Disclaimer: How to explain? How to describe? Even the omniscient viewpoint quails at JK Rowling.
A/N: Chapter 23 is probably more than half done. I've been very busy, but I'm hoping to finish it this week and then work ahead over the holidays. I hope you enjoy the final phase of the battle.
Chapter 22: The Battle of Britain, Part III
A deep, gong-like sound resounded throughout Hogwarts Castle. All of the students had an automatic, almost instinctive impulse to stop and listen, but to Harry and Hermione, and a number of the other muggle-borns, it had a personal association.
The two siblings stared at each other in shock. "The Cloister Bell!" they said in unison.
The Doctor Who film they had seen just a few weeks ago hadn't mentioned the Cloister Bell by name, but it had made use of the Cloister Room, and they had heard the bell clearly, it's ominous tones coming through. Now, those same tones echoed through the castle.
That was definitely a bad sign.
Neville looked at them confusedly, but Luna looked shaken, her silver eyes wider than usual. She must have recognised it too.
Then, Dumbledore's voice thundered throughout the school with an equally ominous tone they had never felt from him before: "Evacuate the castle! Hogwarts is no longer safe. Prefects, ensure all students are accounted for. Older students, protect the younger. Leave now; take only what you can carry, and flee north along the river. We will arrange transport to a safe location."
Now, Neville looked perhaps the most horrified of all of them. "We're abandoning the castle?" he said. "Hogwarts?"
Harry waved his hand around vaguely: "Look at it. We're not going to hold it through the night, not like this. We have to help the younger students."
Neville recovered and set his resolve as he looked to Hermione and saw she was as determined as her brother was. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. "Alright, let's go," he said.
Albus Dumbledore flashed into his study with the aid of Fawkes and immediately began waving his wand. There was no time to do this lovingly, by hand, as he would prefer to do. A multi-compartment trunk flew down from his quarters above and opened up. Into the first compartment flew his Pensieve and racks of stored memories. Into the second, his most essential books—the ones that could not be replaced, or that could not be allowed to fall into enemy hands. The third held the most essential of his special instruments, the Sword of Gryffindor, and other odds and ends. And into the last went Fawkes's perch, a sadly limited selection of robes, and general toiletries. The whole process took less than two minutes.
"This is outrageous!" Phineas Nigellus Black ranted as he packed. "Abandon Hogwarts to some upstart? I never would have allowed it."
"You would have done what was necessary for the protection of the students if you were worthy of this office, Phineas," Dumbledore said. He applied his magic to command the portrait and said, "I do not have time for a debate. Go to Sirius, now. Tell him and the Grangers that Hogwarts is being evacuated, and they must flee the country."
Phineas turned to go, but the other Heads of Hogwarts were still looking down at him with a mixture of despair and indignation. "Two wars I've seen you through, Albus, and it has come to this," Armando Dippet said. "It is a sad day for Hogwarts."
"Undoubtedly, Armando," Dumbledore agreed. "I had hoped I would never see the day when Hogwarts fell, but alas, our division has finally brought about our doom. The corruption has come from within. I thank all of you for your advice over the years," he told the assembled portraits, "and I hope you will do whatever you can to weather the coming darkness. You have all served Hogwarts well."
He cast the spells that would seal the room from all but the rightful Headmaster, so that no harm could come of anything he had left. Lastly of all, Dumbledore picked the Sorting Hat up off of its shelf and held it in his hands. "Well, this is it, old friend," he said.
"I am truly sorry, Albus," the Hat replied. "Perhaps it would be better if you left me behind."
Even to the Hat's old, ethereal eyes, Dumbledore appeared genuinely shocked by the suggestion. "I could never do that," he said.
"I can't help but feel responsible for this," it insisted. "All those years dividing the students from one another, feeding the worst tendencies of each House by combining like with like before they're grown, my warnings going unheeded year after year. I never make a mistake, Albus, but I begin to wonder if I am the mistake."
But Dumbledore didn't put the Hat down. He turned to survey his office once more and then looked down at it. "You have only ever done your duty to this school, my friend," he said. "If even good Helga approved of the houses, they cannot be beyond hope. Come, and we will begin anew, just like Fawkes." At this, he raised his arm, and Fawkes flashed to it, carrying him and his truck back to the grounds to oversee the evacuation.
"Harry, we can't leave yet!" Luna called.
Harry stopped so suddenly he nearly tripped. He and Hermione had prepared earlier in the day. Now, they were leaving with the rest of the school, bags slung on their backs and Harry with his Firebolt on his other shoulder, since their trunks were to large to carry. Luna seemed to have done something similar with a bed sheet. A flood of students were running for the exits around them. "Luna, we have to go!" he said. "You heard Dumbledore, and they're coming for us especially."
"I know, Harry," she said. "The Cloister Bell said it all."
"Er…"
"Hogwarts is going to fall tonight. And 'London will fall.' That's what Cho said."
"Right—"
"But if London falls and Hogwarts falls, there will be no one left in Britain to stand against Voldemort. No one to protect the muggle-borns from him."
Harry briefly glanced at Hermione. "Yeah, that's why we're all getting out now."
He grabbed Luna's arm and tried to pull her along, but she stood her ground and said, "And what about next year's class?"
Harry and Hermione both stopped dead. They turned and stared at her.
