Chapter 16

The Long Path

The mass of students continued to make their way through the dusty hall. Parts of the ancient ceiling began to break, and fall onto the bobbing heads, that came together in this time of need. There were no words, no whispers, only a sense of fear and great urgency. A great urgency was needed in this time. In all of them, it was there.

Harry's mind was no longer parallel to the rest of his class. It was racing at a speed he'd never thought it could reach. The games had officially ended. And the war had seen its first battle, whether it was bound to be deadly was still an awaited outcome.

The hall seemed to go on for ages, and was a continuous straight line. After of all the years of staring at that magical map given to him by Fred and George, he'd never seen this escape. An escape it was indeed, Harry imagined. Its pure purpose must have been for this very reason, to get students out in dire situations of need.

"Hagrid," Harry began. His words, although softly spoken, traveled far over the silent march. "Do you know where this leads to."

"To be 'onest with ya 'arry," he spoke slowly, and with caution. His mind must have been racing too. "I 'ave no idea."

With those words, Harry continued to walk. He was side my side with his enormous friend. Behind him were Hermione and Ron, and Neville close to them, awaiting another discovery of tricky plants, he presumed. And behind them were the seven years of Hogwarts, so longer walking ahead or behind one another in the classroom, they all walked together.

Harry began to wonder on the topic of the school. It will no doubt be weakened greatly by this attack, whatever the outcome may be. Parents would be filled with worry upon hearing the destructions, students would be called to go home, and Hogwarts would no longer remain the safe haven it always has been. Although, they all knew it'd become vulnerable the day Dumbledore left. He'd deserted them.

In his pondering, Harry's eyes had drifted to there rising dust on the floor. He no longer expected to see a turn in the path, just a straight forward march.

"Stop," Hagrid said strongly, but softly. The students heard him, and in unison, followed orders. No body bumped into another, they were now standing still. Both there feet and minds were filled with exhaustion.

Harry took himself out of his process of thought, and looked to Hagrid. Hagrid's face was dead set, and his eyes made no movement from whatever was in front of him. He was a dog ready to pounce if needed.

Harry looked forward. There was no longer an extended hallway, but an average sized wooden door in their path. On it's dirty steps, was a figure draped over the uneven ground. Breathing, and still alive, it seemed to be sleeping.

"Please tell me-" Hagrid began.

"S'you are right," she spoke, and her body stirred to sit up. "There is no need f'ar fear in s'your eyes, dear friend."

Aradia rose in front of them. A tall figure, her black cloak hung around her. She looked to be the walking dead, and Harry was sure that's what many people figured her to be. Her hair was no longer pristine, but disheveled in curls that hung past her waist. She was too ancient a figure to breath, and live in front of them. All of these contradicting measures forced Harry to believe Hermione's assumption, but he still could not bring himself to it.

Hagrid and Aradia walked closer to each other. "I understand if ya can't tell m now, but," Hagrid spoke.

"It's over," she said with great certainty. "Much destruction 'as come to z'he hall, but this can all be fee'xed. Do not worry, s'your Hogwarts is fine."

With these last words, she began to walk up the steps, and with her back to the door, she grasped it's handle and pushed forward. Harry's eyes shut themselves against the great light that protruded from the room, and then opened immediately, hoping not be caught off guard.

"Thank Dumbledore!" Hagrid spoke aloud, walking up the steps, and into Harry's view of seeing their new path. As Hagrid pushed his way through the door, Harry followed close behind him, doing his best not to catch Aradia's eye. He still held the sword of Godric in his hand, limp at his side.

He stepped away from his traveled path, and looked at their new road. But there ws no road, only a familiar site changed.

"All is well, in s'your school," Aradia spoke, treading on Harry's footsteps. "For now."

It was the Great Hall. They'd walked out of the same door from which they'd entered, and into what remained of their once festive room. Banners were torn, and hanging uneven from walls. Tables were over turned, and plates were scattered over the floor. The distant feeling of home no longer sat in the bottomless pit of his stomach.

"I'll take dat back now," Aradia spoke, and Harry turned to face him. Her hand was outstretched before him, her long fingers awaiting a metal grasp. Harry placed the sword's handle in her palm, while they both bore into each other's sight. Her eyes were hard to read, but full of detail. They were the black hole to her enemy's worst nightmare. Whoever that enemy might be.

"Thank s'you," she replied. With that, she shoved the sword into her cloak, and it quickly disappeared. "I v'want s'you to come to my classroom, at four after midnight. Do not be frightened in d'eese halls for now. They are safe."

Harry watched her walk away, her cloak swinging behind her, and th tap of her boots echoing among the silent expressions of joy the students made while entering their school. Harry was quickly joined by Hermione and Ron, there was a tired expression on both their faces.

"To think," Hermione began. "We could have done something to stop this."