Chapter 30
(A/N: The battle will most likely be posted in more than one part, but I'll try to post them as close together as I can; roughly 26 different POVs will be depicted, my apologies to those of you whowould rather I only do one.A.S.Leif)
Remus Lupin walked firmly beside the supposed Harry Potter, his robes billowing behind him, a slight scowl on his face. After all, Severus Snape would not be pleased that he had to escort the 'Boy-Who-Lived' to a meeting during his summer vacation.
Merlin, I hope this turns out alright, he thought. He couldn't help but wonder how this was all going to end. He prayed Harry would live, even if he didn't.
"We're approaching the travel-stop." Albus said, and motioned to a fairly large rock that resembled a potato: the portkey to the rendezvous point. The Envoy team formed a circle around it, careful to keep 'Harry' protected. Remus' scowl deepened as he stood closer to Harry, who returned the scowl. I think we're doing rather well, Remus thought with an inner grin, Merlin knows I never thought I'd find myself playing Snape.
He put a hand on the rock as Albus counted down; when the Headmaster reached zero, the familiar jerk behind his navel followed, and the landscape blurred past until it settled into an entirely new one. Rather than an oak forest, they were standing in a large, grassy plain with a few boulders here and there. Despite the boring look, Remus had every inch of the place memorized. For instance, he knew that exactly seventeen meters from his left, there was a ditch in the road, and thirteen more meters was a stream. On his right, nine meters away, was a boulder that had a hidden cache of potions inside it, which could be accessed when pushed on the right place.
The group walked over to the large tent that housed the U.S. Envoy. As they got closer, Remus felt the back of his neck prickle, and he noticed 'Harry' tense beside him. Remus cast a suspicious glance around, pretending not to notice the dark dots that appeared on the horizon, darting behind the boulders, or the hawk that soared directly above them for a few minutes, then wheeled away to the south.
At last they arrived, and they began to prepare. A charm was placed so that it would sound like they were having a conversation, when in fact they were changing into battle-gear. Potions were handed out along with daggers, and the M.D. team began to warm up, anticipating the battle to come.
"So far so good." Remus murmured.
"Nothing in war turns out the way it is planned," Harry said, a bit too coldly.
Remus smirked, "You're slipping Potter."
'Harry' glared at him, "I swear Lupin, I will hex you the moment this is over, whether I am dead or not."
Sirius came over, grinning. "Aw, don't worry Harry, we'll make it." In response, 'Harry' glared, and got himself ready.
Remus found his thoughts wandering to his friends, Selena specifically. He wondered if she would be alright. Yes, she was a Slytherin, quick witted, and a good fighter, but sometimes she tended to make rash actions to help someone else, doing anything within her power to help, even if it cost her something dear. Be careful, he thought, praying that somehow she would hear him. He'd said good-bye and good-luck to her early that morning, but it didn't lessen his worry at all. He wanted to see her after this, wanted to tell her something, but he wondered when—if at all—he would get the chance. He smiled. Sirius knew something was between them, but Severus didn't, for all his talent in spying; Remus had the feeling that the potions master would completely flip out if he knew.
After a few minutes of anxious preparation, the alarms went off from the muggle technology station there. "We've got company," the MTI said, checking the screen, "Quite a bit. About fifty humans, and" he frowned, looking at the screen closer, "Looks like we've got some cold spots approaching."
"Dementors," Sirius growled, and got out his wand, so did everyone else.
Sure enough, Remus felt the temperature drop slightly, and he looked at his best friend. "Good luck Padfoot," he said quietly.
The former convict nodded, his face tighter than usual, the usual mirth replaced by a grave expression. "Same to you Moony." The two clasped hands, and stepped outside with the others, ready to face that which came.
A large line of dementors met them, and the friends looked at each other once more. "For Harry?" Remus asked quietly.
Sirius nodded. "For Prongs and Lily." He smirked, "And Sel too." Remus smiled slightly in return, a sense of foreboding rising in his gut.
Simultaneously, the two friends raised their wands and shouted: "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The war had officially begun.