"The younger children, Harry. Hogwarts is the only place where the names of muggle-borns who are under eleven are recorded."
"The Book of Admittance," Hermione gasped.
Luna nodded. "The Death Eaters have already shown they don't mind killing enough muggles to get noticed by them. If they get the Book…"
Harry almost growled. "We can't let that happen."
"But that book's never been taken from its tower," Hermione said worriedly, "and no student's ever been in there "Hogwarts, A History says so. I'm not even sure where it is. We'll need to find Professor Flit—Professor Sprout or Sinistra." They didn't want to admit that they didn't know whether Flitwick had made it out.
"I know where it is," Luna said. "We have our own stories in Ravenclaw. It's in the East Wing, though. Harry, can we take your broom?"
Harry looked to Hermione questioningly.
"You can't just do it yourselves, Harry!" she protested.
He looked back at Luna one more time and saw how earnest she looked. "I trust Luna, sis." He unslung his bag from his back. "Can you…?"
Hermione sighed and looked around. They were running out of time. The floor was clearing out already; even the paintings were running for it. "Go on. Neville and I will think of something."
Molly Weasley was in a panic as she hurried through the Burrow, trying to pack everything her family would need in a battered enchanted trunk. It wasn't that much with only her and Arthur in the house at the moment, but that only made it more frightening with their children scattered all over the place.
She'd nearly fainted when all nine hands on the family clock swung around to Mortal Peril that afternoon. She'd just had the wherewithal to use the turnkey to adjust the sensitivity. She couldn't imagine how Charlie could be in danger all the way in Romania, so she'd turned it down until his hand moved away. The clock would be nearly useless if it just pointed to Mortal Peril all the time, after all. It just hadn't been changed since the peaceful period after the last war.
But it only panicked her more when, after Charlie's hand sprang back to Work, her own sprang back to Home while the others all stayed on Mortal Peril. Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny were all at Hogwarts. How could they be in more danger than she was? Then, with Arthur and Percy at the Ministry and Bill doing Merlin knew what, the whole family really was in trouble.
She'd tried to get in touch with members of the Order of the Phoenix to find out news, but she hadn't heard much. Sirius Black said Harry Potter was getting nervous, which was a bad sign, but no other news came until her own hand on the clock jumped to Mortal Peril again, shortly before Arthur's Patronus came told her the Ministry had fallen, and that she needed to get out of the country!
So she started packing, but even if the worst happened, Hogwarts should still be safe. She couldn't understand it, but with the Ministry gone, she could tell Arthur had judged the Burrow wouldn't be safe for long.
"One crisis at a time," she muttered to herself as she checked the house one more time and hurried out the door. "One crisis at a time. Oh, please be alright, all of you."
In a less than savoury section of Canterbury, a young couple in odd, but shabby dress ran through a muggle train station, frantically trying to escape their pursuers. Neither they nor their attackers were using magic right now. Even in the fading daylight, there were enough muggles about to worry about. But that probably wouldn't last for long. The Death Eaters had been getting bolder all year.
"Gabe, what—were they doing—on the bloody Knight Bus?" Ellen Towler gasped.
"Damned—if I know!" Gabriel Truman said.
"How did they—follow us?"
"Just run!"
They could hear the commotion behind them. The Death Eaters weren't wearing masks now, but they still had their black robes, and two men in black robes chasing a young couple through a train station, knocking aside anyone who got in their way, would certainly attract attention. There might be bobbies wading into the chase already, not that it would help. They had to get on that train.
Ellen and Gabe had stayed together after Greyback's attack at school. At first, even with the new laws and Cor Humanum, it had been hard to make ends meet as werewolves, and they had a solidarity with each other, which no one else they knew had. Eventually, it became something more.
Two years later, and their personal situation had improved, but the country had only grown worse. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. The Death Eaters were loose, and so was Fenrir Greyback. He'd come calling to them twice in the past year, but luckily not at their flat, and it seemed he'd moved on to other targets now. Small comfort.
Now, it was the worst news of all: Hogwarts. The two werewolves had got the Patronus message from Remus Lupin and hurried to pack. However, any international travel had to run through Dover if the Ministry wasn't secure, as Lupin suspected. There was no time to take a plane. But neither of them had ever been to Dover to Apparate there, so they had summoned the Knight Bus.
They'd been greeted at the door by a man in Death Eater robes.
They blasted him as hard as they could and started running. They certainly didn't try to take over the bus; there were probably more on there. They didn't wait, though. As soon as they were out of sight, they Apparated as close to Dover as either of them knew and started looking for a train station.
By the time they'd found one, the Death Eaters had caught up with them. Now, their only hope was to board the train to Paris and leave them behind. Either get off at Dover and fight their way to the Portkey crossing, or stay on to Paris and hope the Death Eaters would be more reticent to cross international borders openly.
There was a loud bang of something falling and a scream behind them, frighteningly close, followed by a loud cry of, "Stop! Police!"
Ellen started to slow, raising her wand, but Gabe said, "No, hurry! Don't cast—until they do—save time!"
The duelling wasn't long in coming all the same.
It hadn't mattered that much that Harry and Hermione had called Sirius instead of their parents (though in fact, they hadn't needed to because of Phineas Nigellus); everyone would know soon enough either way, but they hadn't wanted to alarm their parents unnecessarily.
