A/N: Revised the legal aspect of each chapter in order to get a somewhat more accurate word count. Next couple of chaps flow quicker, possible end in sight around April. Filled in a few plot holes, too.
Chapter XXXII: No Illusions
Harry sat on the bleachers of the Quidditch pitch, watching the team at practice. The end of the Christmas break had arrived to find some changes to the team. Ron still captained, Katie, Angelina, and Alicia were still chasers, and the twins were the beaters. However, Doc had taken time off from Quidditch due to his injuries, and also because it appeared he wanted to help partake in the defense of the school since Harry was out of action. Which was where Ginny had come into the picture…
Ginny, it turned out, was one very accomplished flyer, as, in the words of Hermione, she had been stealing brooms out of the boys' broom shed back at the burrow and flying since as soon as Ron was out of the house. Harry had been rather amused to hear that, and went out to see her tryout the week before and liked what he saw. Personal feelings aside, she flew like a hawk: speed, precision and daring. Harry had been quite surprised at some of the tricks she had pulled. What had been even more impressive was the fact she was using a fourth-rate Comet that had been top-of the line when Charlie Weasley captained the team whilst doing so.
Harry watched as Ginny maneuvered through the air to chase down a speedy Snitch. Ginny took everything with a determined look on her face, nothing fazed her as the cold wind blew in her face, her fiery hair French braided on her head. Harry loved to watch her, and beamed as he watched his lady catch it. Yet, part of him was bothered by the fact that there were a couple of occasions where Ginny could have caught it, yet hadn't been able to. The only reason he could find for that being the case was the quality of the broom she was using.
Perhaps if she used a Nimbus series or better yet a Firebolt… Harry mused as the practice came to an end and the team landed. Ron was having a meeting with the players, including the reserve team. Harry understood as the week after next would be a Quidditch match with Slytherin and Ravenclaw, he would be a bit touchy. Doubtless, the fact Ron had consistently missed more then caught the Quaffle (ensuring that Doc or the girls had to constantly outscore the opposition in order to pull off the wins they had) had something to do with it. Additionally, after Harry's little dustup with Malfoy and the Slytherins, Ron was smart enough to know they were going to go after him and use his recent poor performances as a weapon.
Harry continued with his musings for a minute, and then reached over to his black book bag and pulled out pen and paper. Working quickly he jotted down a few words on the parchment, waved it a bit so the ink could dry, and folded it into his hand. Getting up, he walked towards the team, which was heading to the locker rooms to shower and change. Harry caught up with them, and started chatting away with Ron and the rest of the team. Doc, and Neville came up and soon everyone was talking of various things that happened today, such as the latest barbs Snape threw around. Harry had learned to armor himself in the harsh words of those against him, those including Snape and Malfoy. The dust up in the Great Hall only made things reach a simmering point; Harry had to wonder when things boiled over…and just how bad the bang would be as one could only take slurs, sneers, and mocking faces so long before one removed them at the expense of others.
As he talked and joked with his friends, Harry slipped a note quietly into Ginny's hand. Harry kept his face straight, as he felt Ginny take the note, and slid it up a sleeve. Ginny threw her head back and laughed, and Harry marveled at how soft, and warm, and…
Easy there, don't want to let the game up quite yet, Harry thought to himself as he smoothly broke the contact and went forward so that Ginny was behind him. Their contact had been only for a second, yet long enough for Harry. Tradecraft, the skills of spies, more often then not included a heavy amount of learning how to pickpocket, and the use of nimble fingers. Harry had found he wasn't the most dexterous of men, but time, and a healthy amount of practice (ranging from roll a rubber ball between his fingers, to his 'extracurricular' over the summer) ensure he was somewhat proficient at it. Regardless, it was a useful skill, and one that he was glad for as he waited the night.
* * *
Harry watched his breath steam in the cold night air, and practiced breathing slowly. Deep breath, slow exhale…at the moment, he was outside the castle, near the gardens, behind one of the greenhouses. Harry was still in his school uniform as he had had to serve a detention with Snape, and had only been released a few minutes passed ten. It was cutting his rendezvous with Ginny really close, but that just had to be accepted.
