Title: Journey of Legends
Chapter Six: First Blood
Summery: Harry Potter was a Legend and Legends have a way of echoing down through the years. People love and admire their legends. But what happens when that admiration is coupled with desperation? It sets Legends like Harry Potter off on a Journey they should never have taken.
Rating:R
Spoilers: Follows the books up to fourth book. I may change it to fit t he fifth boook once it comes out. We shall see.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. JKR does. She is a godess ect. I'll love her more when I get my hands on OotP
***
It had been a long month since that Slytherin had killed herself in the tower at Halloween. Monica found it hard to believe what had happened. After they'd come back, things had progressed in an insanely slow moving blur. They were made aware of so may things! There had been long cold nights alone in her room where all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep and never ever wake up. But that didn't seem very likely anymore.
Things had not been good among the warriors. Dane and Max had some how gotten the job of teaching the students. There was a rumor going round the rest of them that Max had suggested it to the impressionable Beneyt because he wanted to have just that much more chance to make fun of the other man. Sad really. Sad that it had even come to this. But she had to admit, at least the students were paying attention. She had come to a few classes and been very impressed. When she was in school, they never listened to their teachers!
But so many things had changed. To think, a vampire and a seventeen year old! Granted, Harry Potter had known her since they were ten and eleven respectively but Monica still had a hard time wrapping her mind around it. The other woman scared her in a way the Monica had once thought she was above. Her eyes held so much pain and fear that Monica would find herself wondering what had happened to make her look at the world like that. Ginny and Harry would disappear for long periods of time. No one knew where they went or what they discussed but Monica thought it was lucky that at least one of them had some one to turn to. God knew none of the rest of them did. Marcus never failed to make a crude remark about vampires and/or sex but most people ignored them now. It's not like any one didn't know about them.
But every one was starting to pull their own weight. The pain of being forced back into being had not disappeared. It was only easier to ignore now. They kept busy. That helped. Helping to teach classes or patrolling for strange activity at night. A few spent afternoons in the library though whether they researched the fate of family and friends long dead or the raising darkness, no one could say.
That was another thing. Monica could feel the evil magics in the air here. It was the same air she had breathed all seven years that she had gone to Hogwarts but it was older some how. Staler and the wind carried screams for mercy from voices long silenced by pain.. The students here seemed to not notice it any more but the warriors certainly did. Xira said it was like having some one pulling each of your hairs from your head as you slept. "I know what that's like to. They did it to my lover." And that's all that she would say about it.
Xira was one person Monica couldn't decide if she wanted to get to know her better or run and hide whenever she was ear. Weland and Dane seemed to think she was like a flower they needed to protect. She resented that. Monica had heard that she's been a supporter of dark forces in her time. Then she turned spy and they killed her boyfriend in front of her. It too them two weeks and then they started in on her. There was something in her eyes that made a person's blood run cold.
But they were a far cry from what had been expected of them. They were not perfect or all knowing. They had not ended the war within moments of waking. They had been so heart-breakingly human that it seemed almost as if they had failed in bringing them back. But all of that was about to be tested.
***
The students of the seventh year Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Care of Magical creatures class was slowly becoming used to seeing Harry watching their class. He sat inside the monument with his name on it and waited. They had the last class of the day and now that the days were becoming longer and longer, it was dark by the time that it ended. The girls of the class watched the enigma out of the corner of their eyes. But he almost didn't see them. His eyes were locked straight ahead on the poem etched firmly into the wall.
It had been done by some one with crude penmanship and was obviously not part of the original design. Ginny told him that Hagrid had etched it there. Before he disappeared. "I've never seen any one like that. Harry, you were like his son. And then... you were gone. Everything fell apart after that," she'd said. Harry shrugged.
"Yeah, but Voldemort was gone too." She had nothing to say to that.
So he waited here for her every night. He never looked for her because she came from a different place each night. Instead he kept his eyes fixed on Hagrid's poem. It was a muggle poem Harry had read once in grammar school.
In Flanders field the poppies blow
If he closed his eyes he could almost see the huge man bent over the stone carving the words into the solid stone.
Between the crosses, row and row, That mark our place; and in the sky
His hands were bloody from scraping against the stone and the scent of the wasted blood filled the air. Drops of it fell to the floor staining it crimson. But it was a stain long ago worn away by the feet of a thousand years.
The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.