Sirius didn't share that philosophy.
"Up! Up! It's time to go!" he said, rousing them from their uneasy wait in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place. "The Ministry's toast, and they're evacuating Hogwarts! Voldemort's taking over!"
Emma gasped and shot to her feet. "They're evacuating Hogwarts?"
"Yeah. Sorry I don't have details, but I don't trust this place to hold if the Ministry's gone. We have to get out while the getting's good. I just sent Patronuses to Vicky and Andromeda. It's a good thing you're packed already. There's not much time."
Dan and Emma were already gathering their things while Sirius waited impatiently. They were packed, but they didn't feel prepared for this. "You said Hogwarts could stand up to a siege," Dan said.
"I know, I know. I don't know what happened. The fighting must be worse than I thought. And with no reinforcements…"
"But what about the kids? Will they be alright?" said Emma.
"They'll be fine. They're with Dumbledore. We have to go now. The Death Eaters'll kill us if they see us."
"Ragnok, I'm calling in that favour," said Bill Weasley.
"What favour, Weasley?" Bill's boss demanded.
"The one you owe me for telling you batten down the hatches because the Ministry is falling to Voldemort. Right now."
Ragnok glared at him: "That's not a favour, Weasley. You're obligated to tell us things like that."
"Sorry, did I say the Ministry? I meant the Ministry and Hogwarts. And that Hogwarts is being invaded from Durmstrang. And that Dumbledore himself is fleeing to France as we speak."
Ragnok's eyes widened. Details like that were not things wizards were willing to tell their own people unless they had to, let alone the goblins. "Well, that does change the calculus, doesn't it? What do you want, Weasley?"
"A transfer to the Paris branch, obviously."
Ragnok growled softly. He wasn't sure he wanted to let one of their most useful wizards go that easily. But then again, Weasley was most useful when he was out in the field. "We reserve the right to send you back out abroad."
"Half time; no more," Bill insisted. "And that's after holidays."
"And you'll keep us up to date on your war effort."
"Deal."
Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody was already in motion before the Patronus message had finished speaking. Being Mad-Eye Moody, he had the essentials packed in a safe place, plus another set in a different safe place in case he couldn't get to the first one. And a fake set in the first place a Death Eater would be likely to look with some nasty traps inside. And that was just what he was willing to tell other people. He grabbed his first set and Apparated directly from his front entryway, setting the wards to their highest setting behind him.
It could still be a trick, he knew. It would take a lot of doing to enchant a fake Patronus that could fool him, but he was still going to be vigilant about it. He wasn't going to do what Dumbledore's Patronus had told him, even if it was real. Mad-Eye knew out-of-the-way Apparition spots up and down the country, and he'd been careful over the years to maintain a relationship with the little Danish wizard who manned the desk in the Faroe Islands for the three or four families who lived up there. By which he meant digging up dirt on him and telling him to look the other way if Mad-Eye even had to come through there on an urgent errand.
He'd meet Dumbledore in France in the morning, after he was sure what was what.
"Flee the bloody country," Aberforth Dumbledore muttered. "As if. Ninety-seven years, and he still thinks I can't take care of myself. Who would take care of the goats, then? Who would mind the pub? Besides, I can call in enough favours to survive even the 'Dark Lord's' regime."
He took a deep breath to calm himself and drew his wand. He cast a Patronus to send to his brother and tell him where he could shove it. Then, he went back to cleaning the glasses. This job wasn't easy, after all. It took real skill to make them look so dusty and dirty that they weren't fit for human use while actually being perfectly safe to drink from.
It was all part of the atmosphere. A place had to look dirty before people were willing to do dirty dealings there.
Portraits were fleeing from their frames in an imitation of the efforts to get away as the tide of students rushed down the stairs and up from the basements and burst out the Clock Tower doors. The thunder on the stairs was deafening, with trunks and pet cages banging along in spite of Dumbledore's instructions. The teachers hurried alongside the students, trying to made sure no one got hurt, but at the same time hexing aside any enemy who got in their way, be they Durmstrang or Hogwarts. Not since Peeves's rampage of 1876 had Hogwarts Castle emptied so violently.
Dumbledore himself had flashed to the Clock Tower courtyard to see the students out and protect them from any stray enemies. He kept a close eye on the covered bridge, making sure it remained standing. And he was also waiting for the last of the defenders to come down from the battlements. He himself had to reluctantly stun a couple of his own students who had turned against the school.
And among the fleeing teachers and students, he did not see Harry Potter. That concerned him. It was possible that the boy had come out in cat form, and Albus had simply missed him. Yet it was equally likely that Harry had stayed behind in the castle, doubtless for a very good reason, but it was growing more dangerous by the minute, and if the boy fell, God forbid…Well, the war could still be won, of course. Prophecy was hardly unassailable, as powerful as it seemed now, but the loss to morale would be devastating, not to mention how Albus himself cared for the boy.
Balls of fire arced up and over the castle like muggle rockets, falling down on the training grounds with the force of bombs. There was a tremendous hooting and flapping noise from the Owlery as the birds' preternatural sense of danger made them flee their roosts moments before a fireball hit the base of the tower. The foundation of the tower cracked, and the Owlery began to lean. Fortunately, it was leaning away from the path the students needed to take, but the risk to the covered bridge or anyone on the path upriver was palpable.
