Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer, here again people with another chapter of Soul Scars. This be the wrap up for the World Cup and sets up some future interactions. Not a lot else to say, really, so let's just jump right into things.
Disclaimer: I own nothing save my original plot and characters.
Here's chapter 46 of Soul Scars. Enjoy.
Soul Scars Part Four
Allegria
By,
Rtnwriter
It takes a body roughly three to four seconds to fall a distance of two-hundred feet. At some far corner of his mind, Harry knew this as he threw himself over the railing after his bond mate, and that knowledge had a wave of blind terror burning its way through him.
With his own body held straight as an arrow, he plummeted toward Hermione's falling form, his right hand held out to his side in response to a frantically cast, silent, summoning charm, as her screams echoed up toward him.
He almost cheered when the smooth handle of a broomstick slapped into his palm, but quelled that urge to focus on the task ahead of him. Mounting the unfamiliar broom in mid air, he pushed it down, swooped below Hermione and wrapped one arm around her, grasping the handle of the broom tightly with both hands.
With no time to tell her to hold onto him, even if she would hear him past her screaming, he could only hope the centrifugal force wouldn't tear her from his grip as he pulled up hard on the broom.
Her arms came around his neck, her face buried against his chest as every muscle in his body went taught, straining against gravity and momentum to correct their mad plunge toward the hard earth beneath them. The toes of his dragonhide boots dragged against the ground as the broom straightened out, something caught his foot and with a sudden lurch they were thrown from the broom as he felt something in his knee pop and then they were tumbling across the ground, rolling over and over until they finally came to a stop with Harry laying flat on his back, staring, dazed, up at the sky, and Hermione was sprawled across his chest.
He honestly wasn't sure exactly how long they laid there, but, eventually, he recovered enough from their rough landing to become aware of Hermione's gasping sobs as she clung to him, her entire body shaking, almost violently with the force of them.
"Are you okay?" he choked out., When she didn't respond he tightened the hold he had on her body and raised his voice. "Hermione. Are you hurt?"
"I d-don't th-think so," she sobbed, barely making herself understood.
"Come on, Hermione, you need to pull it together, right now. We can't stay here, we've got to get back to the others."
Nodding, she took several deep breaths and slowly sat up, allowing him to rise to a seated position as well. Before she could stand, he grabbed her and pulled her into a searing kiss, and when they broke apart, he pressed his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes.
"I have never been so scared in my life," he whispered. "I can't lose you."
That succeeded in drawing a small smile from her. "You saved me," she pointed out. "As long as you're around, you'll never lose me."
After another quick kiss she pushed herself to her feet, visibly shaken, but thankfully calmer and more in control of herself. A look around told her they were a good hundred feet from the exterior wall of the stadium. A steady stream of screaming, panicked people poured out of one of the exits nearby. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any inferi near them. She hoped there weren't any out here, at least.
"Come on," she said to Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. "We have to find a way back to the others."
He grimaced and blew out a sigh, looking up at her. "I can't," he said and she jerked around to stare at him.
"What?" she asked. "What do you mean, you can't?"
He nodded in the direction of their path along the ground, indicating the two deep furrows his feet had dug into the earth. "My right foot caught on something. That's why we fell off the broom. Something in my knee popped from the force of it, luckily my boots protected my foot and ankle, but I don't think I can stand with my knee like it is, much less walk, or run."
With that information in mind, she finally noted the sweat starting to bead on his forehead and the pained expression on his face that he was attempting to hide and she bit back the urge to swear up a blue streak, instead focusing her mind on finding a solution to their problem.
"I don't know any medical spells," she fretted. "You might be able to use a crutch, or a cane, but…" She trailed off, looking around desperately for a moment, hoping that something would inspire an idea when a thought suddenly popped into her head. "The broom!" she exclaimed. "Where's the broom? You could ride it and stay off your bad leg!"
His face broke out into a broad grin. "Absolutely brilliant, 'Mione, as always," he said as he held out his hand and silently summoned the broom. It came flying over from where it had landed about thirty feet away and slapped firmly into his hand.
With Hermione's help, and the aid of the broom, he painfully rose onto his good leg and awkwardly mounted the broom. "Woah. This is a Firebolt!" he cried, finally noting the lettering carefully etched onto the side of the smooth handle, giving her a wide eyed look as he realized what it was he was riding.
"It's a stick with bristles," she said, rolling her eyes. "As long as it gets you off the ground I don't care what it's called."
He wisely bit back his instinctive retort, well aware that she had little to no interest in brooms and flying and held out one hand to her. "Well?" he said. "Climb on."
The look she leveled at him made it very clear just what she thought of that particular idea, and might have even questioned his intelligence for even suggesting she get back on anything that would take her feet away from terra firma.
"We've both already said it. We have to get back to the others and they're up there," he said, pointing up to the top of the stadium wall where the two of them had gone over the railing. His finger shifted to point toward the exit, where people were still pouring out. "The inferi are around the lower levels, between us and them if we try to get in that way and go up the stairs. The best option is to fly up, over the wall."
She hesitated a moment longer and he held his hand out to her again. "I promise, you'll be safe with me, and I'll go as easy as I can."
"Oh, fine," she huffed, unable to argue against the logic behind his reasoning and she took his hand, carefully climbing onto the broom behind him. As soon as she was on, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle and she closed her eyes, pressing her face against his back.
"Okay," she said, her voice muffled against him and he gently pulled up on the handle, steering the amazingly responsive broom into the air.
"What do you know about inferi?" he asked, hoping to distract her. "I vaguely remember reading the word somewhere but I can't remember anything about them. How do you fight them?"
"You don't, really," she informed him after a moment of careful thought. "They're strong, fast, they don't feel pain, and they're already dead so normal methods of killing them don't work very well."
"They have to have a weakness, even the basilisk could have been killed by something as simple as a rooster crowing."
"Fire. Fire and decapitation, maybe. But if you're close enough to cut their head, off then you're already way too close for comfort."
"Good to know," he muttered as they finally came over the edge of the wall and were almost immediately set upon by their friends and bond mates.
"Thank Merlin," Susan gasped out, almost yanking Hermione off of the broom and into her arms.
Harry remained seated on the broom, unable to make heads or tails of anything that was being said as all of the various voices overlapped into a meaningless jumble of words. A sharp, piercing whistle tore through the air and they fell silent, the group parting like the Red Sea before Moses to let Amelia through.
