Harry Potter and the Soul of the Hero
Chapter 25 – Rise of the Heroes
War is cruelty, and none can make it gentle.
~~Parker
Hogwarts
August
12th
During the summer break, the Hogwarts grounds were tranquil and quiet, the only real noise coming from the forest or from the bubbling of the lake. The castle stood empty for the most part, but at night a light could be seen shining softly in the window of the Headmaster's study.
It was a warm summer day, and out on the grounds Hagrid and Ron Weasley tended to his Thestrals, making sure the herd was ready for the job of pulling the carriages on September 1st. Despite all that had happened recently in the war, and with You Know Who, the school planned to reopen as usual.
Dumbledore stood with Hagrid and Ron, both admiring the skeletal beasts and talking quietly, as old friends are want to do. Ron felt a little out of place conversing with Dumbledore on matters of war, but the old man respected the position of power Harry had given him last night...
Last night....
With Ron's permission, Dumbledore had extracted the memory from his mind and watched what had happened in the pensieve. He grieved for Ginny
Weasley, and prayed to whoever was listening that Harry had not thrown his life away for her. He had seemed confident, however, that he could bring her back.
"How is your mother, Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron rubbed his unshaven cheeks and sighed.
"She's falling to pieces, sir," Ron said. "Clinging onto the hope Harry gave her last night."
"And you?" Dumbledore continued, his eyes void of their familiar twinkle.
Ron chuckled – bitterly. "I'm commander of the Twilight Guardians and the Army of the Darkslayer!" he exclaimed, throwing up his arms and scowling. He fell silent at that but only for a moment. "And I'm clinging onto the same hope...."
"Harry wouldn't av' given yer the job if he didn't think yer were up to it, Ron," Hagrid said, throwing a piece of meat the size of a small tree towards the nearest Thestral. "You kids are all grown up now...."
Ron just shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't want the job, or the responsibility. Many times since he had met Harry he had imagined himself in the place of the Boy Who Lived, doing some of the things that he did and... basking in the glory and fame of it. But now, after only a day, he could truly appreciate the burden it was to lead.
And Harry had survived so much, carried the weight for so long. At any moment Ron expected the weight to crush him. Was that how Harry felt...?
No, not Harry, he was too strong for that. But how could anyone be expected to carry such a weight? Ron was simply mystified by that. What force in existence dumped all this on Harry?
And I'm only carrying a small portion of the burden, he thought. No bigger than a pebble compared to what Harry deals with.
"And how is Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked.
Ron thought the old headmaster seemed a tad unnerved. There was a tightness around his eyes and he kept glancing around at the grounds, shrugging his shoulders.
Ron smiled as he thought of Hermione. She had taken to the task Harry had given them with more excitement than trepidation. She wanted to prove that she could do it, that what she was doing mattered. Ron could tell her that it did, even if they all died in the coming months.
No, he wouldn't think about that. Harry would come back from... death... with Ginny, and he would defeat Voldemort and the world would be free.
That was what would happen – what Ron had to believe. A happy ending though, felt more like a dream that was shattered every time he truly thought about it.
"Hermione is... stronger than I am," Ron managed. "She's already planning everything out as she says Harry should have done. Filing reports, buying stores and supplies...." Ron waved his hand through the air before him. "When Harry gets back she'll have organised everything so well that he'll probably leave her in charge."
"Organisation was never one of Harry's strengths," Dumbledore smiled. "He has always been a soldier, a fighter, really."
Ron nodded. "That he has... anyway, Professors, I can't stay all day. Ten thousand troops are expecting weapons and I have to make sure they get-"
Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck the ground not twenty feet away. A cloudless sky swam overhead and yet another bolt struck the ground, and a ripple of the power flowed across the earth. The wind began to howl as it was sucked in towards these freak bolts of power.
In the blink of an eye Ron had his wand out, as did Dumbledore and they raised shield charms as one. Hagrid was trying to calm the Thestrals, but they seemed beyond reason. Screeching and rearing up on their legs, the herd bolted for the forest. The lightning strikes increased and the ground began to shake.
And then Ron saw a strange and terrible thing.
The air... the space of empty air above the ground began to twist.
Before it tore open he had time for one thought, and that thought was: Merlin, we're dead if this is Voldemort.
A great tearing sound broke reality apart and the wind was sucked into the opening void. Down on one knee with Dumbledore behind him, Ron glared at the hole into the Boundary and watched as... something... a figure wrapped in a sphere of light, tumbled out of it and faded as it hit the ground.
A second later and the air twisted again, sealing over the wound to the fabric and the air stopped spinning, the ground stopped shaking, and the unnatural lightning struck its last. Ron and Dumbledore dissipated their shield charms. Hagrid was off after the Thestrals, into the forest.
That was a gateway, Ron thought.
"That was a gateway," Dumbledore said, his voice grave. "Do you agree, Ronald?"
Ron nodded. "What the hell came out of it?"
"I believe," Dumbledore said, looking pensive, "that it may be best to proceed with caution."
"You first, sir."
Together, Ron and Dumbledore flanked the man that had fallen out of the gateway – Ron taking the left, Dumbledore the right – and kept their wands trained on the figure. He was moving, groaning, and completely naked. Across his body there were bruises, cuts and several large gashes.
It can't be a coincidence that he came out here, Ron thought. Not many people know about the gateways – only a handful... who is it?
It wasn't Harry, that much he could tell. Although this figure had dark hair, he was taller than Harry and slightly better built. The years had been hard on Harry, and although he was strong his body wasn't corded with muscle like this man's. He also had two whole legs, whereas Harry's left was metal from the knee down. And this man was perhaps in his early forties – not old, by wizarding standards.
"Light, I made it," the man said, turning onto his back and coughing. "By the grace of the Creator I made it!"
"Good morning," Dumbledore said jovially, smiling and pointing his wand between the man's eyes. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
Ron came up on the left and glanced into the man's eyes. They were bloodshot, watering and he seemed to be having trouble focusing. "Can we help you?" he asked.
"I seek the Darkslayer," the man said, crawling up onto his knees. "Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived."
Ron remembered something Harry had told him a few weeks ago.
"I've only enemies beyond this world, Ron. The Guardians are dead, gone – anything that comes through a gateway isn't likely to be a friend."
"You expecting a lot of people to come through these gateways?" Ron asked.
Harry's eyes flashed. He looked tired, very tired. "No," he said after the moment had stretched on... Then he smiled. "No... not people."
"Why, my dear boy, would you seek him?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes still twinkling.
