Chapter 19 – Return of Madness
McGonagall ducked as another stray shell breached the shield and exploded, sending ricocheting pieces of debris flying in all directions. The accompanying screams and wails of the injured echoed in the lulls of action, only to be drowned out once more by the sickening whistle of other shells flying overhead, that had despite all odds, found some obscure weakness in the shield and passed through. She gritted her teeth hard as she struggled to keep a clear mind. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold together the rabble that Snape had brought with him to repel the advance, when the enemy you were fighting didn't need to take a footstep near you. Every now and then when another bone shattering explosion sounded nearby, at least one person would lose their nerve entirely and head for the hills, spreading dissension amongst everyone else. At this rate there would be none left to repel anything before the next half hour was out. Though it was wishful thinking that they might all survive that long even.
Amidst the horrified yells of panic that began to spread throughout the castle ruins, McGonagall shifted uncomfortably. A stiff, ringing in her ears had begun at the noise the shells were making. It was enough to make her want to scream, though nobody would hear in this war zone. Precariously she looked over her rock shelter. Thankfully, the shield was still keeping out the majority of shots the tanks were letting off in the distance, yet they never relented for a second. She could almost feel the hate running through the muggles in those tanks, though they were many meters away.
"Why won't you give us a chance?! Just one!" she thought savagely, gripping the handle of her wand with tension. Snape to her right, eyed her suspiciously, though he was in no position to gawk at anyone, his own neat appearance quickly become haggard and messed the moment he hid behind a rock. Yet no one could accuse him of cowardice, as it was he who often had the urge to look up and see what he was facing. To look his enemy in the eye.
'I'd savor your anger if I were you Minerva,' he spoke in his usual slippery manner, 'Releasing it at an appropriate time will better you more than you know. We're on the back foot already. Half these people here weren't expecting the shield to let a few of those things in.'
McGonagall stared at him with a sort of loss.
'You're right I guess. But then, half these people weren't expecting Hogwarts to be flattened in under an hour either.'
Snape smiled somewhat, and turned back to the field. Rain had turned the green hillside into a sloppy, wet quagmire, and the constant downpour was only making it worse. A cold wind started to blow across the land, clawing at the faces of nervous wizards, chilling them to the bone. Silent prayers of hope were muttered incoherently beneath veiled breaths as the whistling of shells sent shockwaves of horror across the landscape, the ever present sounds of shells crashing into the magical barrier still distinguishable above the suffering of the people trapped within. There was no escape from fate so it seemed. Cold chills of despair swept across the muddied fields with every spiteful breath of air. Though it hardly seemed notable to the witches and wizards hiding behind rocky outcrops, who's fear at being killed seemed to block out all sense of reality as it was. An ominous silence would grip the field every now and then, until just distinguishable above the thuds of distant artillery, a shell would suddenly breach the shield and fly overhead. In all, it promoted the feeling of hell.
Suddenly a long wailing sound engulfed the ruins, piercing eardrums and breaking the apparent silence that had thus far held the field. People held their ears in terror as the wailing seemed to scream all around them from every direction. McGonagall shot a horrified look to Serverus, who looked back just as panic stricken as she. A similar questioning stare barely visible beneath layers of manifesting fear as it continued to wail on. It could have been likened to a Banshee's scream, and the aghast expressions of everyone present could've meant they had suspected the same, all clawing with their hands in a vain attempt to shield their ears from the terrible noise that almost seemed to tear at the fabric of the mind itself, reducing people to huddling lumps on the ground. And as soon as it began, the sound ceased, leaving everyone to look around themselves in utter confusion, all unaware as to where the sound had come.
'What was that?!' Snape asked desperately, his pallid face turning a dull white in fear. McGonagall considered for a moment, staring about herself every which way and that, as though wondering to herself the same thing, until at last her eyes locked onto something above her in the distance, her eyes widening with sudden anxiety. Snape followed her gaze, his mouth dropping open in shock.
'We cannot count on Dumbledore to aid us any longer Serverus…' she spoke in faint tones, small beads of sweat starting to roll down her face, 'We're on our own from now on…'
Snape nodded absently as he turned on his heel and ran, shouting curses and orders this way and that for people to return to their posts, all the while, McGonagall stared fearfully into the distance, her feet not shifting an inch.
In a matter of moments the shield had turned from it's ambient blue shade, to a sickly green hue. It's rippling masses of energy beginning to falter and take on life of their own, often leaping from the shield in sporadic motions, like lightening in a storm, until at last all energy ceased and it dissolved into the air like tears in rain, dispersing itself into the atmosphere. The impassable barrier lost to them, and McGonagall knew that there would be no respite from the battle now. She could almost feel the faces of her enemy brighten with delight as the last remnants of the shield faded remorsefully into the air, as though it had never existed. It never struck her as to why, but her feet remained dug into the sodden mud as she watched the last line of wizard defense disappear, even with Snape pulling at her to pull back to more protected areas of the castle, thoughts ran rampart through her mind. One of those in particular grabbed at her harder than Snape's vain attempts.
"Don't give up Albus!" she thought painfully to herself, "Hang in there…" and she turned and accompanied the potions teacher, just as the muggle tanks began to move, hundreds of soldiers fanning out from behind…
Harry walked cautiously along the stone covered corridors that led towards Slytherin common room, the dust and grime that covered the walls in stretches attracting little attention from the preoccupied teen as his steps echoed in turn with over two hundred other scared and fearful students being led by the nose by Professor Flitwick. With his head bowed in conscious thought, Ron and Hermione who were walking on either side, had long since stopped attempting conversation with him, as it felt to the two that their positive talk was being wasted on a wall of air, that quite obviously didn't feel like talking back. Their own hunched statures portraying the direness of the situation, being forced to take shelter in the common room of the school's most hated house, but Harry's mind was elsewhere, thinking.
Distant thuds of artillery sounded far above, occasionally rocking the corridor's foundations, raising an eyebrow here and there from concerned peers. Harry couldn't help but wonder at what was happening above on the surface. But what he found more disturbing, was the possibility that perhaps he was distinctly involved in everything that had come to pass so far. Whether or not directly, he was unsure, but he felt in his heart that he was somehow at fault for everything that had happened, that he was woven deeply into everything that had transpired. Covering himself slightly with his cloak as he walked, he stared down at his open hand, concentrating… A small flame flickered into existence the moment he thought of it, no bigger than a goblet, yet the heat it radiated seemed to want to burn at his eyes. He squinted despite himself.
'Hey Harry are you still there?' Ron's questioning voice called from somewhere ahead of him, and the distinct sounds of approaching feet caught him by surprise. Harry closed his fist instinctively, the flame disappearing before his fingers came down.
