Disclaimer: Check first chapter for full disclaimer and other warnings.

Chapter 22 – Conflicts

The teenagers rose from their crouched position. The dust had just settled, and there were some surprised shouts in the main road. The young wizards blinked for a few moments, trying to remove the dark spots in their vision. As soon as they recovered their senses, the four of them launched themselves forwards, to the prone form of a red lioness they knew to be Ginny. There was only one animal there, the golden griffin had disappeared.

Fred and George, being the only ones with a wand, tried to wake her with the usual spells, but failed. Hermione suggested one or two spells they could use too, but to no avail. Finally, they decided to get help from a full-grown wizard, who could at least Apparate there and help them. As Ron, who seemed to have known the golden griffin, was now as mute as before, they also wanted to find its identity.

"We could ask dad..." started Fred.

"...he'll sure come with a full squad."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you really think that he wouldn't overreact upon seeing his daughter in that state? Besides, he's rather occupied nowadays, now is he not?" She turned back to the prone lioness, stroking her head. "I propose we ask professor Snape."

They could only gape at her, stunned, before recovering after a few seconds. After all, their capacity of recovering from any surprise was legendary. Their stunned look, however, was replaced by disappointment at seeing their less-than-preferred teacher, as well as fright at what he might do. They didn't know about the research headed by Hermione and him, and almost nobody knew. Ron, though, looking at her in his usual dreamy expression, tried to calm them.

"He's trustworthy." he said.

Fred snorted. "How do you know, Ron? Unless you changed your mind..."

"...you do remember how he treated you, don't you?" finished George.

Hermione interrupted them. "He has changed his mind, you prats! Now, do we want external help or not?"

"I don't know..."

"...we could ask Dumbledore?"

She looked at them pointedly. "I happen to know that he's visiting his brother during the holidays."

"McGonagall?"

"Spends some holidays in Scottish highlands."

"Okay, then..."

"...You win."

"Lend me your wand, then," she asked, "I didn't take mine."

She took a notepad from her pocket, ignoring the now amused smiles of the twins. The small notepad was already covered in numerous notes and diagrams, proof of her constantly ongoing research. After looking around, she wrote a few words on a blank page and ripped it off. Taking Fred's proffered wand, she put it to her head then moved it in a round way around the page, while muttering chosen words. The page shimmered briefly, before disappearing. Giving the wand back to the gawking again twins, she kneeled next to Ginny, trying to guess her health. The animal was breathing, slowly and regularly, although it wasn't reacting to the usual awakening spells.

A minute afterwards, a certain Potion Master could be seen apparating straight under the nearest porch, the coordinates of which he had just received from Hermione in a secure way. He looked around quickly, trying to assess the situation. His first reaction, on seeing the three Weasley, was one of annoyance, but his eyes opened wide on discovering Hermione next to the sleeping feline.

His reaction was to run there to remove Hermione from the dangerous beast, but Ron spoke first "It's Ginny."

Glancing at him, and blinking for a second, he looked then at the prone animal and understood. After all, if what he knew was accurate, that colour of fur wasn't really common for such beasts. Still, seeing that Ginny Weasley, of the infamous Weasley family, had pulled the feat of becoming an animagus while being a student...

His eyes rested on the twins who, their backs to him, were chatting to themselves, stealing awed glances toward their sister. Awed, and also curious, calculating, and mischievous. It filled the Potion Master with an uneasy feeling, making him remember his time as a student. Shaking himself, he nodded to Ron, and, ignoring Fred and George, approached Hermione. "Why did you need me? You know I can trust you for the situation to actually be urgent when you write it is."

"We can't wake her up, and she needs to either change back, or be transported elsewhere. Muggles can come anytime."

"True. Muggle means?"

"Check."

"Usual spells?"

"Check."

The twins were flabbergasted at the efficiency of the exchange. It was as if the two kneeling persons already worked together on a daily basis. Unbeknownst to them, it was actually the case. Wanting to help, as it was their sister on the ground, they approached Hermione and Snape.

"Can we do something?"

The Potion Master sneered, and started "Are you actually able to..."

But Hermione smoothly interrupted him, addressing the twins. "Go in the alley entrance and prevent muggles from entering. Clean some of this mess, too."

Once they left, to cast a few notice-me-not spells in the alley entrance to fend off the now approaching Muggles, Hermione added, for Snape. "I don't want to start an argument here. But it's true they are better off our feet."

He nodded. "What happened?"

When she gave him a short version of it, he could only look at the prone animal in wonder.

"If I didn't have the proof here that Miss Weasley is an animagus, I'd say it's unbelievable... Still, I remember an episode where such a lion saved a group of people in the Forbidden Forest, and Albus seemed to know something. As for the golden griffin... If it was anyone else than you telling the event, I might have accused them of lying. Such beast was belonging to the myths."

"There is something else."

"What?"

"Ron kept saying it was 'him' but he didn't explain who he was talking about. I have my idea about it, though. Do you know a spell to inspect ownership of magical residues?" Encompassing the damaged area with her arm, she elaborated. "There has been quite a happenstance here."

Nodding, he complied, and started to chant the appropriate incantation, while moving his wand in wider and wider circles, like a radar beam. When he stopped moving, three luminescent forms were floating a few feet from the ground. As he was proficient with the spell, Snape recognized that two of them had the characteristic shape of animagus transformations. These two had a humanoid shape, with distinct limbs and head, but they couldn't give their owner away. On top of that, they were also of exactly the same colour, as if it had been the same wizard or witch doing the transformation twice.

The third shape, though, was relative to item activation, but the creator of it could be identified if the caster knew of that person's aura. Snape looked at the swirling colours closely, before recoiling in shock.

"No! It's not possible! He's dead!"

Hermione had understood that it was the magical residues she had asked about, but couldn't make heads or tails from them. She went to ask her mentor about it, when he turned towards her, his eyes wide.

"I know this signature, because I... I met it often in the past. It's James Potter's."

When a shaken Severus Snape arrived in his office, he went directly to the liquor cabinet and served himself a good dose of Beefeater, which he downed in one go, before sitting down. He then threw a pinch of Floo powder in the chimney, and asked for Albus Dumbledore. When the usually cheerful face of his oldest colleague appeared, it immediately turned into a concerned frown.

"What happened, Severus? You seem to have seen a ghost."

Snape snorted at the old man's attempt at humour, before sighing. "Actually, I just missed one."

The elder looked at him thoughtfully, before speaking again. "Care to elaborate?"

"I got called to solve a problem regarding four students in London. Five, in fact." He looked at the old man in the eye. "But the fifth was in a lion form."

"Ah."

"Ah? That's all?"

"No, Severus. I'm sorry, but I'll have to intrude in your quarters. My feeling is that the connection is not secure, and I don't want to speak about it in that way. Let me say my farewells and I'll be right there."

A few minutes, and another downed gin, later, the flames flared again, this time to let the old wizard through. Snape wasn't in a state where he would have exaggerated his greetings.

"Albus, you could have told us about her!"

The old man sniffed the air suspiciously, but kept quiet his discovery of the white bottle on the table nearby. "Would it have changed anything, Severus? Wouldn't it make you remember your old days? Wouldn't you have tried to prevent me to do so, even if it was already in her?"

"Already? What do you mean?"