The man's eyes hardened. "Watch your tongue, boy," he growled at Dumbledore. "My age can be counted in millennia." He looked around and up at the waving flags on the parapets of the castle. "And I have finally come home," he whispered.
Dumbledore's eyebrows raised and he took a step back. The man crawled to his feet, and despite his nakedness there was an air of command and respect about him. Pride and power. Ron felt it, saw it in his posture. It reminded him of Harry, although not as commanding.
"I am the Guardian Godric Gryffindor," the man said, and Ron almost dropped his wand. Gryffindor turned to look at him and Ron saw a long scar cut up the right side of his cheek, from the corner of his mouth up into his ear. "William...?" Gryffindor whispered.
"Ron Weasley," Ron said, and then, after a long moment of careful thought, lowered his wand and offered his hand to the man.
Gryffindor grasped his inner forearm and Ron his. "Well met, Ron Weasley... you remind me of a man I once knew. A very dear friend of mine, who died a long time ago." There was an ashen and crippling shadow that rippled across the man's face, but it was gone a moment later.
Dumbledore was doing some fast spellwork and, from a scrap of cloth conjured a pair of fine robes which the man who called himself Gryffindor shrugged on with a word of thanks.
"I saw you in Harry's memories," Ron said, after sharing a look of bewilderment with Dumbledore. What am I supposed to do now? he thought. Well, Harry left me in charge... he wanted me to make these choices. "You sent him back after he made it to the Ways of Twilight. Sent him back with a block on his memories." There was a hint of anger in Ron's voice at the end there.
Because of that block, he thought, Harry was captured and tortured by the vampires....
Gryffindor looked up sharply, his gaze piercing Ron. "How many months has it been since the Darkslayer returned? How many?" Urgency and fear were rampant in Gryffindor's words.
Another look with Dumbledore. "Four, or thereabouts," Ron shrugged.
"And the block on his memory is no longer in place?"
Ron shook his head. "No, it isn't. He broke through it two or so months ago."
Gryffindor slumped and his face seemed to drop. "Then he is insane... he must be. All those memories so soon after the shift in reality would have destroyed his mind."
"He is stronger than that," Dumbledore said, with his usual cheerfulness. "May I offer you a lemon drop, Mr Gryffindor?"
Gryffindor stared at the bag of sweets that had appeared in Dumbledore's hand and then turned back to Ron. "He is... sound of mind then? Harry Potter, is he sane?"
Ron thought about that for a moment and then decided to tell the truth as he saw it. "No," he said with a sigh, and then, "But he is the right kind of insane."
"You must take me to him at once!"
"That may present some difficulties," Dumbledore said, with a great deal of understatement.
"Why?"
"He... er..." Ron searched for the right words. "He—Harry's gone. Something happened and it forced him back out of this world."
Gryffindor paused and, with great difficulty, managed to speak. "Where did he go?"
Ron opened his mouth but Dumbledore beat him to it. "I think," the old professor said, "it may be wise to ask you some questions before we answer anymore. Let us take tea in my study, up at the castle."
Gryffindor's eyes flashed but, after a long moment, he nodded. "I would very much like to step inside the castle again. Please, lead the way."
Ron came last, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. Godric Gryffindor! he thought. Godric bloody Gryffindor! Wait until Hermione hears about this. She won't believe it until she sees for herself.
*~*~*~*
Hermione fastened her cloak about her shoulders securely and brushed her hair back into manageable bunches. Picking up her folders, she gazed out of the nearby window at the vast expanse of desert that was the heart and most of the land on the Australian continent.
She was tired, having travelled half the night to get here. Without Harry to apparate them through any and all wards and across international boundaries travel was a lot more... frustrating.
A portkey to the Australian Ministry, upon which she was security checked twice and searched. Hermione tried to suffer that with a smile, but it was difficult. After that was a three hour session with the woman Harry had left in charge - the old, hard-faced Auror Maggie Thorn – to relay Harry's orders.
She wasn't to know he had disappeared however. Any sign of weakness, and the shaky power structure Harry had built in that country would collapse in an instant. They had to believe he was still out there, that he could come back at any moment.
After the Ministry it was half a dozen portkey trips to half a dozen secure locations before Hermione had finally arrived at this massive military base in the middle of the desert. The sheer size of it had left her breathless upon arrival, her precious folders and files clutched under one arm. She knew Harry had been busy – but this.
It was simply extraordinary.
Rows of white barracks for the soldiers, training fields and camps, shooting ranges, recreation areas and, stretching all the way to the horizon, housing for civilians. Harry was preparing for the long run.
Harry was building a city here, under the sway of his military. If it kept growing it would one day house hundreds of thousands. And it was still growing. Ministry spellworkers and contractors worked around the clock building new homes and foundations. The landscape was vastly different than it had once been – urbanised.
And all around it, Hermione knew, Harry had placed the strongest shields in existence. Nothing dark or marked could get through them – and so long as Voldemort himself never found this place, and it was in the middle of nowhere, it should still be standing when Harry returned.
If he returns, Hermione thought, turning away from the window and biting her bottom lip. She didn't know how he'd gone after Ginny... but to go into death, didn't one have to be dead? She hoped he hadn't thrown his life away. Though if anyone knew what they were doing it would be Harry.
"Scotland is a helluva big country, ma'am," the leader of the Twilight Guardians said. "And all reports say that storms have blanketed the country, flooding cities and roads. Communications have been almost wiped out."
"These are Commander Potter's orders," Hermione replied, a little sharper than she had intended. This man had questioned her 'supposed' orders from Harry for the last few hours.
Standing in the operations centre of this mostly deserted desert city, Hermione did feel as if she was in over her head. Who was she to order these soldiers into a fight that could cost them their lives? Why did Harry have to give her this job? People could die because of the choices she made...
On the list of his instructions that he had written last night, Harry had wanted the Twilight Guardians to take a whole battalion – 1,000 soldiers – into Scotland and wipe out the growing number of Inferi that were hiding in the valleys and mountain ranges around Glencoe.
"At best there are twenty thousand Inferi in Scotland, Captain," Hermione continued, raising her chin and looking the seasoned soldier square in the eye. She thought Harry would have been proud of her for that, Ron as well. "That is a force capable of overrunning a city as large as Glasgow. They need to be destroyed."
The man shook his head and stroked his chin. He was a muggle, and the thought of magic and magical beasts must still be messing with his head. "You want me to invade my own island, ma'am. Invade the United Kingdom and shoot up these... these monsters."
Hermione kept her composure and then glared at the stubborn man. "I don't want you to do anything. I'm just the messenger here. Harry—
Commander Potter, has ordered this. And, for your information, the United Kingdom has already been invaded. You're going there to destroy the invaders."
