AN: *Insert huffy disclaimer here*

AN2: Warning! Graphic Rape of a minor ahead I honestly recommend you skip that entire section if you're weak of stomach or mind, there'll be a warning before the section so you know what part to avoid. Honestly this whole chapter is pretty grim and unpleasant, things probably won't be getting nicer for a while either :/

-:-

Chapter Seventeen: Broken

"One's away!"

The sharp exclamation from Tracey was something Daphne was no stranger to that night, nor was the sharp snapping sound as her rifle discharged. A Russian mercenary at the edge of Daphne's scope spun to the cobbles fountaining blood from a gaping wound in the side of their head. Daphne gave her own statement of discharge as she squeezed the trigger and leant into the rifle stock as it kicked back against her sending a 7.62 millimetre round screaming down into the press of confused Russian wizards and witches. One unfortunate soul slumped to the ground clutching at their throat where her bullet had penetrated.

She worked the lever of her weapon ejecting the spent cartridge and slamming another into the breach with machine-like speed and precision as she sighted in again and fired another shot just as Tracey did to her left. Susan wasn't feeding her targets today, there were just too many of them, instead she had started laying waste with her Minimi and let Tracey and Daphne loose. Breath in, work the lever, breath out, squeeze, breath in, work the lever, breath out, squeeze. The rhythm was seared into her muscles and bones so often had she repeated the task.

The muggle square was lit with bright electrical lighting but otherwise it was pitch black. Without the artificial light it would be impossible to spot the black cloaked Russian attackers. As she worked the lever she also counted two numbers out, one ascending, and one descending. The first number was how many shots she'd fired, each one a killing blow. The other was how many rounds she had left in the magazine of her weapon. She'd reloaded twice already.

The Russians had attacked a town in southern wales. Over a hundred and fifty of them sent to storm the village and, presumably, take hostages, or captives. The regiment had arrived barely a minute after they had and the battle was joined rapidly with Regimentals keeping up their steady hail of shots in an alternating pattern with the machine gunners in each squad reaping a heavy toll.

They had portkeyed directly into the town with an obliviators squad inbound from the ministry to contain the populace while they did their grim work. Two fire teams had spread out either side of the main square where the Russians had made their way and a deadly crossfire was soon established. Medic Squad had entered the town hall, empty at such a late hour, and a command post was soon established with busybody squad holding the doors. The angels meanwhile had dashed to the top of the bell tower and had set up their sniper nest as quickly as possible while the last fire team had swept around the outside of the town hoping to hem the Russians in.

There were a lot more of them this time and the fighting was much closer. Already the Tyrant squad had drawn wands to engage the Russians (who had charged the gun line) in close quarters. The steady chatter of fire from Daphne's right was only slightly distracting as she and Tracey kept up their rhythm firing a shot every breath in a simultaneous beat.

Some of the Russians had wised up and were conjuring heavy stone walls in front of them to hide behind and it was becoming a real nuisance as more and more of the battlefield became clustered with thick walls that the service rifles and Miminis couldn't reach through. Those were the targets Daphne and Tracey sought out. Suddenly a large circle behind the barricades was cleared out and several of the Russians formed a kneeling ritual circle.

She reacted immediately firing a shot at the nearest chanter but her bullet seemed to veer around the wizard and plough into the cobbles at his side. Baffled she worked the lever and fired another shot which too went wide. Slightly panicked she spoke into her communicator even as Tracey kept firing.

"Harry, ritual circle in the middle, some kind of spell is preventing us from firing on them accurately."

-:-

Harry swore under his breath, and then swore louder as a Russian sorcel smashed into the side of the stone plating box he was crouched behind, showering him with chips of stone. He shared a look with Hermione and Parvati before nodding and gesturing up and over and calling an order over the communicating brooch to attack.

The Aegis barrier slipped over their vision as Aegis squad exploded into motion with intense concentration, Tyrant squad was already embattled so all the command squad and the Vixens had to do was follow them in. On the other side of the square Purepower, Bitesize and Think tank all sprang into motion too, though without the Aegis to protect them.

All it took was a vault over the planter and all of a sudden Harry was surrounded by spellfire. The Aegis shield was nearly perfect but against the wall of spells that met them as they charged forwards even it ended up with gaps in its defence. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Harry absently batted a sorcel away with his duellist's shield, his own wand flicking in a tight motion to fire a tiny cutting sorcel straight into the eye of his attacker.