The feet of mourners at first. Then it was students who came to catch a quiet moment before a test or big game. Back before Quidditch was abolished and Broomball was introduced. Safer they called it. Ha! But Harry couldn't bring himself to care that much. Quidditch was a part of his dead past. It was only fitting that the game should be dead as well. And then came the groups who held parties here away from the eyes of students and teachers alike. It was the idealistic young couples looking for a place to loose everything their parents had worked to protect. Innocence, intelligence. Everything Harry felt he had always been denied in life but was expected to have here and now. Now...
We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
He could see still the sun out in the sky above him. It mocked him. A defiant symbol of what he could not have while it still shown. They could have spent their days together but Ginny put that idea down. "Even I need time to sleep. Why sleep at night when in day I can do nothing?" so he waited...
Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Closing his eyes the sight of Hagrid still bent over the stone disappeared. He could see the students walking through here on the day of its unveiling. It was five years after his death. The older students were reverent. They remember him from school. A few still had pictures that Colin had taken of him. But the younger students held no such memories. They walked through without stopping to brush a hand along his name in a finale greeting or wipe a tear of sorrow. Harry understood the felling It was not their fight. It never had been. He'd have acted the same.
Opening his eyes he focused on the last stanza of the poem. It was sloppier then the rest. As if Hagrid's massive body had been racked with massive sobs. Harry wasn't sure how to feel about the mourning. No one should have to know how they were mourned. But that was the whole point wasn't it?
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.
It was a beautiful poem and Harry could see that it, more than any other part of the stone cenotaph, was worn hard by time and tears. Beneath it, a newer, surer hand had written:
And there was no sleep for the mighty warrior ever after.
Harry suspected it must have been Ginny who had written it but neither of them ever mentioned it. The subject of the monument in general was pretty much taboo. It was a constant reminder that the whole thing wasn't ever ment to be. That he was still supposed to be dead and the fact that they were together was never meant to happen. Not like this. Not Ever.
It was still bright out but the first tinges of pink had begun to mist the low hung clouds when it happened. Like a great rush of air it seemed as if every bird in the forbidden forest took flight at once. A great crashing sound pounded in his ears and he could see the students in the class all turn their heads as one to see what was happening. A few looked to him for an explanation but he was just as baffled.
Looking to the trees the could see dim shapes moving towards them. Some looked like men and others were clearly not. A man streaked out of the forest near by and past Harry in a blur. Something in the way he moved told Harry he wasn't human. Werewolf. The word stuck itself to his brain like a bur and would not let go. Harry accepted it. He had no choice. The entire clan of them were now streaming out of the forest. With them came the unicorns and so many other magical creatures that Harry found himself slightly baffled at them all. What could have made them al so frightened that they would chose to abandon their safe haven of the impenetrable wood? Was the battle he'd been brought here to fight finally upon him?
Getting up he joined the students in their dash for the castle. No one questioned it. He saw a girl burst in the front doors and in moments the rest of the warriors were assembled on the lawn along with him. They watched as pale shapes, vampires, moved long the edge of the woods unable to flee for the sunlight still above them. No, wait. They weren't frightened. Or at least, they didn't seem to be. They were not trying to flee.
"They're waiting for us," said some one behind him. One of the girls.
"It must be Radames. Isn't he the one controlling the vampires?" Harry felt himself nodding. It was too soon. HE didn't know whether to welcome the impending fight for fear it.
"Where's Beneyt?" asked a weak voice to his left.
"Where else? Hiding." It was Marcus. Harsh as always.
"As we should be. We aren't ready for this."
"Shut up, Max!" Dane shouted. "Fuck you! We can do this!"
Weland gave a nod. "We have nothing to fear but fear itself," he quoted.
"Unless they have dementors," said Harry muttered.
"No. He's right. We have nothing left to lose." The all nodded at Xira's words. The light had gone from the sky now. The vampires had left the sanctity of the forest and were advancing on them. Marcus grinned.
"I was born for this." And then they attacked. The vampires, not the warriors. They surged upon them and it was all harry could do to keep curses firing from his wand. At some point, Ginny joined him along with many of the teachers and a few of the older students who trembled at more than anything. Rumor flew that there were people on the way but on one put much stock in it.