No, there was nothing for it. He personally couldn't wait for Harry any longer. They would have to divide their forces. "Teachers!" he called. "Hold the bridge until the school is emptied. I will protect the students on the path. Edward, hold Ngeze off as long as you can. We must get the children out." He didn't wait for an answer as he turned and ran after the students.
"If we survive this night, you owe me, Albus!" Grayson screamed after him, but he took off running toward down the side of the castle hill, using his songline magic to glide over the rocky slope toward the Lake.
Professor Flitwick, looking cartoonishly covered in soot for some reason, hair blown back, along with Professors Babbling and Lupin, stood at the entrance to the covered bridge, watchful to keep it upright as the students streamed past them. Albus joined the stream, pushing ahead where he could. Upon exiting the bridge, they spread out, and he had room to run ahead, calling upon his magic to press on where his body alone would struggle to keep up. It was a very difficult technique, but it got him to the middle of the pack.
There was a tremendous boom, and even Albus halted and looked up in awe with the students around him. He turned just in time to see the top of the Astronomy Tower blown off, raining debris on the grounds below.
No time to contemplate it. He had to hope that wherever Harry and his friends were, they were getting to safety like the rest of the school.
Flying across to the East Wing was easy, Harry noted, even to the correct tower Luna pointed out. Dodging the balls of fire that began falling from the sky was a bit less so, but the real trouble was getting into the tower itself. It was locked, with only the Headmaster and Deputy Head normally able to get in. Luna was doing…something, but it was hard to tell if it was having any effect.
"We can't stay for long, Luna," he urged her. "If one of those things hits this tower…"
She briefly looked up through the window. "I don't think they will," she said. "The fireballs are going over the school. Voldemort will want the castle intact. Ah, I've got it!"
The door opened. Harry still didn't know what she'd done, but they ran up the stairs and into the uppermost room above the Grand Gallery. There on a weathered table sat a large book bound in dragon hide—as large as a Gutenberg Bible and seeming to contain too many pages. Its parchment was yellowed, but it looked to be in better condition than he'd have thought after a thousand years. Next to it, a large, green-black quill sat in an empty inkwell. Both were still, but Harry could feel a sense of power from them. It was the same kind of power that infused the now-shattered wards. It made him hesitant to touch them for reasons he didn't fully understand.
"They've never been touched by human hands since they were laid here," Luna said softly.
"Is it safe?" Harry asked.
"It should be. Hogwarts protects her own."
BOOM!
Harry looked up at the noise, pinpointing the direction. "That was the Astronomy Tower!" he said. "We need to hurry!"
"Okay, I'll try," Luna said. She reached out and laid her hand on the book. Harry flinched, ready to pull her away if something bad happened. Not being touched for a thousand years, it could fall apart. It could have a dangerous magical static charge built up. It could attack her. But nothing happened. She ran her fingers over it, sliding her hand to one edge, then placed her other hand on the opposite edge. She tried to get her fingers underneath it, to slide it off the table, but it wouldn't budge, sitting as stoically as ever.
She pulled her hands away and tried to close the book. It closed, but it still wouldn't move from its place. "Please," she whispered, caressing the dragon skin as if it were a real animal. "This place isn't safe."
Harry watched, wanting to say something, but he didn't know what he could add. He knew a fair number of Hogwarts' secrets, but he didn't know how to talk to it—not like Luna seemed to.
"You've supported and protected your students all this time," she continued, "but you can't anymore—not with the people who are going to be in charge—not from here."
Luna flinched drawing back as if someone were shouting at her or threatening her, but she kept her hands on the book. Harry grabbed her by the shoulder, ready to pull her away, but she shrugged him off. She spoke more forcefully now. "This book is the Spirit of Hogwarts," she said. "It's not the castle or the Headmaster or even the Sorting Hat. It's the promise to teach everyone who comes to her, no matter who they are. The people who are outside these walls will pervert that promise and turn it to evil, but we can take that chance away from them. As long as this book is safe, so is that promise…As long as this book is safe, Hogwarts lives on."
Harry felt a tingling sensation pass through the room. It seemed unremarkable in context, but Luna relaxed at once. She closed her eyes and sighed happily. "Thank you, Helga," she said. Then, she picked up the book from the table and cradled it in her arms. The quill leapt from its inkwell and slipped between its pages.
She turned around: "Alright, let's go."
"Whoa, that was some Deep Magic, Luna," he said as they hurried down the stairs. "I'm not even sure what happened."
"I can tell you, but we should get out of the castle first," she said. She pecked him on the lips, and they mounted his broom to fly to safety.
Unfortunately, as soon as they flew out of the tower, there were other fliers on their tail.
Edward Grayson stood astride two rocks at the mouth of the ravine, looking out at the Durmstrang fleet. Kinani Ngeze glared at him from the deck of the lead ship. He looked the same as he ever did, a giant of a man covered in tattoos that somehow stood out even against his dark skin. Edward knew this was the rematch he wanted, and yet not, because Dumbledore wasn't here. That was sure to anger the dark mage.
"Great Wonambi guide my hands," Edward sung under his breath. "Raise the waters and overturn the enemy. Protect the children of this place, and bring low those who would harm them."