Removing his watch from his pocket, he saw that the time was half past ten. Right when she was to meet him. Harry leaned back into the wall of the greenhouse, wondering if maybe he could spot Ginny. To be truthful with himself, Harry didn't think that was going to happen as ever since he had all but given Ginny his Dad's invisibility cloak, the two of them had been playing a grand game of stalking. Harry was somewhat unnerved to discover that there had been several occasions, despite all the training he had had, that Ginny had been able to sneak up on him. This was why Harry watched the panes of the glass, hoping to see some distortion, and looked at his watch from time to time. His watch had his Foe glass on it, and despite the new moon. Harry's eyes had adjusted to the darkness and could detect motion near surfaces such as glass.
Sure enough, the face of Ginny appeared on his watch. Harry closed it and turned to the panes of glass. Waiting a few minutes, he saw a bit of movement close to him and lashed out with his right hand. Feeling a bit of silky material in hand, Harry grinned as he latched his fingers into it and pulled it towards him. Sure enough, he could feel a warm body come into contact with his, and when he pulled the material away from what he believed was the head, the coquettish smile of Ginny Weasley was before him. She looked as though she was going to going to say something cheeky, but Harry stifled that by bringing his lips to hers. Ginny didn't protest, and they spent a few moments enjoying each other's company.
When they broke away, they held each other close, and didn't say anything for a few seconds. Ginny broke the silence when she looked up into his eyes and asked, "Much as I enjoyed that, Harry, you do have a reason why I'm here and not asleep after my prat of a brother had us practicing all day?"
Harry looked at her, and laughed lightly, "Because I thought you would like the treat I have in store for you and the team for that matter…"
"Oh, and what would that be Harold James Potter?"
Harry continued to only smile as he held his right hand out to his side, and spoke, "Up"
Ginny squealed in delight as she saw Harry's Firebolt come speeding up from the ground into his hand, and both knew the evening was going to be a fun one.
* * *
Harry leaned into the wind, and told Ginny to give it all. They were flying low altitude over the Forbidden Forest, their feet barely brushing the tops of the trees. Harry was behind Ginny, instructing her in the finer points of using the broom, but those was largely redundant as Ginny was enough of a natural flyer that for the most part all he had to do was lean back, and watch the sheer joy and delight on her face. For someone who spent much of his time constantly busy, and nowhere near the sort of man Harry felt she deserved. After all, what sort of man has to see his lady in secrecy, and not very often at that?
Harry rested his chin against her shoulder, and thought of just how much he loved her. The cold wind blew through her hair, and Harry marveled at how even in the black of a new moon, Harry could see it, and how beautiful she looked. With a tap on the shoulder, Harry had Ginny land on the branches of a tall evergreen, and the two cuddled, and talked of everyday things. Ron and Hermione's latest argument (despite being on rather close relations, those two still argued), class assignments, Quidditch, and the latest shenanigans of Fred and George. Harry then opened his heart to her, and talked to her of the war, and of the nightmares he had had. The deaths of Alice, and Sturgis Podmore, had weighed heavily on his mind for the last several months. Harry had slowly been unloading his thoughts and feelings of the subject with Ginny, destroying some of the guilt and depression he felt in the process. Just importantly, more importantly, he wanted to let her know that he trusted her with those secrets one kept hidden away in the recesses of the mind, body, and soul.
Ginny had listened, and Harry had rested his head on her bosom after he had told her of his story. Harry wasn't sure what she would say; after all, the lady in question had once slept with him. Ginny though had told him that Alice had been his friend, the way Hermione and Ron, herself, even were friends. Friends took risks for each other, and, she chided him gently, didn't he realize that after all he had been through?
Harry had nodded silently, and drew her closer to him. The warmth of her body, the smell of the soap she wore, and the shampoo she used was a comfort to him. Ginny held on to him, and Harry knew somehow that maybe he should cry, let the emotions out, but he had long since abandoned tears. Growing up in a household such as the Dursleys, one learned that sobbing was merely a waste of energy, and that it got you no sympathy. Indeed, it was more a sign of weakness, weakness that bastards that Dudley (when he had been a total piece of shit) and his minions pounced upon like jackals. So, all in all, Harry drew comfort from someone he loved, and knew loved him back.