'Yeah I'm down here.' He answered back, his voice echoing down the corridor. Harry suddenly felt grateful for the apparent darkness that surrounded him then. He was sure inside that he was blushing a deep crimson, and the thought that perhaps Ron might notice his new… 'skills', sent shivers down his spine. Soon enough Ron came into view with a jog to his step, Hermione trailing behind. Despite everything, Harry felt that Hermione could be quite a nice match for Ron, since they were total opposites and all. Smart and… not so smart, but funny. Not that he had never before thought of Hermione as pretty, but she just wasn't his type, not by a long shot. Looking to his friends he knew he couldn't say anything of the sort to their faces, but Hermione in particular appeared to take his apparent smile seriously and seemed to know what he was thinking. At least, from what she could discern of him in the darkness. Though his thoughts returned grimly as another soft thud sounded from the surface.
Ron looked up glumly, as though he could see through to the carnage above.
'Doesn't look good does it? First the castle, and now this…' he sighed audibly, getting a commiserating smile from Hermione. Harry almost imitated his thoughts, a small frown threatening to twitch at the corners of his mouth.
'No it doesn't,' he agreed solemnly, pushing his hands into his robe pockets. He'd be damned if either of them found out about his new strengths, he'd never hear the end of it. 'Sounds like the muggles have broken through up there. Not very encouraging I'll admit that.' He turned his attention to Hermione, who seemed rather forlorn about the whole situation.
'What about you Mione? Your parents are muggles. If this entire thing blows out of proportion, not that it could go much further than this, will you be staying in the wizard world or will you be going home?'
Hermione bit her lip absent mindedly, her eyes downcast.
'I don't know Harry. I just don't know. By the sounds of things there won't be a wizard world for much longer. I haven't a clue how far this anti wizard sentiment has spread but last I heard it was happening in other countries as well. And from what I could find out before the Prophet was halted, no one in the wizard world has tried any sort of negotiation to bring peace. Wizards with their pride, and Muggles not knowing anything of us but war. Terrible combination. Everyone's been at each others throats because no one wants to just sit down and talk about it. The whole world's gone mad!'
Ron just stared admirably to the girl.
'Yeah, you tell em Mione!' He chimed in, receiving a rather mollified glance from Hermione. Harry continued to consider that they possibly were indeed a good match. He figured it best to keep that thought secret for a while, even despite Ron goggling at her like a lost puppy. Hermione truly had the boy wrapped around her little finger, whether she realized it or not. Hermione continued on, looking a little more spirited than before.
'Well, we can only hope the world grows a little sense…' Another distant explosion echoed far above, directing her gaze upward, 'But I hope they work something out soon. At this rate, none of us will be going home for the holidays. Not alive at least.'
Harry and Ron exchanged commiserating looks, agreeing whole heartedly with what the bushy haired teen was saying. Though her tone had been blunt and to the point, what she said was entirely true, and it would no doubt have been the opinion of the majority of students still at Hogwarts. How the world had gone mad. It was enough to make anyone question exactly who was at fault for the war. The muggles for attacking, or the wizards for treating the muggles as an inferior species? Harry tried not to think on it, knowing he had enough on his mind as it was than who to lay blame on for his current situation.
Looking downward, Harry noticed something shiny from the corner of his eye, disappear behind Hermione's back, as though she were hiding it.
'What's that Mione?' he asked curiously, turning Ron's head about as well. Hermione flushed briefly, seeming rather hesitant, but she slowly pulled from behind herself a small, muggle transistor radio, which Harry couldn't believe he didn't notice her carrying earlier. Without warning, Ron laughed aloud, almost falling over.
'What on earth have you got that for?!' he asked between rifts of laughter, 'You're always telling us how muggle things don't work at Hogwarts.'
Hermione glared at him furiously, her mouth working in different directions with her disgust.
'This is just why I didn't tell you about this before Ron. I just knew you'd laugh at me for having it, being so bigheaded all the time. As usual I was right to hide it from you.'
Ron stared back slightly surprised, and he looked to Harry for some kind of support. He got little from the raven haired boy.
'You know, Ron has got a point kind of…' and another quick glower from the girl made Harry quicken his pace, 'About having it I mean! Of course. I mean, why have it if you know it's not going to work?'
Hermione stared at the device nestled in her hands for a moment, her mouth twitching slightly. A small tear slowly forming in the corner of her eye. She sobbed quietly.
'It's mine. I brought it to Hogwarts… to remind me of home. I knew it wouldn't work when I brought it with me on the train, but I used it to help me when I missed my family. It may be difficult for you to understand Ron, but I happen to rate the muggle world as good as the wizard, if not better. I'm attached to it, and this is all I have that's left to remind me of home. But all it does now is remind me I might not ever see my home again… Ever since the Prophet stopped printing I've been worrying about what might happen, and here we are going to hide in the Slytherin common room, of all places. I'm a fool for keeping this thing!'
And she raised her hand in an attempt to break the radio on the cold stone tiles beneath, but Harry instinctively grabbed her arm to stop her.
'WAIT!' he shouted suddenly, drawing curious glares from his two friends. Yet a moment of stark thought had grabbed at him.
'Tell me,' he began slightly offhand, gingerly lowering Hermione's outstretched arm, 'Even with everything… happening, as it has been. Were you kind of, tempted to try and get the radio to work?' Hermione looked at him oddly, but nodded despite herself, if not a little ashamed at it.
'I thought perhaps with the wards having failed, I might've been able to make it work again. Just like it used to…' she continued to stare at the contraption, cringing slightly, 'But it worked as well as it did the day we arrived here. The thing turns on but all you get is static on all frequencies. It's a useless lump of rubbish here, that I worked out long ago.' Her tears were glistening on her cheeks in the dim light. Harry hardly noticed, his mind was so absorbed in the muggle invention.
'Ok then!' he spoke conclusively, 'We'll agree that wards aren't the only type of magic stopping muggle devices from working here, right?!'
Hermione nodded. Ron seemed rather bemused with the whole conversation.
'And wouldn't you say that in order for muggles to communicate with each other near Hogwarts, they'd need to use radios?'
Hermione nodded again, a little more slowly this time.
'Yeessss, I suppose they would. But… the radios wouldn't work would they?'
'Exactly!' Harry exclaimed, his thoughts beginning to take shape. 'If muggles had no other way to communicate to each other about Hogwarts' location over long distances, they'd still have to use their radios. And seeing that they don't work, they need something more powerful to back the technology up! Do you see what I'm getting at.'
Hermione nodded again, this time far more vigorously, as though sudden realization had dawned upon her.
'Are you suggesting that… maybe they're…?' Harry started nodding his head furiously.
'Yes of course! That's precisely my point, they'd need help of some kind wouldn't they?! It all fits together Mione, and it ties with how the wards failed in the first place too. I can't believe I didn't see it before!'
Ron patiently watched the conversation being exchanged between the two, despite not understanding a word of it, his expression growing more and more blank by the moment.