Her expression was a mixture of terror and relief as she quickly examined Hermione for injury, only finding a few bruises from their tumble off the broom before she moved onto Harry, frowning as she cast a diagnostic charm over his knee.
"Staying on the broom?"
Harry nodded and she blew out a sigh.
"What did I tell you about the heroics?" she asked and he leveled a steady gaze at her.
"I wasn't about to just let her fall," he said.
"I'm not saying you should have. I'm just…"
Her throat closed up and she pulled him into an almost crushing embrace.
"I thought my heart stopped when she went over," she muttered, thickly. "Then you actually went and jumped after her." Somehow, her grip on him tightened even more for a moment before she pulled away. "I'm just glad you're both okay."
"You purposely jumped after me?" Hermione demanded, rounding on Harry when Amelia backed away from him and he blinked in surprise.
"Yeah, what did you think happened?" he asked.
"I thought you got thrown over, same as I did. I can't believe you purposely jumped off a two-hundred foot high wall, Harry!"
"I wasn't going to let you get hurt, Hermione. I promised myself, I promised Amelia, and I even promised your parents at one point that if there was ever anything I could do to protect any of you girls I would do it."
"You could have died!"
"You would have died if I hadn't done it! I don't care what I have to do, I'm not losing you. Any of you. You can be upset with me for risking my life all you want but if I have to, that is always exactly what I'll do to keep the three of you safe!"
His face was flushed, eyes gleaming brightly and there was a hard set to his jaw showing that he was bound and determined to dig his heels in and not be moved on this issue, no matter what anyone said
"Argue later, kids, we don't have time, right now," Sirius said as he cut in between them and Harry suddenly found his godfather wrapped around him. "Dammit, Pup, I thought you were kidding when you said you were always around for the chaos and mayhem."
"'Welcome to my world, Padfoot," Harry muttered, watching as Daphne and Susan pulled Hermione aside, whispering urgently in her ears and holding her tightly between them as the rest of the group came up to hug or clap him on the back or shoulder. A few minutes later, after a toe curling kiss from Daphne and Susan, the group started to settle down and Harry looked around the box, quickly taking stock.
Amelia, Sirius, Mister Weasley, Hermione, Susan, Daphne, Neville, Blaise, Luna, Gred and Forge, and their brother, Ron were all still present in the top box. The minister and other officials were gone, as were the Malfoy's. Of the group, Luna and Ron were probably the least equipped to deal with a crisis situation, though he knew Luna to have an extensive knowledge of spells that went beyond the school curriculum, she was a Ravenclaw, after all.
"So, what's the plan?" he asked. "Are we just escaping, or fighting these things along the way?"
"Fighting," was the immediate response from his friends. Only the adults and Ron seemed to have a different opinion on the matter.
"We need to get you kids out of here as fast as possible," Amelia argued. "Leave clearing out the inferi to the Aurors."
"How many Aurors were on hand, Amy?" he asked. "Doesn't matter, there is no way they can handle about two-hundred inferi plus tens of thousands of panicked and terrified spectators! Look around! This place is a madhouse and the only way out, aside from through the mess, is to go over the wall by broom, and we've only got one broom between us. No matter what, we're going through that!"
He flung his arm out, pointing to the shifting mass of humanity still present within the stadium. Screams, howls, growls, and cries rose up toward them like some disturbing choir, sending a chill through most of those present.
"I'm not saying we should be trying to hunt down the inferi, but they're weak against fire, according to Hermione, and if I see one, I won't hesitate to end its existence. We focus on getting out, but anything between us and the exit, we deal with as a group."
"You are all kids-"
"'Anyone fourth year and above, please help if you can'," he quoted, cutting her off. "Your words, Amy."
"You aren't fourth years, yet."
"We're sure as hell not third years," he shot back. "And Nev, Blaise, the girls and I, we all know more spells than a lot of fourth years already. With you adults and the twins we can protect Luna and Ron and help whoever we come across on the way. I want out of here just as much as the next person, but I'm not going to just leave someone else to suffer if there's something I can do to help, Amy."
By the time he finished, his eyes were blazing brightly and all of his friends, including the twins, had arranged themselves beside and behind him. The nine of them stood firm, with Harry hovering on his borrowed broom, sword hanging from his waist, dirty, disheveled, injured, but determined.
In that moment, Amelia felt as if she was seeing a glimpse of the future. Harry Potter, General in the rapidly approaching second war against Voldemort, and the most likely inheritor of Dumbledore's title of Leader of the Light. It was clear, there would be no dissuading him, or any of them. In such a situation, those kids should have been looking to her, Sirius, or Arthur as the experienced adults in their group. But not once did they consider that. Instead they looked to Harry for leadership, for direction. They looked to him, to the exclusion of all else and they would follow him over anyone else without hesitation or doubt.
A glance to her side showed Arthur beaming with pride at his sons and Sirius surreptitiously wiping a tear from his eye.
"All right," she said, knowing when she was beat. "But we're going to have to be smart about this, no matter what. That broom is a hell of a boon to have as well. I want you to take the high ground. Stay above us and call out warnings if you see trouble."
"I could attack the inferi from above too. That'd actually be the safest place to attack from and stay out of their reach."
Amelia immediately shook her head. "No. You're already injured, you need to focus on flying. What if you carried a passenger? You fly, they cast?"
He nodded, thinking it over. "Daphne's the lightest of us and she's left handed. If I needed to cast for any reason we'd be the least likely to get in each other's way. But Hermione has the best aim."
"I couldn't, Harry," Hermione immediately protested, shivering at the very idea. "It was all I could do to hold onto you on the way up here. I wouldn't be able to focus to cast any spells."
"I'll do it," Daphne said, confidently. "Just don't go too fast and I should be able to hit a target."
They quickly figured out the rest of their plan as Daphne climbed onto the broom behind him, a quick sticking charm to help hold her in place and free up her hands if needed and within minutes they were ready to go.
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She had no time to react as the creature charged them. She simply clutched her sister tightly as a horrible sensation filled her. She'd failed. She'd promised her sister they would be safe, and she just broke her promise. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to close her eyes, but she was frozen in terror as Death rushed toward them.
A flash of color caught her eye and she blinked in surprise as the inferius stumbled to a halt, only a few feet from them as a line of fire wrapped several times around its neck. Her eyes followed the line (recognizing it as the Flame Whip curse) to her left, and they widened in awe at the sight that greeted her.