It wasn't the first time he'd tried the spell tonight, though he improvised small changes each time. This time, though, not having to protect the castle, he was able to focus it specifically on Ngeze's ship. A rainbow of light streaked under the water from his feet, and the waves built up under the ship, rocking it side to side harder and harder until Ngeze was all but knocked off his feet, and the ship threatened to capsize.
One of Ngeze's tattoos glowed—one that Edward recognised: the Lightning Bird. As quick as he could, he raised up pillars of water between them to absorb the lightning strikes. But Australian magic was familiar with lightning, too. His next attack created a bridge of lightning between them, cracking and roaring with a sound like a swarm of locusts the size of horses. Each of them tried to push the lightning to strike the other until it grew too unstable and stabbed down into the water.
Ngeze used another of his tattoos, one he hadn't used in Rwanda. This one showed a long prehistoric neck that extended up his right arm to the back of his hand. Edward was pretty sure some of those tattoos were overlapping, yet it still worked. A saurian head and neck made of water loomed up out of the water like the Loch Ness Kelpie. The Mokele-mbembe was a plant-eater, but that didn't stop the construct from grabbing his shoulder with peg-like teeth as hard as stone and toss him into the air. A bit of wind manipulation severed the water neck and set him back on his feet.
Except that he landed in the water.
"Harkwhenthenightisfalling. Hearhearthepipesarecalling—"
Edward sang "Scotland the Brave" as fast as he could and entered the Songline that allowed him to run on the water. He could fight from in the water, but he by no means wanted to try. He ran at Ngeze's ship. He couldn't strike with the force of his speed, but he could grab onto the hull before he sank and leap onto the deck. With his next spell, he animated the rigging and made it attack Ngeze. The rest of the deckhands fled to the far end of the ship, some jumping overboard, but a couple of them were caught up in it.
Ngeze used a tattoo of a leopard to give himself spectral claws that he used to swipe and sever the rigging that attacked him. He chanted in several different languages, and some of the severed ropes transformed into cobras, which slithered toward Edward. Laying down a line of fire to stop them was practically a cantrip to him, but a moment later, he cursed his mistake when they turned out to be spitting cobras. He barely got his arm up in time to block the venom with his robes and Scourgified them with a wave of his hand.
At least he was doing what Dumbledore wanted, he reflected as he began singing another spell: keeping Ngeze occupied. He only hoped Dumbledore would be able to come out and relieve him soon.
Albus Dumbledore heard a sound of thunder coming from the Lake, but he didn't have time to figure out what was happening out there. He walked with the tail end of the long line of students. The stragglers were just exiting the covered bridge and what he hoped would be the most dangerous part of the evacuation—though that was an uncertain thing; parts of the Forbidden Forest were burning from the fireballs.
They could leave the bridge to fall once everyone was out, but he knew there were still some missing. Or, he thought sadly, killed in the fighting. The Heads of House and prefects were meant to do a head count, but doing an accurate one was a hopeless proposition at this point.
Just as he was contemplating whether it was too late to expect any others, Professor Vector hurried up to him. "Headmaster, we have a problem," she said. "Some of the Slytherins won't leave. Including some who weren't fighting. They say the Death Eaters will leave them be. I can't reason with them, and I still can't find Severus."
"Severus will not be coming, Septima," Dumbledore said without breaking his stride. "And I'm afraid if anyone does not wish to come with us, all we can do is warn them."
"I'm missing a couple too, Albus," Professor Sprout said as she joined them. "I'm ashamed to say some of them were standing with the Death Eaters."
"Alas, even the Gryffindors were not immune," he replied. "I don't think we can do anything for those who wish to remain, but I still cannot find Mr. Potter."
Filius joined them too. "I saw Granger and Longbottom, but I'm missing Lovegood," he said.
"Just a moment. Is that them?" Pomona said, pointed at the forest.
All of their eyebrows were raised as, silhouetted against the flames in the darkening night, two figures on a broomstick flew across the grounds. Filius had the wherewithal to throw up a low spray of sparks, and they turned toward them. Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood stopped in midair in front of the teachers, and Albus's eyes widened when he saw the book young Luna was holding in her arms. He hadn't hoped to try to remove it from its place himself. He almost could have laughed.
"There you guys are!" Harry said as if they were the ones holding things up. "First we had to escape the Durmstrang Quidditch Team, and then we couldn't find you! What's the plan? Where are we going?"
Albus collected himself. "Everyone who is leaving Hogwarts is out, Harry. Please rejoin your sister. I will may a way out of the area presently."
"If you say so, sir," Harry said sceptically, and they sped off.
"Albus, was that book—?" Filius started.
"It was indeed, Filius. Hogwarts owes Miss Lovegood a great debt. But let us hurry."
They sped up their pace, leaving Filius behind as rear guard and the rest moving ahead to the middle of the pack.
"Albus!" Remus Lupin called as they approached, running from the head of the line. "We've got another problem. A lot of the students want to go down to Hogsmeade, especially the ones who live there. You said Hogsmeade won't be safe."
Albus frowned: "I did, and it won't. I have it from a reliable source that no refuge will be found in Britain."