"She came to me, once, with deformed limbs. I had no choice but speed her learning so that she could revert quickly. Besides, it seems that it had been helpful for several students as well."

"It wasn't planned! And, if you recall correctly, I went strongly against the outing all the same."

"I remember, I remember. But surely, young Miss Weasley's new shape is not what motivated this call, is it?"

Snape shuddered. "You're right, it's not." He sighed, and looking up his old mentor with suddenly lost eyes, he spoke again.

"Today, I encountered a magical signature I didn't think I would see again. Not soon, and not ever."

"May I ask whose?"

"Potter's." After a stretching silence, he added "James."

Dumbledore was looking at him, his eyes still twinkling despite the seriousness of his expression. Slowly at first, then with a more fluent speech, Snape began to tell him about his family, his schooling, his lack of true friends, and his nemesis. Dumbledore knew about all this, of course, but it was cathartic for the Potion Master to open up like this, even if it had been helped by strange circumstances and several shots of alcohol. He even laid out the reasons for his visceral hate of Harry, reasons which had been shot down in the previous summer when he had learnt that the young boy hadn't been pampered at all, and everything that resembled his father in him was his looks. And his capacity to attract trouble, too, to be fair.

After this, he recounted his trip in muggle London where he had found an unconscious lioness and an unbelievable story where a winged lion had been witnessed. Dumbledore believed his Potion Master, in general. He also believed Hermione Granger. But he knew for a fact that human senses could be tricked and that it certainly wasn't a winged lion in front of the stunned teenagers. The unconscious lion was posing a problem, of course, and he promised to take care of it.

After he had put his old friend to sleep, Albus Dumbledore went to his quarters, thinking along the way while humming an old tune. Once in his office, he gathered a few vials of potions and Apparated just outside of the Burrow. He thought it was bad form to enter in peoples' house unannounced.

It wasn't quite the good idea, though, as it was raining, and several moments passed before Hermione answered the door. To her remark about the possible use of a weather charm, he shrugged, answering that he thought he was going to enter quickly. A wet Albus Dumbledore entered the pristine living room, but nobody paid attention to it, as everybody was yelling around a sleeping lioness. The yelling explained the lack of response from the door, but he also understood that it wasn't helping in the least. He drew his wand.

"Silencio."

In the calmness that ensued, the lion stirred in contentment and rolled over, knocking a low table and a brother on the way. While George was finding his footing again, cursing silently against the laying feline, Dumbledore cast a spell on Ginny to evaluate her state. To his relief, she was okay, only asleep, although so deeply that usual waking spells weren't working. He knew that it wasn't a good idea to wake someone so deep in sleep like that, but he could still do something to help the distraught Weasleys. Remembering an obscure spell, obscure because of its rarity of use due to the rarity of animagi in the world, he trained his wand on Ginny again, and cast it.

"Reverto Animagi."

To everyone's awed gaze, the girl slowly turned from a large lion into her usual frame. Dumbledore then levitated her into the couch, and dropped a blanket on her. He then pointed to the kitchen's door, and they all piled there. After removing the silence charm, he raised his hand and spoke first.

"I'm sorry, Molly, because of not warning you about her being an animagus. She has been real quick in mastering the transformation, and we didn't have the time to speak about it." He turned towards the teens. "Severus told me about your encounter with another lion?"

On cue, the twins launched in a wild description of the opposing beast. In their eyes, it now had four wings and it was towering ten feet over them, with impossibly green eyes casting lightning bolts all over the place. Rolling her eyes, Hermione corrected them, but the damage had been done, as Dumbledore seemed to believe that they had been tricked in seeing something more than a winged lion. She couldn't logically refute the point, so, after looking toward an oblivious Ron for help, she sighed and let it drop.

Molly Weasley looked tired. Very tired. More than if she just witnessed her daughter coming back in a leonine form. Thinking about it, Albus Dumbledore wondered if there was anything else.

"Molly?"

"Yes Albus?" she sniffed.

"Is there anything else?"

She went silent for a while, looking at her children reluctantly. Taking her mood in, Hermione left the room, tugging Fred and George behind her with some questions about their new pranks. Smiling at the twins' antics, the two adults turned toward Ron, but he was already going for the door. On the threshold, though, he turned toward Dumbledore, and looked him in the eye.

"I know you don't believe us. I don't blame you. You'll see reason soon."

Before the startled pair could react, he had passed the door and closed it gently. Returning to the woman, he was startled to find her openly crying in her handkerchief. He took her against him and she sobbed on his shoulder while he conjured a strong tea with the accompanying lemon drops. She saw that, and chuckled in her tears.

Finally, recovering herself, she took an envelope from her dress and gave it to him with trembling hands. She then took the proffered cup, and sipped on it while looking at the gloomy weather outside. Understanding what he had to do, Dumbledore opened the letter and read it. The old man was gasping when he reached the end.

Gringotts Egypt Branch, Cairo

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,

On December 15th we asked your son William Weasley to participate in a research team in the depth of the Great Desert. He went with a group of wizards and witches, each specialized in his or her own field. Needless to say, William's talent in breaking curses put him in the first place for this important mission. The group had to travel secretly to the starting point and undertake the mission in the same state. That's why he couldn't come back for Christmas.

They weren't going to be able to owl anyone, being underground, and unfortunately, that's also why we didn't send a rescue mission until one months ago. All these people were very proficient specialists, and very able to survive in the harshest conditions.

We found the main corridor of the site collapsed. Now again, even this could have been managed by the team. We had to excavate slowly and carefully because of the nature of the ground, though, and we have only recently arrived, in the first chamber of the site.

Your son wasn't there. But every other member of the team was there, dead. I can't write in which state they were found in, and I want to forget I ever witnessed it. However, after sending them to their last homes, we conducted an intensive search of the premises. We didn't find William at all.

Mr. and Mrs Weasley, I'm sorry to write this rather than say it to you personally. Your son has been declared missing, from the date of the start of this mission onward. We couldn't prevent the local authorities to also launch an international search warrant for him, too. I hope that this message will find you before the press gets wind of this. Of course, you understand the uncomfortable situation we all are in, and if William would show up, I'm sure we will keep each other informed.

With all my sympathy,

Gonnrack, manager

In a remote bedroom...

He turned around in his bed, stirring before awakening from his numerous pleasant dreams. He couldn't remember them, though, and experienced a feeling of loss about that. He could also feel some blood on his lips, and that raised some uncomfortable questions. His bed, though, wasn't used to his bulk moving in it, and protested with all its furniture voice. He raised his arms and yawned widely, before bending to lick an itch in his hind paw.

What?

The result of suddenly becoming aware of his animal form made him jump. However, as he was curled on himself, the jump became a scramble as he fell off the bed.

While trying to recover his footing, he shook himself, and felt whole, with his added appendages. Perplexed, he turned his head and noticed the large feathery wings attached on his back. He moved them a little, and noticed their weightlessness. One of these days, he thought, he'll have to try them. Concentrating on his real form, he quickly recovered it. Two legs, two arms, no wings anymore, and one eye only.

He tried to remember what had caused his transformation and his presence in his rooms, and staggered. He had found her! He had found her and something had happened! But he had fallen unconscious, and his ring had obediently brought him back to his hideaway. Glancing at his watch, he was surprised and a little disturbed that a whole day had passed. Joan and Michael would be upset, even if in the real world, only eight hours would have passed.

