HARRY POTTER
AND THE DEATH EATER MENACE

Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

CHAPTER 21: Chaos in Hogsmeade (pt 2)

12:12 p.m.
The Streets of Hogsmeade

James ran as fast as he could towards the explosion. It helped that Mad-Eye Moody had graciously yelled out the target location loud enough to be heard across town. While he and Moody had parted on bad terms, he still had enormous respect for the grizzled old veteran and he hoped the man would be along soon to assist. While James had insisted on an Auror Corps presence today, he had not been able to assign as many as he'd wanted. In addition to himself and Moody (who technically didn't count), there were only seven other aurors in the village: Gawain Robards, Kingsley Shacklebolt, young Michael Proudfoot, and four trainees in their last year at the Academy who were mainly here for field training. Oh, and the Tonks girl was here somewhere. Hopefully that would be enough.

Unfortunately, those hopes soon seemed to be in vain. As he turned the corner onto Wizarding Way, the street that ran in front of the Hogsmeade Post Office, James was dismayed to see that the attackers looked to be over a dozen people in Death Eater uniforms and masks. All except for one – the leader who seemed eager to show off his face. Apparently, Sirius Black was just as arrogant and cocky as he'd been back at school.

There was no sign of either Robards or Moody, but Shack seemed to have taken command of the defense with Proudfoot and two of the trainees standing together behind a hastily conjured barrier that seemed in imminent danger of collapse under the Death Eater onslaught. Potter grimaced as he saw that the other two trainees were down, and from here, he couldn't tell whether they were even still alive.

There was a flash of green light, and James had to dive for cover behind a fruit and vegetable stand. He ducked his head up and fumed as he realized that it was Sirius who fired the Killing Curse at him. The bastard! Luckily, the stand had survived the spell – James was a Transfiguration specialist, and fruits and vegetables gave him a lot to work with. With a deft flick of his wand, all the apples, pears, tomatoes and other items in the cart suddenly transformed into huge wasps as big as a man's hand, and at his command, they flew out of the cart and began swarming over the Death Eaters.

Then, with a second flick, the entire empty cart itself transfigured into a large brass bull which instantly charged straight for Sirius Black. Those Death Eaters not distracted by the wasps sent cutting curses towards the bull, but they all bounced off its metal hide. But then, to James's surprise, Sirius Black jumped over the bull, firing off a Blasting Curse at James while in mid-air. The auror only barely jumped to safety, and even then, the concussive forced threw him about twenty feet. Shacklebolt summoned him to the barricade which was starting to crumble under the assault. Shaking off the impact of the explosion, James touched his wand to it, and the barricade quickly repaired itself and became even more durable. On the other side, over half the Death Eaters were still batting off wasps and the brass bull was circling around for another attack. As James considered what spell to cast next, he was distracted by a loud pop and then surprised by its point of origin – up in the sky above the Dark Mark that loomed over the town.

As Remus approached the ward line at Hogwarts, he could clearly see the Dark Mark in the sky. A veteran of the last Wizarding War, he knew all too well about the Dark Mark and some of its properties. In particular, there was now most likely an anti-apparition and anti-portkey jinx over Hogsmeade. But Remus also knew that the jinx extended out and down from the Mark in a cone-like shape. The jinx was probably not in affect in the airspace above it. That gave Remus an option, albeit a dangerous one. As soon as he hit the ward line, the werewolf apparated -

- and materialized in the air above the Dark Mark and about fifty feet over the rooftop of Tomes & Scrolls. Surviving the fall unscathed might have been challenging even for a werewolf but not for a werewolf who was also a 99th degree master of the Path of Air. As he started his fall, Remus extended his arms straight out, stiffened his legs, and allowed himself to spin around in mid-air like a top. The magic of his Wu Xi Do technique slowed his rate of fall so that he dropped almost gently to the rooftop. On his way down, he made note of the position of the Death Eaters in the street below. And especially, the position of Sirius Black. He pulled out his wand and stepped back into the opening kata for the Tiger Pounces and Rolls Technique, and then he ran for the edge of the rooftop.

With a mighty leap, Remus jumped off the two-story building to land feet first on the shoulders of one of the Death Eaters, knocking him to the ground and dislocating both his arms. Then, Lupin flipped off the man into a roll that carried him five feet away to the next nearest Death Eater, who he knocked to the ground with a leg sweep before stunning him with his wand. Finally, he jumped up into a sprint, parrying incoming spells as he ran directly towards his old friend turned enemy. Along the way, he got off a Depulso that hurled one of the Death Eaters straight into the path of James's charging brass bull. When Remus was less than ten feet away from his target, he made an incredible leap that put him into position for a jumping side kick to Sirius's head. He struck the Death Eater so hard the man did a back flip to land on his stomach, seemingly stunned.

Unfortunately, the operative word was "seemingly." As Remus went to apprehend Sirius, the other man suddenly jumped up and slashed at Remus hard enough to rip his shirt and, worse, to make him lose his wand. Sirius himself had apparently abandoned his own wand in favor of his other more natural weapons. Or perhaps lupine rage gave him no choice, for the man now had the jet-black eyes, pronounced fangs, and deadly claws of a partially-transformed werewolf! Lupin's eyes narrowed, and he inhaled briefly to take in the other man's scent.

"You're not Sirius!" he growled.

"You're a dead man, whoever you are!" the imposter said as he lunged towards Remus. Remus snorted. As if he didn't have enough clues, the man's refusal to make the trademark Sirius/Serious joke clinched the deal.

The other werewolf slashed again with his right hand, but Remus was ready now. He caught the arm easily with his left hand and then struck with his right at a pressure point on the werewolf's upper arm. The man howled in pain and his right arm fell limp and paralyzed. Then, for good measure, Remus stepped forward and peppered the other werewolf with a flurry of body blows, each of which struck additional chi points on his body. The false Sirius dropped to his knees, barely conscious. Finally, Remus pulled back his hand into a claw-like shape and focused his attention on the other man's heart. But then, he hesitated.

"No," he thought. "I might be willing to damage my very soul to strike down the real Sirius Black. But not this pale imitation." Instead of the Eagle Talon Claims The Heart Technique, Remus pulled his hand into a fist with the first and second fingers extended straight. In a quick serpentine movement, he poked the other man sharply in the forehead. Immediately, the imposter's eyes rolled back up in his head, and he fell over unconscious.

