Chapter 5 – Harry's Second Return
Ginny stepped into gray light and cold mist. Gathering her cloak tightly about her she looked around to determine her location. Quickly she recognized landmarks that told her she was but a few miles from Sirius' cottage. She cast a warming charm and began to trek over the hills towards home.
Even with her charm in place, the chill bit at her. In the land of the Sidhe, it had been eternal summer. This is home, she thought, best to get used to it. The thought that she would never be able to travel outside of England finally struck her. This was her land now, but she belonged to it just as much as it belonged to her. How would Harry feel about it, she wondered.
Topping the crest of a low hill, she found the land charred and burnt. Everywhere there was the residue of magic. Trees, still smoldering, cried out in agony. Their slow, plaintive songs of pain moved Ginny to tears and she found herself unable to leave without doing something to end their suffering. "Quiet now," she whispered softly and performed extinguishing charms to put out the embers. When the fires were all out, she cast a soothing spell on the whole area.
"A Leech!" the trees cried out in surprise. A great rustling filled the air, radiating out from the grove where she stood. Ginny bowed to the trees, said kind words, and departed. From that point on, the nature of her journey changed. Birds flew in to chirp and squawk at her, foxes, rabbits, squirrels and other animals lined the path. All called out to her, some in curiosity and greeting, many requesting healing either for themselves or their young.
Ginny healed those she could, but for everyone that went away satisfied, two more took their place. Even the rocks called out to her asking her to erase the scars of war they had suffered. It became apparent to Ginny that at this rate, she was never going to get anywhere. Treating the symptoms of war would never alleviate the cause.
"Dear friends," she addressed everything around her. "I know you've all suffered a great deal from war and destruction. I will do everything I can to return things to their proper order, but until the cause of the destruction is halted, the damage will continue. The land must have its champion, and when the Dark Lord is defeated, I promise to set everything right that is within my power…"
"A champion?" asked a myriad of voices. "Who? Where? When? Can we help?"
Ginny quieted them down. "Yes, a champion, Harry Potter. He has been injured and I am going to make him whole so that he can meet the Dark One in battle. You can help too, all of you. When Harry returns to the field, assist him in whatever way he request, and spread the word as far as you can that he is coming."
A hundred voices answered in the affirmative, and the crowd began to disperse. Despite the weather, the air became alive with the sounds of life that had previously been hidden. Ginny smiled. It was the sound of spring. She gathered up her herbs and her cauldron and resumed her journey. The trees spread their branches over her path to shield her from the drizzle, and birds sang happy tunes for her to keep her company. The walks went much quicker, and in short order she found herself at the cottage she shared with Harry.
She opened the door, took off her cloak, and hung it on a hook. The cottage was neat and tidy, not how she'd expected to find it at all, having left it in the care of two men. Memories came flooding back to her as she took in the familiar surroundings. While studying under Diancecht, she had been entirely too busy for such things as homesickness – now it all caught up to her in a rush.
"Sirius?" called a voice. It was Harry, and just the sound of his voice caused her heart to leap.
"No," she answered, "It's me…"
"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, and instantly appeared in the doorway. Ginny had to stifle a laugh at the sight of him. Over his robe he was wearing her checkered apron and carrying a wooden spoon. Harry rushed to her and put his arms around her and pulled her tightly into his chest. She put her own arms around him, and hugged him back as hard as she could. "You're finally home…I've missed you so much…" Harry whispered softly into her ear.
For long minutes, they remained that way. Ginny had no words to express her feelings. Although she knew that she was important to Harry, she had never known exactly how he felt. While Harry might be an emotional person, it was rare for him to show such personal feelings, and never had he shown such warmth towards her.
"Look at you," commented Harry, pulling her back so that he could look at her. "You've changed… I think you're taller even… and stronger… calmer… I don't really know how to describe it."
Ginny smiled. "You've changed too. You even look happy. Then there's the apron and the spoon. I just have to know what that's about."
It had been a lighthearted comment, but Harry's expression became serious. Ginny's smile faded as well and she wondered if she had said something wrong. His hand was still on her shoulders and he continued to keep his gaze locked on her. He leaned in closer, a struggle visible on his face. Cautiously and tentatively, he kissed her on the lips. It was a soft and gentle kiss, more of a question than a statement. Ginny was caught completely by surprise. As best she could, she returned it, but the moment was all too brief.
