AN: *Insert huffy disclaimer here*
AN2: A bit of sexual imagery from Hermione's point of view, nothing explicit and all of it is memory, but I thought you should be warned, it's about halfway through.
-:-
Chapter Eleven: Bloodless
"We're going to do what?"
Hermione turned sharply in Harry's arms to look him in the eye.
"Whose hare-brained scheme was this?"
The sheepish look on his face told the story.
"Are you mad? What makes you think we're in any way ready to do this? Not to mention we don't have any kind of plans or preparation."
Harry's look turned stern and it was one of the few moments in their relationship when she knew Harry was actually slightly angry at her, she winced as he started to reply, knowing that she'd stepped over some line.
"Do you really think I'd put you in that kind of danger?"
Harry's tone, far from being harsh, was actually somewhat broken. She dove into his mind and was blown away by the raw emotion there.
"I wouldn't risk you, us, in some kind of suicide mission, Alastor and Umbridge are knocking together a plan, and with your help it'll be perfect. As for preparation there is very little that needs doing save getting out there."
Hermione slipped her arms around him and held him close, trying to stave of the sob that wanted to escape her. Of course he wouldn't put her in some kind of hopeless situation, sometimes she was still that bossy girl with the idea that she knew better than everyone else. They clung together for a few minutes, reaffirming their trust in one another.
That was the worst thing sometimes, having this perfect, intimate link with someone and then feeling part of their trust for you slip away slightly. It was gut wrenching and it was probably one of the greatest reasons why they were both honest with each other and unlikely to start a fight.
Because that was the other thing that really tore at Hermione's heart, feeling his anger at her. It had happened just the one time, but she never wanted to go through that again.
It had been during the summer, Harry was still recovering from the events in the maze and Hermione was being smacked about by her hormones, puberty was a bitch no matter how magically powerful you were. He had been lying on their bed, reading one of his mathematics journals. It didn't come up much but Harry's early fascination with mathematics, due to his rare forays into the Library in surrey, had left him in his teenage years with a powerful affinity for the subject and he had subscriptions to several mathematics journals from various institutions.
When Hermione went into the room and saw him stretched out on their bed with his lithe body on display her teenage hormones took over and she had crawled up onto the bed, trying to get at his groin with her hands.
It was to this day the most embarrassing moment of her life in refection, she prided herself in being able to control herself, especially around Harry, but on that day she had lost it at the sight of her bond mate and any thought of his mental state had flown out the window. That night was the first and only night, where they had slept in separate rooms since their bonding. Just thinking about the night tore at Hermione's nerves, it had been horrible for both of them.
A large hand cupped her cheek and she smiled into the touch: He had seen her thoughts. She opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her with a tenderness he never revealed in public.
"I love you."
The soft spoken words were a balm to Hermione's racing emotions and she let herself melt into his arms as he closed for a gentle kiss.
"I wish we had time, I'd ravage you within an inch of consciousness."
Now really, did he have to do that to her? She'd have to change now.
-:-
When Harry and Hermione walked into the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom where Alastor and Professor Umbridge were waiting for them, Harry got the strangest feeling, like they were on the edge of a precipice, about to leap into the unknown. In reality, they were just going to banish an undead giant.
What immediately drew his attention was the large map spread out on an equally large table on the middle of the stage. Alastor and the Professor were both leaning over it pointing out features and talking in firm tones. As Harry and Hermione ascended the stage the two elder planners turned to meet them. Alastor fixed them with a gimlet eye.
"Last chance to back out you two, we won't have time to make another plan after this, if you're staying commit to it."
Harry shot an annoyed look at Alastor
"Do you really think we'd back out? Give us some credit Mad Eye."
The gimlet eye did not abate
"You're a pair of teenagers, strong, powerful, mature teenagers, but still teenagers. Who knows how you'd be feeling right now, nervous? Scared? Merlin, I'm scared and I'm a hundred times your age, undead giants are not to be taken lightly."
Harry wilted slightly under Moody's gaze and nodded
"Yeah, we're scared." Hermione nodded solemnly at his side, he looked up
"But damnit Alastor this needs to be done."
The old Auror nodded, satisfied
"It does need to be done, but there's no reason why you shouldn't be scared. It's clichéd but fear is important, it makes you think with survival in mind. Enough of that though, we're running out of time and we have a lot to do tonight."
He led them over to the table where Professor Umbridge was still pouring over the map. Jabbing the map with a gnarled finger Moody pointed out four locations.
"The Auror scouts all saw the enemy from these locations. Problem is that Valmortis has split his forces up into separate groups for the sake of keeping the peace between them. Vampires and thralls do not get along, and most vampires despise skeletons and Inferi as inferior beings, fittingly as they are not wrong."
He pointed to a hollow between two hills on the topographical map.
"The only place they could be moving a giant through is here. The rest of the ground is too boggy or outright flooded at this time of year for such a creature to make it through in one piece. Fortunately the enemy hasn't reached this point of the terrain yet according to our estimates of their progress. That means the giant must be heading towards this point, and should be passing through it tonight."
Harry looked at the surrounding terrain; forested all over, Lock Lamond to the west and a series of small streams to the east, the streams would be fine for the undead to cross, but the Loch would funnel more of the undead into the valley.
"That area is going to get saturated with undead; the units to the south-west are going to be forced into the same space as the unit that's surrounding the giant."
Moody nodded, growling softly under his breath.
"That's the truth of it, each of the four units is approximately three thousand strong at least, and Professor Umbridge and I both agree we'll have to deal with at least two full units including the one the giant is surrounded by. It's not going to be the best idea to engage them, as you might imagine, but any we can pick off will be ones that we don't have to deal with two days from now. That said our goal has to be speed, do what we have to do and get out as quickly as possible, objective complete."
Harry nodded, his mind spinning with thoughts about the coming engagement. Hermione asked a question in calm tones.
