Chapter 76 – The Chaos

It was almost surreal, Harry decided in later years, when he had had a chance to consider the events of that fateful night. In the company of Sirius and Dumbledore, Harry had made his way to the entrance of the school as quickly as he dared, and yet it had seemed to take hours to traverse that little piece of land which separated their position where they had first encountered Voldemort's forces and the entrance to the courtyard. And yet, Harry knew that it had taken no more than a few short moments as there were no more enemies between them and the school.

The best laid plans of Dumbledore and the Ministry had been foiled, and the tables turned on them, and the struggle to respond to the machinations of Lord Voldemort was difficult. But Harry was certain that the determination of the defenders would prove to be equal to Voldemort's dark intentions—they had to be or all was lost.

Running through Harry's mind during those few moments before they entered the courtyard were thoughts of his two girls—how they had said goodbye mere hours before, and how they had both made him promise to continue on if anything happened to them. A sick feeling of fear had settled in Harry's stomach, and he was frantic with the need to reach them and protect them from the monster masquerading as the Dark Lord. Their lives would become a hell if they were captured—Harry had no illusions as to what Voldemort would do to them should they fall into his hands. The killing of Nagini would only make Voldemort that much more vindictive, despite the fact that he could have no inkling of who had actually done the deed.

They would not fall into the madman's hands—not if Harry had anything to say on the matter. They wanted him to live for them, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to do that. But he also knew that whatever happened, he would give his life defending them if need be. That was what this fight was all about, and he would be selfish in the extreme if he was not willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to ensure that Voldemort could not impose his sick and twisted vision of world order on the populace.

It was much greater than Hermione and Fleur—Harry had always understood that. But now that he was hurtling toward a confrontation with the Dark Lord, it hit him, perhaps much harder than it ever had before. The time was at hand when he would have to face his destiny. He would do it with his head held high and without any regrets that he had not given his all to Voldemort's defeat.

They paused near the courtyard entrance, and Dumbledore went ahead slightly and peered into the large open space. He stood there for a moment, apparently cataloguing what was occurring within its depths while Harry and Sirius waited. While they were thus engaged, several men and women joined their position. Most of the newcomers were people that Harry did not know—presumably they were Aurors—but Bill Weasley and Tonks were among their numbers.

"Never a dull moment, is it, Harry?" Tonks stated as she flashed him a grin.

"I could use a dull moment or two," Harry shot back.

"Where's Remus?" Sirius asked.

Though it was dark and Harry could not precisely see, he thought that Tonks blushed slightly. It did not seem to have escaped Sirius's attention, as he grinned broadly at his cousin, his knowing manner causing her to scowl back at him.

"He was stationed elsewhere during the attack," Bill explained when Tonks did not reply. "I expect he'll be along before long."

Sirius allowed that to pass without comment, as he turned to greet one of those who had just joined them—a young lady that Harry had only met a time or two—Hestia Jones. "Are you all right?" he asked her, concern evident in his voice.

"Right as rain," the woman replied.

And for a moment, Harry was treated to the sight of Sirius Black, confirmed bachelor and ladies' man, taking the slender form of the woman into his arms. Harry gaped at him—he had not heard anything of Sirius being involved with anyone, but it appeared to be so, as the embrace was very familiar. The kiss which followed was anything but a friendly, platonic peck.

Unfortunately, Harry was not able to repay the man for razzing he had endured over the past few months, as it was at that moment that Dumbledore returned from his inspection and approached them.

"You are the first elements to be dispatched here?" he asked Tonks.

The woman nodded. "More are on their way. It shouldn't be long before they get here."

Dumbledore nodded. "Unfortunately, we do not have time to wait for them. Voldemort is attempting to gain control of the school's wards, and we must prevent that at all costs."

Addressing them all, the Headmaster continued, "Elements of Voldemort's forces are beginning to fan out about the courtyard, taking up positions to defend against intrusion. Our best chance is to attack them now before they are able to entrench themselves."

"How did they get in?" Tonks asked.

"I believe that is a question for another time," was Dumbledore's firm reply. "If we can root them out of Hogwarts, there will be time enough for explanations then."

Though she was obviously still curious, Tonks only nodded, seeing the wisdom of the Headmaster's words. The Headmaster was already turning to another Auror who was awaiting orders.

"Go back to the manor and inform Director Shacklebolt and Ambassador Delacour that Voldemort is confirmed to be at Hogwarts, and that he has found a way to bypass the wards. Every man who can be spared should make their way here as quickly as possible. Have them arrive at the gates and begin making their way into the courtyard. I may have some other means to attack the Death Eaters once I am better aware of the situation."

The man bowed and turned to jog back to the edge of the wards, disapparating when he had crossed the boundary. Dumbledore, however, had already turned to those remaining, though several others were joining them every moment that they had waited.