She had returned home as a Leech, as The Leech, and felt proud and accomplished. Within moments of returning, and with only a dozen words or so, Harry had swept all of that away. Now she was just Ginny. It was disconcerting, but not unpleasant. Her heart pulled at her, and she tried to reconcile the tangle of emotions she felt. She was 'Just Ginny' but she was standing in front of 'Just Harry'. The dream she had held so closely had become real in her absence. But what of Leech-craft and her great work? The answer was immediately obvious: she both Ginny and a Leech. She was 'Ginny, The Leech' just as Harry would always be 'Harry, The Champion'. To be their true selves, they had to be what they were, and the work that they each had to accomplish was as entwined as their lives.
She pulled Harry back to her, and kissed him. There was no hesitation this time, no surprise and nothing tentative about it. It was celebration and acceptance, and the promise of more to come, but mostly it was warmth. With this kiss, every second before now seemed cold, drab, and austere. As the moment ended, and they broke away to catch their breath, and retreated into their own thoughts, the world seemed more alive, the colors more vibrant, and the future full of promise.
Harry led her back to the kitchen. "Dinner's almost ready, and Sirius should be here soon." Ginny watched in amazement as Harry maneuvered around the kitchen with his own clever kind of efficiency. It was a matter of timing and balance, he explained, and a lot of practice. When everything was complete, he brought tea and sat at the table with Ginny. The serious expression had returned to his face.
"I'm going back to the war," Harry said.
Ginny nodded. "I never doubted that," she answered.
"I'm not going back as a figurehead though," Harry continued. "Probably not even to fight, but I'm going to do something, something meaningful and something real."
"What if you could back as a warrior and a champion?" Ginny asked.
"I would go in a second," Harry answered. "But part of my healing has been to accept the reality of my situation. I no longer feel helpless, but there are limits I have to respect. My days as a warrior are over."
"Not necessarily," replied Ginny. "There is a way you can be restored, made whole again."
"Please, Ginny," Harry asked with pain in his eyes. "I can't deal with maybes or false hopes. I have to accept this and carry on the best I can."
"It's true, Harry," Ginny said calmly. "It's why I left and why I was gone for so long. I learned some very ancient magic, and among other things, I can create a new hand for you – one that will function just as your old one did. You can be whole again."
Harry shook his head. "How is that possible? Why couldn't Madame Pomfrey do it?"
"It's very, very old magic, and it's only been done once before – well, twice sort of, and only two have ever known how. I'm the third."
"You can really do this?" Harry asked incredulously. Unconsciously, he rubbed at the end of his right arm, where his hand had once been. "What do I have to do?"
"The knowledge didn't come without a price, and the new hand won't either. I accepted it, but you are under no obligation to do the same. It requires a lifelong commitment, and once agreed to, the penalty for failure is death."
"Why would you agree to such a thing, Ginny?" Harry's face became one of concern. "I won't allow you to take such actions on my behalf. Get out of the bargain. I won't accept anything that requires you to put your life on the line."
"You don't have a choice, Harry." Ginny said firmly, seeming to grow in stature. "The choice was mine to make, and once made can't be unmade. At the beginning, I was doing it for you, but by the time my training was complete, it became something I decided to do for myself. You are very dear to me, Harry, but you are no longer my only concern. I'm going to join the war too. We can do it together, as partners, or I will go alone, and you can go roll bandages, or whatever it is you feel suits you best."
"Promise me you'll never do such a thing again," Harry said gravely.
"I promise you no such thing," Ginny returned. "You're choice is this: accept the hand I can create for you, and swear an oath of your own, or refuse and do what you feel best. Either way, I am going to join the fight. I am The Leech, and I have a job to do."
"What oath do I have to take?" Harry demanded.
"You must swear yourself to be the Champion and protector of England, both the land and its people. You will be the sword and hammer to its enemies. Your fate and England's will be the same. Once you swear this oath, you can never leave England or refuse to defend her, on pain of death."
"And what is your role in this?" Harry asked his voice softer.
"You will be the sword, and I will be the healing draught," answered Ginny. "My oath was much the same as yours."
"And we'll work together?"
"I never want to be anywhere you aren't," replied Ginny.
"Then I accept." Harry answered solemnly.
Ginny nodded. "I'll start working on it tomorrow, then. I'll need help to gather the materials, and it will take a few days.
"Anything," answered Harry. "Whatever I can't do, I'm sure Sirius will help with."
Sirius was, in fact, overjoyed to see Ginny again. Over a happy meal, they caught up on news and old times. With Harry in high spirits, it was the happy home she had always imagined. Harry and Sirius had a running joke about gnomes that she didn't get, but it was good to see Harry laugh for a change. Even Harry's cooking was good.