"Stop!" Cried a booming voice from behind the lines of Vampires. They did and the defenders of light took the opportunity to fire curses. But then a wary silence fell over them. "I said to stop," it siad. The vampires parted ranks and a tall cloaked figure stepped forth. "So, this is what Beneyt sends to take me down with? Children and old men." Harry could see yellow eyes glinting from beneath the hood and repressed as shudder. "Kill them," said Ramames dismissively.
And the battle began anew. Harry fired every curse he knew from leg- locker curses to fire spells. HE drew the line only at the unforgivalbles not even sure they would work on the army of undead minions before him. They were so weak in some areas and so very strong in others. Harry tried to remember everything he'd learned in his first year of Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. It wasn't much. Decapitate them, burn them, stake them, or hit them with sunlight.
It hit Harry at the same time as a few of the others came to the same realization. "Solarus!" cried out the voices. A light brighter than any natural day flooded the area and the flames of burning and smoldering vampires only added to it. But the light was not far reaching enough Xira screamed in frustration. She began to swear at them. She hurled curses faster than any of them. Harry watched in a numb fascination as she and the others fought as though they had nothing left to live for. They were reckless and Harry knew they'd be dead within hours if this kept up. And so would he if he kept standing there doing nothing. He fired one curse after another in the general direction of the vampires.
Few of the blood sucking fiends fell but those that did were certainly not dead. They shuddered and convulsed on the grass. Ramames watched from the back of his heard. His eyes were cold and hard and his face impassive. Even Voldemort, at the height of his powers, had been unable to match that cold facade. He had been temperamental and lost his temper easily. Not so this being. The new breed of evil was everything he should have been.
With a single shouted order that none of the warriors heard, every vampire on the feild froze. Xira took the pause of action to act and together, she and Marcus shouted something and a wall of fire burst from their wands. It shut the warriors off from the vampires quite effectively. "What the hell did you do that for!?" Weland shouted.
"We couldn't have gone on much longer could we?" Marcus retorted. Weland made as if to punch the other man but Max grabbed his hand.
"Don't touch me," he sneered.
Then suddenly the wall flickered and went out and the vampires surged forwards once more. Harry froze. The bastards all came at him at once. They surrounded the warriors and Harry knew they were far out numbered.
The vampire on Harry's left attacked first. It lunged at Harry's throat and he ducked. Wincing as a sharp stone buried itself deep in the flesh of his knee when he hit the ground, he felt something slam into him. It was the vampire as it tripped over his now prone body. Then, in the most ungraceful way possible, the vampire landed sprawled spread eagle across Harry taking two more vampires near-by down with it. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as the broken face right next to him came sharply into focus.
The face was ugly to say the very least. It was grotesque in the extreme. Its fangs had broken through its bottom lip in the fall and one of them was broken in several places leaving shards of white scattered on the ground. It's eyes were red with blood which poured from a cut someplace in the hair and the creature looked almost pitiful to Harry.
The two other vampires on top of this sad creature before him both scrambled to their feet. The leader of the two tried to kick Harry in the ribs but the young man rolled out of his way. In a moment he was on his feet with his wand at the ready. The leader charged at him again with its fangs barred and his claw-like hands groping at Harry's thin body in his eagerness to rip him limb from limb. Harry braced himself. He planted his feet and clutched his wand so hard his knuckles turned white. He clenched his jaw so hard his face was drawn into a sever frown. But nothing happened. The beast suddenly burst into a cloud of dust and Harry looked up in surprise to see Max standing there with a wooden stake.
Harry's eyes grew even wider as he saw the other vampire coming up quickly behind the other warrior. Max didn't know it was there. The creature bit hard into Max's neck. Harry watched Max's knees buckle as he struggled to fight the beast off. Then Harry sent himself into action. He burst forwards and grabbed the shirt of the vampire who dropped Max to the ground. Its eyes glinted and Harry felt his blood chill .Letting go of the spoiled cloth, he backed up only to hit another vampire. Suddenly he had two of them coming at him.
With a whispered prayer he drove one end of his wand into the chest of the one in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Max get back on his feet and he nodded at harry. Together they cried out the same spell as the group had before and the weaker light spread out killing any vampires within ten feet. Xira looked up at them from near-by and together the three of them moved to the edge of the cleared circle and cried out the spell again. This time the light spread further.