"If the scouts haven't seen him yet, firstly, what twigged you to there being one there? Secondly, how are we supposed to deal with it if we can't see it?"
Umbridge spoke for the first time since they entered.
"The scouts' descriptions of the enemy's' movement depict ordered columns, but the unit here," she gestures at the map, "has a large gap in the middle of the formations. The presence of a giant is the only thing that would be able to both have such a large radial footprint, not only in the formations but in uprooted trees, and yield a significant strength to the encroaching force. If they can utilise the forbidden forest we'll be split on two fronts instead of being able to defend the single kill zone in the quad. The only other creature that could provide that kind of advantage would be an undead dragon, but that wouldn't need to march, or be glamoured, so it's fairly safe to say it's not that. As for how you're going to engage it? Any kind of glamour that would obscure such a creature at a distance would lose its integrity when scrutinized at close range."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"So once we're close enough we should be able to see it? What kind of range are we talking about?"
The Unspeakable made a weighing gesture with her hands.
"On the one hand such a glamor requires a fairly large amount of power, and the range of identification will decrease as the power used in the spell increases. On the other hand if all of our intel is correct and Voldemort is tied up going after the prophecy, which we're certain he is, then Valmortis is supporting this entire army on his own, meaning he shouldn't have too much power to put into that kind of a glamour, which needs constant attention. The scouts couldn't see it from two hundred meters out, I'd say anywhere within fifty should be close enough. On the outside edge, maybe a hundred, inside edge could be twenty five."
Harry scratched his chin; it was smooth at the moment as Harry had started shaving again after training had become an essential and the extra bit of discipline in his morning routine had felt… right. Hermione had been annoyed at first but the complaint had been swept from her mind as they had gotten stuck into the scenarios with the Aurors.
"So… we're going to set up at the ambush point, and try to take the giant out as it goes through, how much time do we have to get there?"
Moody glanced at the hourglass in the corner of the room and shrugged
"Four hours at most. The huge advantage we have here is that they won't stop marching for the night. So we can ambush them with cover of darkness, but that goes both ways, this is the end of the day for all of us and we're tired, so we need to be more careful in our approach. One issue I'm having is that we have no idea what type of undead giant this is going to be."
Umbridge raised a thin finger and tutted slightly
"Who exactly do you think I am? Obviously something nonsensical if you of all people are forgetting what my specialty is Alastor."
Moody rolled his eyes, both of them, as Umbridge continued
"It can't be a Vampire, the curse doesn't take to giants very well and it wouldn't have survived the trip, I doubt it's a skeleton or Inferi due to the sheer power required to animate something that big. There're only two Nosferatu in Britain, one of them is in that army, the other is elsewhere and not a threat, it's not Draugr, if it was it would have fallen apart from the damp, same for a mummy.
A Wraith, Wight, or Revenant would defeat the purpose of bringing a giant in the first place. All that really leaves is a thrall."
Harry scratched his chin
"There's that word again, care to explain?"
She nodded, slipping into her lecturing tones.
"Thralls are creatures infected by a Nosferatu, they aren't true undead, because they lack a soul as it is drained from them by the Nosferatu as it feeds, but they also aren't really false undead, as they retain autonomy and aren't animated through any specific charms. Because they lack a soul however they don't take any action without direction, much like a witch or wizard who has been kissed by a Dementor."
She looks down at the map and gestures to the places where the other parts of the undead army are
"If a Nosferatu infects a creature, but doesn't feed, that's when a first generation vampire is spawned. A soulless giant thralled to a Nosferatu is really the only solution to the conundrum. It's probably worth mentioning that a Nosferatu can thrall any soulless creature that has a biological origin, even extending to some magical plant life."
Harry shuddered at the sudden image of devil's snare being used as a weapon, he shook the image off but before he could speak Moody butted in.
"Yanno, how do we even know it's undead? Couldn't he have just brought a normal, living, creature with him? How would he have even brought an undead giant to Britain? It would have needed to cross the channel."
Hermione, surprisingly, was the one who spoke first.
"I'm not entirely sure how he brought it to Britain, but a living giant wouldn't abide the presence of undead around it. Valmortis would have needed to spend far more energy keeping it slaved to his will, far too much for any one person to achieve, especially with the length of the march, the army was located first in the countryside in Wales. It would have been impossible to keep the thing slaved for that long without his army being torn to shreds."
Harry asked another question, though this one was more or less to move the conversation along to more practical matters, though he did note that Professor Umbridge gave Hermione an approving nod for her explanation.
"So how exactly do we kill it?"
Umbridge shrugged as she spoke
"It shares necrology with vampires; anything that you would do to kill a vampire will kill a thrall. Decapitation will probably be easiest, I shudder to think what spells you'd need to break through its ribcage, and fire will take too long. So your strongest cutters, sorcel and spell, to the neck. Harry, Hermione, you two will need to be the powerhouses here, Alastor you keep any undead that twig of them. Decapitation will also ruin the creature for reanimation in any of the other methods if Valmortis is feeling up to it, hopefully with one strike we can neuter his advantage."
The three members of the impromptu strike unit nodded, a thought crossed Harry's mind that Parvati really should be there with them but shrugged it off and there was no time to integrate her into their plans. Hermione's thoughts briefly latched onto the fact that Unspeakable Umbridge had referred to Harry and herself by name, first name at that. Moody raised his voice slightly as he gave instructions.
"We're going to leave via broom, once we reach Hogsmeade we'll dismount and apparate to the location given to us by our scouts. Once there we spread out and locate the ambush point before regrouping to set the trap. As soon as the giant is revealed you two start gathering strength, and as soon as it's close enough, bring it down. As soon as it's decapitated all three of us apparate out of there to the three broomsticks, mount brooms and get inside the wards, clear?"
Hermione spoke up
"What happens if we're discovered before the trap is sprung, we can't really afford to abort this mission."
