Chapter 24: The Fall of Azkaban
Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, just before dinner was due to start, frowning in annoyance at the giggles that still came from other students at him and the others.
Two days, and they still hadn't been able to remove the charm that had changed their hair colour.
"It's just not fair," he said, as he looked at Ron. "It wasn't even that great a prank. Its too...simple!"
"Simple, but effective I guess," Ron said, shrugging. He had since given up worrying about it, and was simply content to wait until the charm wore off. "It worked, and I hear Fred and George are already making a sweet to mirror the effect."
"Oh joy," Harry said, distinctly lacking enthusiasm. "I am so glad our suffering is making them profit."
Ron shrugged, grinning slightly.
"Oh stop moaning so much Harry."
Harry turned, and smiled at Ginny as she sat down beside him.
"Besides," she continued. "I think you look good with blond hair."
"What?" Harry asked in shock.
Ginny shrugged. "Its true. It gives you a very...lordly look. Very noble looking."
"Great." Harry muttered.
A few minutes later, he looked up as Hermione hurried into the Hall, and quickly sat down, smirking.
"Well?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's done," Hermione said, somewhat out of breath, like she had just run all the way from the kitchens...which she had. "Dobby was more then willing to help in any way."
"Excellent," Harry said, grinning evilly as he looked up at the head table, where his parents, and Sirius were sitting with Remus. They were now 'Co-Teachers' of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The three Marauders were hunched over, whispering quietly to each other. Harry saw his mother look at him, and raise an eyebrow at the look on his face.
Shrugging lightly, Harry tried to look innocent, but could tell she didn't buy it. Lily smiled faintly, and made a point of turning to Professor McGonagall beside her, and starting a conversation with her.
"Just wait til desert," Hermione said, grinning wickedly, eyeing the head table in anticipation.
Dinner passed quickly, and soon deserts had appeared on the tables.
The original Marauders didn't suspect a thing, as they dug heartily into their deserts. Halfway through his slice of blueberry pie, Remus happened to glace over at the Gryffindor table, and paled rapidly as he saw the second generation of Marauders all watching him.
He swallowed nervously, and had he seen his own face, he would have realized that his pale skin was rapidly colouring.
Of course, it wasn't exactly a natural colour, as his skin rapidly turned a dark blue. Suddenly he felt himself stretching, lifting out of his chair as he ballooned outward. It seemed Harry was good at blowing people up...
"Moony?" Sirius said, looking over at his friend. He was about to reach over to help him, when both he and James suddenly disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
When the smoke faded, it revealed two short, ugly, bald men in overalls
Who promptly began singing.
"Oompa Loompa, doompa dee do..."
The great hall promptly dissolved into laughter, both by muggleborns, who knew what it was, and wizardborn students, who just thought it was funny.
Harry and his friends were laughing too, satisfied that they were avenged. They quickly fled the great hall, just in case any sort of retribution would be coming their way once the transformations wore off.
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"Did you see how pale Moony went?" Ron laughed, as they relaxed in the Lair half an hour later.
"And then how blue," Ginny giggled.
"I do hope Colin got some pictures," Hermione said pensively. "Could make for good blackmail material in the future."
Harry was about to reply, when suddenly his vision went to black.
He saw an auror, patrolling silently on a stone wall, suddenly be blasted into from the wall, to fall with a loud crunch to the solid ground below, and lay unmoving.
He saw a swarm of dark figures disembarking boats on a rocky beach, and rushing forward.
He saw a wooden gate explode inward, crushing the two aurors who stood behind it.
He saw dark figures high in the air, swooping down upon unsuspecting wizards below them.
Harry jerked back to himself, eyes wide.
"Azkaban" He swore, quickly rising from his seat.
"What?" Ginny asked, confused. "Harry, what's going on?"
"Voldemort's attacking Azkaban. Right now." Harry said, as he rushed out the door.
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"Everyone, prepare for battle, immediately. Azkaban is under attack." Harry mindcalled the other elves, as he ran to his room, quickly throwing on his leather armour, and beginning to gather his weapons.
"Apollo!" He called out, and the phoenix almost immediately appeared in the air before him. "Go alert the camp. Let them know to be prepared in case we need them"
"Aye Emrys." Apollo trilled, and flew out the window, winging swiftly towards the forest.
"Although Light help us," he whispered to himself, as he sheathed his swords on his back, and made for the door. "I hope they aren't."
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They arrived at the dock of the island upon which Azkaban stood, the sheer number of wards and protective barriers still erected around the prison keeping them from arriving closer.
Even from there, a hundred yards from the walls of the prison fortress, they could tell that they already too late.