That feeling went away though suddenly as Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Something was wrong, he didn't know what, but ever since the summer time and the firefights he had been in, Harry had developed something like a sixth sense of danger. True, perhaps it wasn't totally the result of his muggle training, and the fact was he had been in some very dicey situations over the past five years, but regardless of how he came about it, he had it and it was telling him something was up. Ginny, too knew something was odd for she had felt his back stiffen, and asked him worriedly, "What's wrong, Harry?"
Harry had put a finger to her lips to quiet her, and dug into his pockets for the pair of magical binoculars his uncle had issued him. Much like the kind he had bought for Ron, Hermione, and himself during the World Cup last year, these were more powerful, though they lacked the fast-forward and replay options. However, they more then made up for that by increased range, magnification, and low light (darkness, poor visibility) capabilities. Using them, he started a 360-degree scan of his surroundings, looking (praying that he was wrong) for signs, any signs of suspicious activity. Sure enough, as he scanned the eastern shoreline of the lake, where the Forest and the lake connected, he spotted a small ship had risen from the depths and was at the distant shoreline. Harry could make out movement, and when he zoomed in he grimaced. Sure enough, there were people, and when he spotted the old Warsaw bloc automatic weapons amongst them, and the Slavic faces, Harry could knew that these were vampires from Belarus that Voldemort was employing.
Based on the fact the bastards were setting up what looked liked wooden satellite dishes around their beachhead with multiple metal slivers stuck in at right angles around it, Harry knew the first line of defense for those in Hogwarts was breached. The bloodsuckers had setup equipment to neutralize the sensors and wards surrounding the school. Furthermore, they were emplacing various tracking equipment in which they would be able to spot any countermoves Dumbledore would make. Harry continued watching, and saw that there were two other variables at play: they had eliminated the six-goblin patrol in their sector (which would give them about anywhere from one minute to twenty as the patrols checked in every twenty minutes), and they still had yet to totally emplace their own sensor suite. The goblin patrol, Harry could see, were laying in a row next to the water, their arms stacked at their feet. None of them were moving, or bound, which meant they were dead and beyond use.
Maybe…Harry thought, as he set the binoculars down and drew his Browning. Ginny picked up the binoculars from the branch he had set it on, and pointed it to where he had had it last. Harry, his mind working in overdrive, slide the receiver back on his pistol, and chambered a round. There were unknown number of hostiles, heavily armed with both muggle and magical weaponry, probably well trained to boot. Going by foot would take too long, by air they would be detected, which left them…
"Harry, what are you doing?" Ginny probably knew what he was going to do, but she doubtless wanted to hear it from him.
"What I'm obligated to do, Gin."
"We have a Firebolt, and your cloak can't we…?"
"No, they would see us coming using those damn scanners down there, and clip us like clay pigeons. Our only chance to get any warning to Dumbledore is…" Harry spent a couple of seconds outlining his plan. Since he lacked comms to the school (his Auror's communications set had been taken away from him as part of his suspension), it was a very risky one that Harry knew would require a bloody miracle to pull off without being costly to him, but if it bought some time for Bladvak and Dumbledore to secure the school then so be it.
Ginny though, didn't think so… "Harry, no, you don't have to do this! You're not obligated to do a damn thing, to risk your life for them ever since those ungrateful bastards took away your badge, your dignity and pride and let Malfoy have his way…" In the darkness Harry could see Ginny's eyes glisten as she ranted and raved. Ginny was a strong-willed woman, a fiery independent one who had nerves of steel, and Harry knew that that she cared enough about him, loved him, that him rolling the dice with Fate and her husband Death was quite a bit for her.
He placed a finger gently on her lips and shushed her. Taking her into his arms, he held her gently for a few heartbeats, and looked down into her brown eyes. Harry could tell she was worried, and felt himself wondering if what she was talking about made sense, that perhaps it would be better if…
No, you gave your word to defending this place, and if you're the only casualty then that is just savvy…
"Ginny, you know I have to do this…"
"No you don't, you fool! We can…"
"Ginny," Harry murmured quietly, and laid his eyes on her. Ginny by now, had tears going down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling in a ragged rhythm as she was sobbing.