Trying to remember his dreams through his meditation exercises, he discovered that they were stored in the hidden part of his memory, as everything that was related to his past. He also found out something else: instead of the usual three dark shapes blocking his memories, there were only two now. He didn't understand the meaning of it, though, and decided to come back. Standing up, he braced himself and used the ring to come back to the last place he was.

The alley was empty.

And seemed as if it had been cleaned, as even the trashcans weren't there anymore.

He suddenly thought that, if he had mastered a dog-like form, he could have followed their scent. He tried to concentrate to that effect, but, due to his distress, his lack of knowledge about dogs, and the urgency of the situation, he failed completely.

Crying at the lost opportunity, he sat there for a while. It wasn't until dusk had settled that he left the place, heading back to the Freyrs' trailer.

Hogwarts, a week after spring break...

The start of the last school term was subdued. The weather wasn't friendly, as downpours plagued the countryside, and people mostly stayed inside. The last Ingredient Gathering of the year was reported sine die, and even Quidditch activity was almost null.

In Gryffindor common room, Ginny Weasley was in front of her homework without registering it. She was reflecting about the main event which had occurred during the holidays. It had taken her a whole day to wake from her slumber afterwards, and, once awake, she had changed back to her human form. After that, she had had to explain what had happened to her family, despite having only fuzzy memories of the whole event. She could only remember that someone was there, someone that she longed after, without registering his identity. She had been equally surprised to hear the twins' recollection of the winged lion. And now, in the red and golden common room surrounded by pictures of Gryffindor's crest, her heart was bleeding again upon his disappearance.

More privately, her twin menace of older brothers had wanted to know how and when she had become an animagus, something she couldn't help them with, to their utter disappointment. She had only promised to ask the person who had helped her to contact them if he agreed to help them too.

In the quiet atmosphere of the school, only one group of students were somewhat happy, as they weren't forced to go outside and had free periods, initially reserved to more outgoing activity, to practise their preferred activity: study. The students of Ravenclaw, as well as some bookworms from other Houses, were scattered everywhere in the Library, to the point of not having a table available most of the day. In the studious hive, one person was missing. They had all thought, before dismissing the idea because of their studying, that Hermione Granger would be there as well.

But she wasn't in the Library. She wasn't even in the castle. She was with Severus Snape, in his home. And they were happy. To some extent.

They had found a way to communicate with the damned creatures!

At first, they had modified the potion which would slow the drinker's perception, and had used muggle devices which were able to lower the frequency of given sounds. None of them were really knowledgeable in that particular Muggle field, but, using a small bit of magic and a great deal of gold, they got someone to install a device working the way they wanted it. Snape had Obliviated the muggle afterwards, though not without giving him a hefty sum.

The experimentation took a whole week, during which the second Dementor was studied at Hogwarts in the practical Defence course. The goal was to train the students of every year on bringing in a corporeal Patronus, even if most of the successful students came from the upper years. Nevertheless, the training worked. After all, if what they imagined was true, Voldemort would be soon ready to launch Dementors on the world, and they better be prepared.

Hermione and Snape succeeded in exchanging a few words with the remaining soul-sucker, and the results had been most strange.

"Uuuuuneeeaaase..."

"Why?"

"No one... talking to... Cohort... anymore."

"Who is Cohort?"

"We... are."

"Is Cohort your name?"

"Cohort... name of... Cohort."

The short exchange had needed a full day under the potion, and Severus, who was still refusing that Hermione drink it because of the strain, was exhausted. From the few words that he reported before falling asleep, they got the impression of speaking to a group of several persons, rather than an entity. The feeling was strange, and they would need more sessions to go further. The following day, though, was as cryptic as the first.

"What do you like?"

"Cohort... liking... orders."

"How to give orders to Cohort?"

"Speaking... them."

"Any other mean?"

"Cohort... obey."

It seemed that the creature was obeying anyone able to speak to it. It seemed bizarre that no verification was necessary, but, reflecting on this, they remarked that people confronted to the damned creatures preferred to flee them rather than speaking with them. Hermione and Snape were a little afraid, though, that Voldemort could uncover that information. The third day, they tried another line of thoughts and inquired about the creatures' social behaviour.

"Do you have a hierarchy? A commander?"

"We... are... one. Commander... missing."

"Who is your commander?"

"Whoever... takes... commanding... helm."

"Where is the commanding helm?"

"Our... home... deep... down."

When Snape woke up from his frozen state after the short exchange, he was too excited to go to sleep right away, and he asked Hermione to summon Dumbledore while he took a peppering potion. The old man had already been informed about the house location, and he arrived promptly. Snape then proceeded to relate his few conversations with the Dementor, during which Hermione was thoughtful. They then shared their ideas with Dumbledore.

The first was that, because of the peculiar wording of the creature's sentences, it could be possible that every living Dementor was mentally linked to the others. It opened several avenues of thoughts, like allowing them to order the whole bunch of them with only one present. As anyone can guess, as much as it was interesting, it was a distressing idea when you thought that Voldemort was conducting the same research.

The second idea was about the aforementioned commanding helm. They didn't know what it was, but suspected that it could enable faster discussion and orders to the Dementor pack. Chatting with them and giving them orders by merely talking with them was fine, but it would take a whole day to express a mere attacking order. The helm would certainly make battle reactions faster and more accurate. The location of the helm itself was unknown, but the three of them suspected it to be in the deeper dungeons of Azkaban, as no other building could be called 'home' by Dementors.

Dumbledore agreed to the idea of mounting an expedition there to try to uncover it, while rejecting Hermione's participation to it. Experimenting with the Dementor had already taken its toll on the girl, and he didn't want to put her in the duress of such a trip. They also discussed about the orders that they could give to the Dementors through the one present, and agreed to protect Hogwarts first.

Despite having drunk a whole vial of peppering up potion, Snape had had energy only for the discussion, and needed his sleep. Therefore, after being explained the working of the devices by Hermione, Dumbledore took the interrogation over. His interrogation style was different than Snape's, as he was mainly searching confirmation of their theories.

"Is your 'home' called Azkaban by us Wizards?"

"Yes."

"What are the protections around the commanding helm?"

"Illusions."

"Will all Dementor obey if I give you an order?"

"Yes."

"I order you not to attack Hogwarts, ever."

"Cohort... can't... obey... this."

"Why?"

"Already... ordered... to attack... and disregard... all orders... to prevent... that."

Azkaban...

In the wizarding prison, there had been chaos before. Most often than not, it was because of a new batch of troublesome prisoners. The rest of the time, it was a ruckus caused by some guardian tired of nearing the Dementors constantly. These problems had always been solved swiftly, as the prisoners quickly fell under the Dementors' effect, and the tired guardian was removed. There were almost no human guardians nowadays, as Fudge had preferred to keep the necessary money for other activities, more oriented towards his own person.