The man hesitated and Hermione saw his allegiance waver for just a moment. He had been unable to contact his government, the British Government, and was lost. Harry suspected foul play on behalf of the Prime Minister, but hadn't had the time to do anything about it. In his instructions he had told her not to trust anyone, especially any man claiming to be the Prime Minister.
"Yes, ma'am," the Twilight Guardian, known only as Alpha One, said. "Troops will be ready for full deployment in five hours. Reconnaissance will
begin in an hour. Full orders as I understand them: Deploy to Scotland, Glencoe – kill anything... that is already dead. These Inferi."
"Ministry Aurors will accompany you, of course," Hermione continued, her outer calm belying the relief she felt inside that she had been obeyed. Well, that Harry had been obeyed through her. "To provide magical reinforcement and target identification."
"Yes, ma'am," Alpha One said, saluting her once.
Hermione turned again and gazed once more out of the window. Down the road she could see soldiers – wizards and witches – training with the weapons Harry had modified. Three thousand rifles and pistols had been delivered through the British Ministry, under Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore a week ago, and yet there were still at least five thousand men and women here who had no weapons beyond their wands.
That was another problem Harry had set down in his instructions, one Hermione knew would take a lot to solve. Mainly because it meant stealing the weapons from the muggles, and then following the designs Harry had brought back with him. The Weasley twins, she knew, were working on some devices of Harry's devising....
It might be time to pay them a visit, and see what she could squeeze out of them.
Things are moving so fast, Hermione thought as she gazed out of the window and towards the setting sun in the west. Twilight was about to descend over the land. Such a small piece of this world she could see, and yet in a few months it might be all that remained of civilisation.
If Harry comes back, she thought. I can't believe I'm standing here... this is too big for me. Did Harry ever think that? Maybe he did, years ago, before Evil forced him to take action and do what had to be done to save everything, to ensure the survival of everything! Now, he lived for one thing and one thing only – Ginny. She was his anchor, a tether to the world he hated.
And Hermione knew that to be true. Harry hated this world, hated all worlds. He tried not to, but he was so seeped in the corruption and anger, evil and pain, of life that some of that must have rubbed off on him. Why then did he fight?
Defiance? All of his defiance was broken last night, and it would take time to heal. Time the world didn't have, time in which Voldemort could kill millions – or worse, let them live for when he assumed command of this world. With Harry gone, there was nothing to stop him.
"Will Commander Potter return soon, ma'am?" Alpha One asked, hands clasped behind his back and his face neutral.
"Soon," Hermione nodded. It has to be soon, or everything we're doing will be for nothing.
How much time do we have? she wondered, with more than a little fear. How much time before Voldemort strikes and realises that Harry isn't here to challenge him? The answer, she feared, could be counted in very short days.
*~*~*~*
"This couldn't have happened at a worse time," Godric Gryffindor said, standing before the fireplace in Dumbledore's office. "Why, Potter, why now?" The last was whispered into the flames. "You say I missed him by only a few hours?"
"He left last night," Ron replied, seated opposite Dumbledore and slowly stirring the sugar into his tea. "Didn't know when he'd be back."
Gryffindor frowned. "Then mayhap he knew something of what he was doing…."
"What do you mean?"
"Hmm…?" Gryffindor was pulled from his thoughts. "Only that in Death time flows differently."
"How so?" Dumbledore asked.
Gryffindor waved his hand dismissively. "Here, in the mortal realms, time can be manipulated back and forth, and even through the present – side to side – in the Boundary time can only move forward, never back. But in Death… well, time doesn't flow at all in Death, but one still feels its pull."
"You've been where Harry's gone?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. "Into Death?"
Gryffindor laughed. "Only to the precipice of that dark realm, young Weasley. I became a Guardian, which is a living creature, after I 'died' here a thousand years ago. None who enter Death ever return… So very little is known about that realm."
Fawkes hummed softly on his golden perch, his deep eyes resting solely on Gryffindor. The castle itself seemed to sense the presence of one of its founders, for Hogwarts never felt more alive. It was nothing that could be seen, but it could be felt. As if everything was as it should be.
"Harry'll be back," Ron stated. "He will."
They all heard the uncertainty and fear in his voice, and a foul silence fell upon the room after his words. Where Harry had gone, willingly, was a place beyond the sway of all the rules that governed the worlds of life. Death was a whole new deck of cards – a pack containing nothing but jokers.
"And you, Ron, were left in charge of his armies in his absence?" Gryffindor asked, breaking the quiet.
Ron nodded reluctantly. "I was, so was another of Harry's friends. She's down there now in Australia, carrying out his orders."
Gryffindor blinked. "Orstraylaia?"
"The world has changed since you last walked it," Dumbledore said, tapping his fingers together. "It is a lot smaller these days."
Gryffindor nodded. "The Destroyers are gathering their strength for an assault on the world – I've spent the last few weeks evading their forces just beyond the Boundary surrounding our universe. Some billions are already poised to attack… why? How could they know that this world is the only one that matters now?"
"Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "The last surviving heir of the line of Slytherin. According to Harry, he opened a gateway at Stonehenge and summoned a Destroyer, in hopes of commanding the demons that are imprisoned between universes. The Destroyers learnt that the Darkslayer was upon this world, and allied themselves with Voldemort."
Gryffindor absorbed that slowly, his eyes cold and unseeing for a moment, and then he began to laugh. "So," he said, "in the end it all comes back to the war Slytherin started a millennium ago. The oath has yet to be fulfilled, and now everything tilts towards the void."
Ron didn't think Gryffindor knew he was absently stroking the long scar on the side of his face. "What oath?" he asked.
A tear rolled slowly down Gryffindor's cheek. "Ah, it feels like only yesterday," the Guardian said – and despite his human form he was still a powerful Guardian, one of the remaining ones – sighing with regret and loss. "And yet it has been one thousand years. I speak of the oath I made to
Slytherin, as he died… at Stonehenge."
Dumbledore blinked, but then managed a small smile. "We are all connected, it seems, in this eternity long game. Please, continue."
Gryffindor did not seem to hear him, but he spoke anyway. Had to speak, as the last thousand years and all the pain before became new again. "Everything must have a beginning," he whispered. "As he lay dying at Stonehenge, Slytherin told me that it would never be over – the war he started, to cleanse the world of all save the purebloods… and their muggle slaves."
"Sounds familiar," Ron muttered.