Needless to say, their leader being taken down so casually was fatal to the morale of his followers, and at a yelled command, the remaining Death Eaters apparated away (for the Dark Mark was designed to allow Death Eaters to pass through its wards). Immediately, James Potter ran forward, directing his men to secure the few Death Eaters still on hand and to begin triage for the wounded.

"And someone get me a Dementor here to deal with Sirius Black for good!" he barked. Remus turned to regard him coolly.

"I would reconsider that order, Chief Auror Potter. You should keep this one intact until he can be interrogated to see what he knows."

"We can get all we need from his followers, and there's a Kiss on sight order for all the Azkaban escapees ... whoever you are."

The corner of Remus's lips rose in faint amusement. "I am Malachi Sturgeon, the new Caretaker for Hogwarts. And the Kiss on sight order for Sirius Black is irrelevant ... since this man is not Sirius Black!"

"What?!" James exclaimed.

"Observe," the Caretaker said calmly. "Ignoring the fact that he looks far too young to have spent the last twelve years in Azkaban, this man plainly shows signs of being a partially-transformed werewolf. Even if Sirius Black had contracted lycanthropy since his escape, two months is not nearly enough time to master a partial transformation." He knelt down over the unconscious man and rifled through his pockets before withdrawing a vial and sniffing it.

"And here is your answer. Polyjuice potion! Presumably using one of Black's hairs as a base."

"And an old hair, for some reason," Remus thought to himself. "Before he revealed his werewolf traits, he looked like Sirius from not long after our school days. Strange." He said none of that to James however, since he assumed his former friend would find both his presence and his skills suspicious enough. An assumption James immediately proved true.

"You're very knowledgeable for a caretaker, Mr. Sturgeon," James said cautiously.

Remus shrugged. "The Headmaster apparently saw the need for someone with better credentials when replacing Mr. Filch."

"Not to mention rather powerful and unusual fighting skills. Do you have anything to say about that, Mr. Sturgeon?"

Remus stood and regarded his ex-friend without emotion. "Only that Albus Dumbledore will reassure you that I have his full confidence. And as I have already summoned him via Patronus, he can answer ... your ..."

The man's voice trailed off as he stared past Potter at something in the distance. Potter turned as well. It looked as though there were several people engaged in aerial combat about a mile away. It was too far for him to recognize who was involved, but Remus's eyes were much sharper. Then, both men flinched as there was a loud boom from a Blasting Curse that knocked two of the flyers off their broom. Remus's eyes widened in horror.

"Who is that?" James asked in confusion before turning around sharply as the Caretaker practically growled at him.

"I believe, Chief Auror Potter," he spat with an anger that surprised the man, "that it is your son ... falling to his death!"

12:13 p.m.
Near the Three Broomsticks

Lily ran back towards the Three Broomsticks, herding students back towards Hogwarts as she went. She made it back to Madam Rosmerta's tavern in time to see Harry's departure ... and scream at the sight of his pursuers.

It seemed as though Harry and some girl (it was too far to say who) were flying off with three men – no, three werewolves! – in pursuit. And she was sure the one in the lead was Fenrir Greyback! She aimed her wand in a fury and screamed out her strongest blasting curse, but the brooms were too fast and her spell went wide. Frustrated, she looked around for someone who might be able to help. The windows of Quality Quidditch had been blasted in, but she was hopeless on a broom. Then, up ahead, she saw movement ... and froze.

The deserted street in front of the Three Broomsticks had been full of a strange fog that was quickly lifting, but through it, she could make out the figure of a large man who stepped out of the bar and aimed a wand at her. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Instantly, she hurled herself to the ground and took aim at her attacker. The fog had cleared enough for her to see that it was another partially-transformed werewolf.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" There was a flash of light, and the man's wand went flying. Then, he snarled in a fury, and he took off towards her in a run with his claws extended. Lily's eyes narrowed angrily. Without a wand, a werewolf could still hurt her if it got close enough, but she had a spell for that. "LEVICORPUS!" Another flash of light struck the werewolf, and suddenly, he was flipped upside down and hanging from mid-air by one ankle. Lily got up and ran for the inn, summoning the werewolf's wand as she went.

As she drew closer to the door, she could hear screams coming from inside and the sound of someone – Madam Rosmerta, she thought – begging for mercy. Lily stepped into the common room with her wand already drawn, and when she saw that there were two more werewolves threatening their hostages while they argued what to do next, she didn't hesitate. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" At once, a silvery fog blasted from her wand to quickly resolve into the form of a beautiful translucent doe. It danced and capered in front of the two werewolves, and for a moment, they seemed entranced by its moonsilver color ... right up until the moment the doe reared up on its hind legs and kicked one of the werewolves in the forehead with its front hooves. The werewolf screamed and fell backwards, his forehead smoking slightly.

The second werewolf came out of the entranced state then and angrily pointed his wand towards Lily. But before he could fire, another voice called out. "STUPEFY!" It was Gregory Goyle who had made his way down the staircase to shoot the werewolf from behind. His spell had no effect on the werewolf except to annoy him, but it was enough to cause a distraction.

"LANGLOCK!" Lily called out, and a purple bolt struck the werewolf just as he pointed his wand again.

"AVADA GAADEEEGAAH!" he gargled as his tongue was suddenly stuck to the roof of his mouth. For good measure, Lily sent two more Levicorpus spells, and the tongue-tied werewolf and his companion were both hanging from their ankles. A second later, she had them disarmed for good measure. Over on the staircase landing, Greg Goyle was looking at her in something approaching awe. She ignored him and looked towards the ruined fireplace, cursing as she noticed its condition.

"Dammit! We need to get help! My son Harry is on the run from three other werewolves!"

"Is Amy with him?" Greg asked urgently. Lily turned to look at him in surprise.

"Who?" she inquired before the sound of an explosion distracted her from further inquiry.

12:15 pm
The Tonks Clinic

Then, the face inhaled, as if drawing a deep breath. Instinctively, the children leaped out of the way as a gout of fire blasted across the room. Hermione was on one side where she'd managed to pull a semi-conscious Ted away from the spreading hellfire. Ron and Theo were on the other, with the fire on one side and the seemingly impenetrable door, window and wall (which was now covered in burning words that condemned Theo as an Outcast). And then, as if things couldn't get any worse, the curtains on either side of the window burst into green flames as well.

"WE'RE COMING FOR YOU, AND WE'RE GOING TO BURN YOU ALIVE!"

Once Hermione had Ted a reasonably safe distance from the flames, she turned back to the wall of green flames. Her face paled in terror at the daemonic faces that seemed to flicker in and out of the unholy fire. She raised her wand in a quivering hand. "AGUA...!"