It pained Harry's heart like none other to have to promise her something that those who faced death had promised before, and a promise which Harry knew he would be hard-pressed to keep…
"I promise you this though…" Harry paused, and gently kissed her on the forehead. She held on to him for a second, and then broke away rather violently. Harry held her firm, and looked into her eyes.
"You stubborn bastard, what?!" Ginny was still somewhat scared for him, perhaps a shade hysterical, but Harry could see the woman he loved shining in her., and slowly felt cracks develop in his resolve. When one has found heaven, how hard is it to turn your back on it, even defending whilst it?
"I'll come back, whatever the cost. I promise." With that he kissed her, a black feeling within him that this could be the very last time he would see Ginny ever again.
* * *
Harry kept his eyes, down, and tried to stop his teeth from chattering. Less then five meters away, he could hear the guttural Slavic tones of the vampires. Pressing his body against the cold, slick ground Hary inched his way forward, and hoped that this insane idea of his would work…
Ginny was hovering, on the Firebolt and under the cloak, just off shore and at sea level. She had proven her skills as a flier under hostile conditions in spades when she had taken him on a wild ride through the forest to insert Harry close to the enemy's area. Harry's plan was to inch in close enough from the outside range of the sensors to cause a major distraction, and while Harry was busy keeping the vampires occupied, Ginny would make a high-speed end run across the lake and to the castle. Once it looked like she could make it, Harry would then withdraw to the woods or the lake, whichever looked more opportune. There was one problem though: the whole success of the endeavor depended on speed, and shock, and Harry knew that he would have seconds to get in and out. Once he lost the momentum it was all over.
Harry looked up, and watched a vampire take a seat on a log near him. The bastard took out a cigarette, lit it, and started smoking. Harry felt himself grow more hopeful as the dumb shit before him smoking either meant the bastards were overconfident, or they really weren't that well-trained. From what he had seen, Harry was betting on the former, as it would have taken a damn good crew to take down some of Bladvak's goblins.
Game time, Harry thought to himself. The mud was cold and slick between his fingers as he slid the wand out of his pocket, and aimed it towards the general direction of the camp. The vampire in front of him ground out his cigarette after another one yelled at him. Odds were it was probably a corporal or sergeant telling him not to break light discipline. Harry knew that the moment he cast the spell, the clock was going to be ticking…
Don't think, just act. Let your training take over… Alex's words on his mind. "Pyria Petroleumus." A dull ball of gray light shot out from his wand, and dissipated over encampment, the smell of gasoline heavy in the air. The spell was similar to that that Harry used to lubricate locks, only this time the lubricant was very flammable oil. Harry rolled away, and lay still, breathing very slowly and trying not to stare at the vampire. The vampire in front of him had raised his weapon, an AKM and was scanning the area in front of him. Harry could hear the ominous sounds of rounds being chambered, weapons cocked, and safeties being flicked off. Blood-suckers were pointing their weapons in his direction as they knew someone was watching, just didn't know where exactly. They had yet to open fire, meaning that they still were banking on surprise, and avoiding detection by the security elements. Not to mention wasting ammunition.Now isn't that nice, Harry thought as he closed an eye, and pointed his wand towards the center of the encampment. Slowly, he raised himself to one knee and yelled out, "Pyreggina!" A fireball flew straight from his wand, and detonated where two vampires were standing near a small tent. Harry saw a flash, and felt a heat wave go over him as everything within five-foot radius of the center of the camp went up in flames. The two vampires were gone, no corpses remaining as the heat from the fireball coupled with the oil spell he had cast caused a raging inferno to occur. Horrendous screams from the various vampires rang through the air, along with the sounds of their ammunition cooking off in their web gear. The rancid smell of burnt hair times a billion over was heavy on his nostrils, threatening to make him puke. Harry shook his head as he drew his pistol, pulled the receiver back, and flicked off the safety. The blood-sucker in front of him had turned when the fireball had detonated, and had his back to him.