"I believed what he said," Gryffindor continued. "So I made the oath: 'This war has just begun, Slytherin. And as long as one of your descendants strives to kill all those who are innocent, I promise you that one of mine will be there to stop him.' Gryffindor's face became hard, serious. "For however long this war lasts, I take a magical oath now. I swear that those who follow in my blood line will be protectors of the innocent. Sworn to fight your line and those that serve it. Until the ending of the world if needs be."
"The ending of the world…." Dumbledore echoed, as all fell silent – including Fawkes.
"And now it looks as though that the oath will be fulfilled one way or the other," Gryffindor sighed. "With Slytherin's final death, or the end of creation itself. One can only hope for the former…"
"It is all connected," Ron said, gazing back across the years. So much that had seemed random now made sense, and all that seemed chaos could be made to fit the oaths and prophecies given time. Harry had once told him never to doubt fate, but always fight it.
"There's nothing to be done for it now," Gryffindor continued, his eyes sweeping between Dumbledore and Ron. "The Darkslayer is gone, perhaps forever – we must prepare this world to battle the legion of Destroyers."
"I could use the help," Ron confessed. "All the history books say you were a great commander in your time, Gryffindor."
Gryffindor snorted. "I suppose I… led, more than most back then – during the First War of Slytherin. But this is not the world I remember, although the enemy remains the same. We will do what we can, and prepare to fight without Harry Potter."
"He'll be back," Ron said firmly. "He fought through hell and time once to get back here, and this time he went willingly."
"That he did," Gryffindor mused, and Ron saw that he was concentrating hard on his hands – staring at the backs of them and turning them about.
"Accio Parchment!"
Wandlessly, Gryffindor summoned a stack of bound parchment from Dumbldeore's desk. He smiled. "My mortal powers return," he said. "And I still carry the powers of a Guardian."
"There is much to discuss," Dumbledore said. "And precious little time in which to do it."
"Right you are, Headmaster." Gryffindor inclined his head. "How right you are. Let us begin. Tell me, Ron, of our world…."
*~*~*~*
August
13th
After Midnight
Scotland, Glencoe
It was raining in Scotland – long lashing sheets of heavy water that made visibility very poor. No more than a few feet in any direction. That improved only slightly when the unnatural red lightning tore across the sky every few seconds, followed by deafening thunder that seemed to shake the very earth beneath the feet of the two hundred Twilight soldiers.
Alpha One stood inside the command tent erected in the centre of a small valley between the shoulders of three of the taller mountains in the Scottish valley. The rain was loud on the roof of the tent but not as loud as it should be. The magical folk had cast repelling charms and other useful spells against the absurd weather.
Gazing down at the maps and reconnaissance charts before him, Alpha One spoke softly with his team members and advisors, going over the possible courses of action they could take. Commander Potter had advised them to concentrate their efforts near the town of Kinlochleven – that the Inferi were heavy there. The town was two miles away east, but little remained of it. The loch it was built aside had flooded days ago, with the water levels continuing to rise.
Still, his scouts in the field had reported brief skirmishes with the undead enemy. Skirmishes ending, so far, with only three casualties and seven injuries – none severe – with three hundred of the enemy destroyed. Three hundred of at least 20,000. It was not cause for celebration, but it was a start.
Outside of the command tent large pavilions had been erected for the soldiers, all two hundred of them. Those furthest along in the training, all equipped with a magically modified rifle, pistol, and an array of altered explosives. Most of them were just kids with little to no experience, but they'd get that soon enough.
"This ridge," Alpha One traced his finger along the map. "Next to the town – you say there are ruins alongside the mountain beneath it?"
"Aye, sir," the most recent scout to return said. "They ain't natural either," he continued, shrugging his rifle over his shoulder. "They felt… wrong, if you follow me, sir. And they were shinin' in the night, through the rain even. Red, dark red – like blood. Smoking, too, they were."
"Any contact with the enemy?"
The scout nodded. "Few up on the ridge, but nothing I couldn't handle, sir. Down in the valley though… near the forest. When the lightnin' lit up the sky it was as if the ground were movin', sir."
"Moving, soldier?"
The scout shrugged again and a faint smile slipped across his face. "There were a lot of 'em, Captain – some thousands. And… well, there were other things, too."
"Such as?"
"Coming in and out of the shiny ruins, sir. Other creatures. Don't remember much of my magical creatures course back at school, but I reckon I saw a lethifold or two, and a Nundu." The scout shivered, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was soaked through to his bones.
Alpha One heard gruff curses and gasps from the magical folk around him. "Nundu?" he asked.
"Magical beast, Captain," one of the advisors said behind him. "Very… difficult to destroy. One has never been taken down without the combined efforts of a hundred wizards."
"High threat then," Alpha One sighed. "But this area—" He circled the ridge and forest next to Loch Leven on the map. "—is our hotspot, people. These are our invaders."
"It would be foolish to attack that many, even when the remainder of the battalion arrives in a few hours," a wizened witch said, shaking her head. "Suicide. Ten thousand would not be enough against all the Inferi and Merlin knows what else hiding in and around these ruins."
"I agree," Alpha One replied. "That is why I'm sending in the Twilight Guardians alone, and the rest of the battalion can concentrate their efforts on the surrounding valleys. I intend to cut out their heart at Loch Leven, and then exterminate any stragglers. We're going to deal this… Dark Lord, a mighty blow."
"The Twilight Guardians against the thousands in that valley, Captain?" the oldest and most respected magical advisor in the group asked softly.
"Aye," Alpha One nodded. "The Twilight Guardians and several dozen of those lightweight explosives we received a week ago."
*~*~*~*
The Alpha, Bravo and Charlie teams of the Twilight Guardians moved silently along the ridge that Alpha One had circled three hours ago back at the field base. It was early morning now and still the storm raged overhead, as it had been doing for the last few days.
The small force of warriors made up only fifteen in number, but they were invisible against the shadows of the mountain above them and the slight rise in the ridge. They could look down into the approaching valley, at the glowing ruins, but it was doubtful that – even on a clear night – anyone or anything would be able to see them.
The eight men and seven women travelled light, equipped only with their enhanced armour and weaponry, as well as an array of muggle devices designed for quick use in the field, like a one man tent and a day-pack that could be stretched to last three, if the worst should happen.
As well as the standard uniform and weapons, each Twilight Guardian also carried two long, metallic cylinders strapped to their backs. These cylinders were warm to the touch and, like their modified rifles, packed more of a punch than ordinary explosive. They had thirty between them, but ten would be enough to turn this infested valley into a sea of fire.
"All clear, Bravo?" Alpha One whispered into his radio. Bravo had the lead, and Charlie were bringing up the rear. So far there had been no contact with the enemy, although they had discovered the rotting corpses of the Inferi the scout said he encountered.
