Death Eater's mask inspiration came from AishaVoya Creations. You can find them there:
w w w. aishavoya products (.com) / handmade-resin-skull-mask-carved-human-skull-the-death-eater-mask (remove the bracket and the spaces)
OoOoO Chapter 9 - Battle of Hogsmead OoOoO
Harry threw himself down the empty alleyways as fast as his legs would carry him. The setting sun strained at his eyes, but he pushed forwards, keeping his ears open for the next roar of a familiar dragon.
"Oi!" a masked Death Eater yelled at Harry as he ran by. "Come back here you—" Harry heard the shout of crucio behind him, and he swerved to the right, watching silently as the green flash of light passed the fabric of his shoulder by a few centimeters.
Harry threw a paralyzing spell over his shoulder and kept running. He rounded what looked like an apothecary and saw a flare of ruby red flames reach upwards towards the sky like a backwards waterfall. A monstrous roar accompanied the burst of flame.
Harry made it to the edge of the much larger Hogsmead from his own memory and stared at the scene unfolding ahead. The tall and dark Forbidden Forest surrounded the extension of Hogsmead, and half a quidditch pitch length of recently cleared field sat just beyond. Ancient tree stumps jutted up from the unturned ground, and the smell of smoke and blood filled the air. At the edge of the clearing, an emerald green dragon that he'd recently shared a mind with stood on all fours, igniting the darkening sky and screaming her rage at hooded witches and wizards.
Harry stopped short at the mixture of costumes on the field. The Death Eaters were easy to point out, as they wore their white bone masks and dark cloaks, but he was unaccustomed to also seeing the Order members wearing something to hide their faces as well. The wore a black mask, like those from comic books, that covered the top half of their faces. Somehow, their eyes were magically obscured with the mask, so they could only be seen by the bottom of their nose and mouth. The Order did not have matching robes like the Death Eaters, but it was easy to tell apart who remained on what side.
Harry wondered vaguely if he should also use something to cover his own face.
Death Eaters and Order members had spread out around the grassy field, shooting a variety of multicolored spells faster than Harry could keep up with, while finding shelter behind the cutdown logs of the forest, and disapparating onto or off the battlefield for surprise or defense attacks. It was easy from Harry's vantage point to see how grossly outnumbered the Order Members really were.
He could also see Death Eaters attacking the dragon, and her powerful bursts of flame and physical assaults back. She used her strong tail or her long sharp talons to swipe at her prey when they got too close or ducked around her fire. Spells bounced harmlessly off her scales, but Harry could see her right wing, protected against her body, bent at an odd angle and dragging on the ground. Splatters of blood were flowing from other torn or missing scales and some nasty holes in her wings. It looked like neither the dragon, nor the Order members would last long.
Harry knew he had no choice and pointed his wand at the back of the nearest Death Eater. "Stupefy!" he shouted, and watched as the black robed man dropped to the ground, limp as a cloth doll.
And then Harry hesitated.
He stared at the body. Would they get back up? Would another Death Eater renerverate them and then kill someone else while Harry only stunned them? He knew, he could see, that Voldemort's followers had no qualms about killing or doing worse to the Order.
Remus's question flowed through his mind. You can't even say the word. How did you manage to finish it the first time, never mind doing it all again for another round?
Harry didn't know. People were dying. The Order members, those who had taken him, kidnapped him, and used him for their own purpose, were dying. Maybe Harry should have felt satisfaction? Karmic retribution? But all Harry could see was the burning Forbidden Forest. His own Hogwarts reduced to rubble and blood. Like Harry, they were fighting for their lives, protecting Hogwarts. Their children. Their future.
The scared faces of the young students Harry had already saved then flashed through his mind. It didn't matter what the Order had done, they didn't deserve this. No one deserved to look so scared, to be hated, or have to fight for lives because of Voldemort.
Harry made a choice in the split second of his hesitation.
He leveled his eyes at the next closest Death Eater and ran farther into the fray. "Parum oculus!" he shouted, and the Death Eater fell to the ground, clawing at their eyes beneath their mask, unable to see.
"Distraho!" Wands broke into pieces in their hands. "Stupefy! Everte Statum!" Death Eaters were thrown off their feet and against tree trucks. Harry didn't watch to see necks break or odd branches poke through the bodies.
Perhaps it wasn't the killing curse, but it would be enough.