She stood beside the MTI, waiting fretfully for any change as she watched, though she didn't truly see anything, she was too busy thinking. Her mind was flooded with a hundred different questions and worries. Would Ron be alright? Would Harry? How many would Voldemort bring? What if they were terribly outnumbered?
Stop it, she scolded herself, you're acting like a first year right before exams.
"Ms. Granger?"
She looked up, "Yes Professor?"
"Any change?"
Hermione quickly checked the screen, "No Professor."
McGonagall nodded, and resumed her pacing. For several minutes, Hermione was able to keep herself calm by repeating her History of Magic notes from the previous year. She started with the Code of Conduct for 1894, then worked her way up to the Warlock Conventions of that year.
Then, the bleep of the muggle technology drew her attention. "What is it?" she asked the MTI earnestly.
The young man looked at the screen, "Looks like trolls, coming in at three o'clock. 'Bout twenty o' 'em." He peered closer. "An'… Death Eaters, 'bout fifty of 'em at eleven o'clock." He tilted his head to the side, "Transmission from the tent: dementors've arrived, along with more Death Eaters—no sign of L.V. yet."
Hermione relayed this information to McGonagall, whose mouth became a thing line. "It begins then," she murmured, and straightened, getting out her wand. The elderly witch turned to the animagus whose form was an eagle. "Spot check, if you please." The young woman nodded and was up in the air within seconds. Hermione would have sighed with envy at her ability had the situation not been so grave.
Only seconds later, the scout returned. "The readings are correct," she said with a slight French accent.
McGonagall nodded, and turned to the other captains. "This is most likely the first wave; proceed with plan L, but with caution, we don't want to suffer any damage this early." They nodded, bowing slightly as they went to gather their teams.
Hermione got out her wand, watching the horizon until the trolls came into view. She waited until she could see their clubs, then began to cast the Levitation spell, in honor of Ron. She levitated the first troll's club out of its hand and brought it crashing down on the thing's head. After seven hits, the troll fell, making the ground shake. Seeing one of their own down, the trolls began to charge, yelling their fury as the Death Eaters began to appear.
The Russian Aurors began to launch high-power curses at the dark warlocks, bringing down those who couldn't get a shield up in time. Unlike the British Ministry Aurors, they had no second thoughts about killing dark wizards and witches, but Hermione did not think any less of them for it as she moved on to the next troll.
Alastor's magical eye whizzed about, scanning everything. Something was about to happen, he could feel it. After all, he wasn't considered a paranoid old coot for nothing. He chuckled inwardly to himself; he wasn't truly paranoid, it was just for show. Yes, he could get rather jumpy, but anyone would be after being subjected to a powerful memory charm and locked in their own trunk for a year.
"We've got an update," the MTI reported, "Dementors and Death Eaters have started at the Tent, and Stickers are engaged as well with Trolls and D.E.s."
Moody nodded. "Anything near us?"
"Negative."
He stumped away, cursing his peg-leg as it sank slightly into the muddy grass. His forces were stationed near a slightly marshy area, though it was well defended with rugged terrain that was hard to get into, but not verydifficult to getout of.
Krum was waiting for instruction with the other Bulgarians. He wasn't a bad dueler, the lad just had trouble communicating, and was slightly nervous with Alastor, not that he minded. Nervousness made people more observant, in Mad-Eye's opinion.
A few sharp yells could be heard in the distance, and Alastor sent out a scouting party to see if anything was on its way. They came back just as the MTI reported an approaching group of creatures.
"Chimeras," the falcon-scout clarified, "They look like they're heading east of us. If we stay put, they'll pass us by; if we attack, we can catch them by surprise using the left border."
Alastor thought about it. "We stay put," he said finally, "team Venom will be able to deal with them quick and painless; vampires are able to easily deal with them."
Then, another bleep came from the MT screen. "Death Eaters," the MTI said, "Dead north—no pun intended." A few of the Lycan Americans chuckled.
Moody nodded, "We'll deal with those. Arm-up." He ordered the officers.