Alastor shrugged
"We've really got no choice but to complete this, if we're caught eliminate all the opposition as quickly and quietly as possible, then blink into the tree tops. That should throw them off."
There was a moment of silence as the four of them contemplated what was about to happen, then they between one another and seeing resolution in each other's eyes they all nodded, near simultaneously, and Harry spoke with a note of finality
"Let's get on with it then."
-:-
The night was inky, no moon, no stars, a pall of clouds lay over Scotland like the shroud of death himself; blanketing the land in darkness. The three fighters left the castle with haste, travelling via broom overland to the edge of the wards near Hogsmeade. The town had been evacuated that morning and the younger years had gone with them to safe houses across the country, all that were left in Hogwarts were the defenders. Now that Valmortis was so far committed to his attack the innocents and non-combatants had fled the danger zone.
While in flight the younger pair gathered around Moody and he showed them a wizarding photo that the scouts had taken that day and the trio apparated over a hundred and fifty kilometres south to the Trossach's national park where the undead army was moving through. This kind of terrain was ideal for the undead, forested land was much less likely to be unstable enough that it would be detrimental for the undead to travel through, and it was easy to hide the hundreds of undead from muggle surveillance in the thick canopy.
While Valmortis clearly had no compunctions about revealing magic to the muggles, the non-magical government was on alert for an organised force that could have committed the terror attacks. While the IRA had claimed ownership for the attacks over Christmas other attacks had been happening up and down the island and such a large group of undead would attract non magical attention that even Valmortis might not be able to deal with, bombs were exceedingly effective against most forms of undead.
When the three Hogwarts fighters arrived the forest was in pitch darkness. Sound would be their only identifier here, unfortunately apparition wasn't a quiet affair and they blinked soundlessly away immediately. They had apparated on top of an observation platform that looked to have been made by muggles, for what purpose none of the three cared, but it did lend them a moment to spread out and try to reach the hills that Umbridge had indicated.
It didn't take long, the valley was rather obvious and the three magicals rendezvoused on the westernmost peak where they had a commanding view of the terrain. Harry looked up at the sky briefly before speaking in an undertone.
"We can't have been here more than fifteen minutes, which means that the target is still probably a few hours out. You two take a beat, I'll watch for the first hour, I'll wake Alastor, and then Hermione can take last watch, alright?"
The other two nodded in thanks, it took a moment to throw some wards up for the sake of security should Harry be surprised by something they hadn't expected, then Alastor and Hermione dozed off against tree trunks opposite one another. Harry glanced at his soul mate before running an eye over Alastor's battered visage.
During the summer holidays and the Christmas ones, not to mention the intensive training of the last few weeks, he and Hermione had formed a close friendship with the ancient Auror, or at least as much of a friendship as someone like Moody would allow.
He had a certain dry wit that reminded them both of Ron, and not for the first time Harry wondered wistfully how their friend would have interacted with the crusty Auror.
-:-
The night refused to be anything but pitch black and chilly as the minutes ticked by, and as they did Harry alternated between staring blankly between the trees of the Scottish woodland and gazing at his sleeping bond mate with a somewhat tender expression. The training and impending attack had dampened a lot of the ardour that typically existed between the two teens. Indeed rarely now did Harry have time to simply be with his beloved when they were not approaching sleep. Even now in this time of relative peace he could not spend time with her as she, more than he, needed rest.
Evacuations didn't happen without stress and while Harry had been closeted with the other leaders of the defence Hermione had kept herself busy by assisting the teachers in getting the younger students out of the castle and to safe places. This had ended up leaving her more exhausted then him on a daily basis and if they didn't have their bond Harry was sure that the near constant strain would be affecting their relationship. As it was they barely had time to converse with one another in the mornings before they were either training, planning, evacuating, or any of the other myriad activities that had occupied their time in the run up to the coming battle.
Fortunately their practise of running around the lake in the mornings hadn't abated; indeed most of the defenders joined them, though few could match them in endurance or speed. This lent them some time to converse in their minds, there were many days where Harry was sure that the minutes spent running in the mornings were the only reason Hermione hadn't yelled at him for some slight or other.
While they rarely quarrelled, Harry and Hermione had their share of disputes; typically they were of an academic nature, discussing some point or other. But Harry and Hermione have both very powerful personalities, and if you put two people together with such strong minds eventually they're going to find differences to disagree on. Typically they were of a simple nature; an ideal here, or a concept there that occasionally grew into a miniature battle of wills between the two young lovers.
Fortunately while they both had strong personalities, they also had a deep devotion and care for one another, which meant these disputes never escalated into resentments and often resolved themselves naturally as they took in each other's opinion. Still Harry wished he had more time to spend with his girlfriend, his soul mate.
His allotted hour dragged on and on, and soon Harry began to feel the weight of boredom. He couldn't help but reflect on the year past: From the attack on Surrey, to training during the summer. Being back at Hogwarts and learning a whole slew of new things, many of which he'd never even imagined. Topics ranging from the undead to the theory behind magic itself and the principles of ward structure and control.
Wards had been a huge interest for Harry, for someone who liked to tinker and meddle with things through curiosity the concept of a series of tangible barriers that were based on the syntax and arrangement of runes? Hermione had been exasperated earlier in the year when Harry had ordered nearly a dozen books from Flourish and Blotts on advanced warding schema that Harry wouldn't even understand for another year of tuition. Hermione, of all people, had been exasperated, about him buying books.
Conjuration had proved to be an interesting, but mostly useless topic to Harry, Hermione had taken to it like a thestral to the air though. Where Harry saw little use for conjured birds or fireballs, Hermione's amazing brain pieced together huge intricate conjuration patterns to create the most incredible things. She had, with one conjuration, completely copied one of his most advanced automatons; that had been an eye opener.