"Now, let us go. If we hit them hard and fast enough, we should be able to push our way into the school to confront Voldemort before he is able to accomplish his goal."

With that, the attacking force turned and fanned out, heading toward the large stone statues which indicated the entrance through the walls to the courtyard. To his side, Harry noted with some amusement that Sirius had taken up a position close to Hestia, and he was attempting to divide his attention, watching for threats to her, while he kept an eye on Harry himself. Harry winked at him—which he did not appeared to find at all amusing—and turned his attention back to the task at hand.

Ahead of Harry, a pair of Aurors took up vanguard positions and dashed between the statues into the courtyard. Within moments of their entrance, cries rose up from the courtyard and a rainbow of flashes lit up the night. The attackers streamed into the courtyard, wands blazing, and when Harry entered, it was to a courtyard already erupting into a pitched battle. Dumbledore stayed close to him, seeming to realize that Sirius was equally concerned with Hestia, and not wishing the man to overextend himself in an effort to protect two. All extraneous thoughts soon melted away, however, in the demands of the moment, as Harry was consumed with the fight.

Several Death Eaters moved to block their way forward and though a couple of them blanched at the sight of Dumbledore bearing down on them, they grimly began to trade attacks—the others either did not realize who they were facing, or they were made of sterner stuff. Harry quickly fell into the rhythm of attacking the Death Eaters with every offensive spell he could think of, dodging here and there, but for the most part trusting that Dumbledore would protect him against any attacks.

The man was a force of nature. His wand was a blur in his hand, and he dealt out punishment upon the attacking Death Eaters, while he managed to keep all attacks—including those of an unforgivable variety—away from them. His shield was impenetrable; his levitation of rocks, chunks of stone broken off in the fight, and anything else at hand, which he used to intercept any and all unforgivables, were all timed impeccably. The display was even more impressive than the one he had made when he had fought Voldemort in the Ministry atrium.

The ebb and flow of the battle largely passed Harry by, intent as he was on striking down those enemies who were placed in his path. But it soon became apparent that even Dumbledore's great prowess was not sufficient to push through the superior numbers of those Death Eaters defending the entrance to the school. In fact, after their initial gains after they had entered the courtyard, the attackers were slowly being pushed back.

"We're never going to make it through at this rate," Sirius's voice rang out from somewhere to Harry's right. "Where are those reinforcements?"

Harry heard a voice answer from somewhere beyond where Sirius was fighting, but he could not make out the words, as he and Dumbledore were confronted by a pair of Death Eaters who approached them, wands blazing.

Dumbledore stepped nimbly to the side, avoiding a cascade of curses, and responded with a wall of flame, which sped toward the pair. The Death Eaters managed to dive to the side to avoid the oncoming destruction, but Harry took the opportunity to respond with a series of banishing, bombardment, and bone shattering hexes, the first of which were avoided, while several of the second found their marks. One of the Death Eaters dropped with a cry, while the other was flung out like a rag doll, tumbling head over heels until he landed among the flagstones of the courtyard, unmoving.

Harry was given no time to consider the fact that he had almost certainly just killed a man—it was not the first time in the melee, and he was aware that it would likely not be the last.

A few more moments of the chaotic conflict, and Harry noticed that they were beginning to gain a little ground against the Death Eaters. After he and Dumbledore had put several more Death Eaters from the fight, they were caught up in a bit of a lull, in which Harry was able to step back, catch his breath slightly, and take stock of the situation.

It was immediately clear that the reason why they were now making progress was the fact that the reinforcements that Sirius had bemoaned a short time before were now arriving, as a steady stream of Aurors were now dashing into the courtyard to engage the foe. The tide of numbers was slowly turning, and the attackers were beginning to push the Death Eaters back, leaving dead and dying in their wake. It was evident that the Death Eaters had paid a price for their defense—many bodies lay about the courtyard, and likely an equal number of wounded or incapacitated.

Of course, the attackers had not emerged unscathed. Sirius appeared to be favoring his left arm, though he was still fighting on grimly, and Hestia, by his side, had a gash above her brow which was bleeding profusely. And though no one that Harry recognized appeared to have lost their lives, few were without injury of some kind. Now that he thought about it, Harry glanced down at his left leg, noting the singed tatters of his pant leg down below the knee, and the pain of a burn which was just making itself known to him.

Harry cast his eyes about to see if there were any other foes to be had, but he and Dumbledore had fallen behind the bulk of the fighting, and were in an area which was largely free of any enemies.

Wanting to reach the Great Hall as soon as possible, Harry moved to join the fray once again, but he was forestalled by Dumbledore's hand on his arm again.

"Wait for a moment, Harry," the Headmaster admonished.

"You there!" he called to several Aurors who had just entered the courtyard and were hurrying to join the battle. "Come here!"