"Alright, Team B! Transformation potions on the double!" ordered Dom. Six of the thirteen W-Group members pulled out potion vials from their belts and drained the contents. Soon, the sound of yips and snarls rose into the air, and six, fully-transformed werewolves were standing alongside the other human-shaped werewolves.
Alastor shook his head, the Americans had come up with some crazy ideas, but this one was one of the rather brilliant ones. They'dinventeda potion that allowed a werewolf to transformbefore of afterthe full moonhad wanedand still keep their human minds.The potions were only used for battle though, since no Lycan truly enjoyed transforming.
Moody watched as the black-cloaked figures got closer, and he raised his hand; the troops fell silent. "First wave up!" he ordered, and several aurors rushed forwards, firing offfreezers and irreversible stunners. The transformed werewolves followed after, rushing onto the field as they howled, then began to leap at the Death Eaters, tearing and biting with all the ferocity of their beast natures.
He steepled his fingers as Wormtail reported: Potter had arrived to speak with the U.S. envoy, to gain their alliance; he could not allow that. "Very well," he said quietly, "Gather half a company of Death Eaters, and twenty five of the dementors. Take them to the site, but bring Potter and the traitor to me," his red eyes narrowed to slits, "Alive. Understood?"
The pathetic rat nodded vigorously and bowed deeply before leaving hurriedly. Voldemort rubbed his temples in annoyance, Pettigrew was such a bother, he had worth in only a few areas, but those areas were rather useful. Personally, Voldemort would rather kill the coward and be done with it.
Roughly a half an hour later, Wormtail arrived once more. "M-Milord?" he squeaked.
Voldemort opened his eyes and stared boredly at the piece of filth before him. "What?"
Pettigrew shuffled his feet, Voldemort could smell the fear on him; that could only mean bad news. "It failed," the balding man squeaked, "They were prepared a-and the Death Eaters are either dead or captured, M-Milord. Half of the dementors fled, a fourth of them came back, and a fourth were k-killed Milord. The A-Americans were very well trained, and were animagi—dragons and basilisks Milord."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes once more in a venomous manner. So Dumbledore wanted to play that way, did he? "Send out a scouting party," he snapped, "I want to know the exact locations of the other groups Dumbledore has waiting."
"O-other groups, M-Milord?" Wormtail squeaked. Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow and the pitiful slimy excuse of a wizard recoiled, "M-my apologies, Milord; it will be done i-immediately."
"Oh, and Wormtail," Voldemort called as he began to leave, "Once you have the positions, send out a company to each; I want them all dead by the time the sun sets." He smiled cruelly, looking down at Nagini, "Perhaps I will even give Potter a little visit once I find him."
Helga trotted beside Harry, who was in werewolf form. They were making their way past a group of Chimeras that were headed south, most likely towards team—what was the name?—team Rangers. The fact that dark creatures were on the move meant that Voldemort was aware of the situation, that a fight had begun, and therefore their job was to find him.
'Anything yet?' she mentally asked Salazar, who was running as a black fox on her left.
'Nothing,' he replied after checking for any Parslemouths nearby. Such an odd form o' magic, Helga thought to herself. 'I will alert you should I sense anything,' Salazar finished, she nodded.
Albus reflected a pain curse back at the castor, causing them to yelp. The Death Eaters were reducing rapidly in number, despite the small number fighting against them. He had to admit, the M.D. team was truly a blessing. Their dragon and basilisk shapes made quick work of the offending wizards and witches, and they were also immune to the effects of the dementors.
Albus quickly wrapped up four Death Eaters with a flaming rope, their heads fell to their chests instantly in a deep sleep similar to that of the Draught of Living Death. They fell to the ground, and Albus moved on to his next fight, dodging any stray curses.
After half an hour, the last of the dementors fled, and several of the Death Eaters lost their nerve and ran after. A cheer rose up from Sirius and some of the Americans, causing Albus to smile faintly. He checked the wards on the area, and was able to see that Harry, the real Harry, was a little ways away from Selena's camp, and also that more enemies had appeared about a mile away from the envoy Tent.