"All clear, Alpha," came the reply. "Enemy sighted in the valley – just a glimpse during the last strike – estimate four thousand Inferi."
"Report back in two minutes when you reach the crest of the ridge," Alpha One relayed his orders. "We'll rendezvous there and proceed with the plan after visual assessment."
"Understood. Bravo One out."
Alpha One got his first look at the enemy down in the valley a few minutes later when the rounded the edge of the ridge and a large bolt of lightning lit up the area for miles around. The lumbering corpses that should have lain dead moved around in the valley and the edge of the loch with little purpose, stumbling into each other and clawing at the dirt and tress of the forest.
Despite all of his training, Alpha One felt a rush of fear at seeing these creatures – even at this distance. He had grown up ignorant of the other world that existed alongside his own, the magical world. To know that all the nightmares of what could be hiding in the dark were actually real, and were rising up to claim the world, was hard to accept. He pushed the fear down however, and resumed his command.
"Charlie, rendezvous in one minute beyond the ridge edge."
"Copy that."
Those ruins also tugged at the Twilight Guardians – all of whom were muggles. They felt… bad, wrong. A corrupt blight on an otherwise normal place. The foundations looked like they once supported a tall tower, but that tower had fallen. Large chunks of black stone, some weighing hundreds of tonnes, littered the ground around the broken stump of the tower.
A faint crimson light hung over it all, and there were shadows in that light. Half glimpsed forms of creatures that were, again, the fear in nightmares. Alpha One had been studying the wizarding books on magical creatures, but couldn't even begin to understand half of what his enemy possessed.
No matter, he thought. These explosives will destroy the lot of them.
The three teams met at the crest of the ridge a few minutes later, all sodden and all looking grim. Every one of them had gotten a good look down into that valley, and knew the next few hours were going to be difficult.
"We need to set the charges around the perimeter – a mile-wide radius," Alpha One spoke quickly, quietly – all about the mission. "With… ten charges spread about the valley inside the enemy territory. Now, these cylinders will fire from a standard grenade launcher, such as the ones on the underside of your rifles, for a distance of three hundred metres. This means we're going to have to get pretty damn close. Any questions?"
"Time?"
"Two hours from now I want those explosives melting this valley," Alpha One breathed. "We'll proceed forward from here in the set teams. Alpha will take 360, Brave 120, and Charlie 240. Standard triangular formation. Set charges at your degree and then launch four cylinders into the mess from your positions. 0500 explosive set. Any questions?"
"Fall back?"
"If you're charges aren't in place by 0430 then fall back to this ridge. If the ridge is inaccessible then launch personal raft into the loch and head downstream. Stay clear of the forest, we do not know what's in there. Do not be within two miles of this valley at 0500. Any questions? No, then move out."
Alpha Team had the greatest distance to travel to 360, or due north from their current position. Roughly one and a half miles to the other side of the valley. Under these conditions, they could be there in fifteen minutes, so long as none of the enemy was encountered.
It was 0345 now, which meant they had forty-five minutes to set their explosives and head back to the ridge. Manageable, even allowing for contact with the enemy.
Alpha moved swiftly, silently, through the night and around the edge of the valley. The rain was an ally at the moment, for if it were a clear night they would be lit up like the sun for anything in that valley. As it was, nothing hindered their progress for the first mile, but then they made contact with a nest of Inferi.
Alpha One was leading and he had his rifle butt raised into his shoulder groove when they crested a small hill and came down the leeward side near to the rising waters of the loch. They were almost upon the Inferi when the wind changed and carried a guttural scream through the splashing of the rain.
Then, out of the shadows, forms solidified and Alpha didn't hesitate.
Efficiently, having reacted instantly to the cry on the wind, Alpha One opened fire and a split second later the other four members of his team spread out and cut down the dead monsters. Still dressed as they had died, the dozens of Inferi were cut asunder by the sphere fire of the Twilight Guardian's weaponry.
"Move," Alpha One cried. Their fire would have marked their position for anything that had been looking. Shooting down the last few Inferi in their path, Alpha broke out into a quick jog and were soon lost to the shadows amongst the curtain of rain.
Over the constant pitter-patter of raindrops, the rushing sound of the flooded Loch could be heard up ahead as well, and it was that sound that guarded Alpha the remaining distance to their position 360 degrees from the ridge. Glancing at his luminescent wrist watch, Alpha One caught the time at 0415.
Bravo and Charlie should be in position and setting their charges, he thought. Yet there had been no communication… they had not reported their status, and in the fire fight Alpha One had forgot to check in. He cursed his own forgetfulness and grasped his radio.
"Set the charges," he told the rest of his team, unclipping the radio from his shoulder and dropping his pack. "Five minutes we're out of here." Alpha One walked away a few paces, wiping his face from the rain and spoke quickly into the radio. "Bravo, status report. I repeat, Bravo, report in."
A few moments passed….
"This is Bravo Three, Alpha," the static reply came through. "Nine charges set – preparing to fire final into the fray. Estimated time at rendezvous 0430."
"Understood, Alpha One out." Alpha One looked over his shoulder and saw two of his team planting the charges as instructed, whilst the other two were loading the explosive canisters into their launchers. "Charlie, status report. I repeat, Charlie, report in."
The radio hissed and nothing but static buzzed through the receiver. Fifteen seconds ticked by before Alpha One repeated his order, feeling a surge of worry and concern. He looked out into the general direction he expected Charlie to be, but of course could see nothing more than a few feet away in that direction.
"Charlie – all, Charlie. Anyone respond!"
One… two… three… four… five—
"This is Charlie Five," a female whisper came through the radio. "All charges set.... Alpha."
Alpha One let go of a breath he didn't realise he was holding. "Understood, Charlie. Why the delay in response?"
"This is Charlie One," another whisper, male this time, came through the radio. "We were… are… being hunted by something, something huge."
"Do you have a visual?" Alpha One asked.
"N-Negative, Alpha leader," Charlie One replied. "Big, long… moving fast across the ground. Only saw it in the shadows, last seen heading towards the loch."
"Any other enemy contacts?"
"Pockets of Inferi, nothing more. Heading back to rendezvous now – 0435 arrival."
"Understood, Charlie – radio back at 0435."
Alpha One clipped his radio back onto his shoulder harness and turned back to his team just as the first two canisters were launched inland into the deeper parts of the valley. Three of the canisters had been set for explosion nearby, and Alpha Four was returning now for his second and last.