'Err… what are you guys talking about?' Ron asked out of frustration, his teeth beginning to grind together, 'All this talk about radios, and muggles, and oh I don't know. It just doesn't make any kind of sense to me! Not at all.'
Harry and Hermione just stared to him as though he should've understood it all along, sharing between them irritated expressions, with cocked eyebrows and piercing gazes.
'Oh, don't you get it Ron?!' Hermione shot to him swiftly, catching the red head by surprise, 'Radios are one of the only true means that muggles have of communicating over long distances, and because the magic around Hogwarts interferes so much with them, they need support in order to work properly.'
'Support?'
'Yes Ron, support! There's magic involved in all this, can't you see? And powerful magic at that to break through what's around Hogwarts already. Can you see what this means Ron?!'
Ron's mouth moved silently for a moment in several directions, his eyes downcast in silent thought.
'Does this mean… that muggles can use magic?! We're absolutely DOOMED if it does!'
Harry rose another irritated eyebrow.
'No it certainly doesn't mean that!' Hermione continued, becoming rather flustered, 'What I'm saying is that where there's magic, there's wizards as well. The muggles aren't waging this war on their own. It's even possible they haven't a clue they're doing it! They almost certainly have WIZARD allies. Powerful ones but the looks of it, and it's they who're attacking Hogwarts, not the muggles. I'd bet the muggles are just pawns, being used by them to get the job done where they can't do it, shielding themselves from ever being seen. First they take down the wards around the school, then they send the muggles in to destroy any resistance. Then once they're gone, whoever's been controlling them just walks in and takes over. I know it's all just guesswork, but it's a theory at least. And better yet it all makes sense. It all fits, just like Harry said!'
Ron stared with his jaw dropping open in awe, then his expression shifted, and it became, if it were possible, even more admirable of Hermione, though he acknowledged that Harry was the brains behind it.
'If that's the case…' Ron began, taking up where Hermione left off, 'Then the entire war's a sham. Every bit of it! We have to tell someone about this. What about McGonagall?'
'McGonagall?' Harry asked suspiciously, 'What are we supposed to say anyway, just go up to the surface and tell her we got this theory about why she's grazing teeth with muggles right now, in the middle of a battle?! What good would that do? By the sounds of things, it's getting quite nasty up there.'
Ron crossed his arms grumpily, refusing to submit.
'Well it's better than doing nothing isn't it?! If we're down here and the wizard lines fail, sooner or later the muggles are going to find us, and we'll be at their mercy if they do. Whereas, if we go up now, we might actually be able to do something! I don't know exactly what we'll tell her, or whoever we find up there, but perhaps they'll be able to make something better of it than we can. At least it's better than sitting here waiting to be killed, or worse, starve to death. We'll be doing something useful for a change, rather than meekly following orders! Come on, we owe it to ourselves if not to everyone else.'
Harry looked to Hermione, who glanced back with a questioning stare, before both of them nodded at the same time.
'I suppose we've nothing to lose. We might at least be able to help in the worst case scenario.' Harry said.
'Or more likely we'd be killed in the battle crossfire…' Hermione answered, Ron's face grew suddenly pale, 'But you're right I guess. It's worth the risk, and better than waiting down here. Who knows what'll happen if we stay underground?'
Harry nodded once more, and he turned his attention to Ron, who paled even further at being brought into it.
'Well Ron, you suggested we go up there, so it's you we're following. I'm sure you won't mind that would you?'
Ron just spluttered for a moment, but seemed to wrestle some courage up finally, puffing himself up.
'Well I guess you got the right man for the job, follow me ladies and gents.' And he turned on his heel and headed back up the corridor towards the surface, Harry and Hermione following, if not somewhat reluctant.
'Oh and by the way,' he spoke as they walked through the dim light, his eyes focusing best they could on Harry, 'You never told me who you think is controlling the muggles.'
Harry rolled his eyes quickly, amazed at Ron's stupidity.
'I think it's rather obvious isn't it Ron?' he answered, following the red haired boy step for step, 'It's Voldemort.'
Screams of the wounded and dying were all that met McGonagall's ears as the battle ground onwards ever so slowly, her heart racing, she feared she might have a heart attack, or at least pass out there and then. She'd survived one war already. That had ended years ago, during Voldemort's original reign, but that was nothing to what she witnessed this day. The carnage was absolutely terrible, and for a brief moment she wished she could wash away centuries of indifference between wizards and muggles, if only for the peace of this day alone. But life she knew was never so accommodating. Not for her, not for anyone…
A shell landed close by her position, exploding with a deafening blast, and taking with it three witches she'd known for years, not that the thing ever discriminated who it killed. None of the shells did, but they were uncannily accurate, and each shot only seemed to prove this fact even more. Covering her ears, she crawled on her stomach to behind another slab of stone, shards of broken rubble cutting into her skin as she went, yet still holding her wand as close as ever. It had saved her life more than once today, but it was her only weapon.
Without warning, a muggle soldier suddenly appeared from behind a broken wall, his rifle raised in anticipation as he noticed McGonagall lying prone behind a piece of granite. But the woman was too quick for him.
'INCENDIO!' she barked, and an orange curse hit the man's arm, instantly burning it away. In a falter, the soldier went down screaming, his remaining limbs flailing and a steady stream of blood beginning to pour from his gaping wound. McGonagall acted without thinking, and lifting a heavy rock from the ground in her free hand, she hurried toward the thrashing muggle and smashed in his skull, stopping the screams permanently. No one ever said she wasn't merciful, ending his pain as she was sure he was feeling. Though she had to admit that primitive methods often worked quite effectively.
Turning about, whilst still holding the stone in her left hand, she instinctively raised her wand to another soldier who'd begun running at her from behind with a knife bared in his hands, yelling a loud battle cry at the top of his lungs.
'IKARASHAA!' she roared aloud, and a crimson spell impacted with the soldier's face, releasing a wave of painful howls as he began to slowly melt away from beneath his raised hands. He stumbled around for a moment clutching his ruined face, but McGonagall did nothing to end HIS pain, knowing that coming from behind was a cowardly tactic.
"Let the bastard melt!" she thought ruthlessly, as the man fell to the ground and began twitching in a sickly manner. No need to lament, he tried to attack from behind. That bastard! Looking over her knelt position she watched as Snape and a dozen other wizards held their ground against the seemingly endless masses of muggle troops, that now looked to just move up in rows for every man that fell. Though he was slightly obscured behind rocky outcrops of land, muggle snipers had entrenched themselves as well and had begun picking off any wizard foolish enough to poke a head above their hole for more than a second. Occasionally a cracking shot rang out, a wailing scream of agony piercing the air soon after as another robed figure slumped limply to the ground, to adorn it as did their other deceased companions. Snape fought on regardless, his teeth gritting together as though they would break from the pressure, he let fly multiple curses as soldiers tried to either shoot him dead or simply run him through with a bayonet.
'WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!' he roared, waving his wand in a complex fashion. A soldier running towards him as fast as he could manage, was suddenly lifted from the ground and hurled through the air some thirty meters into the distance, landing with a crash of broken bones and ruined joints. Yet Snape's attention remained fixed, as he continued on to his next opponent despite tank shells continuing to fly overhead and in some cases, nearly grazing him where he stood.
'EXPELLIARMUS!' he continued, and instead of disarming his next opponent, he took his head clean off, blasting the man's body into oblivion as the bloodied head spun off into the distance, helmet and all. And still, his expression refused to soften. If anything, it hardened further, a dark remnant of his own former life during the war against Voldemort, never caring to the death that surrounded him. For this reason alone Serverus Snape was an agent to be reckoned with, and he'd lost none of his extreme temper in the years since. For a brief moment Snape's fiery gaze caught McGonagall's. The hatred in his eyes was unlike anything she'd seen before. It was cold as hammered steel, and put a chill to her spine. Perhaps he was going mad. She couldn't tell at that distance.
Precious moments had passed, and she risked a look over her cover every now and then to let fly a curse or two, every now and then hearing a yelp of pain, or a heavy body fall limply to the ground in her wake, but always dropping herself quickly enough to avoid the onslaught of molten bullets that careened over her head, making whipping noises as they passed, ringing in her ears. But the fight was futile in her mind, and whether Snape wished to admit it or not she didn't know, but she was certain that after so many spells, he must be growing tired, and each incantation he let off began to lag at him further, usurping energy from him. Yet the muggles continued to come, in ever increasing numbers. From her vantage point, McGonagall stared over the field. Masses of camouflaged muggle soldiers walked in troops behind tanks, reinforcing their numbers. The wizard forces being continually forced back further and further into the ruins, where deadly pitched battles began to take place between the two side's infantry, with deadly consequence. A muffled yelling echoed in her ears.
'FALL BACK! FALL BACK!' she heard Snape yell to the others, who had begun leaving their positions for the muggles, the wizard losses proving too high as the bullets continued to fire, explosions all around raising the ground beneath feet. The burning, the cauterizing, the hurt and the sorrow. The carnage of war. One of the wizards running behind Snape fell suddenly, blood spraying from numerous wounds like smoke. Others refused to move at all, having lost their minds entirely in the chaos and calamity, screaming for mercy, sometimes waving white flags at anyone who'd listen, even those from their own side. They truly had gone mad. And yet the muggles who persisted in the attack seemed as devoid of emotion as a rock. McGonagall briefly wondered how anyone who killed and watched suffering in this way could be so cold and dismissive. Even for a muggle that should be impossible…
Another shell landed close by, launching bodies and debris in different directions. More maddening screams followed, and McGonagall clutched her bloodied hands to her ears, trying vainly to block it all out.
"This is not happening, this is not happening!…" she muttered continually to herself, starting to feel slightly mad herself, though what would it matter if she did? When the fighting broke out, she had an entire legion of followers under her command… but now, bodies lied dead and rotting amongst the ruins and beneath the rain, streams of blood soaking the ground where healthy grass once grew, she was the only one left. The cold solidified her bones to ice as a wind scathed the plain, and she absent mindedly clutched a wound to the side of her body, warm blood soaking through her robes. She refused to let it take her mind as well as her body, she had to keep a level head even in a crisis like this.
Dead and wounded began to pile on both sides, but the wizard forces were being battered considerably and now ran back from their positions in full retreat, shooting random spells and curses over their backs as they ran. Though it was to little avail, the muggles seeming hardly perturbed at walking over their wounded, even as they reached up from the ground for help. And before they knew it, the wizards had crashed into muggle reinforcements coming from the north from the forbidden forest. Fresh troops taking sporting shots from within the trees, invisible to the naked eye.
"This is not happening! This is not happening!" McGonagall continued to think, crouching closer to the muddied and blood soaked dirt, her wounded side beginning to bleed badly as cold air whipped at her sides. Pain gripped her like she'd never known, physical hurt, totally different to a magical wound. She gave a sudden start as a strong hand gripped her neck from behind and tossed her bodily to the side, the click of a loaded gun echoing in her ears as she crashed to the ground. More pain surged through her, as a throaty laugh carried on the air.
'Put your hands up wench! And don't try anything funny!' the arrogant muggle ordered, his gun aimed directly at McGonagall's head. She refused to move. 'I SAID HANDS UP!!!'
McGonagall hesitantly raised her arms above her head, her wound aching horribly with the stretch. Just beyond her reach, she noticed her wand lying exposed an arm's length away. It was her only protection, she had to get to it. But the muggle followed her gaze and swiftly slammed a heavy boot down onto it, the wooden wand snapping like a twig in a shower of sparks.
'You were warned!' he spoke acidly to her, a slight sneer twitching on his face. He took aim, and McGonagall closed her eyes, a small tear flowing down her cheek. So this was how it was all to end. Hogwarts destroyed, the students next to be hunted down, and the rest of wizard kind washed away in a flash of blood and tears… So be it then.
Suddenly the soldier wretched and dropped his gun to the ground. McGonagall's eyes snapped open in disbelief and watched in a mixed expression of relief and terror, as the soldier convulsed horribly and arched backward. Lifting from the ground, a long, triple bladed knife tore through the muggle's chest, his twitching body choking on blood for a time, as he was hurled bodily into the distance by some powerful, invisible force, landing with a crash amongst the stone ruins. McGonagall stared open mouthed in disbelief, as from seemingly thin air, Marius materialized before her.
'Marius?!' she breathed in shock, and the figure's armor retracted from his face back into the stub of his neck, his cruel black eyes staring down at the crumpled old witch as she fought to control her sense of disbelief.
'Yes.' He spoke simply, wiping blood from the knife onto his robe sleeves, a slight smirk itching his face. 'I would hope my presence will be appreciated in this late hour.' Rain continued to fall, somehow avoiding the wizard entirely, yet his expression never changed, and he looked as though he could outstare a rock any day.
'I believe it is time,' he spoke silkily to himself as much as anyone, raising his gauntleted hands, 'That this wrong be put right at once… Rise my fiery slaves, burn the muggles to your heart's content!' and across the bloodied grounds, the earth heaved upon itself and smoking humanoid forms rose from nothingness.
'This day Minerva,' he continued in his heartless tone, not turning to meet her gaze, 'Is the day of the Heliopath. Bless all who die at their fiery grasp!' and he laughed, his voice echoing evil across the field as a slaughter of fire and ash began.
The bloodlust beginning anew…………
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Chapter 19 finished hurah. Marius is back! Double hurah! What will happen next? The wizards are losing the battle but the Heliopath army has been raised from hibernation, only chapter 20 will tell and I hope you all stick around until then. Happy reading, I know it's an effort to read but it takes time to describe things properly. CYA.
