The Dark Lady
Chapter 22 – The Numbers Lessen
By gracie5412
Thank you, as always! –
raushanara,KrYsTaLtEaRsOfApHoEnIx (x7) – to that I can only say wow! And thank you for all the reviews, and to answer your question there's no pairing really I didn't have the time to add a romance to it as well, which is a shame or at least so I think.
Typically, as it was whenever anything bad happens in tales, it was raining when Harry ran from the deatheaters and his former best friend. He was at a loss, Hermione's words, however harsh they had been, were true; Harry was torn between saving the life of his best friend or save all the people in Grimmauld Place.
Looking at Ron's face he knew that the boy in his arms wouldn't last out much longer, Harry could see that Ron's skin was loosing it natural rosy glow that was framed by his red hair, which accented it even more and being replaced with a pale grey-ish colour that one would associate with the waxy skin of a dead person. His eyes had remained firmly shut since the spell had hit him and he had fallen to the floor, not even a slight flicker of the lids to show that he would soon wake up from the sleep that had taken over him. The wounds to his body were still seeping blood that was now covering Harry too in the coppery warm substance that in the light looked pitch black not red at all.
If I don't do something soon he'll die Harry realised with sadness as he sped down the cobbled street as fast as his legs would allow him still being able to think clearly while he did so.
The sky was pitch black even though it was still only dusk. Dark shadows were cast along the street and the moon was blanketed in thick grey clouds so almost no light came from it. The only was it was possible to see was from the small pockets of grey gloom that illuminated the streets from the candles in people's windows. But this hardly helped at all. The floor underfoot was dotted with deep puddles already and the stones were slippery making it easy to loose balance.
Skidding to a halt as his eyes spotted something that would be of great use. A broomstick propped up against the wall of a house. Supporting Ron's weight with one arm Harry winced as he grabbed to stick with the other and, shakily, mounted it.
I could do with that spell Hermione used to do for me know, He thought bitterly as the rain hammed against the glass of his glasses, clouding his vision and the frames continually slipped down from the bridge of his nose so he had to tilt his head up in order to see. This didn't work though, as then the rain would have easy access into his eyes meaning he couldn't see at all.
The next problem was Ron, who, no matter how tightly Harry clutched to his frail, dying form, would manage to start slipping down to a level where Harry feared he would lose his grip and Ron would fall to his death, as soon as the broom reached any great speed.
This meant that they were making annoyingly slow progress, even though the hospital was only a few miles from where they had been it still took quite a while to get there and by the time they did both the boys were soaked and caked in blood.
"HELP!" Harry yelled as he touched down from the broom and ran into the building holding onto Ron "Somebody help!"
Three of the hospital staff ran up to him and pulled Ron from his arms.
"What happened?" One asked Harry as he followed them to a hospital bed where Ron was laid.
"Deatheater attack, his name Ron Weasly. I need to go." Harry said quickly before running down to the main entrance where the broom still lay on the floor exactly where it had been thrown before.
This time when he kicked off from the hard concrete of the floor he was able to gain speed until he was going as fast as the quite old modelled broom would let him. Unfortunately it was not a racing broom so it didn't go as fast as Harry would have liked it to.
But it would do, he told himself, he didn't trust himself to apperate with the state his nerves were in. he would probably splinch himself.
--
Finally Grimmauld Place came into view, now with windows lit from fires in various room and screams that Harry could hear as he flew towards it. He still thought it was amazing that the Muggles out on the street were completely oblivious to the fact that people were being murdered just meters from where they stood.
A woman's scream pieced the air as Harry landed in an alley to the side of the house. He winced as a window above him was smashed and he was showered with the glass fragments. Pulling out his wand he slipped inside through a window in a room that seemed to be deserted.
Not until he was inside and his eyes adjusted to the lack of light in the room did Harry see the three dead order members that littered the floor.
"Three of ours and none of theirs that doesn't look so good." He whispered to himself as he advanced into the hallway.
Flattening himself against the wall as two orders members ran along the hall in the opposite direction. Their robes were torn and their faces smeared with blood, weather it was their own or someone else's Harry did not know. But it lifted his sprits that there were still some of the order alive, if only very few.
But these hopes were shattered as he moved from room to room. He didn't meet any Deatheaters along the way, but there were an awful lot of dead bodies littering the floor. And, sad to say most of them were order members.
It seemed that he was too late, the word had been passed that he was returning and all the deatheaters had left the building leaving the injured to die and the house to burn.
--
A full search of the house had been complete and anyone living had been taken to St Mungo's and all the dead had been moved into the large dinning room on the ground floor. Harry and three others were the only live ones left in the house.