But as they were preparing to move further into the thick of things to cast the spell again, Ramamdes shouted for silence. "You are the best that they could come up with?" He sneered at the warriors before him. "Children and queers the lot of you." He looked around. Dane looked murderous as did the others. "I have seen what I need to now." And with a wave of his hands the vampires began to leave for the forest. The warriors began to chase them down with spells still flying but Ramamdes turned and put up another wall of fair to block their path. "Thank you for the idea Ms. Newt," his voice cam through the flames. And they were gone. The first battle was over.
And when at last they had gone compleatly the flames died leaving a brunt line on the grass. The warriors then began the task of killing those left behind. Marcus and Weland made it a competition to see who could stake the most calling numbers out across the silent feild. The sound of their voices rang empty of any emotion in the air which was stale with the scent of blood and ash.
"Nineteen."
"Twenty-three."
"Twenty-one."
"Twenty-nine."
"Twenty-five."
"Thirty-four."
But no one else said anything. The silence pressed on Harry's lungs. Ginny, working beside him, smiled but was careful not to let her fangs show for which he was grateful. It was important to forget for the moment that he was shagging a vampire no different from those he was killing as he worked.
When every last one of the vampires (save for Ginny) was reduced to a pile of dust and the counting of the two men had died to silence, the warriors began to pick up fallen things and head back to the castle but one remained. Harry stopped to ask if she was all right but the words didn't have the chance to leave his mouth. Elyzabel turned to him with fear plain as day on her face. Fear and confusion.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was a lie. A mistake. All of it. Don't you get it?" She was panicked now. "Oh God, Harry. It was horrible. All those people dead. Each and every one of them..." She shook her head and her long hair fell forward to hide her scars. She reached up and took her hair in her hand. "I was just an outsider, Harry. I always was. I didn't want this. Don't you get it?"
"I know," he said slowly. "I get it. I'm sure that every one-"
"-No! You don't know. You can't know! I wasn't supposed to be here! It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I was suppose to die and let every one else take all the glory! I.... was supposed to be ignored... I... I remember now... "
A/n: Ok so now that I've finished I'll tell you that it's been done for a while now. But it sucked. Ok! So, next chapter: we find out about Milana. What? She's already dead? *Laughs* But please leave a review anyways. Already dead... *Shakes head* Sorry. Just wait... *Laughs some more*
Chapter Six: First Blood
Summery: Harry Potter was a Legend and Legends have a way of echoing down through the years. People love and admire their legends. But what happens when that admiration is coupled with desperation? It sets Legends like Harry Potter off on a Journey they should never have taken.
Rating:R
Spoilers: Follows the books up to fourth book. I may change it to fit t he fifth boook once it comes out. We shall see.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. JKR does. She is a godess ect. I'll love her more when I get my hands on OotP
***
It had been a long month since that Slytherin had killed herself in the tower at Halloween. Monica found it hard to believe what had happened. After they'd come back, things had progressed in an insanely slow moving blur. They were made aware of so may things! There had been long cold nights alone in her room where all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep and never ever wake up. But that didn't seem very likely anymore.
Things had not been good among the warriors. Dane and Max had some how gotten the job of teaching the students. There was a rumor going round the rest of them that Max had suggested it to the impressionable Beneyt because he wanted to have just that much more chance to make fun of the other man. Sad really. Sad that it had even come to this. But she had to admit, at least the students were paying attention. She had come to a few classes and been very impressed. When she was in school, they never listened to their teachers!
But so many things had changed. To think, a vampire and a seventeen year old! Granted, Harry Potter had known her since they were ten and eleven respectively but Monica still had a hard time wrapping her mind around it. The other woman scared her in a way the Monica had once thought she was above. Her eyes held so much pain and fear that Monica would find herself wondering what had happened to make her look at the world like that. Ginny and Harry would disappear for long periods of time. No one knew where they went or what they discussed but Monica thought it was lucky that at least one of them had some one to turn to. God knew none of the rest of them did. Marcus never failed to make a crude remark about vampires and/or sex but most people ignored them now. It's not like any one didn't know about them.
But every one was starting to pull their own weight. The pain of being forced back into being had not disappeared. It was only easier to ignore now. They kept busy. That helped. Helping to teach classes or patrolling for strange activity at night. A few spent afternoons in the library though whether they researched the fate of family and friends long dead or the raising darkness, no one could say.