Speeding towards them on the back of a broom were two figures. The flyer, a boy with a messy rats nest of hair the color of a raven's wings and eyes gleaming a brilliant green, was actually holding the other end of the whip in his bare hand. Behind him, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist, was a girl with the coldest blue eyes she had ever seen and long, honey blond hair that streamed out behind her like a banner due to their passage through the air.
Her full lips moved, forming the words to a spell she couldn't hear and a gout of flames erupted from her wand, heading off to their left at a target outside of her line of sight. The girls face was twisted in rage, and his bore a furious expression that sent tremors through Fleur's body.
The broom rocketed past her and her sister, the wind from their passage ruffling her hair and robes as he yanked on his end of the whip with all his strength and an inarticulate roar of rage. The creature was pulled away from them, its head suddenly separating from the rest of its body to arc high into the air, dropping out of sight somewhere in the lower levels.
The whip disappeared and the boy grabbed hold of the broom with both hands, jerking it up into a vertical stall. They slid forward another half a dozen feet even as they spun around one-hundred-eighty degrees on the vertical and he pushed the handle down, shooting back the way they'd just come as the blond whipped her wand through the motions of a familiar spell.
"Conflegrante!" she bellowed as another river of fire poured from the tip of her wand, quickly incinerating the body.
The entire incident took only a handful of seconds, and Fleur Delacour was left in awe of their two saviors. The power, skill, and precision they displayed. The righteous fury they showed at the abominations of the undead…
No… she wasn't in awe, she decided as she lifted her sister and climbed to her feet.
She was in love.
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"It's a good thing I had that sticking charm," Daphne muttered as Harry turned again to head back toward the girls they'd just saved. "That last turn back there would have thrown me off, otherwise."
"Sorry about that," Harry said. "I'm still getting used to this broom, it's got a lot of power."
"You're forgiven," she said. "Though, under better circumstances, I think I'd love to go flying with you again."
"Deal," he said, grinning back at her over his shoulder before bringing the broom to a stop a few feet from the two girls. One, he noted, was older than they were. She was tall and slender and possessed a figure he knew most of his dorm mates would drool over. Her hair was a long, silvery blond that fell in waves past her waist and her eyes were the color of sapphires. The second girl looked rather like a miniature version of the first, probably eight, maybe nine years of age. Sisters, perhaps? There was no way the older girl could have been the younger's mother, Harry decided.
The elder of the two set the little girl down, leaning down to murmur quietly to her for a moment before she straightened up and walked up to them, just as the broom came to a stop. Before they could do or say anything, she reached out, wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and pulled him into a searing kiss.
His eyes shot wide open as her soft lips found his and a warm, nimble tongue suddenly invaded his mouth as the nameless girl seemingly attempted to devour him.
Behind him on the broom, Daphne was similarly frozen in shock. That quickly gave way to outrage, however, and she was just about to voice her fury with the girl's actions when she suddenly separated from Harry and turned her attention to Daphne, pulling her into a similarly passionate lip lock.
As with Harry, Daphne froze in surprise, only snapping out of her daze when the girl's tongue pushed past her lips and into her mouth.
Shock, she thought. This has to be because of shock.
A moment later, the kiss ended and the girl took a step back, her pale face flushed, eyes bright. She was breathless, panting slightly, and her well developed breasts heaved up and down beneath her light robes with each frantic breath.
Then she spoke, in probably the most melodious voice either of them had ever heard. The problem for Daphne was that every word was spoken in rapid-fire French.
Without thinking, Harry responded in kind.
"Miss," he said. "Miss, please slow down. You're talking too fast and I can't understand you."
She stopped, taking several deep breaths to calm herself while Harry continued to speak in slightly accented French. He was completely ignorant of the questioning look that Daphne was directing at the back of his head.
"Are you hurt?" Harry asked the little girl in a gentle tone while her sister finished gathering her wits. She shook her head, clutching tightly to her sisters robes, but said nothing.
"Thank you, both, for saving us," the other girl finally said at a speed that Harry could keep up with, drawing their attention back to her. "I was caught by surprise and I just didn't have time to react."
Harry waved away her thanks as the rest of their group reached them. What had started out as a group of thirteen with the ten students and three adults had swelled to nearly forty people. Most of them had some minor injuries, though, luckily, it appeared as if Harry's knee was the worst of them. Everyone else was at least mobile without aid.
Neville had a scratch on one cheek and the rest of them looked a bit disheveled after the last forty-five minutes spent carefully working their way down the stadium levels and Susan and Hermione immediately came up to stand by Harry and Daphne. Susan place one hand, almost possessively on Harry's shoulder as Hermione took one of Daphne's hands in her hold, squeezing gently and leaning over to place a kiss on the girl's cheek.
"It's not a problem at all, we saw you fall just as we got to this level," Harry said, oblivious to the curious look the girl gave the four of them. "We've been trying to clear these things out and help anyone we can on our way down. My name is Harry and this is Daphne." He quickly went on to introduce the rest of them, ending with, "and that's Sirius Black, be careful of him, he's trouble."
"What's that you're saying about me, Pup?" Sirius asked, grinning broadly at Harry.
"All good things, Padfoot, I swear," he shot back with an answering grin of his own and beside him, Hermione snorted out a laugh. Sirius' grin turned into a frown as he realized he probably shouldn't trust what his godson was saying and assume he was trying to get him into trouble.
"I am Fleur Delacour, and this is my sister, Gabrielle," Fleur said, somewhat intrigued by the by-play.
"It's nice to meet you Fleur, Gabrielle," Hermione cut in, her French noticeably smoother than Harry's. "Are either of you hurt?"
Fleur shook her head, her long hair swaying with the motion. "Non," she said. "No, we are unharmed."
"Good. Um… do you speak any English? It looks like Hermione and I can translate if we need to but I don't know if any of the others understand French," Harry asked, almost apologetically.
"Oui, I do speak English, zough Gabrielle does not," she responded in heavily accented English. "It is not my best language, but well enough, I zink."
"Good to hear. You're welcome to stick with us until we get out of here. Did you have family here with you, or is it just you two?"
"Our fazer is 'ere, somewhere. 'E is with ze French Ministry so 'is staff might 'ave sent 'im away by Portkey, but I do not know for certain. I 'ad taken Gabrielle to ze restroom and we were just returning when everyzing 'appened, so we were already separated from 'im."