Again and again his opponents fell to the ground, and more Death Eaters were forced to acknowledge a new threat at their backs. Wands were pointed and spells flew past Harry's ears, forcing him to duck and swerve away. He kept his wand up, but he counted the number of masks looking at him. He was far outnumbered. Twelve? Fifteen to one? Too many faces at once.
An Order member Harry could barely recognize as Marlene was clamoring up from the ground behind the group.
"Come on then!" Harry yelled, announcing himself and giving the Order member time to get to her feet. "Let's see what you can do!"
"James Potter!" someone yelled, throwing a curse that Harry ducked to the right to avoid.
"Not quite," Harry yelled back, and brought his strongest shield around him. "Arde Detendo!" he whispered, and made a slashing motion in the air. The front row of masked men were engulfed in spontaneous flames, their shrieks and then screams echoing over their brethren. Some rose their wands to put out the flames, but by the time that the water had dosed the heat, there was nothing left to save.
Harry had learned that one from one of Mrs. Weasley's cookbooks for cooking large quantities of magical meat.
The advancing group paused at the slaughter. "You'll pay for that!" someone screamed. Multicolored curses lit the air. "Incarcerous!"
"Diffindo!"
"Crucio!"
"Sectumspectra!"
More and more spells came at him, and Harry could barely raise his wand fast enough to defend himself. He didn't have time to even think of a spell, much less cast one. He took a step backwards, and the Death Eaters advanced with triumphant loping steps. Harry was stuck. More than stuck. He could quite possibly die right here if something didn't happen. Distract them.
The dragon roared, somehow closer to Harry than before, and a wave of orange and red flames descended from above the group down on them. Grass, cloaks, hair, skin, and bone was melted from the downpour and the Death Eaters screamed their pain at Harry as they dropped to the ground, dying or dead.
Order members took the roar as a warning and disapparated before the fire could reach them. Newly apparated Death Eaters were caught in the burning before they'd had time to realize their feet were on solid ground again. Twitching limbs and burnt blood was left when their echoes faded, and Harry watched with wide eyes as the last of the eight Death Eaters that had been in front of him stopped living. Shock was something he was used to pushing away, but the empty caution left in his mind from the heat enveloped him for a moment before he could blink or remember to breathe in.
A red curse passed his face with a hair of space between him, just barely missing, and someone screamed. "HARRY!"
Harry snapped back into himself. He ignored the melted flesh and smell of burning bodies. He pulled himself back into the present and lifted his wand at the first Death Eater he saw passing. "Expelliarmus. Incarcerous!" Snake thick ropes appeared from the fabric of the Death Eater's clothes and wrapped around him like vines on a tree, pulling him to the ground and keeping him unmoving while his wand flew through the air, landed in Harry's outstretched palm, and then snappen between his hands.
Harry turned towards the sound of his name and came eye to mask with the worried face of Lily Potter. "Harry," she breathed out, sweeping her gaze over him like she was checking for blood. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," Harry answered listlessly. "You?"
Lily flashed him a tired grin. Someone screamed behind her and Lily swirled around, throwing a spell, and pulled Harry along the outskirts of the forest. She swept her eyes around them, looking for threats. "Jonathan?" she asked Harry, then shooting off a spell somewhere to Harry's right.
"Safe," Harry answered honestly, his own gaze scanning the darkened forest and watching for blasts of spellwork.
"The children?"
"Safe."
"All of them?"
"All I could find," Harry answered.
"Where?" Lily asked, eyebrows together.
"In the tunnels under the school, the secret passage ways."
Lily glanced at him briefly. "How do you—" Lily turned back towards the battle and closed her lips tightly together. "Nevermind," she said, looking over to the dragon, now nearly a stone's throw away. "So it was you who released her?"
"Not on purpose," Harry said, knocking a Death Eater out who was about to strike down a small blonde Order Member with an angular face. He watched as their wand was crushed under the stampeding feet of others around them. "But it looks to have turned out for the best."
Lily nodded humorlessly. "It was. Natara's gotten most of the Death Eaters who came through the borders first."
"Natara?" Harry asked. So that was her name, he thought to himself. But then, Lily had said a border had fallen. "How did the Death Eaters get in?" Harry asked, shouting to Lily over a roar from the dragon.
She shook her waterfall of red hair. "Someone took down the wards against dark magic, humans, and disapparation," she yelled back.
"Who?"
"We don't know. Someone already from inside the shields."