Obediently, they broke off their purpose and approached the Headmaster. Dumbledore, however, had his wand out, summoning several large rocks to the ground in front of him. A flick of his wrist and they had been transfigured into several lengths of rope, which he then changed to portkeys just as quickly.

"Take these and head back outside," Dumbledore instructed. "They will take you to certain points inside Hogwarts. Once you have sufficient numbers manning each of the portkeys, activate them by saying, 'encircle.' Secure the area in which you find yourself, but do not make any further moves until I signal.

"I must stress that you do not attack Voldemort's forces in the entrance hall until I give the signal," the Headmaster continued, while the Aurors were retrieving their portkeys. "I will fire off several cannon blasts to begin the attack. With any luck, we can hit Voldemort's forces from all sides and form a vice around him to prevent escape."

With nods of assent, the Aurors turned and ran from the courtyard carrying their precious burdens. A few Aurors were left without any portkeys to take from the area, so they accompanied Dumbledore and Harry as they once again moved into the fight.

As Harry once again moved to join the attacking forces, he could see that in the intervening moments, the lines had stabilized a little, and though the battle was still a mass of frenzied bodies, the ground the Death Eaters were defending had dwindled to a tight ring around the doors to the entrance hall.

Wading into the battle by the Headmaster's side, Harry once again unleashed a torrent of offensive spells, battering the enemy with every ounce of force he could muster. By his side, the Headmaster's casting was once again akin to a whirlwind as he pushed those defending forces back, and as a few more Aurors streamed into the courtyard and joined the fight, the attackers once again began to push their way forward.

It would be soon. Voldemort was within the entrance hall. The confrontation was at hand.

Within the Great Hall, the defenders were hunkered down behind any cover they could devise, anticipating the time when Voldemort would break through the wards and his forces would flood into the room. It was hopeless—this Hermione knew. There had to be upwards of several hundred Death Eaters congregated in the entrance hall waiting to enter, and there were more throughout the school.

The defenders had not been idle, though; Hermione kept a close eye on the map, and as the Dark Lord's forces moved throughout the school, she had those close by send out patronuses to the club defenders wherever they may be. Thus far it had assisted in keeping them clear of Death Eater traps. Unfortunately, casting a patronus was not a simple matter, and the more they cast it, the more it drained them.

Thus far, Death Eaters had been kept from the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor common rooms, though Hermione knew that they would eventually break through. They had not reached the Hufflepuff or Slytherin common rooms as of yet, due to Fred and George's team which was frustrating them at every turn, fighting a running battle through the halls of Hogwarts. Hermione gave a grim smile at the thought of the horrors the terrible twins were unleashing on the Death Eaters—swamps and crocodiles would likely be the least of their worries, if Hermione was to guess.

"The Dark Lord will soon make you wish you were never born, you and all the other Mudbloods fouling this school with your presence."

Hermione turned and looked at the blond Pureblood, her lip curled with contempt. The boy was trussed up behind some of the tables out of the way, but though Professor Snape had silenced him earlier, the spell had either worn off, or had been cancelled by the professor. The fact that he was essentially at their mercy had deterred Malfoy from taunting Hermione—it seemed like nothing would prevent him from his never ending stream of commentary.

"Considering the number of times you've failed him, I'm sure that meeting will not be pleasant for you either," Hermione returned his jibe.

"I am a Malfoy," was his simple reply. "The Dark Lord knows my worth."

"You are a foolish little boy," Samuel spoke up from his position a little further down the line. "The ages are littered with delusional fools who thought themselves better than others."

"What would you know?" Malfoy jibed. "You are nothing more than a dirty foreigner who shouldn't even be here. It won't be long before you'll wish that you crawled back to wherever you came from."

Samuel snorted at him. "I'll have you know that I can trace my magical lineage back thirty generations. But my worth is defined by my abilities and the fact that I am a sentient being, not by some imaginary scale measured only by who my ancestors were."

"He is distracting us," Professor Snape spoke up from his position a little further down the line. He silenced Malfoy with a lazy wave of his wand. "Just remember one thing, Mr. Malfoy—the Dark Lord does not accept failure well. From anyone!"

Though Malfoy glared, he could not respond, so he appeared to feel that it was not worth it to say words no one would hear. Of course, Hermione thought she could see just a hint of fear in the boy's eyes, but taunting him further concerning the matter was simply not worth the trouble. There were more important things to consider than the likes of Draco Malfoy.

Instead, Hermione turned to the potions professor and studied him for several moments. The man was outwardly calm, but inside he had to be a seething mass of emotions, particularly fear and trepidation. He had worked from the shadows for so long that having his true allegiances known by a man who killed without compunction had to be an unsettling thing.

Sighing, Hermione turned and looked away from the professor, not wishing to provoke his ire. The crashing sound of the assault on the double doors—the meager wards on the Great Hall having long since fallen—indicated the damage Voldemort was doing to the entire structure. It would not be long before he was able to break through them, regardless of how they had been magically infused to prevent such damage.