"NOOOOO!" Theo screamed out, interrupting her incantation. "That won't work! Only a few spells can work on Fiendfyre! And any other magic besides those will just feed the flames!"

Ron looked at Theo in surprise. "How do you know so much about Fiendfyre?!"

Theo grimaced. "My dad – ex-dad – was a Death Eater. You pick stuff up."

"Uh-huh. So what does work on Fiendfyre?"

"Nothing we could possibly cast as Third Years, but a barrier that's flame resistant can slow it down ... well, a little anyway." He yelled to Hermione on the other side of the barrier. "Hermione! Start dousing that couch on your side with Aguamenti, and then freeze it with a Glacius!"

The girl nodded quickly and began soaking the couch.

"So what, toss it onto the fire and the climb over it before it ignites?" Ron asked.

"It's the only idea I've got," Theo replied as he wiped pouring sweat from his brow. Breathing was becoming difficult for both boys. "It would take a lot of luck, but a miracle's the only way we're surviving anyway. Honestly, I don't know why we haven't been incinerated already. It's like the fire is ... deliberately taking its time. Like it wants to slow-cook us instead of just burn us up fast."

He glanced the room as more threats against him – "DIE, OUTCAST, DIE!" – were still burning their way into the very walls.

"And also screw with my head, apparently. It doesn't look like there's anyone controlling the fire, so if it was just summoned and released, it should have taken out half the town by now."

"Cheery thought," Ron muttered as he undid the top button of his shirt, which was already drenched in sweat. "So it's probably too risky to climb over it even with a frozen couch on top of it." Theo nodded dejectedly. Ron closed his eyes in concentration.

"Water flows around," he whispered to himself. Then, his eyes popped open, and with a swift wand movement, he levitated a nearby bookcase over near the wall opposite the fireplace as close to the raging fire as he could without it igniting.

"Hermione!" he yelled. "When I give signal, levitate the couch and drop it on top of the fire right there!" He pointed towards where the fire met the wall, near where the bookshelf was waiting.

"So do we have a plan?" Theo asked, who was beginning to grow dizzy from the heat.

"More of a crazy gamble. Did Mr. Sturgeon ever teach you the Wave Crashes Against the Cliff Technique?"

"Yeah. I tried it once. I ended up landing on my head."

"Well, I reckon here's your chance to do it better," Ron said before yelling to Hermione. "NOW!"

Hermione flicked her wand, and the sodden and frozen couch flipped over and landed against the wall, temporarily suppressing the flames underneath. Simultaneously, Ron dropped the bookshelf so that it was leaning at an angle against the wall next to the couch. Instantly, Ron took off running for the bookshelf with Theo close behind. The two boys ran up the inclined bookshelf and then, at the top, kicked off against the wall to side flip over the couch. Theo didn't execute the move as gracefully as Ron did, but he did make it successfully to the other side of the couch before it burst into flames. The two boys quickly joined Hermione and the barely-conscious Ted.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this stuff," Theo murmured in surprise.

Hermione stared at the boys in amazement. "What? How? What?" she stammered.

"Wave Crashes Against the Cliff Technique," Ron said, as if that answered any of the girl's questions. "So now that we're all together, what do we do?"

There was a terrible growl behind them as the Fiendfyre consumed the couch and then started spreading slowly across the wall in their direction. Then, a second bestial roar echoed through the house, as the kitchen area also caught fire independently.

"So much for the back door," Theo said with asperity. "Up the stairs!"

With no other options, the three children (and the levitated delirious Ted Tonks) headed up to the second floor, with the mocking laughter of the demonic flames following behind as if in deliberate pursuit.

12: 19 p.m.
Outside the Tonks Clinic

Robards managed to throw the witch off, but to his horror, there were now dozens of people chanting the word "Outcast" with a terrifying intensity. Not everyone nearby seemed to be affected, but those that were immediately turned on those who were not. He managed to stun three villagers before he was knocked to the ground, his wand sent flying. Then, the maddened villagers dog-piled him, punching and kicking him as they went.

Suddenly ...

"FLIPPENDO!" cried two voices in unison, and Auror Robards was both startled and relieved when his attackers went flying away. He scrambled to his feet and limped towards his saviors, summoning his wand back with one hand while wiping blood off his face with the other. To his surprise, it was two young people: a girl and a young man. He thought he recognized the female.

"Rossum, right?" he asked. "One of the new trainees?"

"Yes sir," Emily said crisply. "And this is my ... friend, Marcus Flint." Flint nodded respectfully to the Auror.

"Well, thanks for the assistance," Robards said as he cast a Flipping Hex of his own to knock back the advancing villagers. "But how are you with Shield Charms?"

"I know all the Protego series Charms, sir," Emily said as she sent a few Stunners into the crowd.

"I, um, know the basic spell, but I can't hold them for very long," Marcus stammered.

"Well do the best you can then," the auror said. "Target them overlapping right there!" He pointed to a spot on the ground just a few feet in front of them. "Now!"

Emily and Marcus each cast their strongest shield spells as directed. Then, Robards took a deep breath and flicked his own wand madly at the shield. "PROTEGO MAXIMA. FIANTO DURI. REPELLO INIMICUM." Suddenly, Marcus's wand started vibrating, and it seemed to give off a mild electric shock, as the small shield he and Emily had cast together shuddered, expanded, and then wrapped itself around the mob, creating a ten-foot-tall wall of force that contained the rampaging villagers. But the strain was great for a single wizard, and Gawain's knees buckled, though Marcus caught him before he fell.

"Thanks, lad. That ... takes a lot out of you. Should give us a few minutes though."

"So what now, sir?" Emily asked anxiously.

"Now? You two get to play catch." With that, Auror Robards bent down and touched his wand to the ground. Instantly, the earth beneath him rose up to form a tower of stone high enough to give him a view of the whole street ... and a clear shot those villagers who seemed unaffected by the strange madness and thus had become victims for those who were under its sway.

"ACCIO WOMAN IN BLUE ROBES! ACCIO OLD MAN IN KILT! ACCIO BOY AND GIRL WHO CLIMBED THE TREE FOR SAFETY!"

In response to each spell, another person was yanked out of the enclosure and flew away from the mob through the air towards Robards only to get caught by a Levitation Charm from either Emily or Marcus and lowered safely to the ground. By this point, a few dozen of the rage-maddened villagers were now rushing the Protego shield and violently hurling themselves at it out of a desire to harm those on the other side who were unaffected. And all the while, they kept screaming hysterically: "OUTCAST! OUTCAST!"