There was barely a dozen meters between them and the mass of Russian wizards who had been caught flat footed in the middle of the square, burning houses in their wake. So almost directly after Harry batted that sorcel aside he was in the thick of combat, his sorcery blade stabbing through the chin of one burly Russian before he ripped it free, turning to fight the next opponent.

Who knew what that ritual circle could bring forth? He really didn't think they were prepared to fight something like a lich. Even just a translocated giant would be bad enough. If the Angels couldn't disrupt the ritual they would have to fight their way to the centre of the mob and do it themselves.

He fired a wandless concussion hex from his offhand straight into the chest of a lithe witch who had the killing curse on her lips before flicking his wand at another, a jap piercing his victim's forehead and spraying brain matter over the mercenaries behind. He was about to decapitate another Russian when he was knocked off his feet and tossed to the dirt, a massive hole in the side of his head.

"We've got your back Harry, just keep pushing."

Clearly Daphne had figured out his plan and even as Harry began to push forwards again a steady stream of wizards and witches crumpled to the ground before him from the focused fire of the snipers above. Roaring in triumph he charged into the new channel in the Russian lines with the entire fire team behind him pushing outwards like a wedge. His magic began to flare and obliterate the foes Daphne and Tracey couldn't reach, wizards and witches alike before him disintegrated, were knocked aside, or simply ceased to be. He vaulted over a low wall and sprinted the last few yards, sorcels flicking from his wand ineffectually at the ritual circle. He was almost within striking range with his sorcerous blade when the low droning of the chanters suddenly rose to a fever pitch and he was tossed bodily from his feet.

The world around him seemed to blur as he tumbled back across the ground and impacted heavily into the wall he had just vaulted over. He felt something inside him crack and a thunderous roar met his ears, far more terrifying than anything he had ever heard before.

-:-

Hermione screamed in equal parts terror and helplessness as Harry was tossed from his feet just a few meters in front of her and was quickly sent tumbling past the brunette. She couldn't even stop to help him as the same impact buffeted her hard and threatened to toss her too, back into the press. Given the split second of warning Harry wasn't and impacted by a slightly less massive shockwave she was able to dig her feet in and instinctively throw up a barrier to protect her from the worst of the blast. Her vision greyed out from the incredible GeForces buffeting her body and the dust swirling around her, when at last her vision cleared it was to a sight of terror.

Standing tall, high above the square was a terrific monstrosity of darkness and ebon flesh. Bat like wings of black fire stretched from its shoulders and its shapeless visage imitated the void with its light defying darkness. A lich, the bastards had summoned a lich, again. She scrambled backwards, not wanting to be anywhere near the horrific flaming creature even as it turned its attention to her. Harry must have still been alive and conscious because she could feel his magic flowing into her as she flung out both hands pouring energy into a shield, and not a moment too soon.

Power the likes of which she had never experienced slammed into her hastily erected barrier and suddenly she knew exactly how Victor Krum had felt last year during the duelling tournament. An incredible beam of lightless energy was pounding down into her on a harsh angle that threatened to force her to her knees. Then, abruptly, it stopped.

She looked up to see the lich reeling from some kind of impact to its head and even as she watched it was struck again, throwing a hand up in front of its face in an impotent gesture top protect itself it howled in outrage. Daphne's panicked voice came over the comms once again.

"Get the hell out of there Hermione! We can't keep this thing pinned forever!"

Heeding her friend's words she dashed backwards and hoisted Harry up by the arms. Parvati was there in an instant helping. She looked terrified; Hermione guessed she probably did too. The three of them stumbled backwards from ground zero even as an even more thunderous roar ripped out from the mass of souls behind them. She turned just in time to see a beam of energy from the creature's palm dart out and engulf the bell tower where the Angels had been firing.

Hermione felt numb as the top of the bell tower exploded into a couple million shards of stone and rubble. Distantly, she heard Neville's bellow of rage and fear. Hermione had no time to mourn. The Russians had routed by this point, barely a dozen of them had remained after the concerted attack by the Regiment, but that lich was still very much a threat.