"Two minutes," Alpha One whispered to his team, and then began priming his own canister, setting it for 0500 before slipping it into the launcher under the barrel of his rifle.
Tuf!
The canister was launched through the rain and lost to sight almost instantly. A faint smoky trail hung in the air for a moment before the rain washed it away. One minute later and all the canisters were in place – thirty of them all across and around the valley. It was 0430 – in thirty minutes this valley would be dust.
"Pack up and prepare to move out," Alpha One said, picking up his own pack and securing it tightly once more. "Rendezvous is the rid—"
The radio hissed and beeped.
"Alpha, this is Bravo One."
"Bravo One go ahead," Alpha One spoke into the small black box.
"Multiple… targets… large snakes – sixty, maybe eighty feet long. Jesus, Alpha, heading towards the loch – heading towards you!"
Alpha One cursed but maintained his composure in front of his team members. He was the leader and would remain calm, even under circumstances such as these.
"How many, Bravo?"
"Seven… at least. We're up top of the ridge now and just watched them slither out of those glowing ruins. They came out of the ground, up out of the ground."
Basilisk, Alpha One recalled the name from the magical creatures texts he had been studying. The King of Snakes. Could be up to one hundred feet long, poisonous fangs, to look into their eyes was instant death – petrification if it's a reflection. Oh yeah, and they're supposed to be rare.
"We make a break for the ridge now, people," Alpha One spoke quickly, confidently, and kept his rifle raised into the darkness back the way they had come. "Double time – shoot to kill anything that moves. Go, go now."
It was more of an open run than a quick jog now. All of Alpha had heard the radio call and knew what could be on the way. They all had faith in their weapons when facing smaller, less deadly foes like the Inferi… but a real monster over fifty feet long. All of them knew it would take a lot more fire power than they had to take down one of those beasts in any reasonable amount of time.
Running across the sodden ground through the dark, with the valley set to explode around them, Alpha only made it half a mile before the Inferi were upon them.
*~*~*~*
Team Bravo made it back to the ridge with minimal enemy encounters – a few of those zombies, nothing more, and definitely something the team could handle. Their charges were set and they were back with twenty five minutes to spare at 0435. Huddling around a small hot-packet, the members of Bravo kept a strict watch on the path for the other teams.
Bravo One knew that Charlie was to report in at 0435, so that would be the next team marker. He moved out onto the edge of the ridge to see if he could catch a glimpse of the team when a ripple in the shadows over by the glowing ruins caught his eye.
"Eyes over here," Bravo One whispered to his team and was soon joined by Bravo Two and Three. "Do you see what I see?"
There were large, bulky shapes rising out of the ground over by the ruins. Huge masses of flesh that looked like giant snakes, slithering over the debris
of the tower and heading almost due north towards the loch, towards Alpha.
"Je-sus," Bravo Two cursed. "What the fuck are they?"
Bravo One reached for his radio. "Alpha, this is Bravo One."
*~*~*~*
Charlie One pushed his team hard up to the ridge. He had one of his feelings that everything was about to go wrong, that something wasn't right. At forty five, with short greying hair and hard eyes, Charlie One had seen a lot of battle campaigns in his time, but nothing as messed up as this one.
A magical war, and his government fighting it in the shadows, battling monsters and nightmares. He shook his head as the four members of his team rushed by him, as he guarded their flank.
Charlie One's instincts had served him well over the years, and they were screaming at him now to run, to get the hell out of the valley. There was something in the shadows, shapes and eyes, he was sure. First there had been that giant… something… that he couldn't even be sure he'd seen, then the Inferi which they tore apart quickly, and then the growls on the wind that the entire team could hear.
Growls that were getting closer with every passing moment.
Faster, Charlie One thought, must go faster. His instincts told him to run as if the fires of hell were chasing him.
Charlie was halfway up the path to the ridge when a huge mass of rippling muscle darted passed them and spun on its legs, growling and hissing.
Charlie opened fire without hesitation, lighting up the ridge and cutting into the beast before them, that looked like an overgrown – severely overgrown – leopard.
All of the team leaders had been studying the magical creatures texts, and Charlie One recognised this as a level five beast. A Nundu, one of the worst, if not the worst, creatures on the planet.
Poisonous breath, hide extremely thick. It is fast, no real weaknesses.
The sphere fire surprised the beast and it reared back on its hind quarters, exposing its underbelly. The glowing spheres had little more effect there, only serving to knock the creature onto its back.
"We've pissed it off now," Charlie One said. "MOVE!" he then roared at his team. "Up the ridge, faster, faster."
The team raced passed the beast just as it flipped itself into the side of the mountain, growling and thrashing. Charlie One unclipped a grenade from his belt and pushed the blue button on its top. Five seconds…
He tossed it at the beast and then broke into a run after his team, reaching for his radio. "Bravo this is Charlie, we're coming in hot. I repeat, one of the big bastards on our tail. Sphere fire ineffective. Suggest plasma grenades."
There was a reply but Charlie One didn't hear it. Adrenalin pumped through his system and his heart pounded in his chest. Behind him the cries of the
Nundu were washed out as his grenade went off. A blinding flash of light, rock was seared away, but the impact on the stone behind him told Charlie
One that the beast had survived.
The growl that came a split second later only served to confirm that.
Shit, shit, shit… Charlie One cursed. I will not be killed by this son of a bitch.
Charlie One raced after his team, now closing on the crest of the ridge. He dropped another grenade but knew the beast was less than five seconds behind him. It went off, but the Nundu leapt through the blast unscathed. So far it was uninjured, save for a few singes to its fur. A green mist was rising from its mouth, its poison.
Charlie One knew he was about to become lunch for this bastard, but he'd go down swinging. Or at least go down. He made the ridge, ran up the small crest with his legs pumping hard. He dropped then, expecting exactly what happened. He purposely fell to the ground, cutting his arms open against the rock, and the Nundu bounded over him, its back paw cuffing him in the shoulder and sending him spinning into the side of the cliff above the ridge.
Nearby, the rest of Charlie spun and dropped to their knees, raising their rifles at the behemoth falling through the air before them. Just behind them,
Bravo was armed and ready, launching their plasma grenades as soon as the target was in sight. Three of them sailed too high as the beast came down, but the other two exploded near the Nundu's shoulder joint, and the blast sent it spiralling into the rock face.
They all opened fire as, faster than a bolt of lightning, the Nundu was back on its feet. It leapt and bowled over half of Bravo, digging its claws into whichever team member it landed upon. There was a scream as Bravo Four was pierced, his shoulder crushed.