Harry shot him, squeezing the trigger twice and sending two rounds downrange at such velocity that when it impacted, Harry saw a fountain of liquid explode from the vampire's head. Brain shot, a kill. No one noticed, for pretty much everyone else was busy trying to fight the fires. Harry heard an explosion, and felt something whiz by his ear. Chaos and confusion was the order of the day, but it was obvious someone was sorting out this gangfuck right quick, and that meant now would be the most opportune, quite possibly only, time to make a break. Harry didn't want to draw anymore attention to himself, so he took cover behind the log, and crawled towards the water's edge. Using the vegetation near there, he could make a clean…
Harry stopped, as he heard something that he recognized in the vampire tongue, a word that he hoped he wouldn't hear. That what he was doing might be for nothing. It was the word for flying, and Harry heard the sounds of AKMs firing. Harry rose, and saw sure enough a small, but growing number of heavily armed people pointing at the sky and shooting wildly. Maybe the invisibility cloak had slipped; maybe their sensors were still working despite the recreation of Dante's inferno he had created, maybe…
All thought stopped as he rose, and sprinted to the nearest one. His left hand held his wand, wildly throwing stunners left and right. No time for complex operations, and too close to use some of the more nasty stuff he knew. The pistol in his right hand was for the close in work. Harry saw a vampire go down from a stunner, landing on his ass. The vampire went down to his back shortly thereafter, assisted by three nine millimeter hollow-point rounds. Harry saw movement far to his right, and shot a detonation curse in the general direction. Still moving, he headed to another that was raising his weapon in the air. Before he knew it, he was there up next to him, close enough that when he fired he felt the spray of blood and viscera against him. Yet that didn't bother him, for inwardly, he was praying…
Please let them come for me, and not her. Not her…
Harry felt something fly past his ear, and heard the sounds of gunfire. They were bringing him under fire, and despite the fact he was in the open, the rounds were going around him. Who knew why, but Harry didn't stick around long to find out as the hoary old line was that it was the round not aimed at you that wound up getting you at the end. It was fortunate that the fire, while raging in areas, had avoided some as Harry dove behind a group of boxes filled with God knew what. From there, Harry crawled behind them, and lay on his belly. Taking a quick peek, he saw that most of the vampires were busy putting out fires, and trying to save some of their fellows' lives. Fire was a deadly mistress to vampires…
Harry spotted a group of four armed blood-suckers moving towards where he had dove, firing from the hip, trying to flank him. Their backs were to him, and Harry took the opportunity presented. Jumping to his feet, Harry ran forward, firing. Two of the four went down with rounds in their heads, Harry having long mastered the art of putting bullets where he wanted them to go. One of the remaining vampires was close enough to him that he didn't bother trying to shoot Harry, merely swinging his rifle around to butt-stroke him. Harry didn't accept that at all, stepped forward, put the muzzle against the forehead of the vampire, and put a bullet in his skull without a second thought. Harry swung as soon as he pulled the trigger towards the final vampire, aimed, and fired…
This time there was only a click, meaning he was out of ammunition. During the fight, Harry had lost count of the rounds he was firing, and at the close quarters he was at there was no time to do a stoppage drill as the other was almost as close as the one he had just put down. Pointing his wand, he fired a stunner, and saw the man fly head over heels backwards. Raising his right hand, he used his thumb to release the magazine, and was using his wand hand to put in a fresh magazine when he felt something slam into the joint between his arm and shoulder. Grunting, he dropped his pistol as he felt his whole limb go numb as he fell to a knee. This was fortunate, for another blow came close enough to his head that he felt the air breeze by him. Harry looked up, and saw that a vampire, one who had been fighting a fire earlier and had a fireman's axe in hand, had stopped building a firebreak and had turned his attentions to him. The blow had come from the axe handle after the head had been removed.
Harry should have taken the time to count himself lucky, as the average vampire had the strength to punch a hole right through him. Instead, still on the ground, he slid out his baton from his belt and flicked his wrist. Twenty four inches of telescoping steel with a lead core slid out, and blocked a blow from the axe handle as it rained down towards him. Harry's left arm was braced by his right hand, but it still felt numb with shock as the force of the blow reverberated up and down his limbs. The vampire grunted, and pulled back for another blow, but Harry wasn't going to have none of it. Even before the assorted scum of Liverpool, Manchester, Aberdeen, and the East End had shown him the tricks; Harry had to learn to fight as a kid hard, dirty, and viciously to stand an even chance. This was why he quickly brought his baton back, and rapped it hard enough to break bone on the man's knee.