Since he had taken the Minister position, Arthur Weasley had been drowned under the laws he had to repel, and hadn't stumbled upon the prison's case yet. Therefore, it was only with a token resistance that the dozen guards tried to prevent the Dementors to escape en masse, that night. All but a few of them were Kissed, and the few survivors got cursed by the Death Eaters who had approached the island on a dozen skiffs. The damned creatures mounted the frail boats and left the island, while some Death Eaters entered the prison and freed those who were sane enough to come back to their master quickly and efficiently. They had thought of keeping one skiff to head back, but in front of the sheer number of Dementors, they had to bring back the whole 'fleet' to bring all of them on the shore. Once all dark creatures had regrouped there, they left towards their target, and the Death Eaters left for their master's house.

Voldemort's remote cottage...

Next to the potion laboratory that had been installed to satisfy Anekka Krengstarck, a room split by bars contained a Dementor on one side, a table and two chairs on the other. On the chairs nearest to the soul-sucking creature, the Potion Mistress was sitting. She had had her wand trained on the Dementor and lowered it, shaking. She took a potion from the table and drank it to the last drop. Once done, she managed a little smile on her ashen features, and talked.

"T'is done, my Lord."

On the other chair, Lord Voldemort was so happy that he could cast a wandless Patronus right now, if he had thought about it. They had discovered the community of mind of the Dementors, and he had set his female associate on the task of ordering them to attack Hogwarts. She had visibly been through hell to accomplish that, going into the creature's mind and encountering countless horrors there. Nevertheless, she had also been clever enough to lock the attack order against any counter order.

Because of their nature, the creatures couldn't Apparate or use a portkey, so they were walking towards the target. His favourite curse breaker, though, unhindered by this lack of mobility, was already on the site, hidden in the forest with two guards. In a few days, Hogwarts would fall, and the world will be at his feet.

With a smile on Crouch's possessed face, Voldemort rose from his seat and nodded to the exhausted Potion Mistress, before leaving. He had still much to do. He went directly to his personal library, containing several important tomes, some of which he acquired through not-so-legal means. At the table, surrounded by books, were seated some Death Eaters. One of them, appearing tired, was always going from one to another, taking notes. Upon hearing his name, though, he stopped and went to his master.

"Any news, Jugson?"

"My Lord, we are browsing the books, and we'll find shortly."

"It is too bad that you haven't found it yet, Jugson. You'll continue to research into this, and you'll eat your meals here. In the meantime, we will take Hogwarts. Once this is done, and when I'll be freed of this mortal shell, my true reign will begin."

Voldemort shrilled his usual laugh, and left the study room. It wasn't until a long time had passed that the people there got they nerves back enough to work.

Northern London...

For the last months of school, Gabriel had decided to settle on a weekly routine. His first change from the previous term had been to take the fencing class after the riding one, after making sure that Joan was with Tamara in the relaxation class. The fencing class left him with bruises each time, but he had felt that he could use a sport more exhausting physically than horse riding, and that one had had places available. Even though he was tired to the point of sleeping after each session, he enjoyed them very much.

He had also documented himself on several creatures, borrowing several books from the school library about animals in general. And every free time that he had in school without his group of friends was spent in his hideaway, which he often accessed from the always-deserted school roof. Once in the isolated rooms, he tried to transform into these creatures, one after the other. After all, now that he knew how to transform, everything went smoother. His other task was learning how to fly with the wings he had discovered during the vacation, but, being stranded to a small room, that was awkward at best.

The first animal he transformed successfully into was a dog, and then he immediately went to the alleyway where he had found the lioness to try to pick a trail. This was to no avail, though, as the scent had been erased by the multiple rains that had occurred in the meantime.

Sad, but continuing his personal work, he tried to transform into something smaller and that could conceal itself easily. At first, he imagined a snake, and it was on his mind for a good time afterwards. However, he also wanted to learn to fly, and a small bird, or an insect, would be preferable in that regard. A few days of trying later, he succeeded in transforming into a sparrow, either from his human form and back, or from his winged lion form and back. On the last minutes of his spare time that day, and tried to fly a little, but found it really difficult as he had to constantly move muscles that he hadn't been aware of until now.

Nevertheless, he was quite happy about his recent successes, and thus didn't take his usual precautions when coming back from his hideaway that last time. Whistling, he turned around the school heating exhaust behind which he had disappeared, before stopping in shock, his jaw hanging.

There, in front of him, and looking straight at him, were his usual enemies in the school. Until now, nothing untoward had been done directly against him or his friends, but bad jokes and item disappearance had occurred fairly often. Now, however, the jocks looked enraged, appeared quite stoned, and, listening to their ranting, he quickly discovered why.

Apparently, they had all failed one exam or another. To him, it didn't matter that they had wanted to become college athletes, so he tuned that part out. After that failure, they had gone on the roof thinking that they'd be alone to smoke god-knows-what, and he had irrupted through the stairway. Thinking that he was there to mock them, they had discreetly followed him until he went behind the exhaust, and disappeared. They hadn't known what had happened, and had fetched the nearest 'freak' friend of his to ask for explanations.

Until that point in their halting explanation, he had noticed that they were grouped menacingly between him and the only exit through the stairs, and that they were hiding something. When they told him about fetching a friend, he had thought that they were still searching, but when they spread around the immobile black form on the concrete roof, his breath caught in his throat.

Even if Tamara was strong and liked sports, her age couldn't allow her to defend herself properly when roughly manhandled by a group of young adults. She was lying on the roof, one of her eyes swollen and her lip split. Her clothes were in disarray, showing body parts that usually went hidden, and Gabriel got the feeling that, hadn't he appeared right now, she would have passed an ugly moment. He didn't feel like a saviour, though. She was there because of him, of his recklessness. Had he looked around when he had entered the roof, she wouldn't be there.

Angry against himself, and against the jocks for treating her like that, he advanced towards her, intent on actually rescuing her. His path was suddenly blocked by one of the older teens, one chubby dark-haired young man, but he simply shoved him aside. The action wasn't missed by the wide-eyed others, though, as one would have to use a great deal of strength to push their overweight friend like this.

While Gabriel kneeled near Tamara, shaking her gently, the jocks discussed between themselves quickly, animatedly, although quietly.

When Gabriel took Tamara's hand in his to prop her against the railing, they had come to a conclusion.

When Gabriel, taking note of Tamara waking up, raised her so that she leaned on him, their hands still entwined, the jocks acted on their conclusion. They ran to the duo, grabbed them, and, not waiting for a reaction, flung them over the railing. Their intent was to simulate a double suicide, so they quickly scribbled a note and left the roof running, without even looking at the tossed pair.

Falling, Gabriel's first thought was to transport to his hideaway. However, he rarely did that with onlookers around, so he lost precious milliseconds not knowing what to do. His unconscious mind, though, reacted quickly to the threat of falling, and he felt a tingle in his whole body, especially in his back. At the last possible moment, he took into account Tamara and their joined hands, making her touch the ring. Not registering the possible witnesses, he uttered the saving word.

"Safehaven."

Hogwarts...

The man was sweating. The news from his master had unnerved his guards, and they had prodded him to work faster, providing energizing potions when needed. The two Death Eaters also had work to do, as it was essential that they weren't discovered. So far, they had successfully disguised their magical signature as if they were Centaurs. By using a few potions, they had been living in the forest without hindrance.

The Dementors weren't ones to need rest, though, and they had been moving as fast as wild horses through the countryside, ignoring otherwise tantalizing wizarding or muggle settlements. The attack was going to take place much sooner that predicted, and Bill had to work fast. He worked overnight, and was still at it on the morning.

