Chapter 28 In the Heat of Battle (Tobias)

            My name is Tobias.

            And I was flying over a Yeerk Pool I had just discovered existed.

            Havoc reigned below me. I had to dodge a few wild jinxes. I caught sight of a man with long mousy brown hair with gray streaks jugging down the contents of a goblet, tossing it aside, and charging into the battle with his wand raised. I saw a young woman with purple hair and a heart-shaped face taking on five Controllers. I watched with amazement as two red-haired people who could only be Ron's parents fighting the onslaught of Hork-Bajir.

            Jake had leapt into the battle and was fighting three Taxxons at a time. Rachel was at his side, attacking those who came at his unprotected back. Cassie and Marco were at the other side of the room. Ax was at the center, tail flashing. He looked exhausted but that didn't seem to slow him down.

            It was, after all, the day before the full moon.

            Shrieking my best red-tailed shriek, I dived. I slashed at the eyes of a Hork-Bajir with my talons. It bellowed in pain and tried to get at me with its wrist blades but I was all ready gone, diving at a Controller.

            When I rose above the chaos I caught sight of Harry. He had a wand that, as I could tell with my superb sight, wasn't his. His face was flushed with anger. His eyes had a maniac spark of determination in them. I looked over to see whom he was battling and nearly fell out of the air.

            He has got to be the most ugly man I have ever seen. He had no hair to speak of. His eyes were blood red with black slits for pupils. He had two slits for nostrils, like a snake. He was sheet white. I doubt he could get a tan if he tried. His lipless mouth was curled into a sneer. He was tall and lean and moved like a shadow.  His hands were like large, pale, five-legged spiders.

            This could only be the infamous Lord Voldemort.

            I took a closer look at Harry. Now I could see that his teeth were gritted in pain. He was falling back. His spells were becoming feeble. He needed someone to help him… and quickly!

            Harry! I called.

            He looked wildly over his shoulder and up. He nodded at me and returned to his battle. Harry, listen. I need to acquire you. It'll help you. I'll help you.

            "Fine!" he yelled, "Distraction!"

            I sighed inwardly and dived. There was a good chance Voldemort could hit me in midair. Thankfully, he was tangled with Harry and couldn't get me. I raked his bare head with my talons, drawing blood that had an almost metallic glint to it.

            He bellowed in pain, buying me time to go acquire Harry. He became impassive for a moment, but quickly snapped back to himself. He shouted a spell at Voldemort that caused the vile man to fly backward.

            I landed and quickly morphed. I sprouted to about five feet five inches. My feathers melted and became skin. My eyesight dimmed and became even worse than a normal human's. I swore silently when I realized he was nearsighted. I fingered the morphing outfit that appeared along with my skin with melting feather-fingers. Wild, jet-black hair grew on my shifting head. A tingling sensation filled my chest. I numbly got to my feet. That's when the pain started.

            It hit with such force that I forgot to cry out. My head felt like it was splitting in half! It was nearly blinding. My knees buckled and collapsed.

            How could Harry stand it?

            I felt something flutter down around me. I dumbly felt it. It was Harry's robes. I quickly shrugged into them. Beside me I found a pair of glasses. I fumbled to open them and shoved them on. Everything became clear. He pulled me to my feet. I blinked in confusion. He was wearing glasses too.

            He saw my puzzled look. "An extra pair," he grunted as he dropped to avoid a curse that came his way.

            I gasped and dodged a spell that came flying at me. I was shocked to feel how quickly and smoothly I moved. He had amazing reflexes!

            Harry was on his feet again. I scrambled up and stood next to him. "Hey, Voldemort! Which one of us is the real Harry?"

            Voldemort literally shook with rage. He pointed a wand at me and roared a spell, the look on his face etched into the word "imposter". I tried to dodge but it was too late. The scarlet light caught me full in the chest.

            I screamed without hearing it. I could barely feel it in my throat. My eyes rolled up into my head. My back arched. I kicked wildly. It was horrible! It felt like that, instead of blood, fire coursed through my veins. My head felt like it was going to explode. The agony was so great that I wanted to die, just to put an end to it…

            It ended as abruptly as it had started. I was suddenly able to see again. My throat was raw. I ached all over. My limbs felt like lead.