The gate was gone, along with a large portion of the wall near it. Bodies, clad in now bloody Auror robes, littered the ground around the gate and the broken wall. Clusters of them, those who had lived long enough to rally, to try to fight back, lay in groups, surrounded by a pitifully small number of fallen enemies.
More of said enemies still stood within the courtyard, a mass of dark clad forms, waiting while a trio of trolls hammered on the inner gate to the interior of the prison. Above them hovered the wraith-like forms of the dementors, dozens of them, circling menacingly in the sky.
"Bows!" Harry commanded, and lifted his, and fifteen others were raised with his. "Target the trolls. Stop them from breaking down that door."
"Loose!"
Sixteen arrows flew into the air.
Sixteen arrows came down on the unprotected backs of the trolls, killing all three.
Harry swore as he saw only half of the massed enemies turned their attention away from the doors, and move to engage the elves. The other half began to work at the door with curses and spells. From the speed with which the ones moving to engage them were moving, it was clear they were all vampires.
"Here they come. May the Light be with you all," Harry said, as he watched the enemy force.
"Justice has come." Harry whispered, as he drew aim once more, this time on a snarling vampire in the front of the pack, and loosed his arrow.
Each elf got off two more shots before they collectively discarded their bows, drawing weapons, and preparing to meet the charge.
Harry drew the twin swords from his back, rolling under a lunging vampire, twisting as he did, and slashing with one sword at it, while stabbing outward at another.
These were not brutish, untrained vampires though. They wielded weapons of their own, and knew how to use them.
He spun quickly, and dodged a massive two handed sword that could have easily cleaved him in two. Harry soon found himself been pushed back by the sheer strength of the massive vampire wielding the huge sword as though it were weightless. Finally, he found an opening, and he blocked the massive sword with his left blade, deflecting it upward, as he spun in, and stabbed the vampire through the chest with the other.
As he stepped back, pulling the sword from the vampires chest, he was suddenly slammed forward by a weight landing on his back, throwing him to the ground. The sudden impact caught him by surprise, and he was pinned under the weight of the vampire that had tackled him.
He heard cold laughter behind him, and heard the soft rush of air that signalled a weapon rapidly descending towards him...
And suddenly the weight on his back was gone, as suddenly as it had appeared.
Quickly rolling over, Harry saw the familiar face of Evan, one of his training partners, and the first elf he had befriended in Falandais, standing over him, his personal weapon, a deadly one handed mace that he swung with vicious force, in his hand, still dripping with vampire blood from the beast he had literally just batted from Harry's back.
"Be more careful Emrys, I won't always be there to save you!" Evan said, grinning slightly, before spinning quickly, raising his mace to strike a charging vampire in the head, crushing its skull with one blow.
"Haha," Harry said, as he leapt to his feet.
Looking around quickly, he took stoke of the situation. The elves were holding their own, even against the numerically superior vampires. Nearby, he could see Allia moving with such grace it seemed she was dancing, as she swung her sword keeping a trio of vampires at bay.
Sudden movement caught his eye, and he looked up, spotting the swooping forms of the dementors as they descended from the sky.
"DEMENTORS!" He yelled, dropping one of his swords and focusing his magic, as a golden light burst from his hand, forming into the familiar shape of Prongs. His golden patroni burst into the air, charging at nearby Dementors.
Suddenly as series of pops echoed through the air, louder even then the sounds of clashing weapons. A short moment later, a swarm of silver patroni burst into the night air, as the Order of the Phoenix arrived, casting their patroni into the sky.
He was quickly separated from Evan, as he was found himself pressed from all sides. He only had one of his twin swords left, and was too heavily pressed to have time to sheath it and draw his katana.
For what seemed like an hour, but was most likely only 5 minutes, he fought furiously. He heard the sounds of spells being shouted, and quickly surmised that the Order of the Phoenix, not wanting to risk hitting an elf with their spells in the chaos of the melee, had gone around, and were engaging the Death Eaters at the gate.
The fighting continued, but it soon became obvious to Harry that they were overmatched. There were just too many of the enemy, and too few of them. The fight had carried them closer to the wall, so he could clearly see the Order of the Phoenix also slowly being driven back.
Cursing to himself, he knew they had lost. And he didn't want to have to call in the War Party for reinforcements. The Dark Lord hadn't shown himself, and Harry did not want to waste the element of surprise now.
"Fall back!" He called out. As much as he hated to admit it, they could not win. "Fall back to the dock."
The elves immediately began to fall back, fighting their way clear of the vampires, and slowly advancing backwards. Dumbledore quickly echoed the order, and the Order of the Phoenix also began to fall back.