For the umpteenth time of the hour, he tried to think about how to protect the school, before holding his head in pain again. Any thought that wasn't relative to his imposed work was painful, and the pain was always increasing. Despite this, he briefly cursed his new master and the Potion Mistress who had devised such a mean to ensure obedience without even using the Imperius curse. In its wicked way, the potion was a mix between the two non-lethal Unforgivables.

He groaned imperceptibly, before going back to his work on the shield. The magical construct was old, and had been patched multiple times. He had been even able to notice some areas where it wasn't effective at all, even if these areas were located in the air. They had also been too small to allow anything larger than a bird to pass through. However, starting on these, he had started to expand the holes towards the ground steadily. If everything went according to the schedule, there would be a ground-level breach on the ward when his master's new pawns would arrive. The first breach he had been assigned to open was behind the castle, on its north side, where nobody ever went and classes weren't held, so he was in little risk of discovery by its inhabitants. Even if he had been in plain sight, though, the invisibility dome created by one of his guards was enough for them not to be noticed.

While he reluctantly worked on the wards, Bill didn't notice the redhead in the distance, staring in his direction through a window from one of the old, dusty, and never-used classrooms.

After a few minutes of looking in the forest sadly, Ron left the classroom. That day, everyone willing to look at him would notice the miserable look. Nobody was willing, though. Even Ginny was still in her bizarre state, and Hermione wasn't to be seen anywhere.

The day's taut atmosphere was also reinforced when some classes were cancelled, without prior notice. One moment, students were waiting for a teacher in the usual classroom, and the next, another teacher, or even Filch, came by and shooed them in their common rooms. The missing teachers weren't even to be seen in the castle, and at lunch, half the staff table was empty and the students' rumour mill was running out of possible ideas for their disappearance. Marcus Flint, a seventh year Slytherin, even suggested that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened again. Of course, he didn't say it discreetly, no. He told it while walking right behind Ginny Weasley. The callous remark didn't fare well with her, and she marched up to him and slapped him, before leaving the Great Hall, tears streaking her face.

However, said teachers hadn't left the castle at all. They were all in McGonagall's office, with other people who seldom showed themselves in the school at all. There were most of Hogsmeade shops' tenants there, curious about why they had been asked to evacuate the village in the school. Madam Rosmerta, who owned of the pub 'The Three Broomsticks' was there, as well as the tenants of Zonko's, Honeyduke's, Gladrag's and Dervish & Banges. They were seated together and spoke in hushed tones.

Next to them was a large group of Aurors, some of them nervous while others looked at ease. Looking at the ease with which the famous Kingsley Shacklebolt went along with Albus Dumbledore, the younger Aurors, who had been sent here on duty, relaxed somewhat. Some renewed acquaintances with long-lost colleagues or friends.

The office had been enlarged for the occasion, as a group of fifty persons was now hovering around the place, greeting friends and trying to find a place to sit. Once everyone was settled, Dumbledore spoke first, assuming his role of leader once more.

"Welcome everyone. To the ones who I meet regularly in that fashion, welcome again. To the others, let me present you a very special group of people, dedicated in fighting Voldemort or any other Dark Lord like him, before him, and we'd like to be alive afterwards to take care of the next one too. We fought Voldemort during his first rise, and we'll continue now, like the phoenix which rises from his ashes again and again. This day will be very special, and it's my pleasure to welcome you in the Order of the Phoenix."

A third of the people seated applauded. The ones who didn't applause were the newly inducted members, and they looked around them, still unsure about the people in the room. Seeing their confusion, the old Professor spoke again.

"The membership in the Order of the Phoenix gives you an inside view of the forces of the Light. It will allow a better protection around you by providing special locations, special guards, and special training. Conversely, it also allows the Order to use special talents or abilities to their fullest in this war." He winked towards Tonks, who had the grace to blush slightly. "Of course, this is on a voluntary manner. We'll ask you at one point if you agree to undertake such missions."

As he continued, his face and voice became sinister. "However, I feel that circumstances are pushing us to volunteer ourselves soon. That's also why the Hogsmeade village has been evacuated in the castle. For those of you who don't know about it yet, Dementors have left Azkaban, and they are headed this way. This move is signed by the group of people we are currently at war against: Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

The sharp intakes of breath heard around the room were a clear indication that there would be some work to convince everyone to dare say that accursed man's name. However, they weren't shouting, crying, or doing whatever stupid action crowds tended to. Dumbledore smiled faintly. This was no crowd. This was an army in making. He became serious again. "To everyone, I have the displeasure to inform you that the Dementors' escapade is going faster than predicted. They have been spotted by wizards near Inverness a while ago, and I fear they will be here in the evening."

In the commotion that ensued, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody spoke loudly, successfully reclaiming attention. The man was a grizzled and retired Auror with a wooden leg and a magical eye, and he was well-known in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for his temper and paranoia, something which made the room silent again soon.

"QUIET! People, calm down! Now, Albus, I understand that the wards will protect the castle?"

"Normally, yes, Alastor. But I felt something tugging at them this morning. After a quick sweep of the grounds, we didn't see anyone threatening the school. I can't eliminate the possibility of a curse breaker in Voldemort's ranks, though." Raising his arms to prevent further disorder, as he saw that several persons had sat up, he went on. "Even if the few professional curse breakers are bound by an oath not to use their skills to harm, and even if most of them are employed by a few select companies, we can't reject that possibility."

He looked toward Molly Weasley and she nodded in return. He then addressed everyone else. "You have perhaps read that Bill Weasley has been missing for some time. I hope that he has nothing to do in it and that we will find him in a good health.

"We are not here to discuss about that, although remotely. I have a choice to make about two missions."

That perked everybody's ears, and they leaned on, while the old wizard continued.

"Obviously, the first mission will be the castle's protection itself. We thought... I thought that we had more time on our hands, and we didn't send the children home. Sending them now would be pure slaughter so it's excluded also. The other factor in this is the Ministry Department of Law Enforcement, which can't really help us. The only personnel they could afford to give us are already here, as the other Aurors try to maintain peace in the now-deserted Azkaban. Needless to say, there have been cases of prisoners escaping after the Dementors left. Most of the escapees were Death Eaters, and our intelligence thinks that they have joined the ranks of their master."

This bit of news was received with gasps and angry shouts. Sensing that their side was in a bad shape, people started to argue again, about responsibilities and battle plans. However, the old and imperturbable Moody started to tap his wooden leg on the floor repeatedly. The clicking sound unnerved everyone, but quieted them as well, allowing the scarred Auror to ask a question.

"Albus, you spoke about two missions."

"True. If you all would calm down, we will tell you about a breakthrough that we made, concurrently with our enemy, Voldemort." Dumbledore seemed not to notice the still fair number of people wincing upon hearing the accursed name, and carried on. "Severus?"

The Potion Master, still on the throes of his discussions with the Dementor, raised his head suddenly as if awakening, and shook himself before standing up to speak.

"I know that, over the years, most of us have been informed of the particularly successful achievements of some Hogwarts students, whether it is for future careers or plain Order information. In the current school year, there has been a markedly studious student here, Miss Hermione Granger. Not satisfied with the regular school work, she has often directed herself towards other studious activities. In the previous years, it had been her self-imposed task to follow Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley in their dangerous trips around the school." it took Snape's best effort to repress the reflex sneer on speaking those names, but he managed, to Dumbledore amused look "This year, she had taken a particular interest in the... I'll ask you not to shout after this. She studied theoretical means of communicating with any creatures, especially Dementors."