Turning her attention back down to the map, Hermione scanned the entrance hall once again, noting the position of Voldemort beside the doors, unleashing his considerable might on them. At the same time, the bulk of his forces were also present, presumably for the dual purpose of assaulting the Great Hall, and defending from any incursions into the school should the Ministry discover their ruse. The rest of his forces were spread out, though as yet it did not appear like they had been able to achieve their goal of taking hostages to use against the Ministry. And then out on the grounds, beyond the entrance hall . . .

Hermione's eyes bugged out for a moment as she stared at the map, hoping against hope that her eyes were not deceiving her.

"He's here!" she finally said with a gasp.

"Who's here?" Fleur asked.

"Harry," replied Hermione, pointing at the map. "And Dumbledore and Sirius are with him, and many others besides. They got our message!"

The defenders of the Great Hall all crowded about her for a moment, looking down at the map with renewed hope. Harry and the rest were clearly fighting their way toward the entrance hall with more Aurors joining them every moment, and the defending Death Eaters had been reduced to a ring protecting the outer doors. And even that ring appeared to be under heavy pressure by the Ministry forces. In her concern over Voldemort and the depredations of the Death Eaters, she had apparently missed the fact that the cavalry was on its way.

A glance down at the entrance to the Great Hall showed that Voldemort was still there attempting to breach the walls. It would be a near thing, but she thought it likely that Dumbledore and the Ministry forces could break through and interrupt him before he was able to push his way into the hall.

"We only need to hold out for a few more moments," Hermione continued, allowing a businesslike tone to come over her voice.

She looked up and peered at McGonagall, who was watching the shuddering doors with some concern. They would not last much longer—that much was obvious. But every moment that they withstood the Dark Lord's assault gave Harry and Dumbledore that much more precious time to interrupt him.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed as she moved a little closer. "Is there anything we can do to assist?"

McGonagall shook her head briefly. "Nothing. Every defense in Hogwarts' arsenal has been activated. It's a race to see who wins."

"Can we try to disrupt Voldemort somehow?"

"Only Dumbledore can save us now," Snape replied. "We had best think of what we will do should the Dark Lord not be interrupted before he can complete his entry into the hall."

It was sound advice, Hermione decided. They once again took their positions, speaking in quiet voices about what would happen should the Dark Lord break through. All the while, Hermione silently urged Harry to hurry.

The battle with the Death Eaters and the suits of armor had been a complete rout, as evidenced by the fact that the suits marched from the hall where the initial skirmish had taken place, only moments after the battle had been won. Of course, Ron preferred not to think of exactly how the suits had left the bodies of those Death Eaters behind—the first blow of the battle had been gory enough, and he was relatively certain that none of the other Death Eaters had been left intact either.

It was a fortuitous discovery, however, as he and Lavender had come across them only moments after fleeing the scene, and had been gratified—and relieved!—when the suits had ignored them and continued on into the school, searching out new foes to attack.

Of course, the inanimate soldiers had not escaped unscathed themselves. He had not counted their numbers before the original skirmish, but several of them had burn marks from various spells, and a number had missing limbs which hampered their movements; the ensuing battles had only taken a further toll on their numbers.

For a moment Ron wondered if this same scene was being played out in other areas of the castle—the hall where they had first encountered them was not the only one to house suits of armor, after all. How he wished he could see the map to know exactly what they faced!

"Lee, Katie, you head them off from the right," Ron instructed, sending the indicated club members off. "Angelina, you and Alicia to the left."

Lavender stayed close by him, as she had done ever since their discovery of the Death Eaters, and together they crept, loosely following the column of metal soldiers as they made their way ever closer to the Great Hall. They had met up with several other groups of club members as they had fought their way to where they were, and they had provided support to the suits of armor as they attacked any Death Eater in sight. They were coming close to another group of them—Ron had scouted the area, complete with a disillusionment charm, and they had been gently guiding the suits to the area with the intention of ambushing this group.

A cry went up from in front of them, and the sounds of battle floated to them. Motioning to Lavender, Ron charged ahead, entering a large hall and seeing the spellfire of the Death Eaters impacting the suits of armor, while the inanimate warriors charged forward, their weapons gleaming in the light of the hall.

Taking sight, Ron unleashed a series of curses which signaled to his companions that the time to attack had arrived. The other two groups stepped from other entrances to the hall and began unleashing their spells into the frightened group of Death Eaters, cutting them down without mercy and without quarter. Within a few moments, the suits of armor had dispatched the final Death Eaters, and were beginning to form up to leave the hall once again.

The other four Gryffindors jogged up to Ron and Lavender and greetings were exchanged.

"Are we doing enough damage?" Katie asked somewhat breathlessly.

