."
"What're you going to do, mate?" Seamus asked with a grin, already knowing the answer and eager to join in.
"I am going to buy time," Neville replied, heading towards the door.
"Hear that?" Seamus yelled. "Neville's not going to let Harry hog all the fun this time. Who's wants to join us?"
"Gryffindor!" Dean, Lavender, Parvati, and half a dozen of the other upper years cheered.
"I do hope that this isn't a private party, because I would quite like to come along," Justin said calmly as he joined the group. "Shall we?"
"We don't take a step back, we hold till every little one is back in the castle, none gets past us and lives," Neville said firmly, reaching for the door. The boy drew his wand, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
There were dozens of them around Harry, Neville noted. Dozens of them and only one woman at Harry's side. He had to do something to distract them if he didn't want to watch his friend die. It was the woman at Harry's side that gave him the answer. Harry was quiet, a whirlwind of destruction weaving his way through the ranks of the murderers. His shadow on the other hand mixed incantations with screamed expletives.
"DESPERTA FERRO!" Neville screamed, calling out the battle cry favored by the characters from a half remembered history book as he stormed into the brawl, hoping desperately that it would draw some of the unwanted attention away from his friend.
"FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY!" Justin screamed as he rushed out, when in Rome and all that. May as well face the end as a man of his class should. Pity he had to die, but at least his death would be so that others would live. There were worse ways to go. The boy had a smile on his face as he cast curse after curse. Stiff upper lip, he'd show them how an Englishman died.
"DEX AIE!"
"WEST HAM TILL I DIE!"
The students poured out of the pub and immediately set upon the nearest group of Death Eaters like a group of ferrets on a wounded rabbit. With a thirst for blood and without even the slightest trace of mercy.
"Hakkaa Päälle!" Inkeri McIver, a svelt blonde seventh year screamed, calmly bisecting a Death Eater before turning her wand on another, a grin adorned her face knowing that she would soon be feasting in the halls of Valhalla, entertaining her ancestors with the tale of her glorious death. She wielded her wand like a whip, flinging cutting charm after cutting charm into the mass of Death Eaters. "Hakkaa Päälle!" It was a good day to die. "Hakkaa Päälle!"
"Har Har Mahadev!" Parvati laughed, blood pounding in her ears. She knew she was going to die, she'd accepted that when she'd joined Neville's band. She was going to die, but she was going to make damn sure that they took enough Death Eaters with them that every one of the younger students would make it back to the castle safely. The girl grunted as something hit her in the side, no time to worry about what that could have been, there was work to be done. Her wand flicked and a rain of icicles fell from the sky onto her foes.
"Har Har Mahadev!" Lavender echoed, not knowing the words but understanding the spirit they conveyed. Unlike her best friend, she focused more on defense, doing her best to protect her friends and fellow students, doing her best to delay the end of what she knew to be a hopeless battle long enough for the Broomsticks to be emptied. The girl threw a quick blood clotting charm at her best friend and banished a handful of gravel to intercept a killing curse. "Har Har Mahadev! You bastards, Har Har Mahadev!"
For the Death Eaters, it was as if a swarm of demons had erupted from the deepest bowels of hell. Minds frozen by indecision; some tried to fight, some tried to run, most died where they stood with with frozen looks of shocked incomprehension on their faces. Since when did the sheep fight back? Since when did they do more than bleat, beg, and die?
IIIIIIIIII
Sprout threw up a wall of earth, blocking a group of her children from a hail of curses before turning on their attackers intent on killing every one of them.
Blood spatter stained her robes, the woman ignored her rapidly growing list of injuries as she hit the group of terrorists with spell after spell. She couldn't allow herself to fall, she couldn't allow herself to slow down, not while the men had had-
IIIIIIIIII
Harold Greene hadn't gone to Hogwarts nor had anyone from his family. Hogwarts letters weren't exactly the sort of thing people on his tier of life expected to see. He'd gone to a good enough school, he'd graduated, and he'd apprenticed with the local pastry maker. The man had taught him every aspect of the craft. More importantly the man had had a pretty daughter his age. One thing had led to another and Harold was expecting his third child at the end of the month.