McGonagall ducked as another stray shell breached the shield and exploded, sending ricocheting pieces of debris flying in all directions. The accompanying screams and wails of the injured echoed in the lulls of action, only to be drowned out once more by the sickening whistle of other shells flying overhead, that had despite all odds, found some obscure weakness in the shield and passed through. She gritted her teeth hard as she struggled to keep a clear mind. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold together the rabble that Snape had brought with him to repel the advance, when the enemy you were fighting didn't need to take a footstep near you. Every now and then when another bone shattering explosion sounded nearby, at least one person would lose their nerve entirely and head for the hills, spreading dissension amongst everyone else. At this rate there would be none left to repel anything before the next half hour was out. Though it was wishful thinking that they might all survive that long even.
Amidst the horrified yells of panic that began to spread throughout the castle ruins, McGonagall shifted uncomfortably. A stiff, ringing in her ears had begun at the noise the shells were making. It was enough to make her want to scream, though nobody would hear in this war zone. Precariously she looked over her rock shelter. Thankfully, the shield was still keeping out the majority of shots the tanks were letting off in the distance, yet they never relented for a second. She could almost feel the hate running through the muggles in those tanks, though they were many meters away.
"Why won't you give us a chance?! Just one!" she thought savagely, gripping the handle of her wand with tension. Snape to her right, eyed her suspiciously, though he was in no position to gawk at anyone, his own neat appearance quickly become haggard and messed the moment he hid behind a rock. Yet no one could accuse him of cowardice, as it was he who often had the urge to look up and see what he was facing. To look his enemy in the eye.
'I'd savor your anger if I were you Minerva,' he spoke in his usual slippery manner, 'Releasing it at an appropriate time will better you more than you know. We're on the back foot already. Half these people here weren't expecting the shield to let a few of those things in.'
McGonagall stared at him with a sort of loss.
'You're right I guess. But then, half these people weren't expecting Hogwarts to be flattened in under an hour either.'
Snape smiled somewhat, and turned back to the field. Rain had turned the green hillside into a sloppy, wet quagmire, and the constant downpour was only making it worse. A cold wind started to blow across the land, clawing at the faces of nervous wizards, chilling them to the bone. Silent prayers of hope were muttered incoherently beneath veiled breaths as the whistling of shells sent shockwaves of horror across the landscape, the ever present sounds of shells crashing into the magical barrier still distinguishable above the suffering of the people trapped within. There was no escape from fate so it seemed. Cold chills of despair swept across the muddied fields with every spiteful breath of air. Though it hardly seemed notable to the witches and wizards hiding behind rocky outcrops, who's fear at being killed seemed to block out all sense of reality as it was. An ominous silence would grip the field every now and then, until just distinguishable above the thuds of distant artillery, a shell would suddenly breach the shield and fly overhead. In all, it promoted the feeling of hell.
Suddenly a long wailing sound engulfed the ruins, piercing eardrums and breaking the apparent silence that had thus far held the field. People held their ears in terror as the wailing seemed to scream all around them from every direction. McGonagall shot a horrified look to Serverus, who looked back just as panic stricken as she. A similar questioning stare barely visible beneath layers of manifesting fear as it continued to wail on. It could have been likened to a Banshee's scream, and the aghast expressions of everyone present could've meant they had suspected the same, all clawing with their hands in a vain attempt to shield their ears from the terrible noise that almost seemed to tear at the fabric of the mind itself, reducing people to huddling lumps on the ground. And as soon as it began, the sound ceased, leaving everyone to look around themselves in utter confusion, all unaware as to where the sound had come.
'What was that?!' Snape asked desperately, his pallid face turning a dull white in fear. McGonagall considered for a moment, staring about herself every which way and that, as though wondering to herself the same thing, until at last her eyes locked onto something above her in the distance, her eyes widening with sudden anxiety. Snape followed her gaze, his mouth dropping open in shock.
'We cannot count on Dumbledore to aid us any longer Serverus…' she spoke in faint tones, small beads of sweat starting to roll down her face, 'We're on our own from now on…'
Snape nodded absently as he turned on his heel and ran, shouting curses and orders this way and that for people to return to their posts, all the while, McGonagall stared fearfully into the distance, her feet not shifting an inch.
In a matter of moments the shield had turned from it's ambient blue shade, to a sickly green hue. It's rippling masses of energy beginning to falter and take on life of their own, often leaping from the shield in sporadic motions, like lightening in a storm, until at last all energy ceased and it dissolved into the air like tears in rain, dispersing itself into the atmosphere. The impassable barrier lost to them, and McGonagall knew that there would be no respite from the battle now. She could almost feel the faces of her enemy brighten with delight as the last remnants of the shield faded remorsefully into the air, as though it had never existed. It never struck her as to why, but her feet remained dug into the sodden mud as she watched the last line of wizard defense disappear, even with Snape pulling at her to pull back to more protected areas of the castle, thoughts ran rampart through her mind. One of those in particular grabbed at her harder than Snape's vain attempts.
"Don't give up Albus!" she thought painfully to herself, "Hang in there…" and she turned and accompanied the potions teacher, just as the muggle tanks began to move, hundreds of soldiers fanning out from behind…
Harry walked cautiously along the stone covered corridors that led towards Slytherin common room, the dust and grime that covered the walls in stretches attracting little attention from the preoccupied teen as his steps echoed in turn with over two hundred other scared and fearful students being led by the nose by Professor Flitwick. With his head bowed in conscious thought, Ron and Hermione who were walking on either side, had long since stopped attempting conversation with him, as it felt to the two that their positive talk was being wasted on a wall of air, that quite obviously didn't feel like talking back. Their own hunched statures portraying the direness of the situation, being forced to take shelter in the common room of the school's most hated house, but Harry's mind was elsewhere, thinking.
Distant thuds of artillery sounded far above, occasionally rocking the corridor's foundations, raising an eyebrow here and there from concerned peers. Harry couldn't help but wonder at what was happening above on the surface. But what he found more disturbing, was the possibility that perhaps he was distinctly involved in everything that had come to pass so far. Whether or not directly, he was unsure, but he felt in his heart that he was somehow at fault for everything that had happened, that he was woven deeply into everything that had transpired. Covering himself slightly with his cloak as he walked, he stared down at his open hand, concentrating… A small flame flickered into existence the moment he thought of it, no bigger than a goblet, yet the heat it radiated seemed to want to burn at his eyes. He squinted despite himself.
'Hey Harry are you still there?' Ron's questioning voice called from somewhere ahead of him, and the distinct sounds of approaching feet caught him by surprise. Harry closed his fist instinctively, the flame disappearing before his fingers came down.