The next morning Ginny gave Sirius a list of the materials she would need for the crafting of Harry's hand. Sirius departed immediately to work on it. Meanwhile she set out to gathering the herbs that would be required. Harry accompanied her, and she taught him to recognize the various plants she was looking for. She introduced him to the trees and birds, and to the land itself. Harry learned quickly, as if he had a natural affinity for such things.
Later that evening, Sirius returned with the materials and ingredients she had requested. The next morning she began work in earnest, she drew blood from Harry to mix with the silver and locks of his hair, and began to shape the silver. Harry became her willing apprentice, and she frequently sent him out into the field to gather herbs. For three days, she never left her cauldrons. Each day was a continuous stream of stirring, adding and preparing ingredients, incantations and chants. At the end of the third day, the hand was crafted and she slept.
After almost twenty-four hours of sleep, she awoke. Harry fed her a large meal and then she summoned him for the next phase. Harry was ritually and elementally cleansed before the ritual began. Ginny placed on him the geas required by Diancecht, and then began the magic of joining Harry and the hand she had created. This ritual took three more days, and was a time of great pain for Harry as nerves were awakened, and sinew and bone knitted and were assimilated only by force of magic. At the end of the third day, they were both exhausted and slept.
Ginny awoke to find Harry in the garden flexing his new hand, brandishing his wand and casting spells. She watched him from the shadows as he exercised, and admired the grace of his motions, something she had never seen or noticed before. There was a grim determination that frightened her and fascinated her at the same time. She had never seen Harry in action since he had taken the sword of Gryffindor, but couldn't imagine that he approached his training with such ferocity. She almost pitied his enemies.
When Harry finished his work out, he came inside to find that Ginny had made breakfast for him. He smiled at her and ate with gusto, still using his left hand out of habit.
"Well, is the work to your satisfaction?" Ginny inquired.
Harry nodded. "It's a miracle. A bit heavier than the original, but truly amazing. I don't know how to thank you enough."
Ginny smiled. "You already have. If you feel the need to thank me more though, I'm sure we can work something out."
Harry answered her with a grin. "We have a war to end first, but I promise that when it is over, we'll see what we can do about that."
Ginny nodded, still smiling. "When are we leaving?" she asked. He was the Champion, the decision was his to make.
"Today," Harry answered. "Before noon, as soon as Sirius is ready. He knows where Ron and his army are encamped."
"Do you have a plan?" asked Ginny
Harry shook his head. "No, not really – reclaim the sword of Gryffindor if I can, but regardless of that, to take the battle to the enemy. Ron is cornered on the Lleyn Peninsula in northwest Wales and Hogwarts is under siege. Ron's situation is the most precarious, and he still has the sword, so we'll head there first."
Sirius led Harry and Ginny across the Welsh countryside. Ginny called up a heavy mist to shroud their passage and the world became muffled in sight and sound by a gray blanket. Limited visibility, however, was not enough to hide the scars and destruction of war. Everywhere they saw crumbled buildings, scorch marks, and signs of death and destruction.
It was dusk as they came to the perimeter of Ron's army. Sentries challenged them, and Sirius gave them the necessary passwords. The encampment was in a sorry state. More than half the wizards and witches present were wounded in one way or another. Even those not wounded carried a look of resignation in their eyes. Even the presence of three cloaked strangers in their camp went largely unchecked and unnoticed.
It wasn't until they approached the abandoned pub that Ron was using for a headquarters that they were stopped and challenged.
"Who are you and what do you want?" asked the sullen guard.
Sirius spoke for the group. "I'm Sirius Black, this is Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. We have a matter to discuss with Ron."
"Harry Potter, you say?" the guard asked sarcastically. "I suppose the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy will be along shortly?"
Harry pulled back the hood of his cloak and brushed back his hair so that his scar was visible. He looked the guard squarely in the eyes. "No Tooth Fairy, just me," he said. The guard wavered, and then let them pass.
Inside they found Ron and a group of Aurors huddled around a table. The mood here was as grim as it was outside. Every face in the room bore a scowl. As the three newcomers entered, all eyes turned to face them. Ron's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the faces before him.
"Harry! Ginny!" Ron exclaimed. "Where on earth have you been?"
"Ireland, Scotland," Ginny answered.
"We've come to help," Harry said. "We've heard you need it."
"I thought your fighting days were over." Ron said defensively.