Suddenly, a familiar voice drew the auror's attention. It was Alastor Moody, followed close behind by his former pupil, Nymphadora Tonks.

"ROBARDS!" bellowed the former auror. "I ordered every auror to the Post Office which is under attack by Death Eaters! What the hell is going on here?! Report!"

"Dammit, Alastor!" Robards replied irritably. "You're retired! I don't have to give you reports anymore, let alone follow your orders!"

"No, but you will anyway. You'll have enough sense to do what I say because you'll realize I'm probably right. Now what's going on?"

Robards rolled his eyes at the old man's (usually justifiable) arrogance. "Some kind of psychomagical effect emanating from the Tonks Clinic! I was actually on my way to the Post Office when it went off. It's causing some kind of violent madness among the affected townspeople!"

"What?!" Nymphadora gasped at that news while her mentor surveyed the street.

"But not all of them, I see," Moody replied thoughtfully. As he spoke, he withdrew his wand into its holster and then pulled a small wooden rod from an inside pocket. It looked vaguely wand-like but was thicker and less delicate. He held the rod up to his lips and whispered something, and suddenly, the rod became a five-foot-long staff covered in obscure runes and markings. As Robards began to sputter, Moody tapped the staff twice times to the ground, and suddenly, he was lifted up on a stone tower that rose out of the earth like the one Robards had transfigured.

"That's ... that's a bloody battle stave!" the auror exclaimed. "There is no way that's legal for a civilian to own!"

Moody barked out a laugh. "Take it up with the Chief Auror. Wonderboy Potter signed off on the paperwork three days before I retired. You should probably be aware that your boss never reads anything that someone he trusts puts in front of him before he sticks his autograph on it."

With that, Moody began to spin the staff around his body in a complicated pattern before finally pointing it towards the center of the enclosure. "SOMNIUM HORRIBILUS!" There was a wave of magical energy that rolled over the raging mob, and almost instantly, the people trapped inside the ward all fell to the ground unconscious. Soon after, the twin pillars bearing Robards and Moody aloft sank back down into the earth while the shield-ward was allowed to dissipate.

"Well, that's one problem solved," Robards said.

"And another one started!" exclaimed Marcus. "Look!" The boy gestured further down the street behind them, where a fist fight had broken out among several citizens outside the wards. And most of them were also yelling "OUTCAST!" at the top of their lungs as well.

"Dammit!" Moody swore. "Whatever it is, it's spreading!"

"Well whatever's causing it seems to be centered on the Tonks Clinic," Robards said as he pointed towards the building that was still illuminated by an eerie light and giant floating runes.

"What the hell is that rune?!" exclaimed Tonks, who only noticed the strange markings floating in the air around her home after Robards' ward had fallen. "My father's still in there!" She advanced towards the clinic only to stagger back in surprise when a set of first floor windows exploded with a blast of green fire.

"Merlin preserve us!" Robards exclaimed in horror. "That's Fiendfyre!"

"NOOO!" Tonks screamed as she started to run towards the door only to be grabbed by Moody and Robards.

"No, girl!" Moody ordered. "You can't rush into a building burning with hellfire! It's suicide!"

"But my father's in there! And Theo was bringing some of his friends over for lunch! They must be trapped inside!"

"It's too late, child!" Robards said solemnly.

"No it's not," Moody answered, his eye whirling madly. "I see four people in there. A man and three children. The man looks hurt, but they're all safe up on the second floor. Well, alive, anyway. Hardly safe though."

Tonks looked at her burning home in panic for a few seconds before she took a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could. "IIII-RISSSS!"

Barely a second later, there was a soft pop as Iris, the Tonks's house elf appeared beside her.

"Miss Dora! You's shouldn't be calling Iris like that! Iris was with the Doctor Mistress Andi who is..." Iris's scolding faded away as she saw what was happening to her master's clinic and home.

"Goodness gracious!" she exclaimed softly.

"Iris," Tonks said urgently. "Dad is still in there! Along with Theo and two of his friends! Can you do anything to help them?"

Iris shook her head fearfully. "Miss Dora, something has been done to the wards. Something evil! Iris does not know if she can pass through!"

Tonks knelt down next to the diminutive creature. "Iris, please. It's ... it's my dad!" she begged with tears in her eyes.

Iris looked up at the girl she'd helped raise since infancy. Then, she closed her eyes and scrunched her face up into a mask of intense concentration. After a few seconds, she gave a gasp of pain and then popped away.

12:20 p.m.
The Ministry of Magic
London

Dumbledore had been in a meeting with Minister Fudge, Barty Crouch Sr., Ludo Bagman and several other notable Ministry officials to discuss details pertaining to security for the following summer's Quiddich World Cup and some other international events to be held at Hogwarts later in the year when he received Remus's Patronus message: "Hogsmeade is under attack and the Dark Mark has been seen!"

Less than a minute later, alarms were sounding throughout the Ministry, and the Auror Corp mobilized only to realize that all floo connection to Hogsmeade had been cut off. To his mounting frustration, Albus realized that he'd wasted too much time trying to provide an alternate route for the assembled aurors. They could not travel directly to Hogsmeade (whether by floo, apparition, or portkey), they could not travel to Hogwarts (because of the castle's on defenses against intruding aurors – a fact that infuriated Fudge), and there were no places near enough to the site of the attack but outside the range of the Dark Mark that anyone knew well enough to allow for portkeys or direct apparation.

"And naturally," Albus thought ruefully, "this would also happen just a few days after Fawkes's last burning day!" Finally, it was decided that a force of a dozen aurors would travel by floo to the Ministry field office in Edinburgh and from there fly disillusioned by broom to Hogwarts, at least half-an-hour's journey. In the meantime, Albus would floo directly back to his office and do what he could. As he passed through into his office, he gave a regretful glance towards his tiny familiar resting on his perch before he was distracted by the sound of some nearby explosion. The Headmaster rushed to the nearest window with a view of Hogsmeade, almost certain that he was already too late to prevent the latest disaster.

12:21 p.m.
Inside the Tonks Clinic

The three children had managed to get Ted Tonks (who was still moaning in delirious agony) up to the second floor landing when the man started convulsing. The heat was unbearable as they made their way into the master bedroom where Ron and Theo laid Ted on the floor and tried to hold him down. On the far wall was a wide double-window behind a heavy king-sized sleigh bed. Hermione tried to blast the window again, this time with the Glass-Shattering Curse, but once more, the window reformed itself instantly.