'Yeah I'm down here.' He answered back, his voice echoing down the corridor. Harry suddenly felt grateful for the apparent darkness that surrounded him then. He was sure inside that he was blushing a deep crimson, and the thought that perhaps Ron might notice his new… 'skills', sent shivers down his spine. Soon enough Ron came into view with a jog to his step, Hermione trailing behind. Despite everything, Harry felt that Hermione could be quite a nice match for Ron, since they were total opposites and all. Smart and… not so smart, but funny. Not that he had never before thought of Hermione as pretty, but she just wasn't his type, not by a long shot. Looking to his friends he knew he couldn't say anything of the sort to their faces, but Hermione in particular appeared to take his apparent smile seriously and seemed to know what he was thinking. At least, from what she could discern of him in the darkness. Though his thoughts returned grimly as another soft thud sounded from the surface.
Ron looked up glumly, as though he could see through to the carnage above.
'Doesn't look good does it? First the castle, and now this…' he sighed audibly, getting a commiserating smile from Hermione. Harry almost imitated his thoughts, a small frown threatening to twitch at the corners of his mouth.
'No it doesn't,' he agreed solemnly, pushing his hands into his robe pockets. He'd be damned if either of them found out about his new strengths, he'd never hear the end of it. 'Sounds like the muggles have broken through up there. Not very encouraging I'll admit that.' He turned his attention to Hermione, who seemed rather forlorn about the whole situation.
'What about you Mione? Your parents are muggles. If this entire thing blows out of proportion, not that it could go much further than this, will you be staying in the wizard world or will you be going home?'
Hermione bit her lip absent mindedly, her eyes downcast.
'I don't know Harry. I just don't know. By the sounds of things there won't be a wizard world for much longer. I haven't a clue how far this anti wizard sentiment has spread but last I heard it was happening in other countries as well. And from what I could find out before the Prophet was halted, no one in the wizard world has tried any sort of negotiation to bring peace. Wizards with their pride, and Muggles not knowing anything of us but war. Terrible combination. Everyone's been at each others throats because no one wants to just sit down and talk about it. The whole world's gone mad!'
Ron just stared admirably to the girl.
'Yeah, you tell em Mione!' He chimed in, receiving a rather mollified glance from Hermione. Harry continued to consider that they possibly were indeed a good match. He figured it best to keep that thought secret for a while, even despite Ron goggling at her like a lost puppy. Hermione truly had the boy wrapped around her little finger, whether she realized it or not. Hermione continued on, looking a little more spirited than before.
'Well, we can only hope the world grows a little sense…' Another distant explosion echoed far above, directing her gaze upward, 'But I hope they work something out soon. At this rate, none of us will be going home for the holidays. Not alive at least.'
Harry and Ron exchanged commiserating looks, agreeing whole heartedly with what the bushy haired teen was saying. Though her tone had been blunt and to the point, what she said was entirely true, and it would no doubt have been the opinion of the majority of students still at Hogwarts. How the world had gone mad. It was enough to make anyone question exactly who was at fault for the war. The muggles for attacking, or the wizards for treating the muggles as an inferior species? Harry tried not to think on it, knowing he had enough on his mind as it was than who to lay blame on for his current situation.
Looking downward, Harry noticed something shiny from the corner of his eye, disappear behind Hermione's back, as though she were hiding it.
'What's that Mione?' he asked curiously, turning Ron's head about as well. Hermione flushed briefly, seeming rather hesitant, but she slowly pulled from behind herself a small, muggle transistor radio, which Harry couldn't believe he didn't notice her carrying earlier. Without warning, Ron laughed aloud, almost falling over.
'What on earth have you got that for?!' he asked between rifts of laughter, 'You're always telling us how muggle things don't work at Hogwarts.'
Hermione glared at him furiously, her mouth working in different directions with her disgust.
'This is just why I didn't tell you about this before Ron. I just knew you'd laugh at me for having it, being so bigheaded all the time. As usual I was right to hide it from you.'
Ron stared back slightly surprised, and he looked to Harry for some kind of support. He got little from the raven haired boy.
'You know, Ron has got a point kind of…' and another quick glower from the girl made Harry quicken his pace, 'About having it I mean! Of course. I mean, why have it if you know it's not going to work?'
Hermione stared at the device nestled in her hands for a moment, her mouth twitching slightly. A small tear slowly forming in the corner of her eye. She sobbed quietly.
'It's mine. I brought it to Hogwarts… to remind me of home. I knew it wouldn't work when I brought it with me on the train, but I used it to help me when I missed my family. It may be difficult for you to understand Ron, but I happen to rate the muggle world as good as the wizard, if not better. I'm attached to it, and this is all I have that's left to remind me of home. But all it does now is remind me I might not ever see my home again… Ever since the Prophet stopped printing I've been worrying about what might happen, and here we are going to hide in the Slytherin common room, of all places. I'm a fool for keeping this thing!'
And she raised her hand in an attempt to break the radio on the cold stone tiles beneath, but Harry instinctively grabbed her arm to stop her.
'WAIT!' he shouted suddenly, drawing curious glares from his two friends. Yet a moment of stark thought had grabbed at him.
'Tell me,' he began slightly offhand, gingerly lowering Hermione's outstretched arm, 'Even with everything… happening, as it has been. Were you kind of, tempted to try and get the radio to work?' Hermione looked at him oddly, but nodded despite herself, if not a little ashamed at it.
'I thought perhaps with the wards having failed, I might've been able to make it work again. Just like it used to…' she continued to stare at the contraption, cringing slightly, 'But it worked as well as it did the day we arrived here. The thing turns on but all you get is static on all frequencies. It's a useless lump of rubbish here, that I worked out long ago.' Her tears were glistening on her cheeks in the dim light. Harry hardly noticed, his mind was so absorbed in the muggle invention.
'Ok then!' he spoke conclusively, 'We'll agree that wards aren't the only type of magic stopping muggle devices from working here, right?!'
Hermione nodded. Ron seemed rather bemused with the whole conversation.
'And wouldn't you say that in order for muggles to communicate with each other near Hogwarts, they'd need to use radios?'
Hermione nodded again, a little more slowly this time.
'Yeessss, I suppose they would. But… the radios wouldn't work would they?'
'Exactly!' Harry exclaimed, his thoughts beginning to take shape. 'If muggles had no other way to communicate to each other about Hogwarts' location over long distances, they'd still have to use their radios. And seeing that they don't work, they need something more powerful to back the technology up! Do you see what I'm getting at.'
Hermione nodded again, this time far more vigorously, as though sudden realization had dawned upon her.
'Are you suggesting that… maybe they're…?' Harry started nodding his head furiously.
'Yes of course! That's precisely my point, they'd need help of some kind wouldn't they?! It all fits together Mione, and it ties with how the wards failed in the first place too. I can't believe I didn't see it before!'
Ron patiently watched the conversation being exchanged between the two, despite not understanding a word of it, his expression growing more and more blank by the moment.