Harold's heart sank when they arrived. He was going to die. He was never going to see his new child. Harold smiled. His wife and children were out of town visiting his parents. Whatever happened, they'd be safe. Knowing that, he thought he could face his death calmly.
A spark of hope lit in his breast when Harry Potter threw himself into the fray. To be expected of the boy-who-lived, he thought to himself, wishing he had a thimbleful of the boy's courage. That hope died when Harold realized just how many Death Eaters there were. No one, not even the boy-who-lived could take that many by themselves.
"Protect the Chief!" the man to his right screamed, drawing his wand and cursing a Death Eater. "Don't let anyone near the Chief! Kill them all!"
Harold's eyes widened in shock. Who said the boy-who-lived had to do everything himself? "Protect the Chief!" Harold echoed, drawing his own wand and hitting a Death Eater with a bludgeoning charm. It was a good nickname, he thought, much easier to say than the boy-who-lived. "Hex anyone who even looks at the Chief! Kill every one of the bastards!"
In ones and twos the residents of Hogsmeade began to realize exactly what was happening. Their neighbors were fighting back, their neighbors were helping the boy-who-lived. How could they not do the same?
"PROTECT THE CHIEF!" one of the townspeople screamed.
"KILL THEM ALL!" another agreed.
IIIIIIIIII
McGonagall transfigured two dozen cobblestones into a horde of flying monkeys. Half of them immediately went to hover protectively in front of her students, blocking any curses from getting to the children. The other half set upon the attackers with deadly effect.
What had the world done to have these bastards inflicted upon it, she lamented. The woman dodged a curse and transfigured her attacker's clothing into hot pitch. She hoped the man's screams of agony didn't disturb her children too much. A flick of her wand turned another terrorist's wand into a deadly snake which sank its fangs into the man's throat. She would have to remember to have a word with Poppy to make sure they had an adequate supply of dreamless sleep for the children and to see if the woman had any ideas on how to help the children get over the trauma from the attack. She transfigured a mask into potassium using one of the concepts they'd figured out from one of her student's delightful little mistakes. It worked as well as she'd hoped it would and she immediately repeated the spell on several other terrorists. Minerva made a mental note to write a paper on the effect if she managed to survive long enough to do so.
IIIIIIIIII
Martha McCoy had lived in Hogsmeade her entire life as had her mother and her mother and generations of her family to the founding of the town. Unlike most of the residents, she wasn't overcome by fear or despair. Quite the contrary, Martha McCoy felt nothing but rage. How dare they! How bloody dare they! How bloody dare they attack her town!
"So what if I'm going to die?" she muttered to herself. "So what if they're going to kill me?" She banished a cobblestone into one of the Death Eaters, shattering the man's skull. "That one isn't going to kill me!" A dozen more stones ripped out of the street and rose into the air. "Or that one! Or that one! Or that one! Or that one! Or that one! Or that one! Or that one! Or that one! Or that one! Or that one! Or that one!"
IIIIIIIIII
Flitwick stood calmly in the middle of the street, a serene smile on his face, seemly ignoring the spellfire, waving his wand like a conductor and interlacing deadly curses directed at his foes with shields and healing charms at the students. It had been some time since he'd been in the ring so it was quite fortunate that he'd been spending time with young Mr. Potter to teach the boy a few of the tricks that he'd picked up. A thought occurred to the professor, how did that reanimation spell go again? Oh yes.
The corpses of his victims jerked a couple times before they stood and began shambling towards their former comrades who immediately took their focus off of Flitwick and his charges and spent their focus on not being eaten alive. Just as the professor hoped they would. He ended three more and added them to his growing army. Flitwick spared himself a moment to watch the lead death eater go down screaming as the revenants tore him apart with their fingers and teeth.
"Into the shops, ladies, gentlemen," he said to the students. "From there into the basements if they have them and then I want you all to cast flame freezing charms and-" he threw up a quick shield and ended the death eater that had interrupted him before adding the man to his army. "Then I want you to cast the charms I taught you to use if you were ever trapped in burning building. Does everyone understand? Good. Hop to it. Locking charms behind you once you get to the bottom of the stairs and every hex you know on anyone who tries to follow you that you don't know and trust."