As for his automatons, while they were still a hobby for him, and he found new and interesting things to do with them, lately the practise had petered off. There was a nagging doubt in his mind that he was missing something vital with them but he couldn't pin it down. The petering off had happened even before the run up to the battle, why? He'd hit a roadblock with the designs.
Typically, to make the little things work; they needed to be charged with a mixture of magic and mechanical ingenuity. For the most part this was perfectly fine for his 'simpler' creations. But as his craft had improved Harry had discovered that crafting runes into stone then transmuting the stone to metal wasn't enough to hold more powerful enchantments: The magical runes rebelled when used in such configurations, and Harry suspected it had something to do with the metal.
He was essentially stumped; his creations could move and 'think' for themselves by observing the world around them and following a set of predetermined rules. But Harry couldn't coax anything more out of them. One of the first things he had tried to do was link the automaton's vision to his glasses via a spell. That had been a disaster, the spell had overloaded the automaton's magical capacity and it, and his glasses, had exploded. He was happy he'd tested the charm when the glasses hadn't been on his face.
Since then he'd tried a variety of enchantments but nothing was sticking, until he found a better way to channel magic into the automatons they were about as complex as they were going to get.
Charms had proven to be one of the most challenging courses this year, the manipulation of magic to create logic pathways was both fascinating and frustrating. It was like having to learn a whole new language, on top of runes, and Arithmancy which was becoming more and more like a foreign language every day.
Herbology had become something of a throwaway subject for both Harry and Hermione, neither of them intended to have anything to do with the subject after school, and frankly they just had better things to be doing with their time than look after the various lethal and weird magical flora Professor Sprout could conjure up.
What else? Of course, the Regiment; it had become Harry's pride and joy, to see a group of young people coming together in an organization dedicated to protecting themselves and the others around them. He had watched people like Neville Longbottom and Ernie Macmillan, who while being a pureblood was desperately lacking in magical ability, become powerful confidant casters of offensive and defensive magic. Neville had taught Harry how to fight with a sword personally and Harry had to respect the slightly older boy for his knowledge and skill.
And of course Parvati, barely could he remember the socialite teen who had more interest in hair and fashion than tactics and planning. But as she had strived for excellence in the Regiment Harry had watched her gain confidence and passion for what Harry and Hermione had eventually handpicked her to do. Harry wouldn't ever be attracted to the girl romantically, Hermione or not she just wasn't his type, but he could absolutely admire and respect her for her talent and skill.
What had been truly surprising was the friendship that had sprung up over the last few months between her and Harry and Hermione. After the revelations about how Fleur had been manipulated into betraying them Harry had mostly shut himself off to friends outside his tight family circle and the few people he still respected enough to consider friends, like Fred and George.
But Parvati had somehow managed to worm her way into the inner circle of Harry's life, and honestly he was glad that she had. She was funny and talkative, which was often a good contrast to himself and Hermione who both tended to be fairly introspective rather than outwardly expressive. And she managed to make both Harry and Hermione laugh more often than they could count.
She was not nearly as close to them as Fleur had been, Harry wouldn't let that happen, but he was sure that in other circumstances, perhaps if he had met her first instead of Ron, she could have been the third member of the original trio.
His rambling thoughts turned to Fleur. He thought of the beautiful young woman who had been the closest friend outside of Hermione that Harry had ever had. Fleur was one of the few people who had known the entire story of his childhood, and the adventures of his first few years of Hogwarts, including the entire time travelled section of his third year.
He knew now of course that she had been drawn to him like a moth to a flame by her unfinished bond, but he could not honestly bring himself to worry about it. Regardless of her motivations she had been a dear friend to both himself and Hermione, very, very nearly a love interest.
Then of course he remembered those hours in riddle manor, the terror, the shame, the pain. All of it came rushing back in like it always did when he let down his guard. Growling in effort he locked the feelings back behind his mental barriers before they could overwhelm him. It was because of those barriers that he still had such a rosy memory of Fleur Delacour. It was a good thing too, because if he ever remembered the bad, it threatened to drive him insane.
He was jolted from his reminiscing by the buzzing of the timer charm in his ear. He quietly mused that it was a good thing only he could hear that noise, else it would have been a dead giveaway of their position had anyone been around to hear it.
Shifting slightly he shot a wandless charm at Mad Eye to wake him and shuffled over to Hermione to rest his mind and eyes while the old Auror took watch.
-:-
It seemed like Hermione's eyes had barely closed for sleep when they were snapping open again and she was instantly brought to full alertness by Mad Eye's charm. She looked around for a moment for any trouble and when none presented itself she settled back into her former position. She became aware of the familiar weight of Harry's body spooned behind her while he slumbered and she shifted about so she could take a moment to watch him in his sleep.
When she had first started dating Harry she had always been awake first. Being able to sleep in at her home in Oxford had been deeply therapeutic for him after the daily early starts at the Dursley residence to wash off the blood and grime from the previous day. The young woman bristled at the memory of those foul animals that thought to pose as people.
After a moment her thoughts wandered back to harry and she fondly remembered waking up in the morning to the weight of his body pressed against her back and the heat of his erection firmly wedged between the cleft of her bum. It had been a wonderful feminine feeling then, having the boy she had loved for years so obviously aroused by her body, even if only in sleep.
Now that she had seen that erection, held it in her hand, taken it into her mouth, even had it wedged into her ass briefly when Harry had shifted awkwardly during one evening of play, not only were those feminine feelings stronger, but they were heady as well. It would always be one of her favourite things to do to take him in hand and watch him come apart at her touch, or take him into her mouth and feel him shaking with the tension of holding himself in check for her.
The feeling of empowerment and trust that radiated from him in those moments was something Hermione would never, could never, forget. It helped that she knew exactly what he wanted from her, what he liked her to do most, what he himself liked to do to her most. She reached up to trace the line of his jaw, she would never admit it to anyone but Harry but she hated it when it was smooth.