People around the table gasped, but kept quiet as Snape was about to continue.

"She has read that no one had ever been interested in the soul-sucking creatures in a long time, everybody being quite content of them guarding Azkaban Island, and she suspected that someone able to communicate with them could possibly give them orders. That idea led to the abstract fact that Voldemort could be able to direct a small army of them into battle. Alas, she had been proven true recently.

"Interested in her research, and with Albus' guidance, I worked with her on a real Dementor, and we discovered various facts. First, all of them appear to share their thoughts, and they call themselves the Cohort, collectively. Speaking with one was like speaking with all of them. We discovered that we could give orders to all of them while only speaking to one. We also found out that an unknown device, supposedly hidden in Azkaban, could help in speaking with them. You see, at the current rate, we can only exchange a couple of sentences per day, through a mix of magic and muggle devices. The other way of communicating with them was through a modified Legilimency spell, but the split second I spent in one of their mind was debilitating enough. I suspect that Voldemort forced his servants to do that, though, as I can't imagine him meddling with muggle tools like our current Minister."

Some of the people around the table, who knew of Arthur Weasley's annoying fascination with muggle appliances, smiled at this, while others looked around in bewilderment. Unfazed by their lack of understanding, the Potion Master carried on.

"Yesterday, when Albus took on the Dementor questioning, he ordered them not to attack Hogwarts, but the creature answered that Voldemort already ordered the attack and prevented any counter order. That's why we have Dementors heading this way. They don't even feed off the areas they pass through."

Albus stood up, and spoke while the other man sat down. Even if he had plenty of questions for the old man, concerning a golden griffin and an animagus, Severus would have to wait to ask them.

"Thank you, Severus. The second mission I mentioned earlier was to discover the communication device hidden in Azkaban. The Dementors call it a Commanding Helm, and it is supposed to be protected by powerful illusions.

"Now, we are going to split our numbers. Anyone proficient enough with the Patronus charm will stay here to defend the castle, aided by our most talented students in that regard. If you can summon a corporeal Patronus, raise your hand."

Almost everyone raised theirs; the ones not raised being the members more into the political wing of the order. However, these ones couldn't fight very well either, and Albus had a problem on his hands.

"As Aurors are currently patrolling the prison, our other mission shouldn't need a fighting aspect. We discovered that Voldemort hadn't asked the questions relative to the Commanding Helm, but we can't hope that he won't know about it soon. It means that there could be some physical opposition on the way, although less than if the Death Eaters wouldn't be occupied with attacking Hogwarts already. Illusions are to be expected also, so I guess that you could be assigned this task, Alastor."

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody grumbled something about keeping him out of harm's way, but he relented anyway. After all, his magical eye, able to see through illusions, would be of invaluable help there.

Seeing that everything was on its way, and having to question the Dementor to get information about ways to wound them, Severus Snape excused himself and quickly left the office. Once back in his house, he found Hermione napping, her head on her arms on the study table she had assigned herself. He woke her gently and summed up what had transpired from the meeting.

While he prepared himself to interrogate the soul-sucker again, she was plunged in thoughts. She even interrupted him as he was about to drink the potion.

"Ron has to go."

"What?"

"I think Ronald Weasley has to go to Azkaban to search for the Helm."

"Why would he be of any help? He can't even defend himself!"

"I know that. It's just that he demonstrated some... I don't know... some kind of 'visionary' talent. Remember the alley with the lions? He knew something there. That kind of talent could be useful while searching for the Helm. And his brothers can protect him."

He thought about it for a moment, before giving in. He informed Dumbledore of this bit of information through the Floo, and privately added that Hermione should be included in the Order of the Phoenix. To disguise his interest in his student's career, he used the pretext of not wanting to be the messenger between the girl and the Head of the Order. Albus chuckled at that, having read through his Potion Master. Cutting the connection, Snape finished his preparation and went to discuss with the wretched creature again.

In Hogwarts, the meeting continued, being more a pre-battle plan than any of their usual reunions. Madam Rosmerta, who owned the pub 'The Three Broomsticks' in Hogsmeade, as well as Arabella Figg and Hestia Jones, initial members of the Order of the Phoenix, were quite talented in healing, and they went to get acquainted with Madam Pomfrey and the Hospital Wing. Even if Arabella Figg couldn't cast spells because she was a squib, she was quite proficient with bandages and could help the wounded.

The ones apt for fighting were sent on reconnaissance on the many spots where the enemy could attack. It was going to be a battle to the death, and they all knew it, so they collapsed and magically sealed every secondary entrance. A special team, led by Sturgis Podmore and reluctantly joined by Filch, was given a list of secret passages locations to collapse them. Remus and Sirius, assisted by a few others, explored the castle to tag the noteworthy spying places. The remaining witches and wizards spent time casting several spells on several dozen broaches transfigured from a box of needles. For the first time in history, first-year courses in Transfiguration were used in a war effort.

In mid-afternoon, Dumbledore summoned all students and teachers in the Great Hall, and counted them magically. Once he was sure that everybody was there, he sealed the Hall's massive doors. Whoever wanting to enter or exit would use the Professor's entrance, and that one was hidden from the outside. This done, he softly called for one of his preferred house-elf.

"Dobby."

Nobody knew how the diminutive and hyperactive creature and the tall and calm human had met each other. Fewer then knew that it was Harry Potter who had freed the house-elf from the clutches of the Malfoy patriarch. As it was, linked by their mutual love of the finest socks, the house-elf appeared to the wizard in a happy pop before hugging Dumbledore's legs. Here too, nobody knew an apparation pop could even sound happy but the creature was a reserve of happiness in itself. After smiling, thinking that everybody would need that kind of reserve soon, Dumbledore separated Dobby from his... socks.

"Dobby, I need this room furnished so that the young people here can live in it. I will take some of them with me, but please add some walls to make bedrooms, bathrooms, and the like. Afterwards, you will direct the other house-elves in preparing a snack and later a dinner. I don't know how long it will be before the Headmistress or I can take the matter of the meals in our hands."

He looked thoughtful, remembering a job interview from one of his current teachers, a long time ago. When he spoke again, it was even more quietly than before. "In fact, two adults will stay here, Dobby. Professor Sinistra will keep an eye around, and you will refer to her until I come back. I will send you someone else afterwards, a wizard called Elphias Doge. He is a good friend of mine, and you will treat him as such."

The elf had been bobbing his head up and down all along, his tennis-ball-sized eyes fixed on the wizard. When Dumbledore paused, Dobby judged it was his cue. "Of course, mister Dumbley. I will be preparing room and food. I will..."

"Dobby, wait." Dumbledore had just the time to take hold of the diminutive creature before Dobby could lunge away. Looking at him in his oversized eyeballs, he spoke again, barely suppressing a laugh. "Not now, Dobby. Wait until I leave the room to begin with creating the rooms."

"Oh. Okay, great mister Dumbley. I waiting now. Good?"

"Good."

And the elf vanished. Bracing himself, Dumbledore then turned towards the 250 students facing him, who did still not understand why they had been summoned, locked shut, and why Dumbledore was talking with an agitated house-elf who wore more socks that was humanly possible.