IIIIIIIIII
A soft 'pop' caused the shop foreman to look up from his work into the eyes of the crazed house elf that usually brought his employer's meals.
"Yes?"
"May Dobby borry some of these spikeys?" the elf asked, holding up a hand full of carriage screws. "Dobby promises to clean them and bring them back when he is done with them."
"How many do you want?"
"Dobby only needs fifteen," the house elf replied.
"They're yours," the foreman replied.
"Thank you, Mr. Forryman."
IIIIIIIIII
Bella had never experienced anything like it. The sheep were fighting back. The thought of retreat or surrender never crossed her mind. She would accomplish the mission given to her by her lord or she would die. There were no other options. The insane woman flung a killing curse at her target and instantly became the target of every opposing wand on the field.
Protect the Chief. Kill them all.
She didn't live to see Harry summoning one of her subordinates into the path of the spell. None of her subordinates survived her by more than a handful of seconds.
IIIIIIIIII
From the meeting room on the third floor of the Three Broomsticks, Shattertooth of Gringotts watched as the Death Eaters appeared. Seemed he'd have more time to enjoy cigars than he'd thought. The old goblin grinned in approval as the boy he was supposed to meet with unhesitatingly hurled himself into danger. Goblin in human skin indeed. It seemed the stories were true.
"I want every goblin at this window watching a different part of the battle!" Shattertooth ordered, his unblinking gaze locked on the Potter. "The ballad they write about this will either make a fitting end to the Saga of Potter, the goblin in human skin, and worthy cap to his funeral, or it will make a fine chapter of many."
"Damn the treaty that won't let us join in," one of his underlings lamented. "We're witnessing a legend and we can't be a part of it."
Now there, a spare part of Shattertooth's mind noted, was an idea he'd have to investigate later. His grin widened as a hail of spells rained down from the room below. Perhaps he'd get lucky and a goblin would get hit by a stray curse? Be an easy solution to the treaty. "Lean out the windows as far as you can without falling out," he ordered. "Anyone that gets hit, it was by a death eater spell. We all saw it. They attack us and the treaty says we're allowed to aggressively defend ourselves. Pick your targets and hope for the best."
IIIIIIIIII
Back at the Granger estate, Tonks wanted to scream in frustration. Of all the bloody days! The woman's foot tapped impatiently as the seconds, seconds that felt like years, ticked. She hated the sound, hated the fact that each tick meant her people were alone, knowing that each tick meant the death of a friend and colleague.
"Fifteen in the first group, ready to go!" her number two shouted. "Second group will follow in fifteen seconds."
"Away Portkeys!" Tonks ordered.
IIIIIIIIII
The world spun and it took a moment for Hermione to realize what had happened. Her foreman had picked her up and was sprinting towards the engine shed. Beside her, Luna was being carried in a similar fashion by her conductor.
"Get them in the boiler," the Engineer ordered the second the foreman and conductor arrived with their precious cargo.
All around the shop, the girls could see the rest of the crew arming themselves with the various items, tools, and implements.
"Come on, Hermione," Luna grabbed her friend's arm and dragged her towards the massive engine, "we can find out what this is all about later."
"But . . ."
"Don't come out till I say it's safe," the Engineer called after them. "No matter what you hear, don't come out!"
"No harm comes to them while a single one of us draws breath!" the foreman ordered. "They want our girls, they have to climb over every one of our corpses to get to them! We die to the last before we let them harm a hair on their heads!"
The goblin technicians roared in approval. A half second later the humans did the same.
IIIIIIIIII
Donald had spent six lonely years at Hogwarts without a girlfriend, without so much as a smile from a member of the opposite sex that even hinted at more. As with the others, he'd sent his galleon to the Weasley twins for their manual; The Wizard's Guide to Wooing Witches Using the Proven Harry Potter Method, Third Edition, Second Printing. He'd held no real hope that it'd be helpful but hope, as they say, is a powerful thing, and he'd figured the money was worth the hope it bought him.
Hope had turned to disappointment after he'd read it. Sure he'd practiced the spells and started the exercise routine, but where was he going to find a mythical creature or group of Death Eaters to rescue a comely young witch from?
