Balance: by rabbit
Disclaimer: No, not mine. Honest. Fun to play with, but the characters, settings and etcetera are all JK Rowling's toys except for the balrog, and I don't know if JRR Tolkien invented him/it or borrowed elsewhere anyway.
Chapter 3: Aftermath?
Summary: We've won! Haven't we?
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Beyond the outer wall of the grounds, the paths were obscured by mud, and the damage from the water had confused any landmarks Harry could remember. He slowed down some more and listened. No balrog roars, which was good, but he thought he could hear a waterfall. There weren't any waterfalls near Hogwarts.
He flew on. Without warning the ground fell away beneath him, rocky and mudslimed, and spotted here and there with the silver glints of dead or dying fish. Harry tilted the broom down, and suddenly found himself below the mist. He was in the deep irregular bowl of the lakebed, and it was nearly fifty feet down to the silver surface of the water. Along the far wall there were three waterfalls, where streams fed into the lake from the mountains. Harry could see merpeople clustering near the places where the cool mountain water reached the remains of the lake, and caught glimpses of the squid's tentacles moving restlessly under the surface. Of the balrog there was no sign.
Harry flew over to the nearest clump of merpeople. One of them popped its head up above the water to look at him and he landed on a rock near it. "Are you all all right?" he asked, uncertainly. "I'm sorry we had to put that thing in your lake, but it was all we could think of."
"We are too warm, and some are injured, but we fled in good time," the merman answered, fortunately in English, although it's high squeaky voice was hard to understand. "Where is Dumbledore?"
"Hurt," Harry said. "I'm going to go and find out how badly as soon as I tell the others that the balrog's dead. It is dead, isn't it? I mean, we couldn't see past the mist."
"Not dead, but banished back to its own place and time," the merman said. "And much diminished into the bargain. I doubt it can return; and if it did, it would be no taller than your hand."
"Thank you," Harry said with relief. "Do you want Madame Pomfrey to come and see if any of your people need medicines?"
"If we need aid, we will send for it." The merman assured him.
Harry turned the broom upwards and tried to find a path he knew. He was still working it out when all of a sudden he heard a chorused shout from the rooftops and the fog vanished upwards, forming into a small cloud.
The other students were still waving wands, keeping the cloud intact, when Harry got close enough to shout, "It's gone!" to Lee Jordan and wave reassuringly to the others as Lee passed along the word. He looked for a place to land, but every way he turned, the other students clustered towards him, taking up all the space to wave at him and cheer.
. "Potter! Potter!" someone started to chant, and Harry shook his head, waving at them to stop. He didn't want the credit. He didn't want any publicity this year at all if he could help it.
"It was Hermione's idea which spell to use," he shouted, to make sure he was heard by most of the tower. "And Draco Malfoy's the one who figured out how to get rid of that thing. Shout for them, if you want to."
"MALFOY!" shouted most of the boys, and Draco was subjected to a friendly buffeting by the prefects. "GRANGER!" replied the girls, and Hermione blushed at the accolade as the hurrahs began.
"Keep your minds on the spell!" Cho Chang ordered fiercely, "Lee, get them to concentrate!"
"All right you lot," Lee called obligingly. "We don't need our pet cloud for the balrog, but that forest fire doesn't look too friendly either. Come on, just a little more effort here." Most of the students chuckled, but turned their wands and eyes obediently.
Harry hovered nearer to where Ron was standing. "Check the stairs, will you, Ron? If it's safe enough, they ought to have moved so that we can all get down again."
"Good idea. I don't like the look of those lightning clouds. They've gotten closer if you ask me." Ron nodded his head, since his wand hand was busy, down toward the lawns. "The teachers are a right mess, too. You'd better get down there with some of the ones who know healing spells straight away."
"Some of the house elves are hurt too," Hermione pointed out. "They were coming out to help when the water hit."