Harry cast back his cloak and for the first time revealed his silver hand. "Things have changed and I can fight again. I gave my sword to you freely, but now I am asking for it back. Whether you return it or not, I am going to fight - by sword or by wand, it doesn't matter to me."
Ron scowled and remained silent for several minutes, then reached down and unbuckled his sword belt. "I'll give it to you with the same words you gave me – if you think you can do a better job, then please, by all means, do it."
Harry reached out and grasped the sword firmly. As soon as the hilt touched his metal hand, it began to vibrate and sing out, even through its scabbard. Harry secured the belt around his waist, and wrapped himself back in his cloak. "The battle will be in the morning," he said and turned towards the door. Ginny turned to follow him
"Wait!" Ron objected. "Don't you want to see the map? You need a strategy…"
Harry stopped, paused, then turned around. "Yes," he answered. "I'd like to see the map. Show me where the enemy is."
Ron, back in his element, showed Harry the map, the locations of his forces and the last known positions of their opponents. "From reports of the enemy massing, we are expecting attacks along this line, most likely as feints, then a main assault here. No attack is really expected before tomorrow evening. Draco likes to use the cover of darkness, and some of his troops don't work so well in the daylight, if you catch my drift…"
"Draco is leading Voldemort's army?" Harry asked in disbelief. Ron nodded in answer. "These troops here…" Harry asked, pointing at the map. "What are they doing?"
"Forward screen and decoy," Ron answered.
"And if Draco attacks them?" asked Harry.
"We have five to ten minutes of warning we wouldn't have had otherwise."
"Call them back," Harry ordered. Ron started to object, but Harry cut him short. "Do it!" Ron sent a runner to fetch an owl. "Call everyone back while you're at it. We attack in the morning."
"You're going to attack?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Are you insane? We're outnumbered three to one, poorly provisioned, wounded, and tired. We won't stand a chance."
"I can help there," Ginny said. Ron glared at her, but Ginny seemed not to notice. "I need a few helpers and a place to work." Ron summoned more messengers to help her, and Ginny left.
"I'll put it this way," replied Harry, not to Ron, but to the others in the room. "At dawn I am going to confront the Dark Army. If I have to go alone, then I'll go alone, but anyone who wants to join me is welcome."
"It's about time we go on the offensive," remarked an Auror. "I'm with you, and so is my company."
"Maybe we'll die," observed another, "but we're cornered already. We might as well go on our choosing, instead of Lord Effing-You-Know-Who."
One by one, each of the captains present pledged their support. When the last had spoken, even Ron relented. "It's bloody insane, but at least it'll be over with."
…
Ginny was shown to a pavilion, just off the Village Square. Once there, she called for firewood and such provisions as could be gathered. When these arrived, she put Diancecht's Cauldron on the boil and the smell of hot food soon brought a crowd. True to the magic promised by her teacher, the cauldron fed many more than would be believed. Once the food was being served, Ginny moved to the fountain in the square, added herbs, and began to summon healing magic from the earth itself. She passed out the healing elixir to all that passed. The consecrated water was enough to heal all but the most serious wounds.
Word spread through the army at lightning speed. Harry came to join her in her efforts, and ladled out the food, with words of encouragement for all. Invigorated by full stomachs, and strengthened by Ginny's magic, the general mood changed. Bravado took over and faces once downcast became bright. Sirius went about rounding up any that might not have heard the news, and did his best to build up excitement for the next day's battle.
The walking wounded seen to, Ginny turned her efforts to the more seriously injured. Using the full range of her Leech-craft, bones were re-knit, strength replenished, wounds closed, and poisons purged. Close to midnight, she finished with the last of the casualties, and returned to the square to find Harry telling stories before a rapt audience. For the second time that day, she found herself watching him from a distance, amazed at the person she saw. This was a different Harry – strong, sure of himself, and not afraid to assert himself. It was a miraculous transformation, and she was proud that she'd had a part in bringing it about.
Exhausted, Ginny went to stand by his side. Harry smiled broadly at her, put his arm around her as she approached, and kissed her on the cheek. The crowd cheered for both of them. Harry brought his story to a close and excused himself. He promised to see them all again in the morning. Arm in arm, Harry and Ginny returned to the Headquarters where room had been prepared for them.
"You were amazing, Harry," Ginny said to him once they were alone.
Harry blushed. "I didn't do anything, you did the real work."
"For me, it's something I do," Ginny countered. "With you it's different – it's what you are that matters."
"Whatever I am, you made me," Harry answered softly.