That was another thing. Monica could feel the evil magics in the air here. It was the same air she had breathed all seven years that she had gone to Hogwarts but it was older some how. Staler and the wind carried screams for mercy from voices long silenced by pain.. The students here seemed to not notice it any more but the warriors certainly did. Xira said it was like having some one pulling each of your hairs from your head as you slept. "I know what that's like to. They did it to my lover." And that's all that she would say about it.
Xira was one person Monica couldn't decide if she wanted to get to know her better or run and hide whenever she was ear. Weland and Dane seemed to think she was like a flower they needed to protect. She resented that. Monica had heard that she's been a supporter of dark forces in her time. Then she turned spy and they killed her boyfriend in front of her. It too them two weeks and then they started in on her. There was something in her eyes that made a person's blood run cold.
But they were a far cry from what had been expected of them. They were not perfect or all knowing. They had not ended the war within moments of waking. They had been so heart-breakingly human that it seemed almost as if they had failed in bringing them back. But all of that was about to be tested.
***
The students of the seventh year Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Care of Magical creatures class was slowly becoming used to seeing Harry watching their class. He sat inside the monument with his name on it and waited. They had the last class of the day and now that the days were becoming longer and longer, it was dark by the time that it ended. The girls of the class watched the enigma out of the corner of their eyes. But he almost didn't see them. His eyes were locked straight ahead on the poem etched firmly into the wall.
It had been done by some one with crude penmanship and was obviously not part of the original design. Ginny told him that Hagrid had etched it there. Before he disappeared. "I've never seen any one like that. Harry, you were like his son. And then... you were gone. Everything fell apart after that," she'd said. Harry shrugged.
"Yeah, but Voldemort was gone too." She had nothing to say to that.
So he waited here for her every night. He never looked for her because she came from a different place each night. Instead he kept his eyes fixed on Hagrid's poem. It was a muggle poem Harry had read once in grammar school.
In Flanders field the poppies blow
If he closed his eyes he could almost see the huge man bent over the stone carving the words into the solid stone.
Between the crosses, row and row, That mark our place; and in the sky
His hands were bloody from scraping against the stone and the scent of the wasted blood filled the air. Drops of it fell to the floor staining it crimson. But it was a stain long ago worn away by the feet of a thousand years.
The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.
The feet of mourners at first. Then it was students who came to catch a quiet moment before a test or big game. Back before Quidditch was abolished and Broomball was introduced. Safer they called it. Ha! But Harry couldn't bring himself to care that much. Quidditch was a part of his dead past. It was only fitting that the game should be dead as well. And then came the groups who held parties here away from the eyes of students and teachers alike. It was the idealistic young couples looking for a place to loose everything their parents had worked to protect. Innocence, intelligence. Everything Harry felt he had always been denied in life but was expected to have here and now. Now...
We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
He could see still the sun out in the sky above him. It mocked him. A defiant symbol of what he could not have while it still shown. They could have spent their days together but Ginny put that idea down. "Even I need time to sleep. Why sleep at night when in day I can do nothing?" so he waited...
Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Closing his eyes the sight of Hagrid still bent over the stone disappeared. He could see the students walking through here on the day of its unveiling. It was five years after his death. The older students were reverent. They remember him from school. A few still had pictures that Colin had taken of him. But the younger students held no such memories. They walked through without stopping to brush a hand along his name in a finale greeting or wipe a tear of sorrow. Harry understood the felling It was not their fight. It never had been. He'd have acted the same.
Opening his eyes he focused on the last stanza of the poem. It was sloppier then the rest. As if Hagrid's massive body had been racked with massive sobs. Harry wasn't sure how to feel about the mourning. No one should have to know how they were mourned. But that was the whole point wasn't it?
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.
It was a beautiful poem and Harry could see that it, more than any other part of the stone cenotaph, was worn hard by time and tears. Beneath it, a newer, surer hand had written:
And there was no sleep for the mighty warrior ever after.
Harry suspected it must have been Ginny who had written it but neither of them ever mentioned it. The subject of the monument in general was pretty much taboo. It was a constant reminder that the whole thing wasn't ever ment to be. That he was still supposed to be dead and the fact that they were together was never meant to happen. Not like this. Not Ever.
It was still bright out but the first tinges of pink had begun to mist the low hung clouds when it happened. Like a great rush of air it seemed as if every bird in the forbidden forest took flight at once. A great crashing sound pounded in his ears and he could see the students in the class all turn their heads as one to see what was happening. A few looked to him for an explanation but he was just as baffled.