A chill that had nothing to do with the cool night air raced up his back. "A traitor."
"That's what Moody tells me," Lily slashing her wand downwards and releasing a dark purple curse that flew out of Harry's eyesight. "Some are trying to get the wards back up now."
"Who?"
"Dumbledore, James, Bill - and if I ever get there, me." A flashing curse that barely past Harry's face spun Lily around, and he watched as she shot something back wordlessly, her face concentrated and cold. The flashes of battle illuminated her eyes, and she gazed over the twisted field of dying witches and wizards. "I've got to get to Dumbledore," she grimaced.
The fighting was only growing, and the chance to leave unencumbered seemed slim.
"I've got to just -" Lily's narrowed eyes studied the field.
The angry roar of a dragon shook the ground beneath their feet, and answered her.
An absolutely awful idea formed in Harry's head. "I think I can - I can help."
Lily's face snapped back to him. "You-?"
Gryffindor confidence filled his limbs. He'd already done it before. Once. Sort of. "Watch the skies for me," he said, and sprinted away.
He ducked under spells, and arms, and ran as fast as he could to the giant green scaled dragon sitting in the very middle of the destruction. He thought he saw Remus's face pass him, and he barely nodded in recognition before he was pushing, shoving, and stunning people as he passed.
Soon enough, Harry was standing feet away from the thickly muscled legs of Natara, with no Death Eater immediately around. Her large head turned towards him, teeth barred menacingly, and Harry put his hands up in surrender. She stopped short, and her eyes narrowed in on him. Harry stared back and saw a glinting recognition in her green eyes. She huffed, turning her head, like she was saying Oh. You. Took you long enough, I thought I was going to have to eat them all on my own.
A red curse flew over Harry, bouncing off the dragon's green scales. Harry shifted his angle, pointed, and shot. He shot spell after spell, at every white mask he saw. Some evaded and rolled, some fell and toppled to the grass. It became a sort of rhythm, Harry thought, he'd attack as he saw and the Death Eaters did the same against him. The dragon roared and spit fire for those who got too close, and got smashed by a whipping tail or shredded by sharp claws. Harry was ignoring the blood sprayed from levitated rocks or branches, the nicks of attacks that made holes in his robes or slashes from an over excited blasting charm.
But then Bellatrix laughed. It sounded only meters away, but it stopped him for a second, because he knew that laugh. From the last time he'd seen her, at Hogwarts. Laughing and twirling about as she cut down his classmates and friends. Smiling as unblinking eyes fell away from the tip of her wand and landed still warm on Hogwarts's grounds. He knew it, and it froze his limbs for a split second.
A split second was all that was needed for those opposite him. Faces unseen, the various Death Eaters across from Harry seemed to decide together that now was the time to attack. Like a tsunami, all at once, curses flew from their wands and descended over Harry before he could blink. He raised his wand arm above his head, but he knew he would only be able to shield a few. "Protego Maximus!" he yelled, and the spell threw him back a couple feet, a blue lighted shield rising above him.
Spells bounced off of top of the shield, but the force of several other curses came crashing down and his shield shattered. Something caught Harry's left arm.
Then it was blinding pain. Red hazed. Fire consuming. He yelled, maybe screamed, he didn't remember. All he understood was the feeling of ripping flesh, like someone was scratching his skin off with razored fingernails. Digging a hole into his arm muscles and carving him away with salt and lemons. Harry felt blood drip down, and his legs give out under him. He fell to his knees.
The Death Eaters watched his fall, and like a slow motioned muggle movie, Harry saw them raise their wands again to finish him.
Your wand! Hermione's familiar voice seemed to yell at him in his head. Harry use your wand! But he couldn't lift his arm. It was stopping the blood from his other appendage. Keeping flesh from falling. He couldn't—didn't have time to—
Harry felt the ground tremble and the echoed blast of Natara's roar over his head. Hairs rose on the back of Harry's neck. He looked up, and the one unhurt wing of the dragon was unfolding itself from her side and reaching over Harry like a green scaled sky. Spells from beyond the protection of the wing bounced off back at them, and Harry smiled.
He turned to look at the face of his savior and the smile dropped from his face. The dragon's eyes were closed. Pain, he thought. Closed in pain. Her breathing was labored like she was fighting for her breath and her horned head flinched from a blast of an exploding boulder outside. She was weak. Very weak. And she wouldn't be able to protect him forever. Not like this.