"What ... what do we do?" said Theo, whose own vision was starting to swim from the terrible heat. From somewhere below, they heard a terrible mocking laughter.

"I ... I'm sorry, Theo," Hermione said despairingly as she looked down at Ted Tonks whose face was a mask of agony. From what little she knew of Fiendfyre, even seemingly minor burns were usually fatal. "I don't ... I don't know what to do next."

Ron grimaced as he and the other two struggled to hold down the Healer who was now writhing in agony. And he couldn't help but think back to the lessons his father had tried to teach him and his siblings all their lives. "Do what's right instead of what's easy," he said softly.

"Eh? What was that?" Theo asked, but Ron ignored him. He looked to Hermione instead.

"Hermione, I'm about to cast a spell. After I do, I want you to count to three. And then, I want you to slap me hard across the face. Okay?"

"What?!" she said in confusion. "Why?"

"Because if you don't, I'll probably die. And then, Jim will kill me." With that oddly paradoxical statement, he pointed his wand towards Ted's burnt and blackened hand.

"SSSSAMSSSSARA," he hissed softly.

When Iris arrived in the living room of what had been her home, she nearly spat in anger. It had been physically painful to pass through the corrupted wards – no elf not attuned to the dwelling could have even done so – but that was nothing compared to seeing the damage done to the interior by the raging (if slow-burning) hellfire. She knew at once that the hellfire was not normal, not even by the standards typically wrought by the Fiendfyre Curse. This fire did not burn with abandon but with intent. It wanted to kill young Theo No-Name but slowly so that it would have time to work its foul business on the good people of Hogsmeade.

And unlike normal Fiendfyre, this version was powered not by the weak hatred of mortal wizards, a hatred sullied by the complexities of the human condition and which was so often indistinct from love. No, this hellfire had been summoned by an invocation of True Hate. The Hate that could only be found in The Other Place. The purest Hate that was a perfect distillation of the urge to hurt, to kill, to annihilate, completely devoid of any other possible emotion or impulse. The Singular Hate. It was a Hate that was not meant for this world.

Aware of the house elf's presence, a huge column of green flame rose up and formed a terrible face that snarled at Iris almost hungrily. She wrinkled her nose at it in contempt and then popped away before it could surge forward to consume her. She was saddened by the loss of what had been her home, but she knew it was beyond saving, and even if it were not so, she had different orders at the moment. Her family needed her.

Theo and Hermione both gasped in shock as Ron touched the now-glowing tip of his wand to Ted's hand. There was a flash of light, and Ted's body went rigid, as did Ron's. Hermione stared in confusion, but then she remembered what Ron had said and slapped him as hard as she could. He fell back and banged his head against the foot of the bed. Ted relaxed. His hand was still burned but no longer unnaturally so, and his convulsions ended. He seemed to be merely unconscious now.

"Whoof! Bloody hell, Hermione! I said slap me, not dislocate my jaw!"

"Sorry," she apologized. "But, um, did you just ... you know?" Beside her, Theo just stared in absolute amazement at the second Gryffindor Parselmouth he'd met.

"Yeah, about that," Ron said uneasily. "I'd appreciate it if you two kept that to yourselves. I mean, if we don't all burn to death in the next few minutes. Anyway, Ted's not in danger of dying. Well, except for Fiendfyre. But I don't know if we should wake him yet."

"You should not," Iris calmly interrupted, though her sudden arrival still caused the three children to jump in fright. "Although your quick action has saved Doctor Master Tonks from death, he is still weak and has entered into a healing coma."

There was a roar from the hallway behind her. Theo wasn't sure, but it sounded almost like some terrible beast had called out his name, and there was a sickly green light that illuminated the corridor as the flames reached up to the second floor. Iris snapped her fingers and the door to the hallway slammed shut. With a second snap, Ted's unconscious body lifted itself off the floor and floated over onto the bed.

"Iris thanks you all for what you done for my master. You are all very special wizardlings. Iris hopes you all know that. Now! Quick like a bunny! All of you get onto the bed with Doctor Master Tonks!"

The three children did as the house elf ordered. Iris snapped her fingers again, and several items summoned from elsewhere in the house landed in Theo's hands: a few healing potions presumably meant for Ted; framed certificates identifying Ted and Andi as Master Healers; and finally a thick scrapbook. On the front of it was a moving photo of a deliriously happy Ted and Andi holding up a newborn babe with pink hair as a happy Iris stood beside them. The words "The Tonks Family - Ted, Andi, Nymphadora, and Iris" floated over their heads.

Then, the bedroom door exploded off its hinges, and all three children screamed in terror. For at the threshold of the room stood a monster. It was a misshapen humanoid, roughly nine feet tall and four feet across, with long arms that ended in wicked talons. And it was made of Fiendfyre.

"BUUUURRRRNN YOU!" it roared as it took a step into the room, simultaneously shattering and igniting the door frame as it forced its way through. Before it could take a another step, Iris snapped her fingers once more, and the bed lifted up into the air. At first, to the children's horror, it flew closer to the fire monster, and they screamed even louder. But even as the creature reached out for Theo No-Name, the bed reversed course and blasted out through the window to crash-land on the street below. Ted and the three children were bumped about somewhat rudely, but the thick mattress absorbed the impact, and they were none the worse for wear from the fall.

Inside the master bedroom, the windows resealed immediately after the bed's departure. The fire creature roared its anger.

"YOU HAVE NOT RESCUED THE OUTCAST, LAR IRIS! YOU HAVE ONLY DRAWN OUT MY HUNT AND MADE ME STRONGER FOR IT!"

The monster turned on Iris and advanced towards her, but the tiny house elf showed no fear. This was not true Fiendfyre, after all. It was a manifestation of True Hate which was fueled not by mortal anger but by the corrupted wards of the clinic, wards that would not survive the destruction of the clinic itself. And as a house elf bonded with this place, destroying the Tonks Clinic was certainly within her power. Alas, she could only do so from within the building itself.

The heat from the approaching creature poured over Iris, but she simply closed her eyes and smiled. She could see it now, the shape of her ending. She had done as Young Mistress Dora had commanded. She had saved the girl's father. She had saved the three little wizardlings who had protected him until she could arrive. She would even save the poor deluded wizards outside who had become enthralled by the power of True Hate. She had done her duty to the last.

She was a good elf.