Ginny shook her head. "You were different before I got back…"
"I don't mean this," Harry replied, holding up his silver hand. "I mean here," he said tapping his chest. "Sirius helped too, but whatever strength or good you see in me is a reflection of yourself."
Ginny wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him with fire and passion. "I love you, Harry."
Harry held her tightly against himself. "I love you too, Ginny. When this war is over, my new mission is going will be to show you just how much you mean to me." Ginny kissed him again and they sat beside the fire, warmed from with in and without, until sleep finally claimed them.
Draco awoke before dawn as he usually did, dressed and went to the dining room. Instead of his House Elf serving breakfast, he found Lord Voldemort sitting at the table. Draco stiffened and greeted him formally. The Dark Lord was saccharine and magnanimous, insisting that Draco sit and join him. The House Elf was summoned and ordered to bring breakfast. Draco picked at his food gingerly while Voldemort ate with gusto.
"I've come to join the final battle," Lord Voldemort declared. "This will be the final battle, will it not?"
"Yes, M'lord" Draco answered. "The enemy is tired, battered and cornered with no where to run. Their only possible refuge is Hogwarts, and that, of course, is under siege. When Weasley is defeated, all efforts can be turned there, and resistance crushed."
The Dark Lord smiled. "You've done surprisingly well. I particularly liked the way you handled McInnis. It was a test, you know, and I rather doubted you had it in you to handle it properly."
Draco bowed to his master, but inwardly seethed.
"You have proved yourself most useful to me. I have decided to name you my heir and second in command. Do not, however, consider this a license for blind ambition. I know that you have been maneuvering behind my back. Such things are to be expected, however. Remember that you continue to live solely at my whim, heir or not. I will still destroy you should you fail or betray me."
Draco was dumbfounded. This was far greater success than he had allowed himself to hope for. "I am most grateful, M'lord. I remain your faithful and loyal servant. "
"I'm sure," drawled Lord Voldemort. "Now tell me of your plans to crush the upstarts. When does the battle start?"
"This evening," declared Draco. "I plan to use the cover of darkness. This will be little more than a mop up operation. They may fight a little harder than normal, knowing this is the end, but as usual, I have a few surprises planned for them."
Voldemort nodded and listened to Draco's order of battle plans and strategies. Intelligence reports were revealed as to the disposition of the enemy. When they were finished, Draco called for tea, and ordered the House Elf to open the drapes. Out side the world was still dark, and a thick fog lay on the land, promising that even the sun's imminent rise would bring little light.
"Blasted fog," cursed Draco. "The sooner I leave Wales, the better. If this doesn't lift, we'll have to delay the attack"
The Dark Lord scowled at the comment, but said nothing. Dim explosions were heard in the background but neither paid them any mind. Instead they drank their tea, and began to develop plans for the assault on Hogwarts. Their tranquility was shattered was short-lived and shattered when a panting messenger burst into the room.
"Sir, we're under attack!" the messenger exclaimed.
"Impossible," declared Draco. "Weasley would never attack with such a meager force…"
"It's true, sir," insisted the messenger. "I saw them myself. McNair is practically over run"
Draco grabbed his cloak and rushed outside. He started shouting orders, and slowly the camp came to life. The sounds of battle intensified from a distant rumble into a crashing roar. Death Eaters and other creatures began to trickle back, many wounded and dazed. Draco assembled a vanguard around himself and Lord Voldemort and began to move towards the noise, the fog was still so thick that sight was almost a useless sense.
Harry woke at 4 AM by the clock on the wall. He put a kettle of tea on the boil, and gathered up some biscuits, then gently roused Ginny. She smiled at him as she opened her eyes, and gave him a quick kiss. She then set about smoothing the wrinkles out of her robe as best she could.
They ate a quick breakfast before heading down to the common room, to find Ron and the other officers waiting for him.
"If you hadn't so obviously slept in your clothes," observed Ron, "you'd have to face me before you ever got a shot at You-Know-Who."
"Stow it, Ron," snapped Ginny. "None of us are children anymore."
Ron decided not to push the matter. "The troops are assembled and ready to move," he said turning his attention back to Harry. "Your lead, mate."
Harry nodded and continued on towards the door. Outside, in a very loose formation was assembled the entirety of the army of free wizards. At the sight of Harry, they snapped to attention and a cheer went up. Harry responded with a quieting gesture. "We don't want them to know we're coming just yet," he said. There was a general laugh. "I don't have a speech," he continued. "Ginny has given us a fog for cover, we know where the enemy is, and we have the element of surprise for us. Let's go fight."