Looking to the trees the could see dim shapes moving towards them. Some looked like men and others were clearly not. A man streaked out of the forest near by and past Harry in a blur. Something in the way he moved told Harry he wasn't human. Werewolf. The word stuck itself to his brain like a bur and would not let go. Harry accepted it. He had no choice. The entire clan of them were now streaming out of the forest. With them came the unicorns and so many other magical creatures that Harry found himself slightly baffled at them all. What could have made them al so frightened that they would chose to abandon their safe haven of the impenetrable wood? Was the battle he'd been brought here to fight finally upon him?
Getting up he joined the students in their dash for the castle. No one questioned it. He saw a girl burst in the front doors and in moments the rest of the warriors were assembled on the lawn along with him. They watched as pale shapes, vampires, moved long the edge of the woods unable to flee for the sunlight still above them. No, wait. They weren't frightened. Or at least, they didn't seem to be. They were not trying to flee.
"They're waiting for us," said some one behind him. One of the girls.
"It must be Radames. Isn't he the one controlling the vampires?" Harry felt himself nodding. It was too soon. HE didn't know whether to welcome the impending fight for fear it.
"Where's Beneyt?" asked a weak voice to his left.
"Where else? Hiding." It was Marcus. Harsh as always.
"As we should be. We aren't ready for this."
"Shut up, Max!" Dane shouted. "Fuck you! We can do this!"
Weland gave a nod. "We have nothing to fear but fear itself," he quoted.
"Unless they have dementors," said Harry muttered.
"No. He's right. We have nothing left to lose." The all nodded at Xira's words. The light had gone from the sky now. The vampires had left the sanctity of the forest and were advancing on them. Marcus grinned.
"I was born for this." And then they attacked. The vampires, not the warriors. They surged upon them and it was all harry could do to keep curses firing from his wand. At some point, Ginny joined him along with many of the teachers and a few of the older students who trembled at more than anything. Rumor flew that there were people on the way but on one put much stock in it.
"Stop!" Cried a booming voice from behind the lines of Vampires. They did and the defenders of light took the opportunity to fire curses. But then a wary silence fell over them. "I said to stop," it siad. The vampires parted ranks and a tall cloaked figure stepped forth. "So, this is what Beneyt sends to take me down with? Children and old men." Harry could see yellow eyes glinting from beneath the hood and repressed as shudder. "Kill them," said Ramames dismissively.
And the battle began anew. Harry fired every curse he knew from leg- locker curses to fire spells. HE drew the line only at the unforgivalbles not even sure they would work on the army of undead minions before him. They were so weak in some areas and so very strong in others. Harry tried to remember everything he'd learned in his first year of Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. It wasn't much. Decapitate them, burn them, stake them, or hit them with sunlight.
It hit Harry at the same time as a few of the others came to the same realization. "Solarus!" cried out the voices. A light brighter than any natural day flooded the area and the flames of burning and smoldering vampires only added to it. But the light was not far reaching enough Xira screamed in frustration. She began to swear at them. She hurled curses faster than any of them. Harry watched in a numb fascination as she and the others fought as though they had nothing left to live for. They were reckless and Harry knew they'd be dead within hours if this kept up. And so would he if he kept standing there doing nothing. He fired one curse after another in the general direction of the vampires.
Few of the blood sucking fiends fell but those that did were certainly not dead. They shuddered and convulsed on the grass. Ramames watched from the back of his heard. His eyes were cold and hard and his face impassive. Even Voldemort, at the height of his powers, had been unable to match that cold facade. He had been temperamental and lost his temper easily. Not so this being. The new breed of evil was everything he should have been.
With a single shouted order that none of the warriors heard, every vampire on the feild froze. Xira took the pause of action to act and together, she and Marcus shouted something and a wall of fire burst from their wands. It shut the warriors off from the vampires quite effectively. "What the hell did you do that for!?" Weland shouted.
"We couldn't have gone on much longer could we?" Marcus retorted. Weland made as if to punch the other man but Max grabbed his hand.
"Don't touch me," he sneered.
Then suddenly the wall flickered and went out and the vampires surged forwards once more. Harry froze. The bastards all came at him at once. They surrounded the warriors and Harry knew they were far out numbered.