Harry turned his head to look. Ron and Hermione were right. The wave had left half the lawns deep in slime and mud, and there were small struggling figures all over the place. Hagrid was bent over something near the Whomping Willow, and Trelawney was sitting on the wall, perfectly dry, putting away a purple parasol with a calm air. Snape, McGonagall and Hooch were with Sprout, bent over Dumbledore. As he watched, Snape took Hooch's broom and mounted it, heading back toward the forest, with McGonagall leaping into her cat form and snagging a ride on the bristles as he disappeared into the trees.
The small cloud under the children's control burst into rain, dousing the highest patch of flames. They cheered, but their cheers were met by the rattle of thunder from the approaching clouds.
"We've got to get off the roof!" several people screamed.
"Don't panic!" Lee Jordan commanded. "First years, get to the ladder. Everyone else, wait your turn."
Draco struggled his way to the outer wall. "Potter, I need my broom!"
"Potter!" Hooch called from the ground, at full Quidditch referee volume. "Get that broom down here!"
Harry shrugged an apology at Draco and turned the broom towards the ground. "Coming!" he shouted back, and then hesitated glancing beyond the tower to the stormclouds. They were definitely coming closer, and the lightning looked like something out of a very scary movie. "Draco, brooms for the Quidditch players, to get the staff and the students inside. Does Slytherin have enough?"
Draco blinked, but nodded, his shoulders straightening. "Of course."
"NOW, POTTER!" Hooch roared.
"It's up to you, then!" Harry told Draco and went to Hooch at the best speed the broom could manage. "Sorry," he told her as he dismounted and she snagged the broom for herself. "The merpeople say that the balrog's been banished, and Malfoy's going to try to get the Quidditch players brooms enough to help everyone inside," he reported quickly, trying not to stare at the diamond mesh pattern of burns on her left hand and the left side of her face.
"That's a start at least. What on earth possessed you lot to all go out on the roof? It's going to be coming down pitchforks in a minute!"
"We helped," Harry said weakly, but he said it to her back. She was already halfway up to the tower. In a moment he could hear her taking command of the swarm of Quidditch players who'd acquired brooms.
There was plenty to do on the ground, he told himself, after a moment of feeling lost. And he still hadn't reported to Dumbledore. Harry took a deep breath and turned to face the Headmaster. Given how both Hooch and Snape had reacted, he wasn't sure if Dumbledore was going to approve of what the students had done. "But it did get rid of the balrog," Harry reminded himself quietly. Then he got a good look at Dumbledore and found something else to worry about.
For the first time since he'd known him, Harry saw Professor Dumbledore looking as old as he was. One arm was bound to his chest, and his robes had rips in them as well as mud and blood. Professor Sprout was moving him, very carefully, onto a stretcher, but he blinked and even tried to smile as Harry came over to help. "Harry…"
"The balrog's gone, sir." Harry told him, taking a careful hold to help Sprout move the old man. "The merpeople told me it was banished, something about back to its own place and time."
"Excellent." Dumbledore said. "And the merpeople? I intended … bringing water … from the lake, not … the other way round."
"Some of them got hurt," Harry admitted, trying not to think about how frail and thin Dumbledore felt through his robes. "But I don't think any of them were hurt badly."
"None of them had trees falling on them," Sprout said briskly, tucking her cloak over Dumbledore. "Unlike certain headmasters. Don't you look so worried, Potter. He'll be fine once Madame Pomfrey sees to those broken ribs and that arm and leg."
"Reminds me … of my Quidditch days…" Dumbledore said, with a ghost of his usual twinkle.
The Weasley twins and the two Slytherin beaters hovered suddenly nearby. "We're to carry the headmaster inside," Fred said. "Professor Sprout, Madame Hooch says can you and the others keep the lightning off the towers for ten minutes more, please. And get the house-elves in."
"Very well. Keep him level. And straight to the Great Hall. Madame Pomfrey should be waiting there." Sprout pulled Harry aside so that each beater could grab a corner of the stretcher, but she didn't stop to watch the way he did, as the four students carefully flew in formation to bring the stretcher to the main doors. Instead, she went to the wall and called to Madame Trelawney and the two women began to work some kind of complicated spell together.