There was no good reason for it, not one that someone else with different tastes couldn't dispute. But Hermione liked her man to have stubble, and as he aged she was sure she'd encourage him to grow a beard if he wanted one. The funniest thing was that even though she couldn't say exactly why she liked it so much, she could pin down the exact moment when her slight fetish had started.
-:-
It was the morning after their first night sleeping together in Oxford. She had woken up with a feeling of deep contentment and warmth wrapped around her and the feeling of a warm firm… something… that was pillowing her head. When the 'something' moved of its own accord her eyes snapped open to see an expanse of Harry's bare chest in front of her and, like all girls would, she had a moment of blind panic at what had occurred the previous night.
Nervous as to what she would find she had shifted her leg across his waist and had nearly sighed in relief to find his boxers on, though tented, and of course her own nightshirt and panties were still in place, a little ruffled, but definitely in place. Once she had catalogued this in her mind and calmed down significantly she realized exactly where she was. She was in Harry's arms, his warm, toned, wiry arms that were holding her around her waist like she was his intimately his.
Stretching slightly she relaxed back down and quietly revelled in the feelings of affection that were welling up within her. This was her man the man she had loved for at least a year, probably longer, and he was holding her so tenderly that she nearly cried with happiness. Then she glanced up and her whole world unravelled at the look of contentment and peace upon Harry's face.
It was like watching Adam himself resting, a man with no cares, no worries, no pains or traumas, he was at peace. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen; this young man, her young man, typically so filled with worries, was now at peace while he slept.
Her hand came up to caress his jaw and met with subtle resistance, his light stubble, something that she had noticed growing the previous year, was begging to become firm to the touch and lightly grazed the skin of her fingers as she brushed them over his jaw.
This one detail, such a tiny, innocuous thing, made him seem so much more real to her, he was a human being, a young man, who had to deal with shaving, and all the other things that human beings had to deal with. His erection was pressed against her thigh, morning wood indeed, his heart was thudding dully in his chest, and his stubble, such a masculine feature, was grazing the skin of her hand lightly.
In that moment she became attached to Harry's stubble, it was a symbol for her, a symbol of his life, of his realness, of his masculinity that she had found so attractive in the past. This was her man, her Harry, stubble and all.
-:-
She remembered that morning with such clarity that it startled her; she could remember the feeling of his much less muscular arms wrapped around her waist, the pressure of his chest as he drew breath. All of it was still so very real, and so very different from what she felt now. She now felt much stronger, much more familiar arms wrapped around her from behind, his chest was slightly broader, and his stubble was absent.
Most importantly though he had a new scar, one that he hadn't had before that year. It stretched from his collar bone to the base of his neck, a souvenir of his training with Neville. The older boy had sliced his skin open with an awkwardly timed blow that Harry had just missed parrying. Hermione had given the poor Longbottom scion hell for that, he should have been more careful with a beginner.
As she gazed upon her boyfriend, her soul mate, her future husband, she marvelled at how well she knew his features, when she closed her eyes she could still see his face superimposed on the backs of her eyelids, an easy memory to bring to her mind's eye. His eyes fluttered in sleep and she indulged herself a moment, diving into his mind to see what his subconscious had summoned. It was far too soon for proper dreams, but the meanderings of his unconscious mind were one in the same, Her.
To this day it took her breath away how much the messy haired young man loved her. Many times she'd caught him gazing at her with wonder in his eyes she scarce believed existed upon this earth. There were times where she didn't know if she deserved the all-consuming, perfectly altruistic love that was Harry Potter. He put aside everything for her, his own needs, his wants, his desires, everything was set down for her if she should but call.
She was ashamed to admit that early in their relationship she had taken advantage of this slightly, leading him about with her whims without really considering what she was doing. Of all people it had been her father who had pointed out just how devoted to her Harry was and that she should be careful about exactly what she asked of him.
Since then she had refrained from asking much from him at all, but that did not deter the romantic within him who demanded he give her flowers and candlelit meals whenever he could find the time. He was not imaginative, but he was persistent, passionate, and loving, and that was all she could ever ask of him, more even, than she ever would.
A chill breeze flitted through their makeshift camp and Hermione pulled her battle cloak tighter around her, shivering against the chill. A shrill sound on the wind made her prick up her ears. It was still too far off to make out clearly, but instinctively, she knew it was the scream of a dying woman, or perhaps a young boy. The vampires were feeding.
She did not so much as doze as the sounds of the approaching army got ever closer. When Moody's shift was due she woke both Harry and Mad Eye, knowing Harry would want to be awake with the enemy so close. She watched him as he paced in the darkness, a tall, lithe figure of incredible power and poise, like a jungle cat or a wolf. His wand was in his hand, spinning around his fingers like a conductor's baton. The other hand was twisting about, sparks of magic falling of it like shards of molten steel. She could feel the power pouring off him like a flood of energy that threatened to consume her. Wards of incredible strength were being erected around her and the young man didn't even notice his actions.
She couldn't help but admire his spell work at a time like this, he was subconsciously weaving wards about her person, presumably for the coming battle, or maybe just from nerves, and he was weaving them wandlessly, flawlessly, it was artless, and yet beautiful. She walked up to him and clasped his hand gently, pulling it up to her lips to kiss and halting his incessant pacing, she spoke soft words in his ear.
"Calm my love, still your fingers and contain your magic, the wards you have around me would stop a mountain, but you need your power to yourself."
Nodding tightly her man twisted his hand once more and Hermione felt the power bleed from the air around her, and pouring back into her man. In contrast to the previous outpouring, this was like a great pull, a siphon that drew everything into it. In a moment it halted however and the great suction halted and she could feel a tangible power flitting about him now; like a caged lion, desperate to be freed. When battle was joined later it would be, and the incredible power that was Harry Potter would come crashing down on his foes.