"We can't keep them from their families, Albus," Pomona protested. "Not when Hogwarts is…"
She couldn't finish, but he could guess what she meant. He had another difficult choice to make. So many would be left behind. But it might already be too late. A quick Supersensory Charm, and before the glare blinded him, he could make out the situation. Many of the students had fled up the river as they were told, but a fair number had crossed the bridge on the path that eventually led to Hogsmeade. They couldn't round them up, not now when the students who were staying with their teachers weren't out of the proverbial woods yet. Even sending a message to all of them would be risky, as the enemy would hear, but there was little choice.
"Sonorous," he said, and his voice boomed out across the grounds: "Hear me, students of Hogwarts! Hogwarts has fallen to the forces of Lord Voldemort. Some of you have chosen to stay behind. In this, I cannot stop you; you have made your allegiance clear. I know many you wish to go home. You're loyalty is admirable, and I will not stop anyone from seeking their families in Hogsmeade or elsewhere, but know that it will not be free from Lord Voldemort's servants, and those whom he counts his enemies will find no refuge there.
"While we fighting at Hogwarts, the Ministry has fallen. The only safety this night will be to flee the country. All of you who would do so, follow the river to the edge of the wards. It is the safest way. Prefects, keep to your charges until they are safe. I and the other teachers will provide Portkeys if we can, but nothing can be relied upon. Escape to Calais in any way that you can. Release the Hippogriffs and Thestrals. Sixth- and Seventh-Years, Apparate the younger students away. Do not worry about national borders. Get the muggle-borns out first, and all those who are accounted 'blood traitors.' Remember, that we must all protect the most vulnerable…Godspeed."
He cancelled the Sonorous Charm and looked down at the shocked teachers and students. "That is the best we can do," he said solemnly, and he hurried on his way.
"Natalie, Demelza, stay close to us," Hermione said. "You need to get out. Demelza, I know your parents are in Hogsmeade, but it's too dangerous for a werewolf."
"I can try to send them a Patronus message, but they probably already know," Harry offered.
"What about my family?" Natalie pleaded. "They're muggles. They don't know about any of this."
"I'm sorry. We don't have any way to help them," Hermione said, "not on such short notice, anyway. Hopefully, our parents can pass a message to them through the other muggle-born families, and they can get out through the Chunnel."
Natalie nodded sadly. She clutched her violin case to her chest as they hurried along. It was almost as much comfort as her wand, though neither was great comfort right now.
"Come on. We have to keep moving," Harry said.
The Quidditch Pitch was burning. Students were running. It looked like Cho's vision had come true. A lot of the Forbidden Forest was burning by now, too. Harry and Hermione wished they had time to look back at Hogwarts, which had been their home for so much of the past five years, but all they could do was keep going.
Suddenly, spellfire erupted behind them, closer than the battle on the Lake. That did make them stop and turn around. Some of the Death Eaters had come past the castle and were attacking the group from behind. Harry knew they were after him, but he could guess they were coming for any muggle-borns and blood traitors they could find.
"Hurry!" Neville ordered.
Roger Davies, the Head Boy, hurried up to Albus after he gave his message, running alongside him when Albus didn't slow. "Headmaster, what about Hogsmeade? If it's as bad as you say, shouldn't we be helping them get out too?"
"I fear we do not even have the resources to help all of the students, Mr. Davies," Albus replied.
There was a loud whinny, and a unicorn bounded out of the trees, running from the flames. With its impossible speed, it leapt clear over Albus's head. Students dove out of the way to avoid the spot where it landed and its path to the river. It didn't stop at the river, but simply waded through it, then immediately turned to the north and followed it on the opposite bank, rapidly leaving the students behind.
"Whoa," Roger said.
The path upriver was growing more dangerous as the fire spread. In addition to the unicorn, deer were starting to emerge from the trees. They could hear the howls of the Forest's resident wolf pack. And then, as they ran, there was a thunderous crashing sound, like something very large was coming towards them—larger than anything that ought to be in the forest, even the trolls and Acromantulas. Albus and the knot of people around him stopped and turned, raising their wands to the incoming threat.
Hagrid stomped out of the trees, and moments later, the real source of the noise appeared behind him, standing half again as tall: Grawp.
"Headmaster, sir!" Hagrid said breathlessly. "I heard yer message. I woulda been back sooner, but I had ter get Grawp."
"Very good, Hagrid," Albus said, lowering his wand. "You should join the rest of the evacuees."
"No, sir," he said, to all of their surprise. "I need to help the other group if yeh don' mind."
"The other group?"
"The ones goin' down ter Hogsmeade. I figure any kids who're tryin' ter escape ter Hogsmeade will be targets just like these ones are. And double ter use as hostages."
"Are you sure about that, Hagrid?" Pomona said. "The most vulnerable students will be here."
Hagrid, however, kept looking at Albus. "I heard the prophecy, sir," he said. "If 'all refuges will be lost,' t'won't be safe for anyone here 'round the school. They won' be safe till they're down ter Hogsmeade. Someone has to get them out o' the fight."
"Hagrid, you must know, they will not let you go in peace," Albus warned. "You will be a particular target for Voldemort because of your association with me."
Hagrid crossed his arms and raised his head a bit higher. "If I die, I die, sir, but I ain't lettin' them get any kids who don't deserve it while I'm alive. And Grawp's with me. Aren' ya, Grawpy?"
His brother rumbled in a deep bass, "mi awen kekepen Hagrid. mi mute pana e pona tawa jan lili mute. ona mute utala e jan ike mute." Literally, I will stay with Hagrid. We will give good to the small people. They fight the bad people, which was a strong agreement, coming from a giant.