"Standard procedure in these kinds of events is to get all government officials out as quickly as possible so staff can focus on everyone else," Amelia cut in, moving to the front of the group. "Would your father be Sebastian Delacour, by any chance?"
"Oui, Madame," she said. "Do you know 'im?"
"I know of him. My job with the DMLE puts me into contact with foreign Ministries on occasion and your father is rather well regarded in the law enforcement community. Head of the French Auror Division isn't a position reached easily."
Harry glanced over his shoulder, noticing some of the others they'd picked up looking restless and he turned his attention back to the situation at hand.
"We should keep moving, Amy," he said in a low murmur. "The natives are getting restless and we've only got a few levels to go."
"I think I'll get down and walk from here," Daphne spoke up as Amelia nodded and she canceled the sticking charm that was holding her to the broom, letting Hermione help her down.
"What was with that kiss?" Hermione murmured in her ear and Daphne flushed brightly.
"I have no idea," she whispered back. "She just grabbed Harry and then me. I'm thinking she was just in shock and hoping to leave it at that. There's only two girls I want kissing me, and she isn't one of them."
Hermione's smile was loving and she resisted the urge to press her lips to the other girl's, rather devoting her attention to focusing on getting the hell out of that stadium. Somewhere below them they could hear the sound of spells being cast and the continued growling of the much reduced number of inferi.
The group continued forward with Harry floating along beside Amelia as the two of them talked in low voices. Down another level they went, burning three more inferi as they moved along.
"Why does 'Arry continue to fly zat broom?" Fleur asked, falling into step beside Susan, who was walking along on Hermione's right side with Daphne bracketing the bushy haired witch on her left side.
"He hurt his knee earlier, saving Hermione," Susan informed her in a tight, clipped tone. She'd seen the girl kissing her bond mates as well, and was none too pleased with her. Much of her anger quickly bled away, though, when Hermione's hand slid into hers and squeezed reassuringly. "He can't really put any weight on it, so he's just been using the broom to get around instead," she finished the explanation, holding tightly to Hermione's hand.
"I know a few 'ealing spells," Fleur offered. "I could see about alleviating ze pain, at least?"
"I think that would be appreciated, thank you, Fleur," Hermione said and the French beauty nodded, moving up to walk beside Harry and Amelia as she made her offer.
"You know he's gonna say 'no'," Susan pointed out as the three of them watched.
"Of course he is. It's Harry," Hermione said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and indeed, as they watched, they could see Harry waving away the offer, though he smiled gently at Fleur to take any sting out of the denial.
"I wanted her to move away though to talk to you two, really fast," Hermione continued, bringing the girls attention back to her. "I'm not any happier about what she did than you are, Susan. But circumstances aren't normal, and I think, as long as she doesn't try anything else, we don't need to do anything. She and her sister are in a dangerous situation and she was extremely grateful to two people that'd just saved her life. We'll likely never see her again after this as well, so there's no reason to be so upset with her."
Susan frowned as Daphne remained silent. She didn't have to watch someone else kissing one of her bond mates, so kept her own opinion, even though she agreed with Hermione's assessment of the situation.
"All right," Susan finally said, agreeing as well. "I think we'll need to keep watch on some of the boys around her, though. I think she's at least part Veela. She may have her Allure under control right now, but if and when things get… exciting, again, that control may slip."
Daphne looked around, frowning, at some of the males among them.
"Yeah, that could get really ugly, really fast," she said, nodding toward a couple of guys they'd helped four levels up. The two were in their early twenties and appeared to be barely paying any attention to where they were going as they were too busy staring at Fleur's arse whenever the swaying curtain of her hair moved aside enough for that, admittedly, shapely part of her anatomy to be visible.
"Ron and the twins seemed the most susceptible earlier, too," Hermione pointed out. "Nothing to be done right now, though. We'll just have to keep aware."
Silence fell over most of the group as they carefully made their way, wands clutched firmly in hand, into the unknown.
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"I don't give two rancid shits what you think, Nik! People are dying out there!"
Nikola Bogdan, coach and manager of the Bulgarian National Quidditch team sighed in frustration and rubbed at his eyes for a moment before returning his attention to the angry teen in front of him.
'"I am well aware of what is happening out there, Viktor, don't think I'm not," he said. "My eyes do still work, after all. And people dying is precisely why you are staying here. Your parents entrusted me with your care and I would be breaking that trust by letting you go out there."
Viktor Krum scowled at the man he'd known since birth, the man he considered honorary uncle, and for a teen who naturally looked as if he had a perpetual scowl on his face, it was an impressive sight. However, it had absolutely no effect on Nikola, who had long become immune to the boy's fierce scowls and glares over their long association with each other.
"You act is if I am not capable of handling myself," he said. "As if my father, member of the Home Guard, would not be proud of me to fight for the innocent."
"Not at all, Viktor, I just don't want you to get hurt, or die. I know you are skilled, but even the best may still fall."
Viktor growled under his breath and stalked across the room, snatching up a pair of omnioculars from the top of the clubhouse desk as he passed and shoved them into Nikola's chest.
"Watch the recording," he snarled. "Tell me what you see."
Surprised by the sudden actions of his pseudo-nephew, Nikola fumbled the device, almost dropping them, before lifting them to his eyes as he pressed the button to play back the recording. While he watched, Viktor stomped his way over to the window and stared out at the bitch below, his own memory of the recording playing out in his mind's-eye
From the very window where he now stood, he'd made that recording, looking out across the ravaged pitch to the stands on the other side. A group of people had started moving down through the levels, perhaps ten, maybe fifteen minutes after the initial attack had begun. Three adults and ten teens, most of whom couldn't have been more than fourth year students, at best.
The thing that had most intrigued him was the obvious dynamic within the group. The red haired witch spoke and pointed out people or problems as they moved, but it was the black haired boy, mounted on a broom, that they followed. It was him they truly listened to. With a blond girl mounted behind him, the teen cut through the air, providing overwatch for their group as well as fire support when needed.
More than once, the boy had shown a commanding skill with the Flame Whip curse, leaving several headless inferi in his wake as they lead a growing number of people down and toward the exits. Viktor had been checking on their progress from time to time, between arguing with Nik.
"I see people trying to escape," Nikola finally said in answer to his initial question after watching a few minutes of the recording.