Donald knew he was going to die when he saw the black robes and dark masks. What a waste, he thought to himself as he contemplated all the things he'd never get to do. He'd never get to see the Harpies play in person, never get a chance to achieve his dream of becoming a candy maker, never get to meet a girl and . . . his eyes widened as he realized just what kind of opportunity had just fallen into his lap. On the minus side, there was a high to almost certain chance of death. On the other, that was mitigated by the fact that Wanda Wilkins, if not the prettiest girl in school then certainly the prettiest to him, was being held at wand-point by one of the fiends. He opened his mouth to shout something suitably heroic before remembering the advice in the dueling section of his favorite dating manual. Surprise is your friend, why waste it? Heroic statements are all well and good. Make them when it's safe. It won't spoil the surprise and there's a better chance that they'll be remembered. The Death Eater went down in a heap as his bones turned to saltwater taffy.
"Get away from her you bastard!" Donald screamed at the corpse. "Come on, Wanda." He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the nearest alley. "It's not safe here in the open."
"Donald?" the girl squeaked. "You saved me."
"Thank me later," he said, trying to sound heroic as he lined up on his next target. "We need to stop them before they hurt anyone else." Another Death Eater went down as his bones turned into a confection.
"Right," she said, voice a touch calmer. "Watch my back and I'll watch yours?"
"Deal." He flinched, a spell getting a bit too close to his face.
"Bastard!" Wanda screamed, ending the threat with a stream of conjured nails.
"Want to go out some time if we live through this?" he asked, missing his target but ending the man next to him.
"Not sure we have the time." They both dropped to the ground as the spellfire got a bit too intense. "I . . . I guess that's a good thing," her voice caught. "Every second we keep them busy is one the younger kids can use to get somewhere safe."
"Yeah," he sighed.
Surprising both of them, she leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Since we don't have time to do things the normal way, why don't we just skip that bit and say we're boyfriend and girlfriend."
"Al-alright," he agreed. He raised a wall of earth, saving both of them from a pair of killing curses. "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"I was going to try to save you so you'd go out with me," he admitted. "I didn't even think about the little ones till you mentioned them."
"You're thinking about them now, aren't you?" There was a lull in the spellfire.
"Yeah."
"Then I forgive you, Donald," she giggled, kissing him again. "I just wish you'd asked me out yesterday."
"Really?"
"No one ever has before," she sighed. "I was starting to worry that there was something wrong with me."
"I wanted to, but-" He threw himself on top of her, recognizing the incoming hex. The blasting hex hit the wall of the building they were taking cover behind, sending hundreds of splinters ranging in size from fingers to arms pin-balling around the alley.
"But," she whispered. "Donald?"
"But I wasn't brave enough, you're too pretty," he coughed, trying to smile. "I'm just a coward at heart."
"Are you alright?"
"I don't think so," he admitted. "Sorry, but I don't know if I'll be able to be your boyfriend for much longer."
"Donald, I'm going to try to get out from under you so I can look at your back." She took a deep breath. "Ready."
"You're hurt, too," the boy sounded almost accusatory. "You didn't tell me you were hurt."
"What?"
"Your side," he said, fumbling for his wand. "Stay still, I'm going to try to stop the bleeding."
Her eyes naturally followed his line of site to the splinter the size of her wand stuck almost through the meat of her left hip.
"Hello the alley! Aurors, are you alright?"
"How do we know you're not Death Eaters?" Wanda demanded.
"By the fact that we're not trying to kill you," the voice replied, sounding amused.
The girl considered the reply for a second. "Do you have a healer!" she called back hopefully. "We either need one quick or not at all."
IIIIIIIIII
The battle for Hogsmeade, as it would later be called, lasted less than five minutes. History books would record that the Dark Lord's best faced the hero of the wizard world, a schoolboy aided only by the common folk of the town, and shattered. Very little mention was made of the Potter Security Operatives or the Aurors. Some books would note that Harry was aided by no more than two or three of his armsmen, others would note that there were four Aurors assigned to the town and at least two more that happened to be shopping that day. Those few that did would quickly add that such a small number of trained wands would have had little effect on the battle and that the main thing to remember was that the battle had shown the Dark Lord to be naught but a paper tiger, far from being a man to be feared the battle had shown that common folk could stand against the best he had to offer and win.