Albus looked up at his friend with renewed respect. Even after all these years, it seemed he could still surprise him. "Well very, Hagrid," he said. "If that is what you wish, good luck."
Draco Malfoy walked with the fleeing students up the river without fully understanding why. He had the hood up on his robes, ostensibly against the flames, but mostly so that fewer people could identify him. What was he bloody doing here? He could have stayed in the castle. He would have been greeted as a hero without hardly having to lift a finger. He could have done his part in the attack. He could have walked down to Hogsmeade and said he'd wanted to stay out of this mess. Instead he was following Potter and Dumbledore to flee the country to France.
But he'd made this decision weeks ago, and he was sticking to it. Staying in Britain meant joining the Death Eaters, and that meant being enslaved to a psychopath. A very powerful psychopath who could give him everything he ever wanted in exchange for his loyalty, but one who was treacherous to his own followers and would be disastrous should he lose the war.
No, he had to make sure he was on the winning side, without knowing in advance who would win (and without having the power to ensure which side won, as the Malfoys had done in the past. As he'd told Mother, he didn't know quite how to do it, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be able to do it from Britain.
And so he was running. He was running without quite understanding why, but fully understanding that he was declaring himself against the Dark Lord, but what other choice did he have?
A chill passed through the air. At first, he thought it was a shiver of fear, though he wouldn't admit it, but soon he knew it really was in the air and that it wasn't natural for the season. The calls of the animals fleeing the Forest grew more panicked and chaotic. He looked in the direction of the river and immediately regretted his decision and every decision he'd made to get to this point.
The fast flowing river was freezing over, great chunks of ice forming from nothing and damming it up so that it began to overflow its banks, until the spillover froze too. Dozens of dementors began gliding across the frozen river toward the students. And Draco couldn't cast a Patronus.
But as soon as the dementors made him question his decision to flee, they reminded him of other things. Of the people who had been tortured and murdered in his presence—and how sick it made him even when he didn't want it to. A couple of them had been when he was a baby, forgotten until this moment when the dark magic of the dementors dragged it back to the surface. He could remember hearing the screams. And he could remember what Potter said about how sick someone had to be to enjoy them.
"Damn it all, he's right!" he muttered as the Patronuses began to drive the demons away.
Narcissa Malfoy trusted her son to stand by his decision. She knew him well. She knew she had succeeded in raising him to be a proper Malfoy, even though Lucius had gone astray. And she knew he would follow through on his promise after they had agreed on what to do.
And as for herself, Narcissa was no fool. She knew this was coming this week, and knew was what going on as soon as Lucius had been called away. No frantic, hurried flight for her. She was already in Calais.
"The legions of Helheim," Hermione whispered as the dementors approached.
"Patronuses! Now!" Harry shouted. He drew his own wand and quickly cast his own Patronus. The shining silver cat pranced around and stood between them and the dementors, repelling them away from the students.
Then the spiders came pouring out of the trees.
Natalie and Demelza screamed when they saw them. Harry had only seen an Acromantula once, in the maze during the Third Task of the Tetrawizard Tournament. Most of these were even bigger, and they were hungry.
In moments, the path turned into a battlefield. With the dementors moving away, the exodus from the Forest renewed in intensity. Dear, foxes, unicorns, and a dozen other species charged across the path to the river, threatening to trip up the students, as they fled both the fires and the Acromantulas. Neville, Hermione, and Luna, and many of the other students cast curses to keep the spiders away, but it was a losing battle.
One spider leapt at Hermione, as big and powerful as a charging bull and as agile as a leopard. Harry jabbed his wand desperately, and he called to mind the incantation Cedric had used in the maze.
"Arania Exumai!"
The spell caught the spider in mid-leap, and it gave a disturbingly human-sounding scream as it was blasted back to land in front of Hermione instead of on top of her. It landed on its back, but it quickly righted itself and stumbled backwards, bleeding from its abdomen. Unfortunately, there were two more for every one they could bring down.
With a hundred thwips, arrows flew out from the trees, striking the spiders on their flanks. With their vulnerable abdomens, they spun to face the greater threat. A herd of centaurs trotted out from the trees, their bows already drawn for another volley. They loosed their arrows, and, caught between two lines of enemies, most of the spiders fled.
The trouble wasn't over, though. The students screamed again as a full-grown mountain troll lumbered out of the trees, angry at the noise and swinging its club at everything in its way. Too big to be brought down by arrows, too tough for the spiders to eat, and magic resistant to boot, only powerful curses could get rid of it quickly. And from the bellowing, Harry didn't think it was the only troll lurking about.
The centaurs weren't helpless. The more agile ones drew long, wicked-looking knives and ran in close behind the troll to slash at its hamstrings. Between those and the hail of hexes from the students, the troll quickly fell.
Harry panted for breath at the lull in the fighting, and he looked up at the centaurs. "Thank you," he said, then paused because he wasn't sure what else to say. From what he'd heard, most centaurs were anything but eager to help wizards with anything.
"Dumbledore sent us a message bidding us come and protect the foals who are fleeing from the castle," the lead centaur said by way of explanation. "But you must hurry. You especially, Harry Potter. We cannot stand against the dark wizards who pursue you."
"Er, right," he said.