Another cheer went up. Harry, with Ginny at his side, along with Sirius, Ron, and a company of bodyguards led the way down the trail that scouts had marked off during the night. Just over an hour's march later, the army halted to allow stragglers time to catch up to the main body. Animagi scouts transfigured themselves into human form and gave their final reports.
"Just atop this rise," reported a wizard who had been a raven mere seconds before. "A full company of Death Eaters – roughly two hundred of them."
Harry nodded and passed orders back to the troops. He then consulted with Ginny about the mist, and how she felt best suited to participate in the upcoming battle. When all was in readiness, Harry drew his sword and the forces behind him followed as he ran up the hill and fell upon the unsuspecting enemy.
The Death Eater sentries, weary from hours of staring into hazy darkness and longing for something to warm their insides, were quickly overwhelmed. Only one managed to sound anything resembling an alarm. Harry's blade sang as it sliced though resistance, and glimmered with red tinted light as he brandished it. His troops behind him hurled magic into the encampment, catching most of the opposing wizards as they emerged from their tents. Used to being on the offensive, the Dark Army found themselves poorly suited to fight defensively. What little resistance managed to organize itself wavered, crumpled, and fell into a full retreat. Less than fifteen minutes had elapsed since Harry had drawn his sword.
Harry allowed the troops a quick break to catch their breath and reorganize. Ginny had remained at his side throughout the battle but now tended to the wounded. Overall, they had suffered very light casualties, with a mere handful dead, and a score of wounded. The Death Eaters hadn't faired nearly so well though, more than half their numbers were either dead or seriously wounded.
"We no longer have surprise on our side," Harry told the troops, "but we do have momentum. The enemy is poorly prepared to repel us. All of you fought bravely, but this was only the beginning. Now we must face the main body of the army and Lord Voldemort himself." He smiled and drew his sword once more. "Let's go fight."
The army cheered. Harry went to Ginny, still tending the wounded and asked her to lift the fog. "You don't need me to do that," she answered. "You are the champion. The land will answer your call as quickly as mine. Go, I'll be along as quickly as I can. "
Harry nodded and gave her and a quick kiss. With the salt of her brow still on his lips, he gave the order to march. Before starting himself, he stopped. Ginny had told him that the land would answer his call, but he had no idea how to ask. Standing still, he closed his eyes and allowed his consciousness to expand. In this state, he found that he could actually feel strength entering his body, swirling around him. The courage and the spirits of his troops burned like a beacon in the landscape of his mind. "Mist," he said aloud, "aid me and my army. Lift yourself as we close with the enemy."
Without waiting for an answer, he opened his eyes, and ran to head of his formation. "No need for secrecy now," he shouted, "Make some noise." In the best tradition of Wizards, each began to sing – each their own tune, and each their own words. Already a breeze had arisen and the heavy fog began to thin and the light of the dawning sun, stretched tenuous beams of light towards them.
Draco had shouted himself hoarse trying to assemble his troops. A daylight fight meant he was denied the use of the Trolls, Ghouls, and others of his nastier, more terrifying troops. He had a contingent of Goblins and Acromantulas at the ready, but this was going to be primarily a battle of Wizard versus Wizard. Death Eaters outnumbered their opponents by at least two to one. Draco had to believe this was an act of desperation on the part of Ron – unexpected, to be sure, but desperate nonetheless.
The screams and explosions of battle died away followed by a tangible silence. A few dozen Death Eaters staggered back into the newly formed ranks. Draco ordered them detained for questioning, but it was a matter that would have to wait. His most immediate concern was to order as much of a defense as he could given the imminent attack. Lord Voldemort remained strangely aloof and uninvolved.
The silence ended abruptly with the sound of singing. A cacophony of voices pierced the gray shroud. It was not the sound of a desperate army, but one ready for a fight. As if the voices had a physical strength of their own, the mist began to lighten, and a stiff, fresh breeze of spring arose. Sunlight began to filter through. Draco gave sent orders to Aragog to assume the phalanx position with his brood. If Ron wanted to fight him, let him deal with spiders first.
The chaotic song grew louder and louder and the mist continued to dissipate. Shapes could now be seen across the small plain leading up to the village. Draco had never come into personal contact with his enemy, and the size of the force, even though he knew it was smaller than his own, gave him a shiver.
"What is your plan?" asked Lord Voldemort.
"To wait," answered Draco. "This has to be a ruse or a feint. It is too simple and too direct for Weasley. He has a trick up his sleeve, and now is the time he has to reveal it. Then, whatever it is, it'll to be countered."