There was a sick crunch, and the vampire went down with a cry. Harry rose to his feet, and smashed his foot down on the vampire's face. It felt like he was kicking a football, and Harry brought it back again. Another crunch, and this time the vampire stopped moving as Harry had kicked his face. Literally, for here the blow had driven a sliver of bone through the brain like a hot blade through butter, as vampires had brains that were as vulnerable as that of men. That and a certain gland below the heart were two areas he had been taught in Defense against the Dark Arts to go for. In the words of Doc Detidedeux, 'killing is our business, and business is good.'
Harry was breathing hard, and looked up. The blood suckers had forgotten about Ginny, and were coming after him, a lot of them. Numbers didn't faze him, what scared him was the fact was that all were carrying axe handles, batons, and bayonets. This meant somebody wanted him alive, and that was a possibility he didn't want to face. He turned, and was about to run when he saw more of the bastards were behind him. Left flank was a wall of fire, right flank were more vampires. The only option: forward. Harry scowled, and roared, his blood pumping, not feeling the aches and pains, the cold of his wet clothes in the damp weather, or the way the sweat ran down his ears along the legs of his glasses, or through his eyebrows to sting his eyes. A war cry, and a wild screaming charge towards the lake, for there was escape.
A few vampires were surprised, and went down as Harry smashed one down in the face, and brought it down against the skull of another before they moved in. Harry dropped his baton and wand, falling to his knees as an axe handle smashed between his shoulder blades. Stars flew in his eyes as something, Harry thought it must have been a rubber-coated baton, smacked him the back of his head. Hands grabbed his arms, and yanked them back behind him. A boot slammed him down into the ground, and weight in the form of a knee pressed him into the ground. Both arms were pulled in front of him as four guys held him down, for what he didn't know as his face was smeared into the mud. Harry looked up, and saw the hostile, staring at him, and knew that if he survived it would be a bloody miracle.
Where the fuck are Bladvak's lads? Surely they've…
That train of thought came to an end for he noticed that the majority of the vampires were armed with blunt weaponry, there were a few standing near him armed with AKMs standing near him. It took him only a second to see one vampire, a tall, clean cut fellow with black watching the skies, and raise a bolt-action rifle. Harry recognized it as he lay there as Mosin-Nagant, an old school sniper rifle. Before, when it was just AKs being fired, there was a chance of Ginny getting hit, but not as bad as now. Harry's guts felt cold, his mind screaming no for he knew what he loved and held dear could go…
Before he knew it, there was a row of stunned vampires surrounding him, he was on his feet, the Fairbairn he carried in his fingertips. Harry needed only a second to gauge distance as he threw it, and watched the vampire scream as the blade slashed across his face. It was then he doubled over, and vomited, totally drained. It had been the first time he had cast an offensive spell, and it had taken its toll on him. The spell also must have been weak, for he groaned and fell on his face as something slammed into his kidneys. Blood-suckers, were lighting into him, giving him a good kicking. Harry curled into a ball, and protected his specs. God knew where his weaponry was now as the blows rained down. The beating stopped as they once again had him on the ground, this bringing his arms back as another guy sat down on his back, another drilling the muzzle of an AKM into his skull. Harry wasn't going to do anything now, and took the time to look at the sky, and towards the sky.
Illumination flares, starburst shell, parachute flares were in the air, turning night into day, the security measures of the school being put into use. Harry saw Ginny fly the last few yards, and disappear over the castle wall. A smile creased his face, and looked up. The harsh, pasty Slavic face of the vampire with the rifle looked down at him with hate-filled eyes. Harry could sympathize if he had lost friends, but now all he could do was go against everything he had been taught of being held a prisoner. Defiance settled into his bones, and must have shown in his eyes as the vampire spoke something in Russian, and brought his foot back. Harry didn't close his eyes, only tilted his head slightly as he saw the Crycllic characters on the sole of the man's boot come at him like a wall, and then only darkness.