The other soldiers continued to fire, aiming for the beast's eyes as Bravo Four screamed again. He was a well-trained soldier, been in the service nearly twenty five years. No family – none that mattered to him anyway – and he had lived alone. One the edge of his mind he watched the beast just shrug off the pulsating power of the sphere shots that hit it.
He watched its head rear up, watched it open its mouth to reveal jagged fangs swimming between a faint grin mist, and Bravo Four knew then that it was about to tear his face off. A quick death, if it killed him. Still, survival of the fittest and all of that. With his good arm, his right, Bravo Four snatched a grenade from his belt and pushed the blue button just as the beast's head began to move down.
With the last of his strength and lucidity, Bravo Four snapped his arm around, grenade enclosed within his fist, and shoved it up before his face. The
beast's mouth came down around his arm and bit it off in one quick wrench, swallowing it whole. Bravo Four screamed again, though at this stage he
was scarcely aware of doing so.
The Nundu exploded from the inside two seconds later. Most of it simply disintegrated, not being as hard on the inside as it was on the out. A fair amount of blood and gore splayed the area around what remained of Bravo Four nonetheless, and splattered the other team members of Bravo and Charlie.
Harsh, half-hearted gasps for breath were all Bravo Four could manage as both Bravo Five and Charlie Five, trained medics, descended upon him with their first-aid kits and magical potions. His wounds were beyond any healing now.
"Did I kill the thing that killed me?" Bravo Four asked, surprisingly clearly.
All of the others in Bravo and Charlie were alive, some with minor wounds. Charlie One had it the worst – a few cracked ribs. They all knew Bravo Four was dead, and he knew it too.
"You got it, Four," Charlie Five said, with a tone of compassion in her voice. "Saved us all with that stunt, you crazy bastard."
Bravo Four laughed, coughed through blood, and then died.
*~*~*~*
Alpha couldn't move forward towards the ridge. They were stuck a mile from it at 0435 and time was running out. Hundreds, if not thousands, of Inferi were blocking their path. It seemed every one of the zombies had decided to converge in this part of the valley at this time.
Alpha One cursed his luck and knew they couldn't defend this position for long. The dead were already piled up high, but more of the rotting corpses were climbing over their dead, desperate to scratch out the life of the five Alpha team members. So was their purpose in whatever state between life and death they existed in.
Half a mile behind him, Alpha One knew, was the flooding Loch Leven – and each member of his team carried a small, one-man inflatable raft. The
Loch eventually drained out into the ocean, but before then the winding waters waded through the gap in between the two mountains beside which the command centre was located. If they could make it that far on the rafts then it would be a four mile hike through the lower mountains back to base.
Alpha One unloaded a stream of sphere fire into a wall of Inferi and waited a few seconds before firing again. Too much continuous fire and the weapon would overheat, possibly explode. Again, the rain helped keep it cool – but better to be safe than sorry.
Time was running out… if the Inferi were this thick all the way back to the ridge then it would take several hours to get there. Alpha had minutes before the bombs went off, and precious few of them.
Alpha One made the call.
"RETREAT TO THE RIVER!" he shouted to his team over the weapons fire, rain and harsh screams of the monsters. "THE RIDGE IS CLOSED TO US!"
Leapfrogging cover fire allowed the four members of Alpha to move back behind their leader, gunning down the Inferi as they went. The creatures weren't fast, even if they had two whole legs, and not that smart. As soon as the five live humans were lost to sight they became confused, erratic, stumbling over one another.
Fuelled by adrenalin, fear, and the heat of the battle, Alpha made good time covering the half-mile distance to the edge of the loch. They encountered no Inferi or anything else, although there was a sense of something hiding in the shadows, just out of sight – always hiding.
0450, Alpha One glanced at his wristwatch. We need to be at least a mile downstream before 0500.
True to their training, the other members of Alpha didn't waste any time. From the small packs on their back they each pulled out a black rubber pouch with a safety-pull tag. The hiss of air rushing into the inflatable boats was lost under the rain and an exceptionally large roll of thunder.
Alpha One was the last to go, being the leader. He saw his soldiers off first and then spoke into his radio. "All Twilight Guardians, this is Alpha One," he transmitted to Bravo, Charlie, and his own team.
"The ridge is inaccessible for Alpha – we are heading back to base down the river. Bravo, Charlie."
"Bravo here, sir."
"Charlie here, sir."
"You're to evacuate immediately," Alpha One said. "Head back to base – we'll see you all there."
"Aye, sir," came two replies, and then, "Sir, Bravo One reporting one casualty. Bravo Four."
Damn… almost made it. "Understood, Bravo One… sorry to hear that." It could have been worse."
0454
Alpha One launched his own boat into the river and jumped into the icy water up to his knees before pulling himself into the craft. He kept a sharp watch on the valley as he was pulled outwards into deeper water, rifle aimed at the shoreline. Through the rain he thought he saw something move on the shore, into the river, out of the shadows – but it was only a fleeting glimpse, if it had been anything at all.
0457
"Float three miles down out of the body of the loch and into the river," Alpha One spoke to his team through the radio. "All Alpha report back in every ten minutes."
"Yes, sir." Alpha Two.
"Understood, Captain." Alpha Three.
"Yes, sir." Alpha Four.
"A—"
A burst of static was cut off abruptly and Alpha One seized his radio. "Five, respond."
Nothing… not even static.
Shit, Alpha One thought. 0458. "Does anyone have a visual on Alpha Fi—"
"Holy shit! It came up out of the water," a near-hysterical voice cut through on the radio. Alpha Two.
"What did, soldier?"
"The snake – the fucking snake. Swallowed Five whole."
Oh… damn.
"It was huge… and, and dark. Just a shadow in the darkness. God, it went back under."
0459
Alpha One gripped his radio hard and stared out into the turbulent waters around him. He had all but forgotten about the impending explosion back in the valley. The immediate danger came from the water, from under the water. The goddamn Loch Leven monster.
"Stay calm, Alpha," Alpha One ordered. "Proceed as planned, keep a sharp watch."
He knew that none of them could get out of the water until the loch narrowed into the river up ahead, and they could paddle back to shore. But there was a basilisk in the water, perhaps more than one. It all came down to chance now.
And then, like a leviathan rising up from the deep, the water to Alpha One's left – less than twenty feet away – exploded in a haze of foam and a deep roar pierced the night air. A long, thick snake rose up screaming, its hide shining dark green against one of those crimson lightning strikes. Alpha One almost screamed in terror, but his training kicked in and he swung his weapon around in a wide arc….
What the hell am I doing? he thought, a split second before he pulled the trigger. His hand came away from the grip and he crouched down low in his raft, remembering enough to avoid looking into its eyes.