The vampire on Harry's left attacked first. It lunged at Harry's throat and he ducked. Wincing as a sharp stone buried itself deep in the flesh of his knee when he hit the ground, he felt something slam into him. It was the vampire as it tripped over his now prone body. Then, in the most ungraceful way possible, the vampire landed sprawled spread eagle across Harry taking two more vampires near-by down with it. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as the broken face right next to him came sharply into focus.
The face was ugly to say the very least. It was grotesque in the extreme. Its fangs had broken through its bottom lip in the fall and one of them was broken in several places leaving shards of white scattered on the ground. It's eyes were red with blood which poured from a cut someplace in the hair and the creature looked almost pitiful to Harry.
The two other vampires on top of this sad creature before him both scrambled to their feet. The leader of the two tried to kick Harry in the ribs but the young man rolled out of his way. In a moment he was on his feet with his wand at the ready. The leader charged at him again with its fangs barred and his claw-like hands groping at Harry's thin body in his eagerness to rip him limb from limb. Harry braced himself. He planted his feet and clutched his wand so hard his knuckles turned white. He clenched his jaw so hard his face was drawn into a sever frown. But nothing happened. The beast suddenly burst into a cloud of dust and Harry looked up in surprise to see Max standing there with a wooden stake.
Harry's eyes grew even wider as he saw the other vampire coming up quickly behind the other warrior. Max didn't know it was there. The creature bit hard into Max's neck. Harry watched Max's knees buckle as he struggled to fight the beast off. Then Harry sent himself into action. He burst forwards and grabbed the shirt of the vampire who dropped Max to the ground. Its eyes glinted and Harry felt his blood chill .Letting go of the spoiled cloth, he backed up only to hit another vampire. Suddenly he had two of them coming at him.
With a whispered prayer he drove one end of his wand into the chest of the one in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Max get back on his feet and he nodded at harry. Together they cried out the same spell as the group had before and the weaker light spread out killing any vampires within ten feet. Xira looked up at them from near-by and together the three of them moved to the edge of the cleared circle and cried out the spell again. This time the light spread further.
But as they were preparing to move further into the thick of things to cast the spell again, Ramamdes shouted for silence. "You are the best that they could come up with?" He sneered at the warriors before him. "Children and queers the lot of you." He looked around. Dane looked murderous as did the others. "I have seen what I need to now." And with a wave of his hands the vampires began to leave for the forest. The warriors began to chase them down with spells still flying but Ramamdes turned and put up another wall of fair to block their path. "Thank you for the idea Ms. Newt," his voice cam through the flames. And they were gone. The first battle was over.
And when at last they had gone compleatly the flames died leaving a brunt line on the grass. The warriors then began the task of killing those left behind. Marcus and Weland made it a competition to see who could stake the most calling numbers out across the silent feild. The sound of their voices rang empty of any emotion in the air which was stale with the scent of blood and ash.
"Nineteen."
"Twenty-three."
"Twenty-one."
"Twenty-nine."
"Twenty-five."
"Thirty-four."
But no one else said anything. The silence pressed on Harry's lungs. Ginny, working beside him, smiled but was careful not to let her fangs show for which he was grateful. It was important to forget for the moment that he was shagging a vampire no different from those he was killing as he worked.
When every last one of the vampires (save for Ginny) was reduced to a pile of dust and the counting of the two men had died to silence, the warriors began to pick up fallen things and head back to the castle but one remained. Harry stopped to ask if she was all right but the words didn't have the chance to leave his mouth. Elyzabel turned to him with fear plain as day on her face. Fear and confusion.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was a lie. A mistake. All of it. Don't you get it?" She was panicked now. "Oh God, Harry. It was horrible. All those people dead. Each and every one of them..." She shook her head and her long hair fell forward to hide her scars. She reached up and took her hair in her hand. "I was just an outsider, Harry. I always was. I didn't want this. Don't you get it?"
"I know," he said slowly. "I get it. I'm sure that every one-"
"-No! You don't know. You can't know! I wasn't supposed to be here! It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I was suppose to die and let every one else take all the glory! I.... was supposed to be ignored... I... I remember now... "
A/n: Ok so now that I've finished I'll tell you that it's been done for a while now. But it sucked. Ok! So, next chapter: we find out about Milana. What? She's already dead? *Laughs* But please leave a review anyways. Already dead... *Shakes head* Sorry. Just wait... *Laughs some more*