-:-
The night drew tight about the three ambushers, even as the army swarmed around them. They had appeared suddenly, though it was no surprise from the racket ten thousand undead made as they moved through the forest. The great army parted either side of the hillock the three were on, choosing the easier, quicker, ground to either side, rather than trudging up the incline. Harry was tense, his arms and legs perfectly still, though still his chest moved with the rhythm of breath.
Hermione was by his side, her wand out and the tip ever so faintly glowing with an unspoken spell ready to burst forth. There was a coiled tension about her, like she was moments away from blasting into action, he didn't doubt it for a second.
Moody was off to the right, his wand in one hand, thick battle staff in the other, Harry had enquired about the nature of the device only to be politely rebuffed, his only explanation was that it was an ancient artefact, one of great power, another thing that Harry didn't doubt for a second.
His own wand, Holly and Phoenix feather, was held loosely in hand. His other hand was clenched around a spell that he had cast earlier and kept contained. It would be his opening offensive alongside sorcery from his wand. The army around them was moving at a steady pace, not hurried, but not dawdling either. There were even rows and columns of thralls and Inferi marching endlessly. They had spotted a few hundred skeletons, and Harry wondered not for the first time where this army had come from.
The disappearances hadn't been this prolific, certainly not in the thousands needed to create this force. But at the same time it had sprung together almost suddenly, without any intel reaching the light side organizations until it was nearly fully formed. Had Valmortis brought in reinforcements from the continent? Were there other sources of magical beings Valmortis could have slaughtered under the radar? How old was this army? Were parts of it from Voldemort's first reign, only now being utilised?
Harry had no answers, but he did have a purpose, and it was making a hell of a racket. The three ambushers had spotted the giant's radial footprint fairly easily, but it was still several hundred meters out and still invisible to their eyes. That would change soon.
When the first undead had appeared between the trees Hermione had nearly shrieked in protest, many of the Inferi were muggles, still dressed in their clothes, and yet more innocents had been dragged along in chains by the group of vampires that had been accompanying the main group. Harry suspected they were auxiliaries to increase the utility and durability of the main unit. Especially with its valuable payload.
Speaking of that payload it was painfully obvious where it was, Harry couldn't see the trees cracking and breaking in the pitch darkness, but he could hear it, clearly. He turned to Mad eye and nodded his head, the plan called for them to take staggered positions along the ridge, Harry and Hermione much closer to the entrance of the valley than Mad eye, the two teens would attack first, firing everything they had at the undead giant to, hopefully, bring it down in one strike, Mad eye would then throw launch a barrage of boulders down into the valley, hopefully delaying and damaging as many undead as he could. Once that was done he would turn his fire to the giant bringing it down if Harry and Hermione's combined firepower hadn't already done the job.
Focussing hard the two teens blinked further down the valley and nearly staggered as the giant was revealed to them. Harry hadn't really considered what an undead giant would look like, he hadn't been ready for the mountain of rotting flesh and bone that was this unholy monstrosity. It's flesh looked to be about to slough off into the forest and even as they watched it push down a tree some of its skin peeled away to reveal the sick rotted meat beneath. Forcing down their gag reflexes at the horrendous stench the two teens raised their wands, and as one, cast their most powerful detonation sorcels at its chest.
A monumental wave of noise slapped into them a moment later as a titanic explosion rocked the valley and gore erupted from the giant's chest like an exploding watermelon. With a horrific sound of grinding bone and snapping ligaments the giant folded over backwards from the force of the blast, it's spine snapping at the waist and it's thighs popping out of the front of its thighs like grotesque gophers poking out of the ground.
A half second later a tremendous rumbling shook the ground as Moody's spells took effect, sending several tons of rock down into the valley floor where they would obstruct the passage of the undead for at least a little while and hopefully decimate some of them in their downward trajectory. Harry took a deep breath and looked at Hermione before they both nodded once, sending another massively overpowered sorcel down into the remains of the giant.
This time the detonation didn't reach them for nearly a full second, but when it did it rocked them back on their heels from the sheer violence of the noise. What little remained of the giant's torso was obliterated messily and gore fountained into the night. They felt a twinge on the backs of their necks, Moody's single to leave, and without another word they disapparated back to Hogsmeade, Moody right behind them.
It had been a success.
-:-
Back in the valley pandemonium reigned, vampires were shrieking in the night from the pain of crushed bones, undead were lying splattered with gore in the mud, the remains of the undead giant were still smoking thickly, and the fetid stench of death was omnipresent. Among this devastation a pair of figures walked between the surviving ranks of the undead, heading to the top of the valley; a young woman and a slightly older man.
Valmortis of course, was the man, and Epine, his constant companion, the young woman. They surveyed the damage grimly for several minutes before Valmortis spoke.
"Potter has grown strong of late, he and his mudblood wench. That they had the capacity to do this with only two spells each… it is concerning. With the dark lord's gaze turned to the prophecy, and his death eater lackeys occupied I haven't had the resources to operate a counter intelligence network, clearly that has had troubling results here."
He fell silent, Epine knew that he would talk more soon; he needed her to be silent for him, so she was, gladly. The silence stretched for nearly a minute as the two unlikely companions watched the ranks of shuffling undead slowly organise themselves into a cohesive unit again, eventually Valmortis spoke again, as she had known he would.
"This army is going to fail."
The simple statement didn't surprise Epine, she'd known this for months, undead were far too ponderous a weapon to defeat wizards, her master was evidence of that. She had a feeling he wanted her to voice her opinion, a slight nagging in the back of her mind, but dutifully she stayed silent, waiting for his call.
"This target of children and one old man was too opportune for me to ignore, they knew this, they understood this, and we understood this. I built this army months ago in the knowledge that they would need to direct it somewhere, to put resources into defending against it. This army, will fail, but we will not."
He fell silent again and Epine thanked her stars she hadn't spoken, he was so very angry when interrupted.