"You see people helping others," Viktor snapped. "Not hiding behind wards, waiting for everything to be over. Look at the boy. That idea is brilliant, to use brooms for attack and observation. He has the best view of the terrain and he can attack from a safe distance when necessary."
Frustrated, he spun and gestured to the room around them with a sweeping motion of one arm. "We have six skilled flyers and some of the best brooms ever made!" he cried. "We should be out there, helping, not hiding in here, like cowards."
"Viktor is right, Nikola," Aleksandar said, shooting to his feet from where he'd been listlessly sitting on a stool, leaning against one wall. He was their teams second Beater, and had been friends with the, now dead member of their team, Milen, since they were both just boys. "This attack cost Milen his life, and it has taken many others as well. If you won't let us save those we can, at least let us get some revenge for Milen."
An angry murmur swept through the rest of the team and Nikola easily saw the writing on the wall. There was no way he would be able to keep them sequestered for much longer, and if they tried to overpower the wards he had placed to keep those things out and his team in… bad things could happen.
Letting out another frustrated sigh, Nikola caved and drew his wand to begin dismantling his wards. When he finished, he turned to face the youngest member of his team with a serious expression that was wholly out of place on his usually jovial face.
"Keep in mind, that if you get hurt, I'm the one who will have to face your mother's wrath," he said.
Viktor smiled and clapped the man on the shoulder.
"Oh, ye of little faith, Nikola," he said. "We will show these British just how Durmstrang teaches us to deal with the Dark Arts." Grinning, he turned to his team and, with a wave of one arm, they all grabbed their brooms and followed the burly Seeker out of the room. In moments the six of them took to the air, fully intent on avenging their fallen teammate. Their friend.
#####
After having her offer of medical aid firmly, but politely, rebuffed by Harry, Fleur let Gabrielle and herself fall a touch behind, what appeared to be, the core group. There was a friendly middle aged wizard with bright, orange/red hair and three of the boys appeared to be his children, if their matching surnames were anything to go by. The twins, she felt, might be decent boys, and possibly friends. They were funny and though they were behaving quite seriously, it was clear that such a state of being did not come naturally, or comfortably, to either of them. They also appeared to be, somewhat successfully, fighting off the effects of her Allure, low as she had it. The youngest boy, though… the less she thought about him, the better, in her opinion. He was a drooling slob and she wanted to waste no more time on him than she had to.
The next three to fall under her scrutiny were two boys the same apparent age as the slob and a girl a bit younger than them. The boys showed a much greater will, however, than the slob did, to fight her Allure. Standing between them was the girl, a curiosity in and of herself. She had extremely pale blonde hair, nearly white, and the only words Fleur could think of to describe the girl were waifish, or perhaps, elfin, with her too large eyes and her mannerisms, completely lacking in guile. Something about the girl gave her a warm feeling that she couldn't quite figure out and, as she thought about it, the girl looked over her shoulder at Fleur, and smiled.
Shaking her head, she studied the last two adults as they worked their way around a tangle of bodies that had apparently fallen from one of the upper levels even as Fleur scooped her sister into her arms and pressed her face into her shoulder, hiding the sight from her as best she could.
Madam Bones was obviously of no relation to the four male redheads. The color of her hair, alone, precluded that possibility with it's much deeper and more vibrant shade. Fleur felt she could really like the woman. She appeared to be a no-nonsense kind of woman, skilled and competent, though she didn't seem to take herself too seriously.
The man, she gathered, was important to Harry. So was Madam Bones, for that matter, though how exactly she fit into the equation, she wasn't certain. The friendly banter between the two dark haired wizards, even amidst the death and chaos around them was indicative of a very special relationship, and it was the man's name that had given away the game to her.
France was not so far removed from Britain that they had not heard the story of the wrongful imprisonment of Sirius Black, and his easy manner with Harry was telling in the extreme. There was only one teen boy with black hair and green eyes that could possibly be so connected to the Lord Black.
Harry Potter.
Lord Harry James Potter, in fact.
Merde, she thought. You just had to get your ass saved by THE Lord Potter.
With her thoughts now consumed by him, her attention focused on the young man, and the three girls that surrounded him like an honor guard. The lovely brunette, Hermione, walked to his right side, her wand in hand. Occasionally she would turn to whisper in his ear and he would either nod or respond with a few quiet words of his own before turning his attention back to their surroundings.
On his immediate left, another beauty, Susan Bones. Of the three of them, she was probably the most beautiful with her vibrant red hair, deep blue eyes, and an already full figure that Fleur knew would eventually rival her own as the girl grew. Of the four of them, Susan appeared to be the most nervous, her head jerking around at every strange sound as they walked. Frequently, and without even looking, Harry and Daphne on Susan's left side, would reach out to place a calming hand on her arm or shoulder, and at their touch, the tension would visibly drain from her tightly coiled muscles.
Daphne rounded out the four of them, shorter than the others and slender with her pale skin and long blonde hair she was just as beautiful as the other two girls in her own way, each of them possessing a different, but no less alluring appeal.
Three beautiful girls, yet Harry did not seem in the least distracted by their presence. In fact, the longer she watched, the more and more difficult it became to think of them as anything less than a unit. The lines blurred between the individuals as she observed how they interacted and behaved around each other. Daphne and Harry constantly scanned their surroundings, though it was clear that their purposes differed. Daphne appeared ready to defend as Fleur caught her practicing the wand motions to several different shielding charms as they moved, whereas Harry was tense, ready to spring forward on the attack at the slightest hint of danger
Yes. The four of them presented quite the puzzle for Fleur Delacour. The power Harry displayed attracted her like no other she had ever met. Even at the distance she was from him, she could feel it, humming beneath his skin and crackling in the air around him. A tightly coiled snake ready to strike. Danger and protection all wrapped together into a darkly dressed package that set her heart racing and her pulse pounding even as Daphne appeared more light and free, cold defense in the face of fire.
She wanted them, that she couldn't even pretend to deny.
But the four of them together… there was something there. Her senses were telling her something was going on between them that she wasn't, yet, aware of, and she wasn't sure if it was her place to interfere.
They reached another set of stairs and the three girls each kissed Harry's cheek before he rose into the air on his broom to scan the area below.
Right now was not the time to focus on such things, she decided, as a scream echoed up from somewhere in the distance. But later. Later she would attempt to puzzle out this mystery, and determine exactly where she might be able to fit into it.