"You are sure of this?" Voldemort queried.
"This is war," replied Draco. "Nothing is 'sure'." A gust of wind came that removed all but the most stubborn remnants of the fog away. Aragog and the Acromantulas chattered viciously at the approaching enemy. "Any second now," Draco said.
The army did not change direction, as expected but increased its speed, hurling itself toward the spiders. Draco scanned his surroundings, looking for some new threat, but found nothing. "It's coming," he insisted. "Send orders for all units to hold their positions."
Volleys of magic erupted from the opposing army, falling mainly on the Acromantulas, but some missing their mark and crashing into the mass of Death Eaters. The frenetic song halted and became replaced by the sounds of battle. Draco watched from his safe distance as spiders and Wizards became thriving mass of struggle.
Harry moved at a light jog ahead of the troops. Sirius and Ron remained close. As the emerged from the scrawny woods, Harry called out to the wind to pick itself up and clear the mist from the plain that was soon to become a battleground. Dark eight-legged shapes became visible. Harry halted, Ron's fear was evident. "What are we going to do?" asked Ron.
"Squash them like the bugs that they are," Harry answered. Ron nodded and shuddered. "I have a request to make of you, though," Harry continued.
"You're running the show, tell me what you want."
"It's not like that between us, Ron." Harry answered. "We're friends, at least as far as I'm concerned. Fall back, gather a company of men from the rear, and maneuver around the village to the rear. I want no lines of escape. Hold your position unless things go very badly."
"Alright, Harry," answered Ron. "Nothing will get past me. If you need me send up a red flare." He then fell back through the approaching ranks.
Harry signaled the charge and battle cries were let loose as the distance to the arachnids closed. The Acromantulas rushed to meet them, hurling poison and sticky webbing to impede them. Harry hurled himself through their ranks, blade slashing great arcs, limbs and torsos falling like rain around him. He continued on, hewing a path through the spiders, intent to reach the other side. Once there, he found himself face to face with Aragog.
"Sssso, we meet againnn…" hissed Aragog, "You will not escape me this time, I will drink your blood and wear your skeleton around my neck as a trophy, young Harry Potter."
Harry made no answer except to bring his sword back to the ready. Aragog lunged at Harry with surprising speed given his bulk. Harry dodged nimbly, spinning beneath his opponent's torso, his sword in constant motion, looking for something to bite into. It found one of Aragog's forelegs and cleaved it off.
Aragog leapt away in pain and fury. He hurled venom at Harry. Rolling out its path, the poison struck Harry's cloak, eating the cloth away where it struck. Aragog grew a new sense of caution, warily circling, and feinting; trying to find a weakness in Harry's guard. Harry feinted right, and then dove left, rolling underneath Aragog's torso once again. Aragog reared onto his hind legs, trying to get himself clear of Harry's singing blade. Realizing that so long as he remained close, he had the advantage, Harry lunged for Aragog's bulk.
The giant spider realized that he was in trouble and began to hop about wildly to get clear of his opponent. Harry knew that it was only a matter of time before he was crushed, went for Aragog's remaining legs. The sword of Gryffindor sliced through chitin as if it were paper. Harry carved through a third hind leg, and the arachnid was no longer able to maintain its own weight. Aragog fell lopsidedly to the ground.
Harry had to roll to keep from being pinned. Having narrowly escaped, Harry paused to catch his breath, and draw in more strength from the earth beneath him. Panting, he was struck by a blow. Rather than being knocked to the ground, he instead found himself being pulled towards Aragog.
"Fool," spat Aragog. "I can grow new legs, I am only temporarily crippled and even that isn't enough to keep me from devouring you."
Confined be a mass of webby strands, Harry felt a tinge of fear. Aragog continued to gloat over his assured victory paid little attention to the actions of his prey. Deftly, using the unyielding strength of his new hand, Harry repositioned his sword and began to saw though his bonds.
"Die with the knowledge that your blood will be the first to contribute to my healing." Aragog spoke. Harry was within inches of his gaping maw. Poisonous vapors wafted past him. "It's a pity I don't have the time to prolong the agony of this," continued Aragog. "But I have other matters to attend to."
"I was just thinking the same thing," countered Harry. His sword arm now free, he brought the sword around in full arc and with all his weight behind it and buried it in the thin sliver of exoskeleton between Aragog's multi-faceted eyes all the way to the hilt. Aragog screamed and writhed in agony. Harry yanked out his sword. Still partially constricted, he struggled to rid himself of the remaining webs.