"The prophecy is pivotal, Voldemort," the name was spoken with such disdain, "Will put his every effort into getting hold of it, we want this to come to pass, he must possess the prophecy for without it he will not target Potter. The boy is the object of the prophecy, this much he knows, but not the extent. He'll try to take it in the coming days as my army hits the castle, while the defenders of the light are occupied dealing with their fallen family members, Tom will be taking the prophecy, or at least trying to."
Epine waited, though she sensed he wanted her opinion, still the voice in the back of her mind said: "Not yet."
"He will fail just as soundly as this army will. He will come up against a brick wall of Aurors still stationed there who will shred his precious death eaters to dust, the few he has left anyway, and then how will he get his prophecy? He'll need me, and he'll need you my precious Thistle. Having us there will draw Potter and Dumbledore. The aurors will be battered from the battle at the ministry, and at Hogwarts, Potter, Dumbledore, his pathetic vigilante Order, and Potter's wench, will be the only ones available to counter the threat. That's when we'll kill the old man, and leave the boy vengeful."
It was nearly there, he'd ask her soon.
"He'll go after Voldemort even harder, seeing our actions as an extension of his, they'll tear each other to pieces."
He turned to her, his beautiful cold eyes looking at her with such tenderness she wished she had a beating heart to feel it race.
"Then you'll be free to carry on my name sweet Epine, my sweet second death. What do you think?"
There it was.
"I love it father, it will be perfect, and more so, it will be so much fun, at last, something to do that doesn't involve these disgusting creatures."
The smile that lit upon his face would be by any other name a snarl, but to her it was beautiful.
-:-
Hogwarts was quiet as the three ambushers walked through the empty halls, several times they crossed paths with Regimental patrols out and about, once even an Auror who looked at the end of his nerve. As they turned into Umbridge's classroom they halted at the array of people assembled therein. Umbridge was there of course, as was Dumbledore, Captain Fletcher, and to Harry and Hermione's great surprise, Parvarti; someone must have woken her from slumber.
The three returning defenders spread out in front of the map table and gave their reports succinctly, little was said by anyone in the room as they got through the meat of their explanation, when they detailed their success though there was a collective relaxation from all present, and only then did Harry realize he, and apparently everyone else, had been tense and uptight. This victory, if only an ambush, represented a major blow against the forces arrayed against them, before the ambush there had been a fairly major chance that the castle would have been demolished and it's defenders flattened, but now with the giant gone, the battle to come felt almost trivial in comparison.
-:-
Parvarti watched Harry and Hermione head back to their quarters after the briefing and felt a well of emotion rise up in her, so many things could have happened tonight: success, failure of varying degrees, not going on the mission at all and having to suffer the consequences. But her two friends had gone, with Mad Eye of all people, and had succeeded. So why did she feel so empty? She rushed along the corridor and quickly caught up with them, clasping her two squad mates by the elbows and gently urging them to turn and face her. When she saw the apology in their eyes she launched herself forwards into a hug and held them close for a moment before letting go.
"I'm so glad you two are okay. I was a pissed when I realized you two had gone without me, but I figured you were just so caught up together in your heads that I was left out of the loop in such a stressful situation. It's okay; really, I guess I just feel a little disappointed that I couldn't be a help."
She dipped her head and eyed her shoes, friends or not, squad mates or not, she respected these two greatly, perhaps even more than many of the teachers at the school; Harry because of his ability to bring out the talents in just about anyone, and his fantastic leader like charisma. And Hermione because of her twin talents of passion and intelligence, never mind her gorgeous figure. They truly were the leaders of the school Dumbledore be damned. A firm hand took her chin and lifted her head to meet Harry's eyes.
"We're sorry, we promise to include you next time something goes down."
Pavarti nearly wept at the relief that flooded through her, despite all the reassurances, despite her own talents, despite her tactically and strategically sound decisions that had proven to both these two wonderful people that she was worthy of their time, being left out tonight had dealt a harsh blow to her self-esteem and these few words from harry meant the world to her.
-:-
The morning of the battle dawned brightly and the Hogwarts defenders arrayed themselves out around the battlements of the castle, and further ahead in the quad. Fortifications had been conjured the day before and spelled into permanence before being bolstered with strengthening magic. Dozens of defenders were organised into strategic locations, magical triage locations were stationed about the castle and the Regimental command squad was moving about the regiment, reassuring the squads of teens that they would be the victors today, nothing would breach the kill box if they had anything to say about it.
It all felt very medieval to Hermione who had read accounts of sieges from various historical texts, and that was only compounded when she looked to the horizon around lunch time to see it black with encroaching undead.
Walking down the bridge to the castle was a lone figure, a white flag of surrender held draped over one arm. There were no illusions about what he was there for, this would be a meeting with their enemy, then a slaughter.
From the castle strode the four great pillars of leadership, Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Alastor Moody, and Alain Fletcher, four ancient warriors, and a teen prodigy fighting to conceal his glowing eyes with a spell.
They met in the centre of the bridge about twenty meters apart and Valmortis, for it could only be him, tossed the flag over the ramparts of the bridge, watching it fall to the valley floor before speaking. His thick accent was smoother than normal, but still far rougher than most.
"I offer you one chance, to give up this castle, and your resistance, peacefully, and painlessly. I have no wish to spill blood overmuch, but I will if I must."
Harry, finally successful with his spell to conceal the glowing irises he was currently sporting chanced a look at their foe. He was wearing a shiny white lacquered vest of scaled leather that Harry guessed was dragon's hide, a thick woollen cloak was draped about his shoulders and similar breeches of wool appeared from beneath his vest alongside a long sleeved dress shirt Harry could imagine in a Harrods display window.
Dumbledore's reply didn't surprise anyone.
"That won't be happening Tyseus, and we're not about to let this army wander away either. This ends today."
Obviously nothing more needed be said as the black garbed man turned and walked away to his hordes and Harry wondered briefly why all four of them had come out here if so little needed to be said. Silently the defenders turned back to the castle and Harry asked across the bond.
