The Giant-Man
It was painfully cold and the stars were dead.
I didn't mind the chill so much, or the wind, as I had warmed up quite a bit in the process of getting there. But the stars, the absolute blackness of the sky around a clear, bright moon was unnerving. When we had been in the mountains, two summers before, the moon had been this bright. But there had been stars as well, ten thousand stars. I shook myself, droplets of the tea I hadn't cleaned out of my beard catching the light before they died. Like the stars.
I wasn't supposed to come, I was supposed to stay with Harry, but Harry had come, and I had followed. He was at the peak of the great hill before me, a hill taller even than I was. There were flashes of light, red, blue, green, and white. I couldn't hear what they were saying. A sliver of silver flashed behind them, aimed at the mausoleum at the back of the crown of the hill. I tried to see what lay within, but the moonlight cast a flaming reflection of whiteness, around which all was black. As the moon rose the shadows lessened, silver fire spreading into the stone chamber. Laughter echoed in my ears, high and frigid. Tom was there, there with Harry. I immediately threw a foot out at the base of the hill, intent on climbing, but a small voice reached my ears.
"You know you can do nothing," it whispered, soft and loving, but broken. I flung my head around at the sound. She was right, I could do nothing, I could do nothing to the Dark Lord unless he managed to conquer Harry. All desire to do something, to help, evaporated from my soul at this thought. I stepped around the headstone which had spoken to me.
"Molly?!"
She threw a finger up to her lips, but it was too late. I had thought I knew misery when I realized I could do nothing. Then I realized I could do this… The Death Eaters were closing in, separated from the hooded dementors by grave masks and drawn wands. They had heard me, seen me. I glanced at Molly, her lightly lined face now wide with horror, her eyes dull and clouded with thoughts I would never know. She looked so helpless all of a sudden. She didn't belong here either; she had probably come to save Ron, Ron who had come with Harry. And Hermione, where was she? Molly's tears replaced the stars with their light, here on earth where things as beautiful as stars are quick to die. Her fingers where white against the cold rock of the headstone she was clutching, her red hair swept up in a wind I didn't have time to feel. The light swishing of cloaks pulled my gaze toward a dozen figures, slipping from behind tombstones and down the hill like shadows.
Instinct lifted my foot and set it back down again. Now I was standing in front of Molly, Molly who they hadn't seen, Molly who they may have missed. I shook the thought from my head. Only one of them was mask-less, only one dementor. I didn't have a wand though, or my umbrella. I had nothing. A Stunning Spell stung my leg like an idle bee. I had something, I had giant blood. My size may have damned Molly, but it may yet save her.
First I struck the nearest of them, a Death Eater who had hesitated. And then the next. I tried to remain between them and Molly, simultaneously pulverizing every inch of them available to me. A crackling breath distracted me long enough for another fool to attempt a Stunning Spell. I heard the rush of water in my ears, I heard the memories I had shut out for so long. Rubeus, your father…
My fire was back in an instant when I heard his voice. He wasn't here; I didn't know where he would be, but Dumbledore's voice gave me strength. Maybe even a touch too much of it. Another Death Eater fell, this one crashing against a headstone. His mask was around his neck, a pure whiteness against black, a tragic look. A splay of silvery gold hair hugged his pale chin. His frigid silver eyes were wide as his last breath was forced out, not unlike the rattling sound of the dementor. I silently cursed Lucius as I took out my wrath on the remaining figures, now cut down to four. Molly was sobbing. Another one fell. I felt small hands clutching at my hip in horror, following me, shielded behind me. Another Death Eater fell in a bloody heap. I heard a whisper, but I didn't know what she was saying. The last two fell as one, a massive fist crushing one's skull and sending him flying into his neighbor. Molly's hands accidentally passed frightfully over an area of mangled flesh. Some curse had hit its mark.
I turned to look at her. She was white now, her hair looked like blood against her pale face. When had she gotten this thin? But there was no time to wonder. I tried to keep her behind me, tried to save her with the mass that had damned her. They had found her, because of me. She might have been spared.
"No!" I growled it aloud.
No, I saved her. I saved her. I had killed for Molly now, killed perhaps a dozen thin forms. The dementor was gone. I felt salty tears against my arm. She was hanging off me now. I closed my hand around her upper arm. Her wand lay forgotten under the arm of a fallen servant of the Dark Lord. Tom was laughing. A thousand sounds suddenly pressed in on me as I realized I could hear. Tom was laughing, someone was whispering. Molly was sobbing and Harry was screaming. Neville was here too. He didn't belong here. I heard a woman's shrill and grating laugh, and another roar. Another flash of silver struck the mausoleum, and I distinctly heard the crunch of ancient stone. Someone choked.
I no longer felt the pressure of Molly's arm. I looked around at her and she was standing, immobile, her arms at her sides. A flash of red streaked right in front of us, unseeing.
"YOU RAT!"
The figure leapt right over the last of the fallen Death Eaters and halted halfway up the hill, poised on its slope. He stared at the mausoleum, his eyes boring into the open, moonlight door. He turned his thin face toward us but stopped before his eyes could meet his mother's. The last Death Eater lifted his head to look at him. Macnair. He caught my eye and I moved to draw Molly behind me again. His mouth was moving; I didn't need to read those twisted lips. I felt hell closing around me. She scratched my arm sharply.
"RON!"
I felt my arm fly out at Molly as the light exploded from his wand. I was daring it to hit me, to test giant-blood against the curse of death. Someone was screaming. My arm was searing. I hadn't expected pain. I fell over to my left, my leg twisting awkwardly as my knees hit the sickly, rotten ground. It was either Molly or me that gasped as the green light cast eerie shadows I didn't have the time to see…
And time froze as the world ended.
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~*~ A/N- The world ending still isn't death. Yes, Ron attacked Peter and lost his hand. Yes, Molly jumped out to stop him. No, I am not going to tell you who actually does die here. You will have to see for yourself. Up next is The Gryffindor. Enjoy! ~*~