When the fire demon's hand was less than a foot away, Iris snapped her fingers a final time, and the supporting walls of the Tonks Clinic imploded. From outside, it looked as thought the entire building simply collapsed in on itself. There was a sudden and terrifying surge of green fire that erupted from the ruins that vaguely resembled a giant grasping hand accompanied by a roar of pain and frustrated rage. Then, as swiftly as they'd come, the flames receded and then disappeared, leaving behind nothing but smoldering ruins.

Nymphadora Tonks ran over to the bed that had miraculously survived being flung out of the burning building, with Moody and the others close behind. She saw that the children were fine and that her father was unconscious but alive. Then, she looked around wildly and cried out. "IRIS! IRIS!" There was no sign of her family's house elf. She turned back to Theo, who was still clutching the scrapbook, the only memento of the elf who had been a part of Dora's family since before she was born. Tears rolled down the boy's cheeks.

Their reunion was disrupted by the sound of a terrible explosion from somewhere near Hogwarts. All of them turned to look in that direction, but all they could see were several figures on brooms, two of which seemed to have been knocked off. Only Moody's magical eye could tell who the falling wizards were.

"Potter," he whispered in horror at the sight of the boy he'd practically taken as an apprentice falling to his death.

12:29 p.m.
About 2000 feet high ...

Fenrir snarled as he pointed his wand up in the Firebolt's general direction and bellowed the incantation for a modified Bombarda. The spell shot up past and to the right of Harry and Amy before detonating in a shockwave just as their broom was even with it. The wave of force hit Harry like a wrecking ball and stunned him for an instant before he regained his senses. Immediately, the boy dilated his perceptions – Thump-thump – to take stock of his circumstances.

They weren't good. Now Amy was screaming. She was also about ten feet away from to his left, and the pursuing werewolf had altered course to catch her. His stolen Firebolt was about ten feet to his right but flying away from him in a lazy spiral. His holly and phoenix wand was only five feet in front of him but might as well have been back in his room for all the good that did. And the ground?

That was less than 2000 feet away and closing fast.

Thump-thump – 2000 feet.

As the reality of his dire situation became apparent, Harry was briefly distracted by how calm he felt before realizing that he had instinctively used his Occlumency to temporarily shut down his fear response. Even at his maximum dilation, he guessed he had less than a minute of subjective time to figure something out before he hit the ground, so panic was the last thing he needed. While his wand was spinning farther and farther away, his dilated senses perceived it as doing so relatively slowly, and the rush of air that accompanied his fall was a deceptively gentle but cool breeze. Even the terrified screams of Amy Wilkes were distorted and sounded deep and slow to his ears, like a recording that had been slowed down.

Harry's first and most obvious thought was quickly assessed and just as quickly discarded. While he had a portkey in the form of a toe ring on his right foot, the instructions he'd been given on portkey usage made it very clear how incredibly dangerous it was to use a portkey while falling from any significant height as there was a strong likelihood of materializing halfway through the floor at the destination. Granted, the portkey would take him straight to the St. Mungo's Emergency Ward, but even the healers there wouldn't be able to do much if a large enough chuck of his body was splinched off and landed somewhere on a lower level of the hospital. And anyway, even if the portkey wasn't instantly fatal, using it at this point meant leaving Amy Wilkes to whatever fate Greyback intended for her, something Harry refused to even consider.

His next thought was to summon his wand wandlessly. Granted, his previous attempts to do so had resulted in hundreds of failed attempts without a single quiver of motion from the wand. Of course, being in fear for his life might give Harry the impetus to finally succeed, but he would need to end the dilation to attempt it. Since he would likely only have a single chance to summon the wand before the splat, he chose to wait before making one last all-or-nothing attempt. In the meantime, mindful of what Alastor Moody had said earlier, Harry opened up a secondary thought-stream dedicated to remembering everything he could about the Summoning Charm while his first mind worked on other options.

"Okay," he thought quickly but not quite frantically, "time for a quick brain-storming session. I can't use any spells I know without a wand. So what else is there? Apparition? I did apparently do that once a few years ago with accidental magic. But usually accidental magic stops happening after you get a wand. Something Lucius said last May about how letting a wand choose you represents a magical promise to only use magic in the proper manner. I guess it might kick in since it's a life-or-death situation, but it's hardly something I can realistically hope for, let alone actively make happen. And it still has the problem of leaving Amy to the werewolves!"

Thump-thump – 1800 feet.

Harry frowned mentally at the sensation of his heart beating slowly but not near slowly enough under the circumstances, a constant reminder of how little time he had to pull off a miracle.

"Focus, Potter!" he thought furiously. "What else can you do without a wand? The animagus transformation doesn't require a wand does it? No that's stupid. It takes years to learn to be an animagus. Well, unless you're a million-to-one freak of nature that can do it on the first try, but since nothing in your entire life has ever suggested that you're a natural animagus, it's kind of silly to think you're just going to learn how in the next six seconds! And anyway, there's absolutely no reason to think your hypothetical animagus form is even something that could fly!"

Frustrated that the "brainstorming session" had come to an end without any useful ideas, Harry was further dismayed by how slow his secondary thought-stream was in reviewing his collection of Accio Wand memories. At the current rate of review, it might take hours to recall every one of those memories. Morbidly, he wondered if some part of him in the afterlife might be stuck thinking about the Summoning Charm even after he was dead. In desperation, he opened up a third thought-stream dedicated to wandless magic in hopes that it might double the rate of his memory review. To his pleasant surprise, it did not. Rather, if anything, it seemed to square it, and for a brief instant, Harry nearly lost the dilation as his mind reeled under the onslaught of memories, not just of his prior efforts at wandless casting but of everything he'd ever been told on the subject.

Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand.
Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand.

"Learning to cast a spell wandlessly requires you to link one of these spells directly to your core with
a psychic strand that represents the sum total of your experience with casting that particular spell."

Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand.
Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand.

"Even if you should one day master wandless magic in some form, it will still be based
on your sense memory of casting the same spells with a wand in your hand."

Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand.
Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand. Accio wand.

Thump-thump – 1600 feet.

As the ground grew nearer, a mad and desperate idea began to form. Thus far, Harry had never even attempted to maintain more than three sub-brains at once. He'd never had need to, the prospect seemed too daunting, and perhaps most importantly, Snape had indicated that it would be highly painful and possibly physically dangerous. But in the grand scheme of things, Harry reckoned that it couldn't possibly be more painful and dangerous than falling to his death from a great height. So he braced himself and opened a fourth channel. It actually wasn't as painful as he'd expected, though it did trigger perhaps the worst ice cream headache he'd ever experienced. Prepared for the pain, Harry held onto his dilation, and with his newest thought-stream, he focused on the arithmantic and runic implications of the Summoning Charm.