Alpha one didn't know if the beast could see him, or hear him, smell him even, and just trusted to luck now that it wouldn't spot him through the rain on this dark night. All his hopes were dashed however, when a series of the unnatural lightning bolts lit up the water for all to see.
And then it got worse, as a second and third snake – all of equal monumental size, reared up out of the water to the right and behind Alpha One.
Three towering monstrosities of impossible strength and malice.
"That's just not fair…" Alpha One whispered, and knew he'd been seen as the creatures roared and moved with deadly speed towards his small defenceless boat. For lack of any other options, Alpha One's hand moved towards the three grenades strapped to his belt.
His hand came down on the first just as his watch beeped… 0500.
The storm, which had been conjured by the Dark Lord, had hidden the sun over this part of the country for many days, and the only light had come from the lightning. Now though, at 0500, the valley and surrounding mountains blazed with the fires and fury of the sun for a few moments.
Rays of magically enhanced explosive shot outwards at the speed of light from the quickly decimated valley. Already infested beyond any normal means of recovery, the land was cleansed in the fires that followed, burning away all of the monsters and turning to dust the ruins of the once towering fortress on the side of the mountain.
A wall of water rose up from the concussive force of the blast, rushing downstream towards Alpha One and the three basilisks. A giant wave, riding the force of the thirty detonations. In just seconds after the explosion, before even Alpha One had realised what had happened, the wave was upon him.
His small boat rose up the side of the swelled mass of water, which quickly overtook the hissing snakes, and from the top of the wave Alpha One got a good look at the destruction he and the other Twilight Guardians had just inflicted against the Dark Lord's armies.
The explosions had washed across the valley in a heartbeat, leaving fire in their wake. Not many fires, but one long sheet of flame that coated the valley and surrounding hillsides. The forest, which had been about two miles thick, was blown away. Nothing would have survived even the initial blast – nothing had.
Turning his mind back to the problem at hand, Alpha one fastened his harness tightly to the strap on his raft as he rode the crest of the wave. He had gone up to its peak, and now gravity was about to kick in and plunge him back down towards the surface.
I'm about to get very wet, Alpha One thought, and then began to laugh. The mission was a success. He'd dealt a serious blow against a vast amount of the self-styled Dark Lord's forces. He had helped free his country from the tightening grip of a madman. And he'd done it very loudly.
Still, there was one matter that concerned him. The snakes… at least seven… had not died in the blast. And this loch eventually led out to sea. Those monsters would have free reign of the entire planet. Commander Potter's ambassador, Hermione Granger, needed to know about this.
But that was neither here nor there now, and Alpha One gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the impending crash.
*~*~*~*
In the early hours of August 13th, only moments after a certain valley in Scotland went up in flames, Ron found himself back at Grimmauld Place after a hell of a long day explaining the mission to Godric Gryffindor and then spending many hours with him, Dumbledore, some Ministry folk, and Order members making future plans.
He had been awake for over thirty hours, and was looking forward to catching a few hours rest before the day truly began. Is this how Harry feels all the time? Ron wondered. This bloody tired. Merlin, but I'm hungry.
Grimmauld Place was quiet. Not empty, just quiet. Ron avoided going into the living room, where he knew Harry had placed Ginny last night. Encased in that preservation bubble or whatever the hell it was. He knew that Ginny was dead, dead! But with Harry around that didn't mean what it used to.
"Why doesn't it feel as if she's gone….?" Ron wondered aloud, heading into the kitchen.
Because Harry said he'd bring her back, and Harry is… well, Harry.
Not entirely sure where the rest of his family was, but guessing they were probably either at the Ministry – his dad would be there – or at the Burrow,
Ron quickly poured himself a bowl of cornflakes, for lack of anything better on hand. He needed something to eat, anything, and the milk was fresh.
Sitting at the table a few minutes later with nothing but his thoughts and a half empty bowl of cereal, Ron contemplated heading to bed. He'd have to set an alarm to be up in a few hours – new day, new plans – but in his head there were a hell of a lot of stairs between the kitchen and his room.
An unexpected tear rolled down his cheek, and then the other.
Tears of frustration, of anger, of almost-grief. Everything was spiralling out of control… Harry, all of them really, were meddling in forces and powers beyond their understanding. And whilst Harry may have hardened himself against them, Ron was new to the feeling.
It terrified him.
There were steps in the hallway outside and Ron thought it was probably an Order member. He just hoped it wasn't Snape. To his complete surprise, when the kitchen door was pushed open and light spilled in from the corridor it was Hermione standing there, looking tired but beautiful with a box of books and folders tucked under one arm. She seemed equally surprised to see him, but smiled when their eyes met.
Dropping her box onto the table, Hermione walked over to Ron and sat down on his chair, pushing him across a bit and throwing her arms around him. Ron returned the gesture and slowly ran his hand through her long bushy hair.
"Busy day?" he asked her, and when she lifted her head up to meet his eyes again Ron saw tears. "That bad?"
She nodded numbly and sniffed, wiping her eyes on the arm of her blouse. "I don't know how Harry deals with all of this," she said. "Just one day… and I can barely keep up. They wanted me to sign death warrants for three Death Eaters found in Sydney, so they could be – under Harry's laws – officially executed. I couldn't do it…."
"What happened?" Ron asked, angry that Hermione would have to take part in the darker aspects of Harry's godforsaken quest. Harry Potter had a lot to answer for.
Hermione just shook her head. "That woman," she hissed. "Maggie Thorn… Oh, I hate her, Ron. The Death Eaters were imprisoned for now, for when Harry gets back."
"I love you," Ron said, abruptly changing the subject. "And let's not talk about all of that nonsense now. We'll have to deal with it all again soon enough, but for now let's talk about anything else."
Hermione smiled, after a moment. "But you haven't told me how your day went?"
Ron shrugged and pushed a few of the soggy cornflakes left in his bowl around with the spoon. "Normal enough," he said. "Well, normal enough for us. I spent the day making battle plans with Dumbledore…."
"…and?" Hermione prompted, sensing something more.
"And…." Ron stretched the word out, taking a deep breath. "Godric Gryffindor."
Hermione blinked, thought back on Ron's words, and then frowned. "That's not funny."
"No, it isn't," he agreed. "But we'll deal with it all later. Do you think you could carry me up to bed? There are a helluva lot of stairs between here and there."
Hermione smirked. "I suppose you want me to tuck you in, too?"
"I never said that," Ron feigned innocence but the gleam in his eyes gave him away. "But I was certainly thinking it very loudly."
*~*~*~*