Harry looked at his bleeding arm and grimaced. He wouldn't be able to either. Episky, he thought. He brought his wand up and thought it again, this time concentrating on what he wanted. The blood vanished for a split second before it started going again and Harry was able to see how bad he'd been hurt. He grimaced again. It didn't look good. It was like the front side of his arm had been blown away. Skin was missing from beneath the shoulder to the middle of his bicep. It wrapped around to underneath the arm and Harry looked away. Luckily, it didn't look too deep, but damn did it hurt.
Running through the spells he knew, he's only heard of one that might be able to help him. It was something Snape had used when Harry had cursed Draco with Sectumsempra in his sixth year. Harry pointed his wand at his arm, letting the blood run down his arm. Merlin he hoped he was going to do this right.
"Vulnera Sanentur," Harry said, remembering the pronunciation. The wound stopped bleeding and Harry sighed with relief. "Vulnera Sanentur," he said again closing his eyes, careful to say the words correctly, and to concentrate on what he wanted done. He opened his eyes and took a look down. He swallowed back his stomach when he saw that his skin was starting to knit back together. Not all the way, but enough where we could wrap a bandage around it and call it a job well done. "Ferula," Harry whispered, watching as a bandage appeared around his arm tightened around the half-healed skin. It still bled through the bandage, but not as much as it had been.
He looked up Natara who was staring at him with severe eyes and watching his movements closely. "Alright," he said quietly. "Now your turn."
She huffed and smoke filled his nostrils. Like you could help me, her gaze seemed to say.
"I can," Harry insisted. "Your wing? Let's just finished this. I can get us both out of this and chase them all out." Her eyes narrowed in on him and she leaned forwards dangerously close to his face. "You ready?" he asked defiantly into her eyes.
The dragon blinked at him and leaned away, pulling her head away, and roaring outside of the protection of her wings at the battle outside. Harry ran back to the end of her wing near the tail. He could see a series of flashing lights, but he kept going until he was ducking under the back end of her wing and standing close to the base of her tail.
No one noticed him standing there at first, too many were engaged in someone else. Harry took the opportunity, ran behind the unmoving tail, and saw that it was tapered out from the base to the tip, and a series of sharp, brownish black sharp pikes stood out from the center of her tails scales. Harry would have to go up at an angle.
"Right," He told himself, and then started running before his brain could catch up to stop him. Harry's shoes slipped the first step he took, running up the scales of Natara's tail, but before he could fall off the side, he was pushing his other foot forwards and running up the end of the dragon.
Harry pulled himself onto the top of her back, a smooth section on her scaled body where no spikes were found, and the wings came together at her back. Harry leaned to her right wing, hanging limply at the ground, close to her body. "This is either going to be very good. Or very bad," Harry heard himself say out loud. He'd either get a very pissed dragon, or a boneless dragon, and Harry wasn't sure which would be worse. Harry guessed he was going to die either way after this.
He raised his wand and pointed it downwards at the oddly angled wing. Human bones were weaker than a dragon's bones, Harry knew that for sure. They were also more dense, their scales usually impervious to all magic attacks.
"Harry look out!" someone from below yelled, and Harry automatically leaned backwards and opened his eyes. A flash of a red spell crossed in front of his nose and Harry went cross eyed for a moment, trying to spot it as it flew by him. It passed him, just barely, and Harry looked downwards at who ever had yelled at him.
A man who Harry might have been Bill was just below him, throwing out curses like it was second nature. "Bill?" Harry shouted.
Bill sent a spell at a death eater facing two other Order Members as well, and turned to Harry with an incredulous expression. "A dragon?" He yelled, like Harry had just given him a very hard arithmetic question.
"Do you know how to fix broken bones?" Harry shouted.
"What?" Bill shouted back at him, over the roar of dozens of fighting witches and wizards.
"Bones! Do you know how to fix bones!"
"Brackium Emendo!" Bill shouted, ducking, and looking up at Harry from near the Dragon's feet. "Why? Are you- "
"Are you sure!" Harry shouted. Emendo meant heal, Harry thought, but Brackium? Wasn't that meant for hand, or forearm or something? Would that work on a dragon?
"Yes!"
"How about on a dragon?"
"The spell?"
"Yes!"
"Er—" Bill lifted a piece of the ground into the air and shot it forwards at a coming Death Eater. "No?" Bill shot another spell. "Different bones and such."