Accio wand.
Two words. Nine letters total. Late Etruscan-Early Roman origin.
Accio. Five letters. Three syllables. Latin root. Wand. Four letters. One word.
Derived from speaker's native tongue. Accio wand. Base wand pattern of seven
Akkadian cuneiform symbols. Arithmantic summation of 2.9/5.3./4.1/7 = 31.
Accio wand.

Even with four active minds, Harry still did not feel that he was ready to try a last ditch summoning attempt, and yet, he hesitated to open a fifth thought-stream. For one thing, it seemed presumptuous that a thirteen-year-old boy who'd been studying Occlumency for less than three years might try matching a feat that (as far as Snape knew) had only ever been attempted by the legendary Werner Von Mises. For another, the experience had apparently been so painful and debilitating to Von Mises that he never tried it again.

Thump-thump – 1400 feet.

Then again, as far as the boy knew, Von Mises had never been as motivated to push the boundaries of the psychic arts as Harry was right now. The Slytherin's heart had already beat five times. Seven full beats would be just as fatal as hitting the ground or having an Occlumency-triggered aneurysm while en route. No one was close enough to save him. And no one else was close enough to save Amy before the werewolf grabbed her and apparated away to whatever fate awaited her. Harry summoned up his Gryffindor side. He would do the impossible and learn to summon his wand in the next few seconds or he would die knowing he'd done all he could. With that cheery thought, he steeled himself for the pain Snape had warned of and opened up a fifth thought-stream.

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"

It was so much worse than he'd expected. It really did feel like someone was stabbing him in the back of the head with an red-hot icepick. Only through a supreme act of willpower was Harry able to maintain both his dilation and his multiple thought-streams as virtually everything he knew about the Summoning Charm and wandless magic in general roared through his head like a typhoon.

acowandacciowandacciowand2.9/5.3./4.1=31acciowandacciowand elevenincheshollyphoenixfeatheracciowandacciowandacciowand psychicstrandsconnectcoretospellacciowandacciowandacciowand Akkadianrunesacciowandacciowandsensememoryacciowand
curiousmisterpotterverycuriousindeedacciowandacciowandacciowand amyisscreaminggottosavehermadeapromiseacciowandacciowand sevenisthemostpowerfulmagicalnumberacciowandacciowand

To Harry's sudden alarm, there were now three wands spinning in the air in front of him, and he was terribly confused as to where the other two came from until he realized that it was simply blurred vision. He also detected a strong scent of copper in the air and suspected that if he lived long enough to release his dilation, his nose would start bleeding profusely. "One problem at a time," he thought as he prepared to go where Von Mises himself had feared to tread.

Thump-thump – 1200 feet.

Harry opened a sixth thought-stream and then screamed within his mind. When he was older and had actually been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse, he would nevertheless believe in absolute seriousness that it had not been quite as bad as having six brains operating simultaneously, all of them shouting random memories and facts relating to the Summoning Charm in his head. The only description of the experience he could articulate was that it felt as if his brain had somehow caught fire within his skull. A shudder passed through his entire body, and Harry suspected that if he had not been dilating, that shudder would instead have been a violent full-body spasm or possibly some kind of fit.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc
ccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

Thump-thump – 1000 feet.

Afraid he would drop the dilation because of the pain if he hesitated any longer (or that the dilation itself would kill him), Harry pressed forward and opened up one final thought-stream: a seventh mind, seven being the most powerful number in Arithmancy. And just like that, the pain suddenly ... stopped. Indeed, all sensation stopped. Amy was gone. The broom was gone. The werewolves were gone. The world was gone. Every possible distraction was gone. As far as the boy could tell, even his own physical body was gone, though his mind, his sense of self multiplied by seven, remained. The entire universe shrank until it was just the four of them. Harry Potter and his wand and the two words that connected them together. And in that instant, Harry Potter knew the spell.

He. Knew. It.

Thump-... – 800 feet.

Harry released the dilation at the last second before it could kill him, and the world resumed its normal pace. He also ended the partitioning of his mind, and the seven thought-streams collapsed down to one. The boy focused all of his attention on his wand, and with utter serenity and immaculate precision, he thought two words.

accio wand

Instantly, the wand snapped into his waiting hand so forcefully that it stung, and for a brief horrifying instant, he almost dropped it again. Instead, he grasped it tightly and whirled his body around in mid-air, screaming out incantations as he did. "ACCIO FIREBOLT! ACCIO AMY WILKES!" By now, the Firebolt was more than 100 feet away when it suddenly froze before rocketing back towards him. Amy was closer, and the girl was yanked away from the werewolf barely a second before he could grab her. With a well-practiced flick of his wrist, Harry retracted his wand into its holster so that he could catch her with both arms. With some difficulty, he managed to turn her around so that she was grabbing him around the neck as if holding onto a life preserver. At no point, did the girl stop screaming in mortal terror. To Harry, the world was an agonizing blur, but he could still sense the general direction of everything around him – the Firebolt, the werewolf, the ground. Legilimency, he assumed.

600 feet

Harry shifted Amy with his left arm while reaching out with his right to snag the summoned Firebolt. Bringing the broom in close, he held it against Amy's back so that he put both hands on the shaft. The impact of the broom caused the two children to start spinning wildly in the air as they fell, and on one rotation, Harry noticed that the pursuing werewolf was now speeding towards them, presumably bent on snatching Amy out of his arms before they crashed. Desperately, he tried to maneuver the broom so he could mount it in mid-air.

300 feet

After a mad scramble, he finally had the broom properly between his legs. When the pursuer was less than a foot away, Harry kicked the Firebolt into motion, heading straight for the ground. He and Amy were still in a freefall and now accelerating, but at least they were no longer tumbling and were a little bit farther away from the werewolf.

100 feet

Harry grit his teeth and grasped the handle with both hands as tightly as he could, and with a furious bellow, he wrenched it up with all his might. At less than ten feet from impact, he finally had the broom horizontal to the ground. And just like that, Randolph Spudmore's Redistributed Gravity Charm lived up to its name and reputation as the Firebolt converted Harry's (literally) terminal velocity into horizontal thrust and the broom shot off towards the Forbidden Forest. Now, Amy and Harry were both screaming, the latter because he now realized he would have to navigate through the thick and deadly forest despite having extremely blurred vision and being on the verge of passing out. Briefly, they were joined by a third, deeper scream that was abruptly cut short as the pursuing werewolf slammed into the ground at almost 100 miles per hour. As Harry and Amy entered the woods, the two remaining werewolves watched slack-jawed.

