Chapter 28
White. That was all he could see. Just white, stretching on and on forever. There was no sound, nothing above or beneath him. Just white.
It was oddly comforting, he thought, body and mind at ease, just drifting into that whiteness. Very comforting…
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Ginny was in the middle of ducking a nasty impedimenta and sending her own back at the tall woman in black robes when the world exploded. A wave of light swept through the black cloud they were all fighting in, and the ground rolled beneath her feet. She stumbled and tripped, falling to one knee before she managed to catch herself. Around her, everyone else was having the same problem. And then she heard the screams. Two of them, to be precise, and her heart stopped.
One was rage and fury and everything angry rolled into one shrill sound, the other agony and pain and determination. "Harry," Ginny whispered. "Harry!"
Across from her, her Death Eater was grabbing at her ears, shrieking herself in agony. Around her, others started to do the same.
The screams got louder, the light brighter. Ginny couldn't see, the light was blinding her. She tried to wrench her head around, back away toward the walls of the castle to see if that would ease the blinding sensation. Dimly she saw the gray walls for the stone castle begin to shimmer, a faint iridescence running up and down and growing in intensity.
The castle seemed to shimmer another moment, and then there was another roll in the ground and everyone she could see was knocked to the ground once again, herself included. She landed rather painfully on one arm and cried out herself as she felt the crack. She sucked her breath in through her teeth, trying to breath through the pain; after all, there were Death Eaters all over the place and she didn't want to end up dead.
But the ground kept shaking and she couldn't stand, and the whiteness was still blinding and the screams still deafening. And all Ginny could feel was fear and love and sheer terror that this could be the end of everything she had and everything she still wanted. "Harry!" she tried to call yet again, willing him to come out the winner.
And then it stopped. The light, the sound, the ground. The darkness. It was all still, so still there wasn't a bird or breath of wind to disturb the absolute silence. Slowly, Ginny opened her eyes and tried sitting up, pain shooting through her arm as she did.
She gazed about. The sky was clear. Hogwarts looked untouched. And all around, people lay limply on the ground and she didn't know if they were alive or dead.
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Draco had been through hell before and lived to tell the tale, but this time he wasn't sure he would be so lucky. He'd gone running after Granger and Weasley, full-long into the battle and had eventually found himself face to face with one of his father's old friends. Avery.
It hadn't been pretty, because the older man was sharp and keen and had liked to send spells Draco's way when he was a child. And he'd just been hit with something that had him reeling back in pain when the world exploded in light and shaking ground that those terrible screams.
As everyone around him began to crumble to the ground, knocked off their feet by the rolling earth beneath them, or the pain in their ears or blindness in their eyes, Draco fought to keep blackness from creeping over him. He had to get to Cara, he thought, trying to crawl forward over the still moving ground. Cara, she had to be here somewhere. He'd spotted her right before Avery had started the duel, she had to be nearby.
He couldn't have made it too far, before his hand, the good one, not the one that Granger had fixed up for him, touched the rough material of a school cloak. And then his hand closed over another and everything in him slumped in relief. Cara. And judging by the way she curled into him, still alive and well.
Draco dragged himself to cover her body with his, blackness still creeping up, trying to drown up all that damn white. And when it all stopped, she lay still beneath him. Then her fingers squeezed his, and Draco let himself go. She was all right.
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Severus had been backed against the castle wall, fending off two young Death Eaters at once. Nott's young cousins, he thought they were, and felt no guilt about flinging the foulest curses he could summon at the two. After all, he remembered how they'd liked to sport with the prisoners at Death Eater meetings. He remembered all too well.
Not far away, he could still faintly see Weasley and Granger, back to back, moving steadily farther away toward the center of the dust cloud and where Potter must be buried. Voldemort was here, Severus could feel it in the burning of the old tattoo on his arm. It was agony on his arm, almost to where it was hard to think through. But he gritted his teeth and kept on, determined that he wasn't going to die at the hands of the pansy-faced little twits who wouldn't quit with the curses.
Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw a flash of blue robes at the steps of the castle. Dumbledore, he thought with relief. They could use the old wizard in this…
That was when it all blew up, the dark, the ground and the air around him. Screams and white light, and the ground rocked beneath his feet. Severus stumbled and fell to his knees, putting one hand against the castle wall to try and catch himself. He hissed in pain instead, jerking his hand back away and involuntarily looking to see why his hand felt like it had been brushed with a hot poker. Behind him, the castle wall was starting to shimmer, rainbows of color shooting over the surface of the stone. The ground shook more, and the dust combined with the white light made it impossible to see farther than his own hand.