"Students!"

The word drew the attention of every single soul in the hall. Well, those who were engaged listened too.

"You have being called to be informed of a matter of great urgency and importance."

Total silence.

"We are going to be attacked. Soon."

Total chaos.

Dumbledore had to spend the best part of two minutes to get the calm back.

"I'm not going to answer your answers about it yet, because time is the essence, now. However, if you reflect on the creatures we pushed you to study recently, you might have an idea of what awaits us."

At this, more cries erupted in the room. Some fragile young students fainted, and Madam Pomfrey had to help them. When the commotion died down again, Albus Dumbledore braced himself again.

"You see, we didn't make you study it by chance. What I will ask you now require a great strength of mind to answer positively, so I won't be disappointed if nobody steps forward to volunteer for the defence of Hogwarts."

Dumbledore had thought that chaos would erupt again, but a foreboding silence settled in the large dining hall. The sudden thought that he misspelled some word or another struck him, and he drew a deep breath to ask again, when a chair scraped on the floor, and Ron Weasley stood up, before walking towards the aged professor.

"What are you doing?" asked Dumbledore, not quite understanding why one student, and especially this one, would step up like this.

Looking him with abnormally piercing eyes, Ron answered "Stepping forward. I volunteer."

Of course, that sentence was met by shouts, as most of the Gryffindors, bold and brave as they were, realized that they had been stepped over. The other Houses followed suit also. The Hufflepuffs were loyal to the school and a great deal of them wanted to protect it. Several of the Ravenclaws thought that a real battle was a unique opportunity to learn something new. And even a few Slytherins thought that something could be gained from it. The line of volunteers extended until meeting the now sealed doors and even more people were still pooling there.

"Very well. Very well. I'm proud of you. We are proud of you." Dumbledore indicated, encompassing the staff with his gesture. Remembering something from the draft of battle plans he had briefly spoken with Moody about, he added "I feel I have to inform you that there will be danger."

A loud cheer welcomed this remark. The students were wise enough to understand that an attack meant danger. Even Ellen McCullough, the Hufflepuff first year who fainted, knew that. So they gave themselves courage in front of the adversity by doing the only thing they knew: yelling their youth and their will to live to the face of the world.

Dumbledore was moved, but he had other things to say. "You know that there will be Dementors. We will ask for some of you to produce corporeal Patronuses. The others will have things to do, protecting them from curses that could be thrown from other opponents."

A girl in the volunteering file spoke up. "Other opponents, sir?"

"Yes, Marig. Dementors don't move like that by themselves. They are sided with... Death Eaters."

A dead silence fell on the hall, and Ellen fainted again, this time joined by Mandy Prosperius, another young witch this time from Ravenclaw. The students in the line looked visibly nervous.

Dumbledore spoke again. "True, I should have told you so beforehand. I will understand if you don't want to volunteer anymore. Although I have a quieter job for some of you not cut for battle. I will need eyes." Seeing incomprehension in most faces, he elaborated. "We need spies who will inform us of every movement on the ground. They will not fight and will be given mean to retreat to safety should anything happen. Now... make your decision. We will be leaving in five minutes, and then the elves will arrange this Hall so that the remaining students can live in it."

"I'm not retreating right now, General."

Once again, Ronald Weasley managed to surprise everyone within hearing range. Which included pretty much everyone in the worrying silence. But his sentence had another effect.

"General?" Dumbledore was intrigued.

"Yes, sir. We need an identifier to call you in the battle. You're not Headmaster anymore, and there are many Professors. You are leading us to battle, General."

The Weasley twins, a few ranks behind Ron, looked at each other in wonder, then mischief. "I like the sound of it..."

"...it sounds like we are invincible."

"We are led to battle..."

"...by the General himself!"

"The General..."

The word began to be repeated by several students in the room, as well as some teachers.

"General."

The word acquired strength, as if it was given birth in front of everyone, out of everyone.

"General!"

The cheer which rose threatened to make everyone deaf.

"GENERAL!"

The newly-appointed General Dumbledore raised his hand, and instant silence reigned in the hall. He looked at his hand, surprised. Did he cast a wandless Silencing spell? Looking at the students, he realized that no. They were in their character, now. And he had to be in his, for their sake. Realizing the mix-up of houses in the now three-persons-wide line of volunteers, he instantly decided on a rallying cry.

"United, we stand!"

The motto was repeated by the students, and everyone then calmed down. Hiding a smirk, Dumbledore gestured to Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Short of himself and Filch, both too old to run around the castle, these two knew the building like their own pocket. He took a bag in one of his pockets and enlarged it. Inside were the results of quite a bit of spellcasting. He took one crude broach out and showed it to the students.

"This is how we are going to communicate. You are going to be split into teams, and two persons in each team will put that broach on. Everything said while pressing it will be sent to me. Now, those volunteering for a spying job, step toward professors Lupin and Black. After splitting you, they will assign you your places."

Sirius spoke up. "Thank you, Alb... General. We will need twelve teams of two. That's 24 students, yes, Miss Brocklehurst. All of these teams will be assigned places to stay and spy, and report everything unusual through the brooches. If anything happens, use the broach to call for someone. Don't leave the room unless there is immediate danger, understood? No wandering around!" He waited to catch everyone's eye, making sure that the message was correctly grasped. It was tearing his Marauder's heart, but this was war, and these kids had to obey. "Eight of these teams will be assigned spying places outside, and four will be inside."

"Why inside?" blurted Tracey Davis, one of the few Slytherins to stand in the line.

"You are questioning me?" Sirius had a twinkle of his own, but his demeanour was serious and the girl was quite taken aback.

"Err... no, sir?"

"You should." At this, he smiled and she knew that she had been had. She stayed in the line, however. If anything is taught in Slytherin, it's that turncoats are never appreciated. Well... when doing so openly, of course.

"To answer Miss Davis, the inside places are to be sure that there is no inside invasion. That no Death Eater finds a crack in our inner wards and starts to Apparate anywhere. You'll sure start by missing some of the action, but, believe me, your work will be most important if you actually see someone trudging in."

In the following silence, Remus patted Sirius' shoulder, muttering "You scared them, now. Way to go, Padfoot." He then straightened up, and asked "Volunteers for spying, come here."

While the crowd skimmed itself, Dumbledore talked again. "In the same way, there will be teams of defenders sent in several places in the castle. I do hope that none will get hurt, and we will redistribute the teams if the need arises. Please come towards me in three files. On my right, those who had successfully cast a corporeal Patronus in front of our resident Dementor. On my left, those who can't cast a Patronus at all but wish to defend, using the usual spells. In the middle, those of you who can do both, and those who either succeeded in producing sparks or a mist against the Dementor or a full animal without the Dementor's influence."

The crowd sorted itself, and Dumbledore was quite satisfied that all lines were of equal length.

"Albus?"

He turned around and saw the perplexed face of Sirius. "Yes?"

"They are too many."

The 'General' Dumbledore looked at his waiting would-be troops. Truth be told, they were five more students, all eager to participate in this. Dumbledore was happy that there were more than needed rather than fewer. Reflecting about this, he quickly answered. "Keep one team of two in here and redistribute the three others. One in the north, the others around the Entrance."