#####
The wind ruffled his hair as Harry rose quickly into the air, his eyes scanning the surroundings carefully for anything that might pose a threat to their group. His hands gripped the handle of the broom tightly as it hummed under his palms, barely restrained power just waiting to be set free. Harry loved his Nimbus 2000, but he really could see the appeal to the Firebolt. It responded so easily to his commands, almost as if responding to his thoughts. The power and speed took some getting used to, but it handled beautifully and had been instrumental in how far they'd gotten with no serious injuries amongst them.
At the thought of injury his knee gave a painful throb, as if reminding him that not all was right with the world and he winced, resisting the urge to rub the affected joint. That would likely only make it hurt worse, he reminded himself.
Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his left eye and he spun the broom about, flicking his wrist to send his wand blank into his hand and he quickly adjusted his grip, laying his index finger along the length of Holly. It was the method he'd used to fake casting his patronus through the 'wand' during Sirius' trial. By laying his finger along the wood, he could cast from there and make it appear as if he was casting from his wand. It wasn't perfect, by any means. If anyone looked too closely they would be able to tell the spells weren't actually originating from the wands tip, but it was good enough for now so he stuck with it.
Six figures on brooms rose into the air from the far side of the stadium, about half way up, each dressed in the Quidditch robes of the Bulgarian National Team and his jaw dropped open as he realized they were heading toward him.
"Nie sme tuk, za da pomognem, ako mozhem," one of them called as they approached and Harry blinked in utter bewilderment.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't speak your language. Do any of you know English?"
The figure at the lead of the group moved closer and Harry's eyes widened slightly as he realized that it was Viktor Krum, the teams Seeker and probably the youngest professional player in the world.
"Dah," he said in a deep voice, his face stern as he came closer. "I do speak some English. My friend, Aleksandar. He say, we haff come to help. We do not like our manager keeping us in club house, while people are dying. We wish to help end these…" He spat out a word in Bulgarian that Harry didn't understand, but his tone of voice made it pretty clear that it wasn't pleasant.
"Help is always appreciated." Moving forward, Harry held out his right hand. "Harry Potter," he said and Viktor's eyes widened, much as his own had moments before before the larger boy reached out and accepted the offered hand in a firm shake.
"Viktor Krum." He gestured back to his teammates. "None of my friends speak English, but I shall do my best to… translate? Yes, translate."
"Do you and your friends know how to fight these things?"
Viktor nodded. "Fire is best way to deal with Inferi." His grin was nearly feral in appearance. "We are quite good with fire. We will help guard your group."
A small voice reached them from below and the two looked down to see a figure with red hair waving up at them with both arms.
"That's my guardian, Amelia Bones. Let's head down and see what she wants," Harry said and Viktor nodded, barking out a few commands to the rest of his team. The seven of them dropped quickly through the air, coming to a hover in front of the group of survivors and Amelia strode up to them with the girls flanking her.
"I see you've found some more friends," she said, smiling tightly at him and he nodded.
"Viktor Krum and the rest of his team," he said, by way of introduction.
She nodded briefly to them before turning her attention back to her ward. "We've got a problem," she said in a grim tone and Harry fought back the urge to groan, merely gesturing for her to continue. "Whoever cast that Dark Mark must have raised a new anti-apparition field. There were some set up over the stadium originally, but when I called for the Emergency Protocol, dropping those wards was one of the first things done. That's why I told people to apparate out, if they could. The fewer people we had in here the better. Right now though it looks like nearly a hundred people are gathering down on the pitch, and not heading for the exits. I don't know why, but I doubt it's anything good. If the exits are blocked or something, we have no easy way out of here."
Harry frowned, looking around at the rest of them.
"It'd take too long to try and ferry people out by broom, even with six extras on hand. Only thing we can do is go down and investigate, right?" he asked and she gave him a weary nod.
"Is there likely to be any command center set up outside for the Aurors? Anything like a central location to send people to that they'll be able to easily recognize?" he asked and she nodded again.
"Standard Operating Procedure has a command center and triage tend set up to deal with injuries and to coordinate manpower." She let out a frustrated sigh. "Which is actually something that concerns me."
"How so?"
"Amelia glanced at her watch. "It's been at least… an hour since you and Hermione went over the top of the wall," she said, ignoring the way that Viktor jerked in surprise and spun on his broom to stare at Harry. "That means that it's been over an hour since I called for the emergency protocol, but no reinforcements have shown up."
Harry frowned. "Yeah, that's not good," he muttered.
"All we can do right now is get down there," Amelia said, pointing to the slowly growing crowd of people on the pitch, "and find out what's going on."
Amelia started down the stairs toward the pitch as Harry's friends turned to look at him.
"Well?" he said in response to the enquiring expressions on their faces. "Let's get going?"
Without a word they started to follow after the red haired witch and Harry's attention was caught when several of the Bulgarian team members cursed and started handing galleons over to a smug looking Viktor Krum.
"What's that all about?" he asked, curiously, as they floated along after the other's while Krum pocketed his new wealth.
"I bet my teammates that you were the leader, here. Some of them did not believe me," he said, smirking at the younger teen.
"Leader? Me?" Harry gaped at the older boy in surprise. "I'm not the leader of anything," he protested.
"Yet your friends all turned to you, before following," Viktor pointed out. "You may not feel like leader, but they see you as one."
He pushed his way forward, leaving Harry to consider his words.
By the time they reached the pitch with the rest of their group, the total number was well over a hundred, and many of them looked more than a little scared. All of them were a mixture of dirty, disheveled, scraped, and bruised, though none appeared to be seriously injured, thankfully.
"Is anyone in charge, here?" Amelia asked as she came to a stop near the group, and a moment later an aristocratic looking man, wearing a formal looking uniform, stepped out of the crowd.
"Oui, Madame," he said in an extremely light French accent. "My name is-"
"Papa!"
Before the man could finish, a loud cry cut him off as little Gabrielle spotted the man and she leaped out of her sisters arms to sprint across the torn grass toward him.
"Gabrielle?" he gasped out, his mouth dropping open in surprise just before she plowed into his midsection, babbling incoherently in broken, tearful sobs. Fleur followed her sister at a more reasonable, yet still hurried, pace, and within moments the three of them were wrapped in a tight embrace.