And then it all stopped. All was still except for Severus' gasping breaths for long moments. He finally lifted his head to see bodies lying still on the ground. Some heads were beginning to lift, as well.
Forcing himself to the task in front of him, Severus gripped his wand with his good hand and muttered, cords lacing tightly about the two limp black forms before him. Then slowly and rather painfully he got to his feet. He felt old, he thought, gazing about at the black forms and children splayed about.
Granger was starting to sit up, looking dazed, and Severus forced his mind to work. "Tie them all up," he ordered in a croak that carried like a bullhorn through the silence. She looked over at him, and he saw there was blood on her clothes, but she nodded and began to try and stand herself. Weasley was lifting his own head, a low groan coming out of his mouth so Severus turned away, eyes scanning the grounds.
His eyes fell on the limp forms by the steps of the castle. He recognized McGonagall's robes and Dumbledore's. Dumbledore.
Painfully, Severus began to hobble toward them. As he did, he saw Minerva's head move a bit, and her hand lift weakly to her forehead. Dumbledore still lay still, however.
"Are you alright?" Severus said harshly to his fellow Head of Household as he drew near.
McGonagall grimaced. "A splitting headache but nothing damaged," she said in a voice that sounded rusty. "What happened?"
"I don't know," Severus said, lowering himself down next to Dumbledore. "Headmaster. Headmaster!" The old man was still silent and not moving. His fingers shook a bit as he felt for a pulse.
Behind him, there was a shrill cry. The Weasley girl. "Harry!"
Beneath his fingers, a pulse beat strong and steady. Severus felt relief spread through him, and then Dumbledore groaned and lifted his own head. "Headmaster?" Severus said anxiously, leaning down.
There was a faint smile, no sparkle in those eyes. Just sorrow, deep abiding sorrow. "Severus," the old wizard said. "I am alright, my friend."
As the old man began to sit up, McGonagall said again, "What happened?"
"Hogwarts protects its own," Dumbledore said slowly, painfully as they three got to their feet. They turned and gazed forward across the grounds. Bodies littered the grass, some still not moving. "Now the rest is up to us," he said sadly and Severus followed him down the steps.
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Whiteness. It was very soothing, that lack of color. Although he'd always heard that white was all colors combined, and black was the lack of color. So maybe it was the fact that all the color was there that was comforting.
And the silence… after the screams and sizzle of spells, it was so very soothing. He could stay here forever, drifting in this white.
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Sonora dragged herself to the front of the entrance, staring out the doors. She and Pomphrey had a whole hospital set up in the Great Hall, just waiting. When the castle had shook so violently, however, she'd fallen and lost her cane and could not find it. And that scream… it had terrified her to her very bones.
And now she stared out over the bodies splayed out across the grass and had to blink back the tears. So many… some were dead. She could see that in the awkward angle of the head or leg, in the very stillness of the chest. Some were bloody and some were hobbling about, cords wrapping about those dressed in black.
Her eyes still searched anxiously, and then she saw him, tall and strong still as he followed behind Dumbledore and Minerva as they slowly made their way toward the gates and what looked like the center of the mess. Every muscle in her went limp and she nearly fell.
"Oh, thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, Merlin, I still have him." And then she took a deep breath and fumbled for her wand. Now it was time to start healing.
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Ginny didn't know how long it took her, or how many people she'd checked to see if they were still alive, but she finally saw him.
"Harry!" the scream was ripped out of her as she stumbled across the ground, ignoring the groans around her, the other black robes that weren't bound yet. She was completely focused on that limp figure sprawled in a bare circle of where grass used to be.
She fell to her knees, rather painfully, as she jolted that broken arm. "Harry, Harry, no, please," she said frantically, good hand shaking so much she could barely get him turned over.
And then she finally got him shoved over and saw the dirt and blood still oozing from the cut on his face, and how still he was… "Please," she whispered, bending down awkwardly to feel for his heartbeat. "Merlin, please…"
A shadow fell over her as she felt the slow, the too slow thump beneath her fingers. "Miss Weasley," came the Headmaster's voice behind her, a weary and sad question.
"He's still alive," she choked out. Tears were dripping unwanted out of her eyes. "He's still alive!"