"Rest while you may," he told the others, "More are coming."
Sirius grinned, "Bring 'em on."
'Harry' snorted, "You do not take this serious enough Black." He sneered, revealing the fact that it was indeed Severus.
Sirius' grin only widened. "C'mon Harry, I'm 'Sirius' all the time."
Severus-Harry sneered in reply and re-cast a cooling charm on himself, then looked at Albus. "When may I change back?"
Albus smiled, "Whenever my boy; however, I do think it would be rather confusing for there to be two of you on the battle field."
Remus-Severus gained a mocking look of disappointment, "And I was just getting used to it too." He grumbled.
Sirius laughed. "Yeah, now he doesn't twitch when his robes billow."
Severus-Harry glared at them, and removed the antidote for the potion from his belt, then downed its contents and headed back to the tent. A few minutes later, he re-emerged, looking like the Severus Albus knew, complete with the usual scowl, which was absent on the other Severus' face.
"If you don't mind, Lupin?" he said, slightly glaring at the copy of himself.
Remus-Severus shrugged, "Alright, alright; I'm going." Then he too, swallowed the antidote and went into the tent to change back.
Albus smiled, "I must say Severus, you did rather well portraying Harry."
"With all due respect, Headmaster," Severus replied stiffly, "Never ask me to do it again."
Albus smiled, "Of course, my boy." He then turned to check the wards once more, and found that the dark forces were coming closer. Glancing at the horizon, he noticed small black dots appearing. I do hope you're alright Harry, he thought as they got closer, I am sorry for having to put you through this, I truly am. I hope we both live long enough for me to tell you in person; I have faith in you Harry.
Getting out his wand as the shapes began to take on a more distinct shape, Albus heard someone come up beside him—it was Severus.
"Headmaster," he began hesitantly.
"Yes, my boy?" he replied.
Severus kept his gaze forward. "I—wanted to…thank you, for all that you've done; for allowing me the chance to—atone, for what I've done in the past. For giving me a second chance."
Albus smiled, he doubted that there was anyone who deserved a second chance more than Severus; a lifetime of working with the wizard had taught him that. He knew that Severus' life had been a hard one, and that was why he had taken him under his wing, to help him live his life in a better way and to heal old wounds that were slow to closing. "You deserve it my boy," he said, "I know you regret the things you had done, and you have done more than make up for them. Rest easy, my boy, soon, you will no longer have to think of those things again."
Severus nodded, "Thank you." He looked at Albus, "May I ask you something?"
"Certainly."
"Would you please not call me 'my boy'?"
Albus' smile widened and he laughed, his voice carrying over even to the Death Eaters that prepared to attack, unnerving them with its full-hearted cheerfulness.
Tylore jumped above a curse, and lunged for the castor, spearing him on his sword. The blood traced crimson trails down the side of the silver blade, and he jerked his blade free as the wizard dropped to the ground, the life fleeing from his body. "Vertigone ferorzai," Tylore murmured, placing his middle finger to his thumb and touching his brow; the traditional way to honor an enemy's death.
He quickly moved on to his next victim, slashing out at tendons and places that caused large amounts of blood to be lost in a short amount of time. With each kill, he honored the fallen, though by doing this, he received several small wounds. They did not harm him, as they healed themselves quickly, not even leaving the slightest mark.
Tylore checked over his shoulder after dispatching another chimera, and saw Selena in trouble; well, not by her standards. For some reason, the witch thought she was capable of fending off seven chimeras at once; oddly enough, sometimes she could. He shook his head, and threw a knife at one of the crystals on a chimera's back; the creature froze, and Selena finished it off.
He had to admit, she had taken rather well to her vampire shape, and could act quite like one when needed; most humans would faint when asked to converse with a vampire. Tylore nimbly dodged a killing curse, allowing it to hit the Death Eater behind him instead, and then he sliced the other's head off in a quick swipe, once again honoring them in their death.