Ron grimaced. "Probably not," he replied shortly. "We've probably taken out more than thirty Death Eaters, but from what we saw, there are probably several hundred."

"Then we'll just have to keep on whittling them down," said Lee. The seventh year's normally genial countenance was afire with determination and anger at the attacking forces.

"What about this lot?" Alicia asked, motioning toward the suits of armor.

Several more were down and out of commission from the latest fight, though there were still probably upwards of twenty mobile and able to continue. They were even now marching out of the hall and toward the entrance hall, by the shortest route possible. That was likely a place that they did not want to go—Ron expected that the bulk of Voldemort's forces would be there trying to assault the Great Hall, and they were too few to even begin to take on the numbers he suspected that Voldemort had.

But not knowing was the problem, he decided. They needed some information before they could begin to take on Voldemort's forces, if such a thing was even possible.

"Let them go," said Ron. "Looks like they're heading to the entrance hall. I hope they can do some damage to Voldemort, but they're likely to be overwhelmed quickly. I've got a better idea."

Carefully, Ron led his small team out of the hall and toward the entrance hall, but in a more circuitous path than the suits of armor had been taking. The halls in this part of the castle were deserted, and they ran into very few Death Eaters—the ones they did see, they avoided assiduously.

"Where are we going?" Lavender asked him at one point as they made their way through the halls.

"We need to find out what Voldemort is doing. I know of a place where we should be able to observe them, yet still stay out of sight."

That seemed to satisfy her for the moment, and they continued on in silence. Within only a few minutes, they had arrived at their destination. It was a small room above the entrance hall, with a parapet on one side which allowed one to look out over the hall. It also had the benefit of not being used much, and as such, was overlooked by most. Ron knew about it because he had passed through it on one of his adventures with Harry.

"We're very close to Voldemort's forces, so be very careful," he whispered to them, before he turned and made his way to the stone half-wall.

Looking out over the entrance hall, he felt a sick feeling come into his stomach. The hall was literally teeming with Death Eaters, some milling about, others entering and exiting through the various exits to other parts of the castle. A sizeable force was gathered in a semicircle about the large double doors leading into the Great Hall, and in their midst stood the unmistakable hairless form of Voldemort. They were almost through.

Looking to the other end, Ron could see that there was a commotion about the main entrance to the castle, and it appeared that heavy fighting was occurring through the doors and out into the courtyard. He could only pray that it was Harry and Dumbledore returning to the castle.

On the far side of the entrance hall, Ron could see what looked like a swamp, and he grinned and pointed the sight out to his companions. Fred and George had obviously been at work. He could see within its murky depths several places where submerged logs with eyes attached to them appeared to be watching the proceedings with interest, and here and there bits of cloth appeared to be floating on the surface of the water. Unless Ron missed his guess, the crocodiles had already feasted on Death Eaters. Hopefully, they would be given all they could stomach.

Crouching down behind the wall, Ron motioned his companions in close. "What do you think?"

"I think that it's suicide," was Angelina's sour reply.

"We certainly can't hit them with a frontal assault," Ron agreed. "But they're trying to break through into the Great Hall."

"Could we try to distract them?" Lavender asked.

"Take out Voldemort," Lee opined.

When everyone turned to look at him with open skepticism, he shrugged and gave them a toothy grin. "He's not looking at us. I would think that it would be hard for him to concentrate if we turn his head into fine mist with a reductor."

"We're too far away," said Katie with a shake of her head. "You just can't get that kind of accuracy with a spell from this distance."

"If we all did it at once, we'd have a greater shot of hitting him," insisted Lee. "Besides, even if we all missed and hit the wall, I'm pretty sure the shrapnel from hitting the walls will keep him busy too."

"And then the Death Eaters would know exactly where we are," Angelina said.

"Let them come," Lee said.

Ron thought of the possibilities and he realized that he really did not have any better ideas. If the Ministry forces did not get here soon, then they were dead anyway. It would be better to go out swinging than just waiting here for the Death Eaters to come and find them.

"All right, let's do it. When I give the signal—"

Interrupted by a sudden movement, Ron gaped as many figures holding onto a rope—perhaps as many as two dozen in total—materialized in front of them. As one, the wands of the six Gryffindors snapped up to meet this new threat, when Ron realized that these were no Death Eaters.

"Hold your fire," he said as loud as he dared.

The club members all lowered their wands, and the new arrivals, though still appearing ready for action, responded in kind while looking at them with some concern.

"What are you doing here?" demanded one of the stern-faced men. Ron took him to be the leader of the team which had just appeared in front of them.

"Fighting for the school," was Ron's dry reply. "We've fought a running battle with the Death Eaters all the way from the other side of the school."

The Auror just nodded as his fellows fanned out to secure the area—apparently he decided that it was not worth it to castigate them for recklessness. "What's the situation?"