            Harry started to drag me to my feet. I nodded my thanks and staggered upright. As I looked into his haunted eyes, I wondered how many times he had undergone that torture.

            We sprang apart when a curse flew at us. With identical movements, we rolled and got to our feet. As Harry yelled a spell, I lunged. I hit Voldemort full in the chest. The spell grazed my hair and singed it. The pain in my head—my scar, I realized later—had reached such a pitch that I couldn't think clearly.

I swung my fist wildly and caught his jaw. He snarled in fury. I grabbed his wand arm and tried to wrestle the three from him.

This was no easy feat. Though he didn't look it, Voldemort was really very strong. He tried to toss me aside but I clutched his arm in a death grip. I wrapped my wingers around the three wands. Behind of me I was vaguely aware of Harry screaming, "Accio wands!"

I yelled in shock as I flew backward, still holding the wands. I fell midway through the journey. I saw Harry catch the wands and grin manically. He picked one from the bunch and tossed it to me. I caught it and looked down, suddenly confused. Why was Harry throwing me his wand?

I looked at him and realized he was holding a wand identical to the one I was holding however beat up his was. I knew by glance that this couldn't be Dumbledore's wand. It could only be Voldemort's.

            Harry turned to Voldemort, wand pointed at the man's chest. He jerked his head. "Up."

            Voldemort slowly got to his feet. Something in the way he looked at us made me realize he was calculating his next plans. Be ready for him to do something, I said in private thought-speak.

            He dipped his head in a nod. I felt—felt—a surge of hatred from Voldemort. Harry and I cried out in pain. I nearly dropped my wand. It hurt!

            Harry's knees buckled and he fell. I looked over with wide eyes. Maybe—just maybe—the pain was stronger for him because he was the real Harry.

            I waved my wand, closed my eyes, and said the first spell that came to mind: "Expecto Patronum!"

            I don't know why I shouted that particular one. I think it might because it was one of the last spells I had seen Harry do. Silver mist issued from the tip of my wand. In the mist I made out a vague shape that looked almost like…

            "Andalite?" demanded Voldemort, stopping and raising his eyebrows.

            "Andalite?" croaked Harry in puzzlement.

            "Andalite?" I wondered with awe.

            Voldemort laughed a shrill, high-pitched laugh that sent a chill down my spine. He threw his head back and roared his laughter to the ceiling. Harry and I glanced at each other. We didn't see what was so hysterically funny.

            "You fool!" crowed Voldemort, grinning manically at me. "Don't you realize what you've done?"

            I stood and gaped open-mouthed at him.

            "You've given yourself away. Now I know which one is the real Harry Potter. Have you never seen his Patronus? It is a stag. Now you—you clearly are one of the Andalite bandits." He smiled thinly. "Or a human posing as an Andalite bandit."

            I carefully wiped all trace of emotion off my face, just like Ax would have done. "You have guessed correctly, Lord Voldemort. I am one of the Andalite bandits."

            Voldemort's nostrils flared, as if he smelled something horrible. His eyes narrowed and he hissed, "Liar."

            I felt my heart leap into my throat. Was he guessing or did he know?

            And if he knew, how did he know?

            "Incendio!"

            I whirled to see who had said the spell. Hermione stood beside Harry, wand pointed. Voldemort's robes were on fire. He hissed and beat the flames out.

            I quickly threw off Harry's robes. Sorry, I told them both in private thought-speak, but I have to go help the others. Good luck.

            I rapidly demorphed back to red-tailed hawk. As soon as I had, I flapped off into the air.

            I looked down to see the fifteen-year-old boy, who was my age but older in so many ways, fighting the man who had killed his parents and best friend. He had tears in his eyes. Of what? Sorrow? Gratitude? Relief?

            As I watched him, though I didn't voice it, I wished him the best of luck from deep in my heart.

            And that seemed to be just the thing he needed.

A/N: Sorry it's not that long, but I have plans for the next chapter and I can't wait to write them down. Yes, to all those who noticed, I have changed my penname to: Siriusly Padfoot 12. Remember, no book 5 spoilers in the reviews. I know that if you have read the book you know why Voldemort can tell fib from truth. Sssh!

Stick around for my next chapter: "Chapter 29: The Living Undead (Hermione)". Hmmm, what happens in next chapter, you wonder? Hmm…