Hagrid caught a Death Eater in the chest with his fist, sending the much smaller wizard flying into a boulder. Swinging his fists wildly but with some technique, Hagrid plowed his way through the seemingly endless stream of Death Eaters. It was rare that Hagrid got angry, but now, he was furious and that is what fueled Hagrid's energy now.
He remembered the deaths of James and Lily, and how poor Harry was forced to grow up thinking they'd died in a car crash, not knowing about magic, not knowing what it felt like to have people care for him, and the pain Harry had endured for the weeks he'd been captured. In his opinion, Harry was like a little brother, and no one messed with Rebeus Hagrid's little brother, whether it was Grawp or Harry. Not a Death Eater, not a dementor, not Voldemort, no one messed with his little brother and it was hightime they realized that.
Ron Weasley threw a shield out to block a bone-breaking hex, he then returned with a burning hex. It caught the offending Death Eater in the chest, but they didn't stop, instead fired Cruciatus after Cruciatus. Ron did his best to dodge them, but one got his ankle and he fell to the floor with a scream.
He couldn't begin to describe the agony that swamped through him, it was so painful. He couldn't begin to imagine how Harry had gone through this for the weeks he was in this very stronghold.
Suddenly, the curse ended, and Ron found an Auror standing over him: Tonks. "Alright there?" she asked, holding a hand out to him.
Ron weakly grasped it and she heaved him up. He fumbled in his belt and pulled out the Cruciatus-Immunization potion. He gasped at the coldness. "Don't know why I didn't drink it earlier," he mumbled.
She grinned, "Careful, I can't loose my second in command." The Metamorphagus scanned the area, and ducked a jinx sent her way, then returned fire. "Go check up on the MTI," she ordered.
Ron nodded and jogged off, ducking behind pillars and fallen stones to keep out of site. He had to fight off a Minotaur, which took him precious minutes, and then a Death Eater, whom seemed surprised that the Cruciatus didn't work. Ron sent his patronous charging at the evil wizard, and dispatched him with a black-out hex.
He raced to the cover where the MTI was hidden and asked for an update. "Nearly empty," the witch replied, "NO sign of Voldie or dementors, just Death Eaters. The Auror squads are arriving though."
"Thanks," Ron said, and jogged outside, where he met the three teams from the British Ministry.
"You needed help?" one asked gruffly, wand already out.
Ron nodded, "One last shove and we'll have 'em backed up into the last hall. There aren't any escape routes from there, and we can finish 'em off easy."
"Then what're we waiting for?" another barked, "Let's go!"
So Ron led them back through the maze of pillars and passages to where the main fight was, having to duel several Death Eaters and Chimeras on the way. However, with the Aurors on his side, it was no trouble at all.
Ron found himself thinking about Hermione more and more as they began to win. He wondered if she was alright, he knew that she would be in more danger than him, and that made him worry. He wanted to be there too, making sure she didn't get hurt. But he was needed here, just like she was needed there. He wondered if they would ever get past the dating stage; then again, he had no idea what to do after that. I'll worry about that once this is over, he thought, if we make it through.
Someone screamed on his left, and Ron jerked out of his thoughts: an Auror had been hit by the Killing Curse. All of a sudden, the air was filled with green light, and more and more people fell to the ground—dead; only two of them were Death Eaters. Ron's stomach churned as he tripped over a body in his haste to escape one of the Killing Curses himself: it was a witch just a little older than him.
Ron wrenched his eyes away and began to fight with a new ferocity. The Aurors began to fight back with the Unforgivables, and more Death Eaters fell. Ron ducked an unknown hex, only to be blown backwards into a pillar by another. His wand rolled away from his hand as his vision blurred. He'd heard something crack, most likely a rib. The Death Eater approached, his mask gone, revealing a sneer. "Nighty night," he taunted, and raised his wand, pointing it at Ron's chest. "Avada-"
So this is it? Ron thought, straining to move, I'm sorry Herms; I'm sorry Harry, mate. Good luck.
As the Death Eater finished the last syllable of the curse, time slowed for Ron and he watched as it came closer to him. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact: it didn't come.