Ron motioned to the wall and together they approached the parapet, and cautiously peered over together onto the scene below. "The Death Eaters are trying to break through into the Great Hall. There are other groups fighting them, but our numbers are way too few to take them on properly."

Nodding, the Auror motioned for them to get away from the wall, and he gathered everyone together, minus those few who were still watching the passages into the small area they were in.

"Our forces are approaching from the courtyard, and should be able to push their way in at any moment. When Dumbledore gives the signal, we attack the Death Eaters from every direction."

"There are more of you?" Ron asked, hope lighting his heart. If they were that close to breaking back into the school, then perhaps not all was lost.

"Dumbledore created several portkeys," the man confirmed. "I can only assume that he sent others to locations around the entrance hall, so that we can catch them in a vice when the signal is given."

"Then we can give the bastards a little of their own medicine," Ron replied with a grim nod which was mimicked by every member of his team.

The Auror turned a raised eyebrow toward Ron and he appeared about ready to say something, but whatever it was, his thought went unspoken. Ron would bet every galleon he owned that the man had been about to warn them to stay clear of the fighting, but the hard looks on the faces of all the club members apparently prompted him to rethink his words. They were not about to be left out of this fight, Ron was certain. They were all itching for payback.

"Be careful. When the signal comes, we move."

The Auror moved away and began to position his troops so that they could rush out and engage the Death Eaters in an instant. There was a stair at the far end of the room which would lead right down into the entrance hall, but Ron assumed that at least some of the Aurors would go over the side and hit the Death Eaters from above.

He looked back at his group, and was amused when Lavender spoke up, saying, "We can follow them, I think. No sense in trying to be heroes."

Though a part of Ron wanted nothing more than to hit the Death Eaters himself and bloody their noses, he understood the sense in Lavender's words and he nodded in agreement.

"We'll wait for the signal then."

Down in the depths of Hogwarts, Daphne stood flush against a wall, waiting for the signal to be given. All about her, the other members with whom she had fought that evening were arranged in a formation to hit the pursuing Death Eaters with everything they could muster, causing as much damage as they possibly could.

And even then, Daphne was aware of the fact that it would not be enough. They had taken a heavy toll of the enemy while avoiding much in the way of casualties themselves, but she knew that they had faced only a small force of Voldemort's followers. The bulk was gathered about the man himself, obviously trying to take control over the school itself. If Dumbledore did not return soon . . .

"They're coming," a grim voice said from her side.

Daphne nodded at Tracey, and she focused on the task at hand, knowing that it would not do to worry about things which she had no control over. She signaled down the hall to indicate that action was heading their way.

As she waited, she considered what they had done that evening. It had been a pleasant surprise, she decided, when the twins had turned out to be gifted strategists, though she supposed it was far more accurate to say that they were brilliant in hit and run tactics, and innovative in how they used their evil inventions on the foe. A daring attack at the entrance hall had even led to the creation of a swamp on one side, and to several of the enemy becoming a late night snack for the large reptiles which inhabited their inventions. Daphne shuddered—she certainly would not want the two of them to turn their attention on her. She doubted that she would survive such an encounter.

The rest of their time had been a running battle. The students would fight for a few moments, before breaking off and taking up defensive positions a little further into the castle, trying to draw the Death Eaters into a series of traps. The first couple of times had worked out brilliantly, and it was clear that the defenders were much more familiar with the castle than the attackers. But after that, the Death Eaters had learned caution, and though they had still taken casualties, they had begun to inflict damage back on the student defenders, though thus far their casualties had been limited to some injuries, none of which were serious.

A bit of movement caught Daphne's attention and she could see a Death Eater shuffling forward with a cautious step. Knowing that the order would soon be given, she tensed, and then brought her wand to bear with a slashing curse as soon as the signal to attack was given.

She was rewarded by a shriek of pain as the Death Eater she had targeted, suddenly dropped his wand from his nerveless fingers as her curse severed several important tendons in his hand.

The rest of the attacking force rushed forward to engage the defenders, but the melee only lasted for a few moments before a curious thing happened. A hardened man who had been facing Daphne suddenly clutched his arm and cried out in pain, an action which was copied in various forms by the attacking force. Immediately the Death Eaters broke off and began to retreat from the fight with the students, defending themselves as they went.

"What are they doing?" Daphne called out, nonplused by their behavior.

"Looks like they've been called back by the evil big cheese," one of the twins opined.

"Things must be going bad for them," added the other.

"Shall we follow them?"

"We can't allow them to just walk out on a fight. It's not exactly sporting, you know."

"Come on everyone," the first twin shouted, and he stepped forward, pursuing the Death Eaters away from the corridor in which they had set up their trap.

"Carefully," the voice of the Charms professor floated up to them. "It does look like they've been called back, but it could be a trap."