"Do you know what the wing's called then?"
"A what!"
Harry leaned over the side of the dragon and shot off a curse at a Death Eater who was aiming at Bill's head from the side. "The wing! Of the dragon! What's its name!"
Bill turned around, and ducked, red faced, and bleeding from the side of the head. "It's got more than one bone!" he shouted shortly.
Harry turned quickly to look at the unmoving wing. It was the front one, he suspected, as the scales were torn at the front, and it looked uneven from his height. Harry turned back to Bill. "The front one!" he shouted as loud as he could over the battle below.
"Of the wing?!"
"Front bone!" Harry repeated.
"The thick or skinny ones?"
Harry glanced back. "The skinny!"
Bill looked upwards, like we was asking the advice of a cloud above him. "Er—"
"Bill!" Harry shouted.
"I'm thinking!"
"Duck!" Harry yelled, twisting in his unbalanced seat and throwing a shield around Bill from an incoming sickly yellow curse. Bill ducked, and came back up panting, and looking a little lost.
"The spar bone!" he boomed grinning, like he was celebrating his own genius. "Charlie called it a spar bone once, I remember!"
Harry turned to the head of Natara, and three separate spells flew out around him. Harry blocked them shortly, and then pointed his wand down at Natara. She roared her frustration, her pain, and her anger at those around her. Her fire, it seemed for the moment, had run dry.
"Sorry," he shouted at her, hoping she heard him. Harry narrowed his eyes at the oddly bent bone. He had no idea if Bill's quick answer actually meant that this was a spar bone, or if his inclusion in the incantation would actually work. Maybe he could just say fix and hope for the best. "Emendo!—"Harry thought about the wing for a split second and focused downwards again, words played out in his mind. "—Maximus!"
His wand tip lit like an electric blue light, the wood vibrating beneath his fingers, and Harry watched as a dazzling dark blue and green light shot from the end of his wand at the front of Natara's wing.
Natara roared, her neck arching into the sky like she was convulsing, and her teeth snapped dangerously into the sky. Her roar boomed across the battle ground, putting a lull into the battle, like they were awaiting orders for the next moment. Harry hung onto the back of the dragon with his arm wrapped around a spike as hard as he could. Natara's tail lashed out at the ground, and Death Eaters and Order members alike backed away.
Harry looked at the wing, his eyes straining from the movement of being nearly thrown off, but when he did get a clear view, he smiled. It had worked. There were a few missing scales, some blood from puncture wounds, but mostly, the wing was intact. She could fly.
"Brilliant," Harry grinned.
Natara's roar died off and one of her large green eyes turned to look back at him, like she was assessing whether or not to kill him. Harry swallowed and looked down at the silent battle ground below him. "Shall we?" he asked. Natara stared at him, taking in his face, he thought, for a moment longer before turning her head right back around and roaring, what he then assumed, was a triumphant shout.
Her wings spread out across the opening of the Forbidden Forest and Harry looped an arm back around a spike. He looked down, and made eye contact with the first person he saw, Bill. "Let's finish this!" Harry shouted as loudly as he could, his voice hoarse from his never ending day.
Bill raised his wand into the air and shouted his agreement, causing Order members to echo along with him, and start a crashing wave of war cries. "For Hogwarts!" someone shouted, and like a mocking bird given a new sound, others took on the chant and Death Eaters fell back, confused and suddenly wary.
Natara's wings beat up and down, turning upwards, and Harry realized he was somehow in the air. Order members cheered, and Death Eaters became defensive, raising wands and backing into shadows of the forest. Natara flew higher into the sky, her wings bringing them farther upwards with every beat of her wings. Soon, Harry could make the outlines of the battle but nothing more. Wind rushed through his hair and the smell of smoke was in his mouth, drying his throat and nearly causing him to choke.
"Natara," Harry coughed. "Natara!"
The edge of a green eye looked back at him, like she was listening.
"You have to get us back down there. We need to be the distraction they need!" The wind rushed at his mouth, seeming to blow away his words. Natara was still looking at him though, focused and silent. Her eyes were digging into his, and Harry knew she could understand. He knew. "Natara go down!" he cried with a shout over the wind.
Natara turned her head back to the front and her wings beat slowly in the air. Like the top of a roller coaster Harry had seen on the telly at one point, Natara stopped her wings mid flight, and arched her back high into the sky, her body hanging downwards, unmoving in her first seconds. Harry could feel his heart beat in his fingertips.