It took them a few minutes to gather themselves, but the man, obviously their father, was a practical individual and he quickly returned to business, though he did so with Gabrielle held tightly in his arms and his eldest daughter standing close beside him.
"My apologies," he said in a choked voice. "I am Sebastian Delacour, Head of the French Auror Division."
"No apologies necessary, Monsieur Delacour," Amelia told him, smiling gently before introducing herself and the rest of their main group, minus those they'd picked up on their way down.
"What's the situation?" she asked, after the introductions and Sebastian's face twisted with distaste.
"There are four troll inferi blocking each of the exits, no idea where they were earlier, but they have arrived since the anti-apparition wards went up. It's not a very strong ward, but just enough to make it inadvisable for most people to try to power their way through. They wouldn't manage without splinching something," he explained and Amelia let out a surprised whistle when he used the words 'troll' and 'inferi' in the same sentence. With how resistant to magic a troll was it took some serious power to make one into an inferius.
With each exit blocked, and fire being less likely to work quite as well as it shouldn't against a troll… getting everyone left out just became a lot more difficult than she'd expected it to be.
"Why not just blast through the wall over there?" Harry asked from where he'd been hovering nearby, listening to their conversation as he pointed to the stretch of wall directly behind the Irish goal hoops. "There's no seats right behind the posts, so that's where the wall is the thinnest, and it's a good distance away from the trolls. If people are ready to run as soon as a breach is made they can make for the portkey and appartition sites in order to get out of here."
"The walls were warded to resist damage during the stadium's construction," Amelia informed him."
"Yeah, Pup. That's pretty standard with magical construction like this place. They wouldn't want anyone accidentally, or intentionally causing the kind of damage your talking about."
"But the wall is still wood, right?" Harry asked, thoughtfully.
"Yes, but trying to set them on fire won't help either."
"I wasn't thinking of fire," he admitted as he turned to face the girls, an apologetic expression on his face.
"Harry, you can't be serious," Hermione started.
"Not a word out of you!" Daphne added, sharply, as she jabbed a finger in Sirius' direction. The Marauder closed his mouth, grinning broadly even as he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"I am," Harry was saying in response to Hermione's question. "We have to get out of here, and how many people do you think there are that know the spell?"
"But the recoil…"
"I know, lemme talk to Viktor."
Hermione frowned, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth while Susan groaned in obvious dismay. Behind the girls, Neville was asking if anyone could conjure or transfigure a small sofa, to the confusion of many of those present.
Harry flew over to Viktor while Sebastian, Amelia, and Sirius looked on in confusion, feeling that they were being sidelined somehow while a plan they had no clue about was being worked out.
Looking as confused as everyone else, Viktor began asking question of Harry while Amelia walked over to the girls for an explanation.
"What is going on?" she asked. "He can't think he's going to Reductor a hole through those walls, they're designed to resist damage exactly like that, I told him that already."
The three girls were already sitting together on the provided sofa. It was a bit wobbly, and very simple in its design, but it did the job it was intended to do, and that was all they needed.
"Not a Reductor," Susan responded. "But he's planning on doing something stupid," she added, looking over to where their bond mate, still in discussion with Viktor was rising into the air, along with the rest of the Bulgarian team. Viktor appeared skeptical of what Harry was saying, but still, they complied with his directions.
"Crap," Daphne suddenly blurted out. "Does anyone know how to treat a dislocated shoulder?" she asked of the crowd. Amidst murmurs of denial, Sebastian stepped forward.
"I have always excelled at battlefield medicine," he said. "Who has a dislocated shoulder?"
"Harry is probably about to," Hermione said, worriedly watching the sky.
"What in Morgana's name is that idiot going to do?" Amelia demanded, her temper finally starting to get the better of her as the situation spiralled further out of her control.
Susan's response did absolutely nothing to reassure her. "Siege Engine," she said, then the three of them clutched tightly to each other and appeared to be bracing themselves, their eyes never leaving the speck in the air that was Harry Potter.
"Oh, crap," she muttered, and turned her attention to the sky as well.
"Papa, what is he doing?" Fleur asked, sidling up to her father as most of the people around them started paying more and more attention to what was going on in the sky above their heads.
"I am not entirely certain," he muttered back. "But I think we're about to find out. Here, take your sister. I think my medical skills are about to be needed."
The six members of the team were spacing themselves out, wands in hand and each of them watching Harry like a hawk as, moments later, he suddenly dropped out of the sky. Rapidly approaching the ground the broom leveled off about fifteen feet above their heads, streaking toward the stadium wall.
Thirty feet from it, Harry bellowed out the incantation to a spell that everyone present was easily able to hear with perfect clarity.
"Destruere Muros!"
Amelia recognized the spell, and as the words flitted across her consciousness everything she knew about the spell filled in as well. The Siege Engine spell. Incantation: Destruere Muros. Literally translated, it meant 'destroy walls' and that was precisely what the spell did. Like muggle siege engines of the middle ages, the spell created a large burst of power that would strike with all the force of a giant boulder. It was meant to breach fortified locations during battles centuries ago. The difference between the siege engine and the actual machines that launched giant rocks was in the magic.
The spell was designed specifically for magically warded walls, just like the stadium wall Harry was attacking. Just in front of the crushing blast that would strike the wall was a razor sharp spike of magic, meant to pierce and weaken the warding on the walls an instant before impact. The dual nature of the attack meant that it would easily breach most fortifications.
But the spell had several drawbacks that meant it wasn't used for long and quickly fell out of favor in the end. First was the amount of raw power needed to use it. Not many witches or wizards could cast the Siege Engine without exhausting themselves. Second was the recoil. The blast of power usually sent the caster flying, resulting in severe injury, more often than not.
When the spell, an azure orb of screaming eldritch fire, easily four feet across, struck the base of the wall, the sound it made was incredible. A thunderous boom shattered the air around them and had most of the people standing around instinctively clutching their hands over their ears in pain.
Despite having her own ears covered, Amelia was still easily able to hear the three girls on the small sofa letting out their own screams of pain, though theirs sounded more immediate and she turned to find them each clutching their own right shoulders, faces screwed up and eyes clenched tightly shut. A glance at the sky showed Harry pinwheeling through the air, stuck to his broom by way of another sticking charm and it was only the quick action of several of the Bulgarian flyers that kept him from slamming into the ground as they caught him with a few deft waves of their wands.