'Err… what are you guys talking about?' Ron asked out of frustration, his teeth beginning to grind together, 'All this talk about radios, and muggles, and oh I don't know. It just doesn't make any kind of sense to me! Not at all.'
Harry and Hermione just stared to him as though he should've understood it all along, sharing between them irritated expressions, with cocked eyebrows and piercing gazes.
'Oh, don't you get it Ron?!' Hermione shot to him swiftly, catching the red head by surprise, 'Radios are one of the only true means that muggles have of communicating over long distances, and because the magic around Hogwarts interferes so much with them, they need support in order to work properly.'
'Support?'
'Yes Ron, support! There's magic involved in all this, can't you see? And powerful magic at that to break through what's around Hogwarts already. Can you see what this means Ron?!'
Ron's mouth moved silently for a moment in several directions, his eyes downcast in silent thought.
'Does this mean… that muggles can use magic?! We're absolutely DOOMED if it does!'
Harry rose another irritated eyebrow.
'No it certainly doesn't mean that!' Hermione continued, becoming rather flustered, 'What I'm saying is that where there's magic, there's wizards as well. The muggles aren't waging this war on their own. It's even possible they haven't a clue they're doing it! They almost certainly have WIZARD allies. Powerful ones but the looks of it, and it's they who're attacking Hogwarts, not the muggles. I'd bet the muggles are just pawns, being used by them to get the job done where they can't do it, shielding themselves from ever being seen. First they take down the wards around the school, then they send the muggles in to destroy any resistance. Then once they're gone, whoever's been controlling them just walks in and takes over. I know it's all just guesswork, but it's a theory at least. And better yet it all makes sense. It all fits, just like Harry said!'
Ron stared with his jaw dropping open in awe, then his expression shifted, and it became, if it were possible, even more admirable of Hermione, though he acknowledged that Harry was the brains behind it.
'If that's the case…' Ron began, taking up where Hermione left off, 'Then the entire war's a sham. Every bit of it! We have to tell someone about this. What about McGonagall?'
'McGonagall?' Harry asked suspiciously, 'What are we supposed to say anyway, just go up to the surface and tell her we got this theory about why she's grazing teeth with muggles right now, in the middle of a battle?! What good would that do? By the sounds of things, it's getting quite nasty up there.'
Ron crossed his arms grumpily, refusing to submit.
'Well it's better than doing nothing isn't it?! If we're down here and the wizard lines fail, sooner or later the muggles are going to find us, and we'll be at their mercy if they do. Whereas, if we go up now, we might actually be able to do something! I don't know exactly what we'll tell her, or whoever we find up there, but perhaps they'll be able to make something better of it than we can. At least it's better than sitting here waiting to be killed, or worse, starve to death. We'll be doing something useful for a change, rather than meekly following orders! Come on, we owe it to ourselves if not to everyone else.'
Harry looked to Hermione, who glanced back with a questioning stare, before both of them nodded at the same time.
'I suppose we've nothing to lose. We might at least be able to help in the worst case scenario.' Harry said.
'Or more likely we'd be killed in the battle crossfire…' Hermione answered, Ron's face grew suddenly pale, 'But you're right I guess. It's worth the risk, and better than waiting down here. Who knows what'll happen if we stay underground?'
Harry nodded once more, and he turned his attention to Ron, who paled even further at being brought into it.
'Well Ron, you suggested we go up there, so it's you we're following. I'm sure you won't mind that would you?'
Ron just spluttered for a moment, but seemed to wrestle some courage up finally, puffing himself up.
'Well I guess you got the right man for the job, follow me ladies and gents.' And he turned on his heel and headed back up the corridor towards the surface, Harry and Hermione following, if not somewhat reluctant.
'Oh and by the way,' he spoke as they walked through the dim light, his eyes focusing best they could on Harry, 'You never told me who you think is controlling the muggles.'
Harry rolled his eyes quickly, amazed at Ron's stupidity.
'I think it's rather obvious isn't it Ron?' he answered, following the red haired boy step for step, 'It's Voldemort.'
Screams of the wounded and dying were all that met McGonagall's ears as the battle ground onwards ever so slowly, her heart racing, she feared she might have a heart attack, or at least pass out there and then. She'd survived one war already. That had ended years ago, during Voldemort's original reign, but that was nothing to what she witnessed this day. The carnage was absolutely terrible, and for a brief moment she wished she could wash away centuries of indifference between wizards and muggles, if only for the peace of this day alone. But life she knew was never so accommodating. Not for her, not for anyone…
A shell landed close by her position, exploding with a deafening blast, and taking with it three witches she'd known for years, not that the thing ever discriminated who it killed. None of the shells did, but they were uncannily accurate, and each shot only seemed to prove this fact even more. Covering her ears, she crawled on her stomach to behind another slab of stone, shards of broken rubble cutting into her skin as she went, yet still holding her wand as close as ever. It had saved her life more than once today, but it was her only weapon.
Without warning, a muggle soldier suddenly appeared from behind a broken wall, his rifle raised in anticipation as he noticed McGonagall lying prone behind a piece of granite. But the woman was too quick for him.
'INCENDIO!' she barked, and an orange curse hit the man's arm, instantly burning it away. In a falter, the soldier went down screaming, his remaining limbs flailing and a steady stream of blood beginning to pour from his gaping wound. McGonagall acted without thinking, and lifting a heavy rock from the ground in her free hand, she hurried toward the thrashing muggle and smashed in his skull, stopping the screams permanently. No one ever said she wasn't merciful, ending his pain as she was sure he was feeling. Though she had to admit that primitive methods often worked quite effectively.
Turning about, whilst still holding the stone in her left hand, she instinctively raised her wand to another soldier who'd begun running at her from behind with a knife bared in his hands, yelling a loud battle cry at the top of his lungs.
'IKARASHAA!' she roared aloud, and a crimson spell impacted with the soldier's face, releasing a wave of painful howls as he began to slowly melt away from beneath his raised hands. He stumbled around for a moment clutching his ruined face, but McGonagall did nothing to end HIS pain, knowing that coming from behind was a cowardly tactic.
"Let the bastard melt!" she thought ruthlessly, as the man fell to the ground and began twitching in a sickly manner. No need to lament, he tried to attack from behind. That bastard! Looking over her knelt position she watched as Snape and a dozen other wizards held their ground against the seemingly endless masses of muggle troops, that now looked to just move up in rows for every man that fell. Though he was slightly obscured behind rocky outcrops of land, muggle snipers had entrenched themselves as well and had begun picking off any wizard foolish enough to poke a head above their hole for more than a second. Occasionally a cracking shot rang out, a wailing scream of agony piercing the air soon after as another robed figure slumped limply to the ground, to adorn it as did their other deceased companions. Snape fought on regardless, his teeth gritting together as though they would break from the pressure, he let fly multiple curses as soldiers tried to either shoot him dead or simply run him through with a bayonet.
'WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!' he roared, waving his wand in a complex fashion. A soldier running towards him as fast as he could manage, was suddenly lifted from the ground and hurled through the air some thirty meters into the distance, landing with a crash of broken bones and ruined joints. Yet Snape's attention remained fixed, as he continued on to his next opponent despite tank shells continuing to fly overhead and in some cases, nearly grazing him where he stood.
'EXPELLIARMUS!' he continued, and instead of disarming his next opponent, he took his head clean off, blasting the man's body into oblivion as the bloodied head spun off into the distance, helmet and all. And still, his expression refused to soften. If anything, it hardened further, a dark remnant of his own former life during the war against Voldemort, never caring to the death that surrounded him. For this reason alone Serverus Snape was an agent to be reckoned with, and he'd lost none of his extreme temper in the years since. For a brief moment Snape's fiery gaze caught McGonagall's. The hatred in his eyes was unlike anything she'd seen before. It was cold as hammered steel, and put a chill to her spine. Perhaps he was going mad. She couldn't tell at that distance.
Precious moments had passed, and she risked a look over her cover every now and then to let fly a curse or two, every now and then hearing a yelp of pain, or a heavy body fall limply to the ground in her wake, but always dropping herself quickly enough to avoid the onslaught of molten bullets that careened over her head, making whipping noises as they passed, ringing in her ears. But the fight was futile in her mind, and whether Snape wished to admit it or not she didn't know, but she was certain that after so many spells, he must be growing tired, and each incantation he let off began to lag at him further, usurping energy from him. Yet the muggles continued to come, in ever increasing numbers. From her vantage point, McGonagall stared over the field. Masses of camouflaged muggle soldiers walked in troops behind tanks, reinforcing their numbers. The wizard forces being continually forced back further and further into the ruins, where deadly pitched battles began to take place between the two side's infantry, with deadly consequence. A muffled yelling echoed in her ears.
'FALL BACK! FALL BACK!' she heard Snape yell to the others, who had begun leaving their positions for the muggles, the wizard losses proving too high as the bullets continued to fire, explosions all around raising the ground beneath feet. The burning, the cauterizing, the hurt and the sorrow. The carnage of war. One of the wizards running behind Snape fell suddenly, blood spraying from numerous wounds like smoke. Others refused to move at all, having lost their minds entirely in the chaos and calamity, screaming for mercy, sometimes waving white flags at anyone who'd listen, even those from their own side. They truly had gone mad. And yet the muggles who persisted in the attack seemed as devoid of emotion as a rock. McGonagall briefly wondered how anyone who killed and watched suffering in this way could be so cold and dismissive. Even for a muggle that should be impossible…
Another shell landed close by, launching bodies and debris in different directions. More maddening screams followed, and McGonagall clutched her bloodied hands to her ears, trying vainly to block it all out.
"This is not happening, this is not happening!…" she muttered continually to herself, starting to feel slightly mad herself, though what would it matter if she did? When the fighting broke out, she had an entire legion of followers under her command… but now, bodies lied dead and rotting amongst the ruins and beneath the rain, streams of blood soaking the ground where healthy grass once grew, she was the only one left. The cold solidified her bones to ice as a wind scathed the plain, and she absent mindedly clutched a wound to the side of her body, warm blood soaking through her robes. She refused to let it take her mind as well as her body, she had to keep a level head even in a crisis like this.
Dead and wounded began to pile on both sides, but the wizard forces were being battered considerably and now ran back from their positions in full retreat, shooting random spells and curses over their backs as they ran. Though it was to little avail, the muggles seeming hardly perturbed at walking over their wounded, even as they reached up from the ground for help. And before they knew it, the wizards had crashed into muggle reinforcements coming from the north from the forbidden forest. Fresh troops taking sporting shots from within the trees, invisible to the naked eye.
"This is not happening! This is not happening!" McGonagall continued to think, crouching closer to the muddied and blood soaked dirt, her wounded side beginning to bleed badly as cold air whipped at her sides. Pain gripped her like she'd never known, physical hurt, totally different to a magical wound. She gave a sudden start as a strong hand gripped her neck from behind and tossed her bodily to the side, the click of a loaded gun echoing in her ears as she crashed to the ground. More pain surged through her, as a throaty laugh carried on the air.
'Put your hands up wench! And don't try anything funny!' the arrogant muggle ordered, his gun aimed directly at McGonagall's head. She refused to move. 'I SAID HANDS UP!!!'
McGonagall hesitantly raised her arms above her head, her wound aching horribly with the stretch. Just beyond her reach, she noticed her wand lying exposed an arm's length away. It was her only protection, she had to get to it. But the muggle followed her gaze and swiftly slammed a heavy boot down onto it, the wooden wand snapping like a twig in a shower of sparks.
'You were warned!' he spoke acidly to her, a slight sneer twitching on his face. He took aim, and McGonagall closed her eyes, a small tear flowing down her cheek. So this was how it was all to end. Hogwarts destroyed, the students next to be hunted down, and the rest of wizard kind washed away in a flash of blood and tears… So be it then.
Suddenly the soldier wretched and dropped his gun to the ground. McGonagall's eyes snapped open in disbelief and watched in a mixed expression of relief and terror, as the soldier convulsed horribly and arched backward. Lifting from the ground, a long, triple bladed knife tore through the muggle's chest, his twitching body choking on blood for a time, as he was hurled bodily into the distance by some powerful, invisible force, landing with a crash amongst the stone ruins. McGonagall stared open mouthed in disbelief, as from seemingly thin air, Marius materialized before her.
'Marius?!' she breathed in shock, and the figure's armor retracted from his face back into the stub of his neck, his cruel black eyes staring down at the crumpled old witch as she fought to control her sense of disbelief.
'Yes.' He spoke simply, wiping blood from the knife onto his robe sleeves, a slight smirk itching his face. 'I would hope my presence will be appreciated in this late hour.' Rain continued to fall, somehow avoiding the wizard entirely, yet his expression never changed, and he looked as though he could outstare a rock any day.
'I believe it is time,' he spoke silkily to himself as much as anyone, raising his gauntleted hands, 'That this wrong be put right at once… Rise my fiery slaves, burn the muggles to your heart's content!' and across the bloodied grounds, the earth heaved upon itself and smoking humanoid forms rose from nothingness.
'This day Minerva,' he continued in his heartless tone, not turning to meet her gaze, 'Is the day of the Heliopath. Bless all who die at their fiery grasp!' and he laughed, his voice echoing evil across the field as a slaughter of fire and ash began.
The bloodlust beginning anew…………
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Chapter 19 finished hurah. Marius is back! Double hurah! What will happen next? The wizards are losing the battle but the Heliopath army has been raised from hibernation, only chapter 20 will tell and I hope you all stick around until then. Happy reading, I know it's an effort to read but it takes time to describe things properly. CYA.