Then without a sound, Natara's head dipped low and Harry began to fall. The wind smacked his face and nearly blew his glasses off his nose. His stomach plunged into the deepest pit of his body, his blood raced, he didn't feel he could breathe... and it was wonderful. Maybe better than being on a broom. He was falling, but it wasn't terrifying at all, it felt exhilarating. Like he had binged on a package of chocolate frogs for the last two days and he was just now able to get out and release his energy. Harry smiled and whooped at the air, flinging his hands outwards and just letting his legs hold him in place as he fell through the sky.
In front of him, the dragon seemed to snort, like she was amused, and Harry reached back down for the pike in front of him. He could see the ground coming up at Natara and himself and he narrowed his eyes at the battle below as it became clearer and clearer. Harry grimaced at the sight and tightened his legs around Natara. "On my count!" he yelled. Natara didn't turn her head, but Harry knew she understood.
They got lower and lower to the ground and Harry leaned to one side, trying to figure out the best place for a target. He didn't expect Natara's entire body to turn with his leaning weight and he leaned the other way as soon as he saw they were turning. Harry breathed deeply, and turned his head instead to find a way in. So like a broomstick, Harry thought to himself.
Natara snuffed smoke in the air like she could read his thoughts and was offended. Harry grinned at the thought. Alright, like a vastly larger broomstick who can breathe fire and has claws, Harry thought, and Natara had nothing to say back, like she was satisfied.
Weird, Harry thought. Almost like she can read my—no…
Can she? Harry caught himself and blinked. Can you?
Natara snorted fire again, and Harry got a distinct impression of amused annoyance. Good Merlin.
A group of Death Eaters on the ground had their wands pointed together at the sky, aimed at him, and away from the rest of the war. Harry pushed away his new information into the back of his mind, narrowed his focus on the group, and leaned his body in their direction. Together Harry and Natara flew over them, arching around their circle. "Now!" Harry yelled out loud and in his mind. He brought his wand down on the group, dozens of spells on his tip of his tongue, and Natara began to breathe fire down on them. They didn't stand a chance.
Leaving smoke and burning flesh behind them, Harry moved on from the remains of their first group of Death Eaters and back into the rest of the battle. He cast spells when he saw an individual outnumbered or about to die, but mostly, Natara was wiping the field with fire. Order members had disapparated from the field when she had come down with Harry to stay away from the fire, and had reappeared at the edge of the forest, shielding themselves, and protecting the forest while Natara and Harry burned from above them.
Harry didn't keep track of the time. He just saw one target after the next, over and over again, lost in the smell of smoke and the adrenaline of plunging wings and wind.
Death Eater after Death Eater fell, disapparated away, or deflected the spell and fire. Several of them tried to fight back, putting a hole in Natara's wing, and throwing spells at her underbelly. None of it slowed them down, but it made Harry aware of just how long he'd been in the sky.
It was long past dark now and the only light was the fire that sat on the ground or in the smoldering trees from Natara's breath.
Soon enough, there were no more flashes of return fire. The Death Eaters had gone, or had been pushed out by the returning shields, but Harry and natara were done.
Harry mentally asked for Natara to land them both down near the edge of the forest. Natara complied, her feelings of exhaustion and wariness leaking over into his mind and feelings. She landed hard onto the ground, her body weight against her, making her nearly fall over her own feet, and Harry was thrown forwards in his slick seat. Harry turned his face away, but his shoulder wasn't so lucky from the impact and when he fell forwards with the landing, his left shoulder impaling the first spike in front of him.
Harry didn't feel anything at first, too lost in his own hazy tiredness to really understand what had happened, but when he felt that he couldn't move backwards, and he tried to yank himself away, the pain hit and Harry nearly threw up at the fire exploding behind his eyes and feverish lightning racing through his veins. Harry cried out, gagging on his own breath, and Natara's head snapped up and around to him.
He saw a mental image of himself through her eyes, bent over himself, bleeding on her back, and a sinking feeling of … something as she watched him. Her head came forwards and she huffed a thin trail of smoke from her nostrils. Dimly, Harry heard his name being shouted from somewhere to his left. He couldn't find the strength to lift his head towards its direction, so instead, he pushed himself off and away from her spike, inch by bloody inch.