He heard someone yell his name, and then a scream as something thudded into him. Ron opened his eyes and found a limp body draped over him and the Death Eater was gone, vanished all except for his robes and wand.
Ron rolled the body over and his face paled: it was Percy.
She flapped her wings, firing off bursts of flames at any of the minotaurs that came within range. 'Are there any clear spots as of yet?' she asked.
Godric slashed with his talons at a Death Eater, disemboweling the wizard. 'Not yet, there might be one a bit to your left in a second though, will all your pyro behavior.'
Rowena would have smiled, had she been human; trust Godric to joke during a time like this. However, it did tend to make things more bearable rather than gruesome and guilt-laden. She did not like taking lives, but now it was a must.
She ducked behind the shield Helga put up, sending off one more spurt as she did. 'How are you faring, Harry?' she asked the young wizard, who was also in phoenix form.
'As good as can be,' he replied grimly, 'My scar is prickling though; he's nearby, or feeling something strong.'
'I shall notify Salazar and ask him if he has sensed anything,' Rowena promised, and returned to roasting evil warlocks.
Minerva narrowly escape an Unforgivable as she transfigured a boulder to make it seemingly alive. She jumped behind her creation, and it shattered as the Killing Curse came in contact with it. That won't do, she thought, and quickly hit the offending Death Eater with a black-out curse. Instantly, the dark witch dropped to the ground, much like Minerva's shattered boulder.
Transfiguring another boulder and rolling it after a pair of trolls, who were too slow to avoid being crushed, Minerva wiped the beads of sweat off her brow; she hated getting old. Her joints protested against the agile movement she required at the moment, and that increased the risk of making a mistake. In a duel, speed was a crucial factor.
She blocked a pain curse, returning fire with an ice-storm hex. Spots of blood appeared on the mask-less Death Eater's face where the miniature icicles pierced their skin, and Minerva finished the wizard off with a bludgeoning jinx. She didn't normally approve of such violent measures, but the thought that they would not restrain themselves and that each Death Eater she brought down lessened the threat for Potter, balanced her distaste.
Sirius' Challenger tore at the super-dementor while he fended off another with his regular patronous. It still unnerved him to see such a devastated creature, but by focusing on the one made of light, his nerves were eased; well, as much as they could be when in the middle of a fight.
Adrenaline thrummed through his blood, adding to his power and agility. He fired off several stunners, adding some jinxes into the mix, catching the Death Eater on his left off guard. However, adrenaline alone was not all that gave Padfoot strength. It was the thought of his godson and Remus, of James and Lily that lent him the ferocity he needed. He wanted to be able to live freely, without war or the Ministry to distract him. He wanted to really be a full-time godfather to Harry, rather than the part-guardian, part-Order member on duty he was now.
The super-dementor screamed its horrible scream as it died, collapsing into a heap of tattered, black robes; Sirius' Challenger stalked off in search of more prey. Finishing off the third Death Eater, Sirius changed a look over his shoulder at Moony. The werewolf was fighting off a chimera, a super-dementor, and a Death Eater at the same time.
Sirius changed into Padfoot and bounded over, snapping his jaws closed over the Death Eater's wrist. He tasted blood as his canines pierced their skin, and he tore, causing them to scream in pain and drop their wand; just as he'd wanted.
He let go and snarled, biting and snapping at the Death Eater, who backed up, clutching their wrist. Sirius snapped the wand with his jaws, and pounced once more, this time going for the Death Eater's ankles. His jaws slammed shut around one of them, and the Death Eater yelled once again, trying to shake him loose. Padfoot only let go once the ankle tendon was torn, and the Death Eater collapsed onto the ground in pain.
Transforming back, Sirius wiped his mouth and spat out the remaining blood, then turned to face the next challenge.
"Black, look out!" The voice caused Sirius to turn just in time to see a killing curse headed straight for him. He fell to the ground, missing it by mere inches. He looked up and saw Snape dueling the Death Eater that had cast it, and Sirius charged over to help. He got the Death Eater in the back with a cutting hex, just as Snape got him with an internal-bleeding curse.