"Love, has Seamus got an accurate number yet?"
The response from Hermione chilled his blood.
"Fifteen thousand love. There are fifteen thousand undead, give or take about a hundred."
Harry dutifully relayed the information to the rest of the parlay party and they all stood stock still for a moment. Dumbledore's soft words chilled Harry's spine.
"Dear Merlin, save us."
-:-
AN3: Oh gawd, I can't even remember if Harry still has glasses in my story it's been so long since I've referenced them at all. Did I give him new ones? Contacts? Magical fix? *grips head in worry* I don't know. If anyone does know or has the patience to trawl through the three hundred thousand odd words of this story for a solution I'd be glad to hear it. Also, for the sake of clarity: I made a mistake in several chapters mid-way through Web of Lies, whereby I referenced that Padma, not Parvati, would be Harry and Hermione's third in the command squad, this is a mistake, Parvati is the correct third member, not her twin. It's not hugely important which twin the third is, except for continuity's sake, and I made strong hints in both this and World of Deceit, that I wanted Parvati to eventually be in this position. Padma would have been completely out of the blue, also someone informed me that I've been spelling Parvati, Pavarti, this whole time… *sigh* *face palm* one more thing to fix later.
On another note, HOLY SHITE IS THIS A CHAPTER? Yeah… I decided I needed to have another one up soonish…? as a sort of apology for my atrocious update schedule lately, so I hunkered down and tapped this thing out in something like ten hours of writing and editing and… well snacks. On another note, I'm super tired now…. G'night *snores*
AN5: Review Responses:
Firstly, there were a bunch of reviews that I got lately for World of Deceit with people having some valid, and some not so valid, gripes about the direction and content of the story. I'm just going to put a blanket apology down because I don't have the patience to answer them all. So, sorry that my personal work of fiction doesn't meet your imaginative ideals. Now, onto responses from this story.
JKarr: If the battle with the giant seemed anticlimactic… well it was supposed to be… sorry.
Mustangmark: Thanks for your vote of support! Always nice to know someone is going to stick around.
Beyondthesea: Desperate times call for desperate measures yeah? Dumbledore is juggling the lives of everyone in Britain right now, every decision is going to put some group of people at risk to save another.
Anotherboarduser: I'm happy to keep writing, sometimes it just takes a while, but thanks for your support anyway.
Shadowdragon: I'm glad you're feeling better firstly, and secondly I'm going to be sketching out ideas for some more… militaristic sorcels, things that can be used en masse without interfering with each other but that's more of a personal project. Either way things are clipping along nicely.
BH: Thank you very much. Nice to know someone thinks so
Kisa Tracer: *salutes* sir yes sir
Texan-muggle: ;.; there are still so many mistakes in my writing, thanks for keeping out an eagle eye.
Vysirez: It was only a small mention in one of the chapters so I'll forgive you for missing it, but yes, the issue with his back was recently exacerbated, both by the events after the third task and by the paralysis potion that Ginny Weasley dosed him with. It would be easy for me to say that they caused a chain reaction with everything else that happened to him, but in reality it's just the mundane situation of someone who's had too much abuse heaped on them over the years, I know people in real life with similar afflictions.
As for your concern over why Harry hasn't confronted Dumbledore, he did, at the end of 'deceit' there's a paragraph that talks about how Harry flies off the rails a bit. I didn't make the argument explicit for reasons that escape me now but suffice it to say that their issues have been aired. As for why he hasn't gone to Dumbledore about the issues with his back? Harry and Hermione both would agree that even Dumbledore can't be blamed for that, especially when so many things had to coincide for it to happen.
Okay, the power levels issue. A couple of people irl have asked me about this and I admit, I didn't make this in any way clear, so I'll elucidate: In the graveyard Voldemort was newly reborn, his strength was probably at about half, or even a third, of its norm, hence why Harry was able to go toe to toe with him including the bond with Fleur. The fact that he is so much stronger is why there is such a mad scramble to find ways to artificially boost Harry and Hermione's power. Why is Voldemort so powerful? Trust me when I say that will be explained in time, for now just know that he has more than one soul floating about in there.
As for the Dumbledore/students issue. There are a few things that make this far more believable than would be suggested on the surface: Firstly Dumbledore is a pureblood, this means that his power levels will naturally be lower than a half blood or muggle born. Secondly Dumbledore's power at his peak was probably about an '8', but he is indescribably old, he's lost a lot of that power over the years to a variety of things, now he's probably closer to a six. Finally harry and Hermione aren't extraordinarily strong in and of themselves, they had to work hard for their power, and their soul bond multiplies that power significantly, the three students of Tyrant Squad are simply winners of the genetic lottery, combined with the Regiment's training regime, they are likely to live for many hundreds of years if they don't get struck down by disease or violence. Finally the 'power balance' issues in the soul bond, this is pretty easy to explain tbh, while they have access to each other's power levels they very rarely draw on each other or the bond itself, in ordinary situations Harry is a touch stronger than Hermione magically speaking and so this is what we see in everyday life, if he and Hermione were to both draw on the bond simultaneously you'd see identical power levels.
Phew, that was a long reply, thanks for your questions, if you have any more please don't hesitate to ask.
FPyearsofrebellion: Thank you very much for your words of praise. I've addressed the Pavarti/Padma issues already in the AN, hopefully to your satisfaction.
Hogwertghost: wat….? Thanks for your review, but I honestly understood very little of it.
God of all: Thanks!
Okay, we're around the halfway mark in terms of sheer content, but the timeline is nearly finished, the next eight chapters or so are going to be much more detailed accounts of shorter periods of time, rather than the somewhat sweeping chapters previous. Hopefully you're all savvy with that. Join us next time for Chapter Twelve: Morbid, wherein the first Battle of Hogwarts occurs, and… well that's really about it. Thanks for Reading and other Shenanigans. See you next time!
LGreymark