It was only after they removed him from the broom and brought an unconscious Harry Potter over to lay him down on the grass near them that she looked back at the wall where his spell had struck, her eyes widening as she took in the damage. The hole ripped into the base of the wall was easily twenty feet wide and half that high, the edges charred black and the ground beneath had a deep channel dug into it that lead out onto the grounds.
"Holy buggering shite!" Sirius barked out and she could only nod in stunned agreement.
Before anyone else could say anything, there was a surge of motion as the crowd moved toward the opening, some of them at a run. Cries of joy quickly turned to screams of pain and horror as a wave of inferi poured through the opening and crashed into the those in the lead. Amelia's wand shot into her hand with a flick of her wrist and her world narrowed down into a sharp focus on one goal.
Staying alive.
#####
Harry's eyes snapped open, glowing brightly and he tried to sit up when hands suddenly held him down. Pain tore through his body and he struggled against the hands in a moment of blind terror before a voice cut through his confusion.
"Harry! Calm down! It's me, Susan, and Mister Delacour, he's trying to heal your shoulder."
Harry immediately stilled at Susan's words and he relaxed back against the ground, he realized, based on the smell of the grass, turning his head toward where her voice had originated.
She was kneeling on his left side, one hand on his chest, her deep blue eyes fixed on his face even as she held her own right arm close to her side, as if in pain.
"I'm sorry," he said, barely conscious of the figure moving on his right side, a wand waving over his injuries. "I didn't want to hurt you girls, but…"
"It was the only way, I know," she assured him with a small, tight smile. "I wish it wasn't necessary but… well, at least we were prepared for it, this time," she finished. Toward the end of their previous year, Harry had finally succeeded in casting the extremely difficult Siege Engine, and the result had been three days in the hospital wing recovering from another dislocated shoulder and several badly broken bones. The three of them had been wholly unprepared for the result of the spell and had collapsed from the pain tearing across their bond when the recoil had thrown Harry bodily through the air to smash hard into one of the stone walls in the Room of Requirement.
The rest of them had given up on trying to learn that particular spell after that, deciding the downsides just weren't worth the potential benefit. Hermione had been quite upset that the book they'd found the spell in hadn't made more of a point to detail those downsides before they'd spent so much time working on the bloody thing.
Harry's wince had her gently running her hand across his chest in a soothing gesture and a moment later there was a loud pop and Harry grunted, even as she let out a small groan from the brief flare of pain in her own shoulder as his was pushed back into its socket.
"We can't have you in a sling, Monsieur Potter," Sebastian said as he conjured bandages to wrap tightly around Harry's chest and shoulder. "A little support would not be amiss, however. I have already repaired much of the damage to your knee, as well. You should be able to walk on it though I imagine it will still be tender."
Harry turned his head to the man beside him and nodded his thanks as Susan helped him to sit up. As he did so he finally took notice of the chaos around them. Daphne and Hermione stood near his feet, Daphne shielding while Hermione cast banishing charms to knock away charging inferi where she would then burn them with a well place Incendio or the Conflegrante spell that Daphne had used while riding with him on the broom. Amelia and Sirius stood behind him, covering their backs as Gabrielle huddled near her father and Fleur shrieked in rage, throwing balls of flame from her hands at the undead.
"What the hell happened?" he asked, looking around sharply for the rest of their friends. Neville and Blaise stood back to back with Luna beside them, wands dancing back and forth as they kept the inferi at bay and Luna burned them to ash whenever she could. On his other side a few paces away, Arthur Weasley stood with his three youngest sons against the monsters around them.
"Soon as you breached the wall a horde of them rushed in here," Susan informed him and he grunted, pushing himself to his feet. A low growl reached them and he looked up, instinctively banishing an inferi that was charging at his girls, followed up with an incendio the size of a quaffle that rapidly reduced the abomination to a pile of ash.
A twinge of pain shot through his shoulder, but it was nothing he couldn't handle, and he focused his attention for just a moment, bringing his Occlumency up as strong as he could to block the pain from the girls. A small sigh of relief from Susan told him he'd been successful and he brought his attention back to the world around them.
Around them, much of the group they'd gathered in their trek down from the upper reaches of the stadium were fleeing from the inferi in terror. Not a single one of them drew a wand, though he noticed the Bulgarians strafing the undead from the sky, fire spewing forth from their wands.
"Where's the broom?" he asked, only to have Susan shake her head.
"No flying for you. Your shoulder won't take that stress right now and you're done. Mister Delacour said that you drained a lot of magic on that Siege Engine, you need to take it easy."
"I can't take it easy when we're fighting for our lives, Susan," he said, urgently, but as calmly as he could lest she think he was upset with her.
"Look, it's almost over," she shot back, firmly. "You can't save everyone, Harry. You can't do everything alone. Stay here, with us, help if you want or can, but you can't go tearing off."
"What about them?" he demanded, pointing at the fleeing people that were being pursued by more of the undead.
As he spoke, a river of fire fell from the sky and two of the flyers swept past, burning the inferi on the ground to ash before they shot off toward the fleeing crowd, picking off any more of the undead that they could find as they went.
With no other arguments, pain and exhaustion clawing at the edges of his mind, Harry finally conceded defeat and focused his attention on what was in front of him, though truthfully, there was little for him to do. With Sebastian joining the fight, Amelia, Sirius and Arthur worked with the twins and even Ron to keep any of the inferi away from their group and, minutes after waking, there was nothing left to fight. In the distance, Harry could still make out brief flashes of fire as the flyers continued to hunt down the stragglers, but eventually, even that faded, leaving only the moans and screams of the injured.
"Sirius, I need to stay here and start cleanup. Also I need to find out what the hell is keeping the rest of my Aurors," Amelia said, somewhere off in the distance, to Harry's awareness. "Get the kids back to the tent with Arthur and get them the hell out of here. Our return portkey should be on the table in the tent I was going to share with the girls. It'll activate with a wand tap…"
Whatever else she said faded away and Harry was only barely aware of the activity that next took place. Later he would hold vague memories of walking through a ravaged tent city, fires smoldering here and there, bodies laying on the ground as people moved back and forth, looking to help, or perhaps searching for loved ones.
Eventually something was pressed against his hand and he felt a sensation like a hook behind his navel as the world around him dissolved into a spinning chaos. Luckily, before he could vomit, he lost consciousness, gratefully allowing the blackness to wash over him.