"When have you ever known us not to be careful, professor?" asked one of the twins, as he sent a number of curses streaking down the halls after the retreating Death Eaters.

"I dare say that we are two of the most cautious fellows around," added the other one.

Daphne attempted to pay them no mind. They had kept up an almost constant dialogue throughout the entire time they had been fighting the invaders, and by now Daphne thought she was adept at tuning them out altogether.

They followed the Death Eaters closely, attacking them whenever the chance presented itself, but the professor's fears remained unrealized. It appeared that they truly had been called back to their master's side, though what that could mean, Daphne did not know and tried not to think. Instead, Daphne followed along grimly behind, harassing the Death Eaters at every opportunity. Hopefully, many fewer would rejoin the Dark Lord than had initially left to run them to ground. It would not be long, however, before they would be faced with what awaited them in the entrance hall. Daphne hoped that Dumbledore had returned to the school and was closing in on the attacking forces, or this would turn out to be a very short offensive.

The battle at the entrance was fierce as the two sides strove against each other as two titans, matching each other spell for spell and blow for blow. Screams echoed through the air, mixing with the din of shouted spells, the impact of curses hitting men and rock, and the splash of spells against hastily raised shields. In the midst of all this, the expressions of the combatants flashed across Harry's consciousness in the briefest of instants—fear, hope, anger, hatred all mixed together with determination and the struggle to survive.

Harry had never seen anything like it in the entire course of his life. He had, of course, read of famous battles in the Muggle world in the course of his schooling, and he had heard of the chaos of battle, the horror of seeing others cut down, the metallic scent of blood, and the desperate struggle to prevail against the foe, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of it. There was nothing he could compare to the conflicting feelings of exhilaration and dread which permeated the entire battlefield. And though this battle was being fought with wands and spells, rather than swords and shields, he fancied that the hell in which he was currently embroiled was every bit as desperate as those fought with swords, or even more recently, with bullets, tanks, and aircraft. A wand was in its way as deadly a weapon as a sword, for example, and it could take a life just as quickly.

As Harry dodged a sickly-looking orange hued spell, cast by a swarthy man with a sinister patch over his eye, he returned fire with several spells, any of which would have incapacitated or killed the man had they hit. But the man batted them aside and fixed Harry with a glare made all the more sinister as it came through one eye; the other was covered by a black patch, which in turn barely hid a long, red slash which started at outer corner of his eyebrow down under the patch to the edge of his nose—obviously the reason he had lost the eye in the first place. The frenetic pace of the battle did not prevent him from wondering why the man had not been healed—perhaps replacing an eye was not something which magic could overcome? Of course it did not really matter—his returning fire splashing against Harry's shield was far more important. The fact that it was followed up with a hastily-cast killing curse, required Harry's full attention, and he relinquished any curiosity about the man as he dodged to the side to avoid the lethal spell.

Harry rolled to his feet and came up firing, a banishing curse finally finishing the job, as it caught the man in a glancing blow and sent him careening back into several other Death Eaters, and taking the lot of them to the ground. The Death Eaters struggled to return to their feet even as Sirius, Hestia, and Harry surged forward to try to push the enemy even further back toward the entrance to the school. Bill Weasley had disappeared somewhere in the shifting lines of battle, and though Harry hoped Ron's eldest brother was well, he was a little too busy to concern himself about Bill's fate. Within moments, the four, with Dumbledore supporting them from behind, had managed to capture or incapacitate the entire group, though the Death Eater with the patch was found already to be dead—the force of Harry's banishing curse had almost crushed his torso.

Snarling at the still swarming mass of Death Eater defenders, Harry made to dart forward to engage yet another group of Death Eaters, and force his way by the sheer strength of his will to where Voldemort awaited him in the chamber beyond. Before he could do so, however, he was held back, and he peered up, blinking in surprise to see Padfoot's steady gaze upon him.

"Let's go!" he shouted over the din. "We're running out of time."

"Dumbledore has told everyone to stay clear," Sirius replied, raising his own voice in an effort to be heard. "We're to engage them, but not to get too close to the walls."

Harry was confused by the direction, and he glanced back at the Headmaster to see the confirmation of his orders. But Dumbledore was not paying attention to Harry—instead he was assaulting a force of the enemy which stood off to the side of the main entrance. With him, was a group of Aurors who had apparently joined the battle late, as they appeared to still be somewhat fresh. For himself, Harry felt anything but fresh, as the sweat was rolling down his face in rivulets, and his arms and legs felt leaden, almost as though he had run for miles that day.

He had no further time to cogitate over the matter, as the small group was brought under assault by a force of Death Eaters who, apparently seeing that the Ministry forces were no longer pushing their way forward, erroneously assumed that the offensive had petered out. Raising a shield to protect himself from several spells, Harry grimly returned fire, hoping that Dumbledore knew what he was doing. He knew that the walls and doors leading to the Great Hall were reinforced—a legacy of a less civilized age in which the castle had actually come under attack, and a last refuge against any attackers. But Voldemort had been at them for far too long, and Harry knew that it was only a matter of time before he was able to bash his way through.