By his last inch, he was gasping like he'd just gone a round in quidditch. He threw himself backwards, pulling himself away from the bloodied spike, and his wand hand came to cradle his shoulder.
"Harry…" His vision went blurry, and he swore the world was spinning upwards towards him. "Harry… Harry…" He couldn't breathe, he thought. He couldn't blink, or scream or— "HARRY!" Someone's hands were at the sides of his face, tipping his head up. Harry's eyes opened, enchanted light filled his vision, and at the same time, his ears started working for him again.
"—shields holding for now though we still—"
"—breathing fire are you insane? He could—"
"—okay? He doesn't look too well. Is that blood—"
Harry leaned back from the hands at his face and found that he was on the grass, surrounded by people who were lost in their own conversations. Arguments were thrown across from his body in the circle that they'd made. Harry strained to see past their masks, but his eyes couldn't focus.
His arm was throbbing from the would he'd tried to heal himself, and then the spike through his shoulder just above it. He was nauseous, tired, and in pain every time he breathed out. He started to close his eyes again, but a hand on his face made him look upwards. A curtain of red hair and green eyes looked down at him with a relieved smile. "Harry," Lily breathed out softly, her mask gone. She was wiping something from his face with the edge of her robes.
"The wards—" Harry groaned, trying to raise his head.
Lily used one hand to hold his face gently. "Are fine. They've been fixed, and all the Death Eaters were banished out from Hogwarts grounds." Her wand passed over him, and a warmth filled him from head to toes.
Harry joyed the feeling of her hand on his face, but saw black spots encroaching his vision. "The Order?"
Lily looked up at the arguments going on around her. "Most are fine." Lily swallowed and smiled at him. "Less than we'd expected from a full invasion against Hogwarts. Thanks to Hagrid's quick message, you, and to Natara." Her smile turned soft and she pushed hair away from Harry's face that must have had some dried blood caked in somewhere. "The Order thanks you."
"Kids?" Harry asked, his world was spinning. Lily was just a blob of muted colors now, and a chill raced over his body.
"Lily!" James had yelled from beyond his vision. "Lily, there's—"
"James!" Lily's eyes left Harry's, but her hands remained in his face, which Harry was grateful for. He didn't think he'd slip away just yet when Lily was right in front of his face, talking to him. "Over here, I'm—"
Harry heard stomping feet and a few people shout for others to be careful. "I heard about the drago— Harry?"
Harry couldn't find the energy to move his head. "He was flying on Natara -"
"What?"
" - He fell off when she landed," Lily explain quickly. "I think he might have impaled himself on one of her front spikes, and it looks like a blasting curse nearly took his arm right here." James came to a crouch beside his wife. "He's lost a lot of blood and the Order physicians won't be here until—"
The blurred outline of James filled his vision. "You're going to be okay. Don't move -"
Harry grimaced as he didn't particularly feel like moving thanks, and his hearing seemed to cut out.
" - We might be able go to your parent's house and let my mum have a look at him if there isn't enough space here."
" - But that's not our only problem. The kids—"
Harry's eyes closed. Kids? The kids, did he know they'd been—
" - gone. Jonathan just found me. Ginny went after her, and got taken as well."
"Ginny and Luna?" Lily whispered, a terrible sadness filling her voice.
"Gin?" Harry asked, shaking his head and pulling his eyes open. What had happened? Ginny wasn't there? Luna?
Lily looked down at Harry. "Stay down," she warned. "It looks like two were taken. Ginny Weasley wanted to come and help, and Luna tried to stop her, but she went anyways. Luna followed after and—"
Harry didn't want to hear anymore. He knew what happened after that. Ginny and Luna were gone. Taken. He let his eyes close in around himself, letting the blackness comfort his pain and sudden fear that reached up from the base of his spine. He needed to sleep. To heal. He needed—
Harry's consciousness fell with his last thought and then all he knew was the comforting blackness.
For those who might not agree with Harry not immediately just throwing around the killing curse - I want to explain that I find that it would have been way, wayyyy to OOC for the (book) Harry being portrayed here to suddenly just be okay with killing and doing it, battle or not.
Harry has never been the one to want to cause death. He's only ever cast one Unforgivable, and that was after the one parental figure in his life had been murdered in front of him.
This doesn't mean the bookish character of Harry now won't change in this story (because the setting and environment will definitely cause some things to differ), he's just not there yet.
Thanks for reading!
~ Missmusicluver