The death scream of their patriarch had a withering effect on the remaining Acromantulas. The Aurors and other Wizards seized the opportunity, and fought harder. The few surviving spiders turned and ran. Once again the Army of Light stood on a field devoid of enemies. Once again they cheered.
"I thought you said the enemy was battered and beaten!" shouted Lord Voldemort. "I thought you said this was a feint!"
"He was… it should have been. Weasley doesn't fight like this."
"Crush him! Now!" snarled the Dark Lord. "Failure is not an option."
Draco ordered a general charge. The masses of Death Eaters launched forward. The opposing army still possessing the fury of battle stood its ground, and began to launch curses and fire. The two lines met and fell into general melee. Despite superior numbers, the battle was evenly matched. It was impossible to tell, from Draco's viewpoint, which way the battle would turn.
Harry had just removed the last of Aragog's web, when he saw the mass of Death eaters descending on his position. His troops had already started to form up in expectation of the new attack. Already they were laying down suppressing fire and claiming casualties from the enemy. Harry reached out again with his mind and called forth the power surrounding him to help repel the attack. The ground began to rumble in response.
As the Death Eater ranks closed on him, Harry once again became a whirlwind of action, sword in one hand, wand in the other, he threw curses while slicing down dark robed enemies. Scores fell to curse and blade, but there always seemed to be more to take their place. Suddenly the ground erupted and boulders flew into the Death Eater ranks. The advance of the Dark Army halted.
Slowly, imperceptibly at first, Harry's army began to push back the line of Death Eaters. The earth began to spew boulders into the ranks of the enemies, then just as suddenly, a murmur went through the Black ranks, and they turned and ran. Harry, with his forces behind him, charged through the crumbling ranks, passing many of them. Harry sent up a red flare to summon Ron into the fray. It was then he took the time to look around, and saw on the ridges over looking the valley they occupied, the innumerable silhouettes of white robed Wizards.
Harry could see the wizards, but he could not 'feel' them. It occurred to him then, that they were not really there. They were an illusion, most likely created by Ginny. He laughed to himself, and continued his charge, slicing through Death Eaters as he went. Entering the small village that had been the base of operations for the Dark Army, he saw a sight that even now, chilled his marrow: the silvery white hair of Draco Malfoy, and beside him the robed and cloaked figure of Lord Voldemort. Like a man possessed, he sprinted towards the two with no regard for his own safety; another score of enemy fell as he cut his way towards the pair.
"Potter!" screeched Voldemort. Draco wheeled in response.
"You said that Potter was neutralized!" screamed Draco. "How the bloody hell is he wielding a sword and a wand at the same time if he is neutralized?"
"Why the bloody hell is my army crumbling before my eyes if the enemy is battered and defeated?" countered Voldemort with venom in his voice. "And who in the nine circles of hell are they?" he demanded, pointing at the white robed figures lining the horizon.
"I don't know," admitted Draco. "Something is wrong here. This just shouldn't be. Nothing makes sense."
Harry continued to advance towards them, cleaving through their contingent of bodyguards as he did so. His face set in a grim mask. He was a cyclone of death to all that opposed him, and his course never wavered from his goal.
"Do something!" hissed Voldemort.
"You're the god damned Dark Lord, you do something," shouted Draco in return. Normally such an outburst would have earned him a painful death, but Voldemort didn't seem to notice.
"We must retreat," Voldemort finally said. "Back to Anglesey, we'll redouble our efforts on Hogwarts and crush the enemy there."
"What of the troops?" asked Draco.
"What of them?" returned Voldemort. "They will buy us precious time."
Harry was mere feet from them, drenched in blood, and not showing the slightest sign of slowing down. "You're mine," he shouted at them. Both Draco and Voldemort felt fear.
"Not today," answered the Dark Lord, and then both he and Draco were gone.
Author's note: First, thanks to Shadowface, Softwhispersnow, and FSI for their consistent and kind reviews. It's good to know someone is reading… Chapter 6 will be posted next week.
Part 2 of Legacies is in progress now, so hopefully there won't be much of a delay between its start and the end of Part 1. Things are really busy right now, but I manage to get at least a little writing done every day… I have some nice surprises planned for part 3
From its inception, I planned Legacies to be my swan song for the world of fan fiction. I'm not absolutely firm on that, because Construction of Light is still knocking around in my head, but I'm working on a couple of original projects, and once you start creating your own worlds, banging around in someone else's just seems kind of futile. Maybe one day, you'll read a story and notice a common turn of phrase, and you'll know it's really me.