The two that had ran past Harry; Gary and Robert Elmwood, brothers, had gone round and put out any fires that they found before returning and helping Harry and Juliet, the other survivor, to move all the bodies to they could alert the families.
They now had the long, awful job of identifying the bodies and writing to the families so the body could be collected and a funeral arranged.
Juliet, a ministry worker, was used to filling in lots of paperwork so she offered to write the letters to the families. The three boys were glad, as that was a task that they weren't keen to do.
Gary and Robert started to look at the identity tags on each of the bodies and call the names out for Juliet to make a list. Harry watched with morbid fascination and wondered how they could all be so calm after such a horrible event. He asked them so.
"We work for the ministry Harry, we were there in the first battle, we've been taught that you can either breakdown and do nothing or you can carry on and get things done and try to put a stop to what's going on." Robert explained to him. "If we all lost our heads then these people would be left and not have the burial they deserve. This way we will be able to regroup troops, find out how many orders members weren't in the attack and go from there."
Harry could see the sense in that but he still couldn't stand to be in the room. He told them that he was going to check the house to make sure they hadn't missed anyone, dead or alive and quickly fled from the room.
The house that they had spent so many years restoring and cleaning and returning to its glory was now, once more returned into ruins. The furniture was ripped and smashed and charred. The walls splattered with blood and the people in the portraits had vacated to safer areas.
Windows were smashed making the floors crunch underfoot and the whole house was now freezing. It had an eerie feeling to it; you could tell that there had been many deaths in this place. An involuntary shiver travelled down Harry's spine as he walked slowly from room to room taking in the damage.
--
In St Mungo's the doctors had stabilised Ron, healed his wounds so he would loose no more blood and had repaired the broken and shattered bones. The burns would take a little while longer to treat and he would have to apply oil to them each night for a week for them to fully heal. Then they just needed him to wake up and he could be discharged.
The doctors had quickly left his alone in the room in order to tend to all the victims of the attack that had happened at Grimmauld Place.
Reporters swarmed in the hallways looking for anyone who was awake and able to talk so they could get the story of what had happened from a primary source. To no avail, of course, as soon as they got close to a room a nurse or doctor would appear and escort them back down to the reception area.
Fred and George, two of the lucky survivors quickly charmed their way from their beds and into Ron's room so they could sit their brother. The only one in their family left. Mr and Mrs Weasly had followed Ginny that night, as had Percy and Bill. They had no word from Charlie in the past few weeks and weren't even sure if he was still in Romania or if he had returned home. They still held out hope of course, as false hope is much better than no hope at all.
Harry joined the twins a few hours later and they all spent the night in the hospital, as at least it was a place that was safe. They avoided the topic of the future as none of them had an idea at what was going to happen but they all had the knowledge that it wouldn't be good. Too many people dear to them had been taken for things to ever be right again.
--
"Report!" Hermione ordered as a deatheater walked into her office.
"We arrived outside Grimmauld Place and surrounded the whole house, some flew up to the top of the house so they could catch the people up there too. We entered with ease and weren't detected until we sprung upon the first wave of people." The deatheater started to describe. "They weren't ready for us they had no tactics and a large amount didn't even have their wands with them. We killed as many as possible and injured the others until you set the signal to return through our darkmarks."
"And the people in hospital?" Hermione inquired.
"They're yet to release a set number but it is around sixty from what I heard meaning that there was at least another sixty in the building that were killed, maybe more. Some were ministry workers but most were fighters as that is where most of them live while they are in action in London." The deatheater declared.
"This is good." Hermione said with a smirk. "Malfoy! I want exact numbers! I want a list of the people dead and I want to know who's in hospital and how many have critical injuries stopping them from fighting anytime soon."
She then turned back to the deatheater. "Did any of you see Potter?"
"A few people saw him outside just before we were called to leave."
"Was he alone?" She asked eagerly.
"Yes, from what I gather Weasley wasn't with him."
"Good I can use the fact that he still thinks with his heart." Hermione smirked, another plan already forming in her head.
A/N – So Yay! I actually didn't take ages to update again. Just out of interest I wanted to know how many of you would have done what Harry had done? If you had the choice would you save a friend or would you help the large amount of people that needed your aid?
It's one of those questions that I can never answer, I would of course want to help my friend as that would be the person I am close to but I don't think I could cope with the guilt of knowing that because I didn't help there was at least sixty people dead and the same again all in hospital. Anyway, let me know what you think in a review or email and I'll try and up date again soon.