They continued on, running the gauntlet of creatures from the Forest and struggling to repel the dementors at intervals. They were approaching the edge of the wards. The students at the head of the line had already reached it. They could hear cracks of Disapparition up ahead, and thestrals and hippogriffs flapped through the air. Finally, they felt the energy of the wards wash over them—not the now-shattered siege wards, but the standard wards that always surrounded the castle.
"Gryffindor first years!" Hermione called their particular charges as prefects. "Over here!"
But they had barely crossed the wards when Dumbledore was beside them, and he thrust a length of rope into Harry's hands—a Portkey. "You must go quickly, Harry. Do not worry about the first years. I will assume responsibility for your charges personally. It is too dangerous for you to stay."
Harry, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Demelza, and Natalie all grabbed onto the rope. They felt a hooking sensation behind their navels and, they were whisked away.
They landed on a grassy field that impossibly seemed even more chaotic than the one they left. When Harry pushed himself to his feet he noted his surroundings. There was a low, stone wall around them and a few stone buildings scattered about. They had come several hundred miles south, based on the temperature. But most of all, there were witches and wizards in Auror robes pointed their wands at them.
He raised his wand, but they didn't attack. It was then that he heard a voice shouting in French-accented English, "All incoming Portkeys, follow the arrows to Processing! All incoming Portkeys, follow the arrows to Processing!"
There were glowing arrows charmed onto the ground, which led to an area where more Aurors were trying to heard British refugees into a line.
"They're the French customs Aurors. They're not a threat," Hermione reasoned. She gently pushed Harry's wand arm down. Harry remained alert, but he cautiously led his group to follow the arrows.
The fort that they would later learn was the Citadelle de Calais was more controlled chaos at a second look. As they joined the other Brits, they heard tearful reunions of families, even more tearful news of those who hadn't made it out for one reason or another, and angry demands from those who hadn't heard anything. And more people were arriving all the time by Apparition and Portkey.
A blond head with a dazed look on his face caught Harry's attention. "Malfoy?" he said in shock. "What are you doing here."
Malfoy tried to sneer at him, but he didn't quite pull it off. "What do you think, Potter?" he said. "I'm making my own way, like a Malfoy is supposed to."
"You're leaving the Death Eaters, aren't you?"
This time, the sneer did work: "Don't get all lovey dovey, Potter. I'm not saying I'd have dinner with you."
Harry still looked a little smug as he walked away.
"Mum! Dad!" Hermione called, and she started running across the green.
Harry saw where she was going and immediately followed, amending his call with, "Sirius!"
"Hey there, Cub," Sirius said, ruffling his hair as he hugged his parents. "I'd love to catch up, but we've got business to take care of. Where's Dumbledore?"
"Helping the rest of the students get out," Harry said. "Do you know what happened at the Ministry?"
He shook his head: "It was gone hours ago."
"Fudge?"
"If he made it out before they sealed it off, he's probably in Paris. I'm more worried about Hogwarts. We were thinking about it while we were waiting, and I remembered Hogwarts has the book with all the student names in it. If the Death Eaters find that…"
But Harry grinned at him. "Oh, you're going to love this, Sirius," he said. "Luna, come over here!"
Sirius watched as Luna approached, hugging a large, black book to her chest, and his eyes bugged out as he figured out just what book it was.
"Voldemort's in for a surprise when he goes looking for that," Harry said.
Warrington and Montague had a special assignment to carry out once the battle was over. They climbed the stairs to the tower above the Grand Gallery in the East Wing. There, in the uppermost room, was a book that would allow them to wipe out every mudblood over the age of five, so they would never even get to Hogwarts.
It was a bit of a hike, but they made it unopposed. No traps, no lingering guards, not even the castle interfering. They looked at each other with matching wicked grins and kicked in the door.
"No!" they said when they saw it.
The ancient table was empty. The room had been cleaned out. There was nothing there except for a small, purple figurine that vaguely resembled a humpbacked cow.
"It's gone!" Montague said unhelpfully.
"Damn. Dumbledore must've taken it," Warrington growled.
"Couldn't be. He was fighting the whole time."
"One of the other teachers, then." Warrington picked up the figurine. "And what's this supposed to be? A graphorn?"
When Montague got a closer look, he groaned. "Aw, hell. I've seen that thing in that rag of Lovegood's. It's a Snorkack."
Cornelius Fudge was immensely relieved when, as he waited in the French Ministry building, Albus Dumbledore showed up. A little while later, Old Coyote and Edward Grayson appeared as well, and Fan Tong had come by phoenix before even Fudge had arrived, but he was most elated to see Dumbledore. He had been preparing himself to face this war alone, and he tried to tell himself that he still needed to be prepared to stand on his own two feet, but the fact that his most powerful allies had made it out of the country was a load off his shoulders.
Now, he had to prepare a speech to the French Wizengamot, and after that, a petition for more substantial help from the ICW. This was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do as Minister, second only to admitting the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had come back, but at least he was on solid ground this time. Politicking was his skill set.
Too soon, he had to walk out into the French Wizengamot chamber, already lined with international observers.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "the British Ministry of Magic is now in exile."
By morning, a new banner waved over the tallest tower of Hogwarts, and one like it hung in the Atrium of the Ministry: a black field emblazoned with a mark in neon green—a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth.