Batting a bludgeoning curse aside, Harry responded with a reductor, feeling an immense satisfaction when the Death Eater's leg literally disintegrated from the force of the curse, causing the man to drop to the flagstones below, bellowing in his pain and fear. Another attacker took his place, and Harry was once again forced to defend, and this time Hestia appeared at his side, taking up the fight against the man, while Harry concentrated on their defense. A moment later and that man had too been defeated, courtesy of a series of spells which had overwhelmed his defenses.

It was possible, of course, that they could still win the day should Voldemort take control of the wards, Harry thought as he once again engaged an enemy in a fierce firefight. There were now so many of the Ministry forces inside the school, that even should Voldemort achieve his goal, he would likely still be defeated by the force of numbers. But that would not bode well for Hermione and Fleur—or any of the other defenders—and the loss of life would be potentially even more catastrophic than it already was.

When the four companions defeated the Death Eaters in their immediate area, they fell back slightly to take stock of the situation, though they were still required to be on the lookout for stray spells. The ring of Death Eaters defending the entrance appeared to still be intact, though Harry fancied that they had cut them down in numbers. However, it was evident that Voldemort would just continue to throw his Death Eaters against them in an attempt to keep them at bay, and there were still many Death Eaters inside who had yet to join the fray. Clearly something needed to be done to turn the tide and allow them access to the inside of the school.

And that something turned out to be Dumbledore. Harry turned and watched the Headmaster for a moment, and he could see that Dumbledore had something in mind. He was not paying attention to the battle, and the Aurors who had been with him earlier had now formed up around him, protecting him from any attacks while he prepared whatever stroke he had in mind. Harry could almost literally see the power flowing off the ancient wizard in waves, and he knew that whatever he was to do, it was imminent.

All at once, Dumbledore fixed his eyes—which glowed with power, though it may have been a trick of the light—on the massive wall in front of them and with one motion, Dumbledore brought his wand down pointed at the wall and intoned, "Bombarda Maxima!"

A point to the side of the entrance, almost disintegrated under the force of Dumbledore's spell, and a great shower of rock and mortar went flying inward from the point of impact, disappearing into the confines of the entrance hall. Where there had previously been a solid wall, a gaping hole was opened up in Hogwarts' front wall facing the courtyard. A cry went up from among the assaulting Ministry forces, and they wasted no time in surging forward into the gaping wound.

Not wishing to be left behind, Harry darted forward, this time accompanied by his seemingly eager companions, while Dumbledore brought up the rear, though Harry was not certain how the man could still be standing after unleashing a spell of that magnitude. And though he appeared to be no more rested than the rest of them, he moved with a speed which belied his great age and the exertions he had just undertaken.

Within moments, they had gained the hole in the wall and had crossed over the rubble into the edge of the entrance hall. The scene inside was as confusing as the one which had prevailed outside—the granite blocks of the outer wall had blown inward, showering the assembled Death Eaters with rocks from small pebbles to respectable sized boulders. Many were down, caught up in the storm of rock which had mowed them down when the wall had been pulverized by Dumbledore. Those who were still standing appeared dazed and disoriented, and they struggled to shrug off the powerful explosion and meet the Ministry forces. For a moment it almost appeared that they had stopped the surge in its tracks.

About the rest of the room, those who had been waiting to assault the Great Hall had turned to meet this new threat, and though the men were obviously hardened killers, more than one face had blanched in the face of the intensity of the Ministry's attack.

All this Harry took in with an almost distracted air, for across the hall, near the large double doors to the Great Hall—which were themselves rent and tattered—stood Voldemort. The man had turned away from the walls and was now regarding the incursion into the entrance hall with barely concealed rage. But Harry also could not give the emotional state of the Dark Lord any attention. For his mortal enemy was before him. Harry knew that the final confrontation was at hand.

"I'm coming for you, bastard!" Harry yelled as he started forward, attempting to confront the man who would dare to threaten those whom Harry loved.

"And you will die for your insolence, Potter!" the Dark Lord screamed in response.

As the battle once again joined with the spearhead of the Auror attack thrusting deep into the entrance hall, Harry heard three concussion blasts from behind him. The sheer volume of those blasts was such that for a brief instant, there was a lull in the fighting, as the combatants looked around, wondering if the very roof of the castle was about to plunge in upon them.

Hard on the heels of those blasts, several cries were heard, and from the various entrances to the hall, a large force of Aurors rushed into the room and began to engage the Death Eaters in a vicious battle. The vice of the Ministry forces was descending upon Voldemort's motley army, and the battle was joined.

The hall descended into utter chaos.

Updated 02/16/2016