"Yes General!" Sirius mock-saluted and Dumbledore chuckled. He wouldn't hear the end of it. His thought stopped suddenly. He wouldn't hear the end of it... if the school was still standing tomorrow. Sighing, he returned to his battle groups while Sirius and Remus led the spies out of the Great Hall, promising to come back later for the fighters.

"We are going to split you in several groups of four students, and each group will be headed by an adult witch or wizard. In a group, you will obey that adult, understood?"

"Yes, General!"

He sighed again. These kids were playing war. He hoped that it would stay a game for most of them, but doubted it. Pondering about the meaning of life and such trivialities, he stumbled upon three redheads.

The Weasleys! He had almost forgotten Hermione's advice, relayed by Snape.

Looking around, he noticed that Ginny must have left with the spies. Not to attract undue attention to them, he rounded them for another group of four, assigning them with Cedric Diggory.

When Remus and Sirius came back, panting, from their roundabout in the castle, Dumbledore had split the groups, and had told them not to move, as he knew precisely which group he wanted where.

Wishing a good afternoon to the students staying, he led the students out of the Great Hall like the pied piper, and led them first towards the Battle Room, also followed by the teachers. Once there, he gave each group the accompanying adult corresponding to his plan. Then, one group after another, he dispatched them around the castle, in the places that have been cleaned and prepared by the reconnaissance team. In classrooms, furniture had been moved to provide maximum protection. In the offices, dorms, and private quarters which had been deemed interesting places to fight, the private stuff had been stowed away and the furniture had followed the same rule than the classrooms: maximum cover, protection, and opportunity of fire.

After dropping a dozen groups, the remaining students were startled to find themselves in the Entrance Hall.

"Dear students, colleagues, and friends." Dumbledore had turned, his back to the gates, and his tone was foreboding. "In my whole career, I had always hoped that a day like this would never come. Alas, Fate proved me wrong, once again." He looked at his troops and his heart rose in his throat. He swallowed the tears that threatened the image of a strong leader he had to give. He smiled, thinking about a sentence he had read, once, a day that he was bored and indulged in some cheap muggle literature. A sentence that a tough leader could use right now. "Let's just prove to these bastards that we are tougher than them!"

The shocked silence lapsed only half a second, before the cheers erupted from the galvanized people. The shouts could be heard far into the castle, and, for a moment, they thought they heard an echo until they realized that the other groups must be cheering too.

Dumbledore was pained. These ones were the best. The others they had dispatched in the classrooms were going to fight from a distance. Of course, there was danger. But the ones in the Entrance Hall were going to clash directly with the Dementors. A sudden idea came to him and he silently called forth his Phoenix familiar. Once the ball of flames had receded, everyone looked at the beautiful bird in awe. Dumbledore spent a few seconds in silent discussion with the bird, before nodding, and addressing the defenders again. "Here is Fawkes, 'my' phoenix, even if I have the impression that I belong more to him than him to me." After the chuckles died down, he continued. "Know that he will stay here and help you during the fight."

He raised his arm, and the Phoenix flew up and settled on the chandelier, before singing. Dumbledore had told him to, for a few seconds, so that the defenders wouldn't be surprised or too relaxed should that happen in mid-fight. Comforted by the magical song, the students, teachers, Aurors, and town people began to place themselves according to the plan that Dumbledore and Moody had drawn, aided by Fletcher and others. The usual exits were blocked by conjured vertical walls. Several inside balconies were added so that the defenders would be in the air, most of them out of reach of the Dementors. Before leaving, though, Dumbledore went to the group with the three redheads.

"You okay, boys?"

"Yes, General!" they all answered at once.

"Easy, easy. Mr. Diggory, I have something to say to the Weasleys."

"Right away, sir." He turned around, and spotted the flying instructor nearby. "I'll be helping Professor Hooch." he said, before doing that.

Cutting the pleasantries, Dumbledore looked intently at Ron. "Someone asked me to include you in a mission."

"A mission?" Fred and George didn't complete each other's sentence that time, as they said it together, mouth opened wide in awe. Nobody in his right mind would give the twins an Earth-saving mission, but Dumbledore was there, cursing his lack of options. Ron was looking at him, unfazed.

"Yes, a mission. You are going to Azkaban-"

"Already?"

"We didn't do anything!"

After a stern glance, which calmed twins somewhat, he started again. "As I was trying to say before being interrupted, you are going to Azkaban... to recover an item. Well, if my contact was any good, you two are going there to protect your brother here. He should work at finding the... that artefact."

The twins looked at each other. What ensued was one of the chief annoyances of the twins: the ability to hold a whole conversation without audible element. After a few seconds, they turned towards Dumbledore again.

"We accept."

"Very well. And you, Ron?"

"I do."

"Wait for me here, then, I'll soon lead you to the adult in charge." Seeing the crestfallen look on George's face, he chortled. "You didn't think I was letting you go inside Azkaban without a proper escort, now, did you?"

"Ahem... no..."

"...Of course not."

"Well, then. I'll just put Mr. Diggory with another group, then."

"Too bad, he seems a good bloke..."

"...Can hold his own against our jokes!"

Tuning out their good-natured banter, he went to Cedric Diggory and set him in another group. To his question about the Weasleys, Dumbledore looked at him pointedly and winked, before uttering "Top Secret".

He then left the Entrance Hall with the three young redheads in tow. After explaining the Azkaban mission to them, he rounded Moody and the two Aurors he had chosen, and, giving them a portkey to come back, he sent them on the prison island.

The next thing Dumbledore did was looking through the window, reflecting about what he should do. True, he was one of the most powerful wizards alive, and he could out-duel almost anyone. However, that wasn't going to be a proper duel at all. He could hold his own in such a battle too, but he was older than before, and couldn't somersault to evade curses like before. And, in front of Dementors, his Patronus was as good as anyone's. He could stay in the room and conduct the battle as a whole, but then, his magical power would be quite useless...

His magical power.

Of course!

He mentally slapped himself on the forehead. No need to show these people around that he forgot something. He went to McGonagall, and spoke softly to her.

"Minerva."

The tone was quite urgent, and she looked up, startled. "Albus?"

"I need to go in the inner Headmaster office. Have you changed the password?"

"No. Why?"

"I forgot that I still have the ability to strengthen the wards. They have been mollified, that I can perceive, but I can straighten them before they fall. Only..."

"Yes?"

"It will wear me out. I won't be able to fight immediately if the need arises."

"Oh! Albus! What will you do?"

"That's the question I have been asking myself recently."

"You think that the Azkaban mission will be successful? That this... this 'helmet' will be useable to direct these creatures? I heard that they counted in hundreds..."

"Precisely. But, rather than bet on the student's ability to defend the castle against these beasts, I prefer to give my own energy. You'll be the link between me and the Battle Room. If the helmet arrives before the wards fail, that's for the better. However, if the wards fail completely, I will be exhausted, so..."

"I know, Albus... I'll know what to do."

They nodded, and separated, the wizened professor heading in the remote part of the Headmistress quarters, where the room controlling the wards was.

The sun was descending in the horizon, and the still castle was waiting for the onslaught.

To be continued in next chapter: Horrors...

Did they meet or did they not?
I could leave a happier note.
However, the battle comes,
Heavens'll rage soon at them worms.