And it seemed, for unknown reasons, the vampires were content to let them. As soon as the elves broke off the offensive, and began to fall back, most of the vampires broke off, falling back to the wall, and waiting.
Harry continued to engage the over-eager vampires who kept up the attack, slowly falling backwards. Most of the elves had made it back to the dock, and were holding there, engaging any vampire foolish enough to get too close. The elves all sported various minor injuries, but nothing serious, thankfully.
A sudden cry of pain echoed to Harry's right, causing cold fear to run through him instantly, as he turned in alarm, to see Evan, 30 feet away, fall to his knees, blood running like a river down his leg.
Harry tried to run to aid him, but suddenly, almost out of nowhere, 4 vampires appeared in his way, blocking his path.
"Evan!" He yelled, as a shadow swept over him, and he watched a Dementor fly down, to hover above Evan.
Evan's mace swung up, batting the Dementor away, but the movement strained his leg even more, and he cried out again in pain.
Swinging his sword viciously, Harry cut the head from one of the vampires in his way, but three more still stood, preventing him from getting near his friend.
Again, the shadow swept downward, but this time Evan was too weak, from blood loss and pain, to keep it away.
"Evvvvann," Harry screamed, as he lashed out again, taking down another vampire, but still unable to get close to his friend.
Harry could only watch in horror and anguish as the Dementor hovered over Evan, who's mouth opened in a silent scream as a white glowing light slowly emerged from his eyes.
The glow slowly left Evan, shimmering brightly in the air above him. It slowly moved towards the Dementor, and as it did, it seemed to darken, as though tainted by the evil of the creature it was approaching. By the time it was sucked into the Dementor's foul mouth, the once bright, shining white light had turned to deep, endless black.
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Little is known of Dementors. It is said they were created in a time long forgotten, for a task none now know of. Creatures of the darkest kind, they devour the souls of their victims, gaining power with each soul they claim.
But they were limited, thankfully. None remaining knew how to create more. The dementors that existed were the same ones that had existed since they were first created. But they were not sentient, little more then trained animals, taught a few tricks, and told what to do. None remembered how they had been found, but they had been quickly captured, and forced to serve in the foulest of prisons. To be slaves to any who controlled them, to any who would offer them souls to eat.
But that was not their original purpose. They had been created for a far darker purpose, by a far darker being than any that remained on this earth.
They had existed for so long, that they had slowly weakened. Their powers reduced. When they had first come into existence, they had been powerful, loyal and strong servants of their masters. But ages of poor sustenance and imprisonment had taken its toll.
And so, when the Dementor devoured the soul of the Elf, it for the first time in so long, felt the feeling of true power provided by real food.
It reveled in it, as its mind awakened, and it felt dark power inside it again. It remembered the past, everything that had happened. And it remembered its task, the most important mission of all.
Seething with internal powers, it took stock of its situation. A bunch of weaklings surrounded it. Slaves. And there...the Enemy. A pack of them. It sniffed the air, and hissed in laughter.
"Weaklingssss..." It hissed, speaking for the first time in countless ages.
It turned again, and froze.
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Harry watched in horror as the Dementor seemed to glow in dark energy. Suddenly, all his horror, grief, and anguish burned away, fire erupting within him, as anger and righteous rage consumed him. He practically ripped his Katana from its sheath, the fires of his rage burning within him. The two vampires before him didn't even have a chance to react, as the blade, burning red hot, Harry's magic reacting to his anger, and giving power to his blade, cut through them both, consuming them both in bright flames.
He felt magic flowing around him, felt it blowing through his hair, as he stalked towards the Dementor.
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It was shocked. It could not be! It was not possible! Sudden fear swept through it, and it lost all former feelings of power. It seemed to quake, terrified.
"No," the Dementor hissed quietly, in disbelief. "It'sss not possible. You cannot still live!"
It knew it was impossible. That it was mere coincidence. But the fear still held it.
Harry was close now, and he lifted his sword, his anger so great that his sword burst into flame, burning brightly as it swung downward.
The Dementor watched the sword break into flames, and knew its short period of power and strength was over.
As the burning sword cleaved through its head, burning away its life, there was only one thing going through its evil mind.
'It's not possible...'
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Harry dropped to the ground beside the unmoving form of Evan. Ignoring everything else, he looked at the pale face of his friend.
He was gone...he had failed his friend.
Tears stung Harry's eyes, as he gently picked up Evan's lifeless body. He looked briefly over at the other elves and the members of the Order of the Phoenix, then vanished without a sound, taking the body of his fallen friend with him.