A beat passed before Stavros finally blurted out what was on Fenrir's mind as well. "Who the hell is this kid?!"

At that, Greyback finally shook off his amazement and snarled. "After him, you fool!" The two remaining werewolves rocketed towards the forest in pursuit.

Seconds later, Harry was still trying to navigate his way through the Forbidden Forest toward Hogwarts. Amy had finally stopped screaming and had released her death grip on Harry, but she was still obviously terrified. She did however let out a brief shriek when spellfire shattered a branch just a few feet away from them. Harry hissed in anger and sped up as much as he dared.

"Why aren't we going faster?!" Amy exclaimed.

"B-because we ... we're s-still in the w-wrong g-g-gear for carrying a p-passenger," he stammered even as he jerked the broom down to duck under a low-hanging branch just before it shattered from the werewolves' attack. "Also ... I th-think I hurt m'brain."

At that, Amy finally took a good look at the boy who'd saved her and was shocked at his appearance. Harry was deathly pale and shaking violently. There was blood covering the bottom of his face from a nosebleed, and his eyes were glassy, unfocused, and so bloodshot that they were practically crimson. She couldn't imagine how he was even keeping the broom up at all, let alone dodging spells and tree limbs at the same time. Amy looked around wildly before sticking her arm out to point off to the left.

"THAT WAY!" she ordered even as more spells flew past them. At this point, Harry was too exhausted and pained to even argue, and the broom veered sharply off to the left with the werewolves in pursuit. Ten seconds later, Harry suddenly regretted blindly following Amy's directions when he had to quickly jerk the broomstick up to fly over a thick net of spider webbing. As he proceeded into a region that was increasingly thick with such webs, his eyes widened in horror.

"That was ...! Wha ...! This is the way to the ACROMANTULA COLONY!" he bellowed.

"I KNOW!" replied Amy as she shifted her grip on Harry while drawing out her own wand.

"WHY ARE WE GOING INTO THE ACROMANTULA COLONY?!"

"BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW ANY SPELLS THAT CAN HURT WEREWOLVES!" she yelled in response before pointing her wand towards some approaching trees. "ARANIA EXUMAI!"

In response to her incantation and a sharp flick of her wand, a 500-pound acromantula flew out of the tree in an arc over the two to land between them and their pursuers. She fired the same spell off two more times, each with more force and each landing closer to the werewolves. Greyback actually had to swerve to dodge one of them. Finally, on her fourth attempt, the spell struck true. "ARANIA EXUMAI!" An enormous spider nearly five feet in diameter flew through the air to land right on top of Stavros. The werewolf let out a gargling scream as he was knocked off his broom and down to the forest floor. The acromantula that landed on him chittered madly and tried to bite him even as the werewolf tore at the creature with his claws. Soon other acromantulas came out of the brush, drawn by the noise and the smell of fresh prey.

With a furious snarl, Fenrir doubled back, blasted the spider off his packmate's body, and then swooped down to grab Stavros before heading back the way they came. He hoped the younger werewolf would keep his mouth shut when Peter inevitably chewed them both out for somehow losing the primary target to a rescue by the secondary target. If Stavros were to anger Pettigrew enough, it might be less painful for all concerned to have left him for the spiders.

Seconds later, Harry's Firebolt blasted out of the Forest, dipped up to clear Hagrid's hut, and finally came down to what would have been a perfect landing had Harry not finally lost control ... and consciousness. While the two came down at a controlled rate of speed, he blacked out briefly while landing and the two ended up crashing and rolling several feet across the muddy field. Mercifully, they had been going slow enough to avoid injuries, but Harry still looked terrible. Amy quickly pulled herself up, raised her wand, and fired off some fireworks to attract attention and help. Soon, a dozen or so students, including several prefects, were headed their way.

"Harry! Harry!" she exclaimed while shaking the boy. "Are you okay!"

"Fine, fine," he mumbled. "Just ... fried my ... brain-meats." With that he giggled softly at his own joke without even opening his eyes. "Ya'know ... any landin' ya can walk away from 'n all that."

"In case you haven't noticed, you're not walking!" she hissed angrily. "You're a maniac to have done all that!"

"Couldn't be helped," he slurred. "Had'ta save'ya. Made a promise."

The girl shook her head in confusion. "A promise?! Why would you do something that stupid?! And to who?!"

His eyes slowly fluttered open. They still looked blood red, especially against his ghastly pale skin. Despite his awful condition, he gave the girl a dopey grin. "Ken'you keep s-s-s-ecret?" he whispered.

Amy nodded nervously. At Harry's instruction, she bent down and listened to what he whispered in her ear. Then, she jerked back up even as prefects arrived to administer first aid and transport Harry to the Infirmary. As everyone else left, the girl still sat in the mud, watching as Harry Potter was carried off to safety while she absorbed all the shocks the day had brought her.

NEXT: The Aftermath. Harry takes a well-deserved nap - for several days - only to wake up to some unfortunate news. Peter vents his frustrations. Rufus makes a special delivery. Theo and Hermione have a brief encounter in which rabbits are discussed. All this, plus Quidditch and Mayhem Part 3 (Now with added Dementors).

AN1: Special shout-out to all my betas from POS-Editorial channel at the Sinister Man's Discord page - Gabe, akitcougar, jcasto1066, Curt, feauxen, Bob, darkphoenix31, and Flowed. Links to the Sinister Man's Discord page can be found on my Author page. I frequent it regularly, so come and ask questions (that may or may not be answered), get access to early drafts of POS, and talk to other readers to discuss the latest theories and predictions.

AN2: Additionally, links to the POS TV Tropes Page, the POS wiki, and other online sites of interest can be found on my author page, along with a link to my original (non-HP) fiction that can be supported through The Website That Dare Not Be Named.

AN3: The "early view" of the next chapter is tentatively scheduled to go live on my website on August 2, 2018 (password available through Discord). It will be posted here the following Sunday. It's a three-week gap because it was getting difficult to work up updates for both POS and Strangers In Boston (my WIP novel) on the same day. Afterwards, they will (barring disaster) be updated on alternating Thursdays at the website with POS updated here every other Sunday after August 5.

AN4: Thanks and mutual congratulations to all my wonderful fans and supporters. The Discord page has broken 400 followers, but more importantly, POS now has more than 10,000 followers! I honestly never imagined back in 2016 that this would turn into such a thing. I only hope POS continues to bring you all enjoyment.