"So is he," came Professor McGonagall's sharp voice, filled with fear. Ginny jerked her head up to see the Head of Gryffindor, backing away from the only other body in that circle of burnt away grass. Voldemort.
"It's not over yet, then," came Snape's voice, hoarsely. "I thought only one could survive."
"Only one can," Dumbledore said. And Ginny heard grief in his voice.
She looked back down at Harry. "Come on, Harry," she whispered again. "You've got to. You've just got to."
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He wasn't worried about anything, wasn't thinking at all, in fact. He was just relaxed and soaking in that whiteness.
And then someone seemed to walk out of the whiteness. He stared. "Mum?" his voice seemed hoarse and uneven. "Mum?"
Lily Potter smiled and opened her arms. "Oh, my boy," she said softly and reached for him. He was wrapped in warm arms, a faintly familiar scent filling the air. "Oh, my boy," she said again, against his chest, still holding him.
Another figure came slowly out of the white. "You did good, son," said James Potter, a solid, strong hand dropping down to his shoulder. "You really did."
"We're so proud," his mother murmured, still cradling him close, like she would never let go. He hoped she never did.
Another figure appeared. "Hey, kid," said Sirius Black, looking young and rested and with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Can't we get past the mushy stuff?" Another hand came to rest on his other shoulder, and he wanted to close his eyes and soak it all in. His family.
"You're not done, you know," his father said softly, hand tightening.
"No," he said, hoarsely, turning his face against his mother's hair. "No more, please, mum, I don't want to. Not any more."
Her fingers smoothed through his hair. "Just like yours, James, it won't stay flat," she said, with a smile in her voice. Then she sighed. "Harry, we can't stay. We're not allowed to. You have people waiting for you, people who need you. People you still need." She slowly loosed her grip until she was simply holding his hand, looking up at him. Mum was shorter than he was, flitted through his mind. He never knew that.
"She's right, you know," Sirius said, mischief gone. He swung his head around to look at him pleadingly. Sirius nodded, looking a bit sad. "It's not over yet, and you've got to finish it."
"No more," he managed again, feeling the grief start to well up inside him. "I can't stand any more."
"Harry," his father said quietly. And he turned and looked at him, misery running under his skin. James Potter's eyes were sad and serious, and they looked straight into his. "This is what you need to do. You would never rest easy, here or there if you didn't, it's not in you." His father's other hand came up to touch his face, then drop to his other shoulder, next to Sirius' hand. "You can do this," James said. "We all believe in you."
He swallowed, knowing he had to and still not wanting to. "So many people died, because of me," he said thickly. "And I couldn't stop it, Dad, I couldn't save them…"
"Hey, Potter," came another voice. It made Harry jerk around and stare at another person. Two, really. Cedric. And Neville.
Neville cocked his head at him, and gave him that slightly shy smile his friend had shared so many times. "You know, it really ISN'T your fault," he said. Cedric nodded quietly, not speaking. "We all had our parts, you see." He nodded at Cedric. "His death is what made everyone realize that play time was over, that it was really beginning. Me," and then Neville laughed, and it was surprisingly light and joyous and happy in the midst of the talk of death. "Me, I guess I found what my place was, huh?"
His friend grinned. "I get to go down in history as something other than the biggest screw-up to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts. Now, I'm the person who saved Harry Potter." Neville grinned and shrugged. "I can take that as my destiny."
"But you're dead," he said, the words spilling out. "That shouldn't have happened, you should be alive."
Neville rolled his eyes. "Come on, Harry, it was war. And we knew it when we walked out the front door of Hogwarts, we might not walk back in. And I swear, if you don't get over this colossal guilt trip you're carrying around, I'll get Peeves to make your life a living hell."
"You can do that?" he wondered, hardly realizing he was speaking aloud.
Cedric grinned. "You'd be surprised," the other boy said.
Neville sobered a bit. "Finish it, Harry," he said, looking more serious. "Finish it, and you will save people. A lot of them."
His mother went on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "We love you," she said quietly.
"Absolutely," came Sirius' voice behind him.
He looked into his father's eyes, behind glasses so like his own. "Go get them," James said softly, and grinned.
And then he was thrown into blackness and whirling pain and agony and screams of misery until he lost where he was. Mum… he thought wildly. Dad. Neville. Sirius. Ginny. And then the blackness burst into shards of color and his mind went blank.
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AN: hee hee hee… don't worry, more to come, very soon!