"Thanks," Sirius told him.
"Keep you attention on the fight," the former Death Eater replied with a smirk, "I can't save you all the time."
Sirius rolled his eyes but went to engage yet another Death Eater in battle. He scored a cut on his cheekbone, and another on his arm—this one favored knives rather than magic. Alright, Padfoot thought, and got out his own pair. He lashed back, slicing them on the chest. They kicked out, but Sirius nimbly dodged to the side, and struck them on the temple with the hilt of his dagger; they dropped like a stone and he grinned.
A sharp pain sliced into the left side of his back, and Sirius fell to his knees, gasping in pain as he wrenched the dagger out. It had missed any major organs, but it hurt like hell. Only when his vision began to blur did he realize that it had been poisoned with something.
"Padfoot!" he heard Remus cry, rushing over to him.
"Dagger," he croaked in response, falling onto his uninjured side.
Remus jumped up and left for a moment, returning with Snape beside him. "Where's the kinfe?" the potions master asked gruffly as Remus defended the two of them from dementors.
Sirius grimly offered it to the person he liked least. Snape looked at it for a moment, then pulled something from his belt. "Drink this," he ordered.
Sirius tried, but found he couldn't move. Snape seemed to realize this and sneered. "Honestly Black, must I do everything for you? Lazy mutt." Sirius growled at him and made an effort to move his hand; a sharp pain lanced through him, and the dizziness got worse.
Snape uncorked the vial and held it to Padfoot's mouth, who then drank it; fighting not to spit it out. "Are you trying to poison me again?" he snarled after finished.
Snape smirked, "It worked, didn't it?" Sirius growled deep in his throat; but Snape was right, it had worked. "You may thank me later," the head Slytherin told him with a smirk, and stood to re-enter the battle.
Greasy git, Padfoot thought, and stood, ready to fight once more.
Dom threw an explosion potion and ducked as it hit his target: a group of eight Death Eaters. Screams tore through the air as acid tore through flesh. He didn't regret it though, he'd seen what these scum had done in Britain, and if he let them live, they would only continue doing it.
After those particular screams ended, Dom came out and began to fire stunners and pain curses where ever he saw a Death Eater. He dragged the wounded body of Lenna back to the main camp, then took a dose of the transformation potion to take his friend's place. He yelled as his bones stretched painfully and new muscle formed. His skin stretched tight over his bones, and fur sprouted. The potion made it a tiny bit less painful than a normal transformation, but it was painful enough to stir the rage of the wolf within him.
Dom charged out back onto the field, slashing left and right at his enemies' ankles, chests, and wrists, causing plenty of them to fall to the ground. He remembered during the first war, when he'd been fighting side by side with Remus against a rather nasty group of trolls, and how they'd accidentally transformed early, thereby sprarking the idea of a potion that would do it on purpose.
His jaws snapped closed around the arm of a Death Eater as they prepared to cast, and he bit down hard. The bone snapped, leaving a bloody stump just a little below the man's elbow. The blood that filled Dom's mouth sent him into a frenzy, and he tackled his victim to the ground, slitting the wizard's throat. Not now! He chastised himself, fighting to regain control over his own instincts.
He jerked himself off the body, his muzzle stained with crimson blood that smelled so good to his werewolf nose. Ignoring it, Dom leaped for another Death Eater's throat, knocking them over to the ground. He killed four more before taking a quick rest. His ears picked up the sound of someone shouting the incantation for the Killing Curse and he scanned the blood-covered battle field until he found the source: a Death Eater facing off with the young Bulgarian wizard Krum.
Dom dashed over, his paws carrying him over the bodies that littered the ground and the decaying logs that spotted the area with amazing speed. He knocked Krum over just as the curse was fired, and he felt the green bolt sizzle just above his spine, singeing his fur. Dom rolled off of Krum and knocked the Death Eater over, slicing at their throat. His hit was fatal, but he didn't complete it before something sharp jabbed between his ribs. He howled in pain as the silver blade pierced is heart, which then ceased to beat.
Coming Up:
The Second Half of the Battle