Harry was mostly on his own feet by now, she could tell through their bond that his back had taken most of the impact and he probably had a shattered rib, but he was still functioning, if only at fifty percent. His eyes were locked on where the bell tower had been a moment ago, a massive cloud of dust still obscuring their view of what she was sure would be rubble.

Harry's mind seemed blank to her as he stood fully and brought his wand to bear. For a moment time seemed to simply stop as the air was sucked in around him. Matter itself seemed to warp towards the tip of his wand. And then a shapeless roar left his lips and a beam of magic so hot it turned blue tore from his wand and slammed into the lich's flank.

The magic tore into the creature, shearing its side away like so much gravel when hit by the thundering surf. Its coal black innards seemed to free fall for a second before the flames on the surface of its body caught the falling graphite and a titanic explosion ripped through the square. Tossing the Regimentals who had strayed too close from their feet and pitching them up against the buildings around the square.

Her eyes were riveted to the point where the undead creature had been standing a moment ago and her lips were moving in silent prayer that it was defeated. But to no avail. The horrific shape of the lich's reforming body lurched unsteadily out of the dust cloud and one massive hand seemed to shoot out towards them.

She met it instinctively with a detonation curse which was met by two others from her sides as it slammed into the encroaching appendage which was then thrown aside. The lich roared again, this time in frustration. They met it again with curses, flinging them with as much speed as they could into centre mass of the creature. Their efforts tore open another hole in the chest of the undead monstrosity which quickly detonated, tearing more of its energy away. It had actually noticeably shrunk in size now and was no more than a meter taller than Hagrid.

The rest of the Regiment seemed to get the idea and soon curses were rippling out from the still standing members and pummelling the summoned undead. It twisted and turned, roaring in its impotence as it was struck from all sides. They didn't let up for a second and continued to slam curse after curse into its light defying shape.

Occasionally the creature struck back a beam of nothingness lancing out to impact the ground where one of the Regimentals had been standing a moment before. But everyone kept moving and before long, the lich was barely taller than Harry. He reared back and with a thrusting motion like the jab of a sword a single sorcel ripped out and obliterated what was left of the creature.

The dust settled for a moment before Harry slumped to his knees, and would have pitched forwards into the cobbles if Hermione was not there to support him. She heard him mumble

"Tired, going… to sleep now."

She grunted with the effort of keeping him upright and cradled him against her chest. He was just exhausted from the massive outpouring of magic he had just let loose.

She looked around the square at the Regimentals getting to their feet and her eyes locked on the ruined bell tower again.

"Oh no"

-:-

Neville scrambled through the rubble, Susan was in there, somewhere. He knew she loved Harry more than him, he didn't care; he needed her.

His corded arms strained as he tossed bits of fallen masonry aside, desperately searching for the girl, the woman, who had captured his heart. Was she even alive?

She had to be alive, there was no conceivable situation where she could be dead, it wasn't possible… it wasn't…

Suddenly someone else was there, it was Fred and he was using his wand to move the rubble. Idiot, why didn't he think of that?

Together, in frantic silence they moved as much of the rubble as they could, they heard a groan.

George and Lee were there now too, helping to move the last bits and pieces away from the sound. Someone was faintly calling for help, not the faintly that was caused by distance, but rather fatigue.

He worked harder.

At last they shifted the remains of a shattered door from the pile and sheltered beneath it were three bodies. Neville had eyes only for Susan, she was unconscious, that was clear, and blood was running down from her temple. She needed help, now.

He barely noticed someone pulling him back, yelling in his ear. He didn't care what the person had to say, he didn't care whatever it was. He had to help her. He fought against them, flailing at the restraining limbs.

He heard a shout and everything went black.

-:-

Fred put his wand away, he hated having to stun the boy but there was no way the girls could be moved right now, they might have back injuries, moving them could be fatal. They'd all taken the battlefield first aid course for the sake of safety; Neville clearly hadn't got his wits about him right now.

He placed a thick but squat brass cylinder on the ground and carefully slipped a multi-faceted crystal the size of his fist into the recess. A quick tap of his wand and the portkey beacon was active and within moments an Auror Medic team was there, assessing the damage. Medic squad from the Regiment was already assessing the injuries, Tracey was still conscious apparently and had been the one who was calling for help.

Fred stepped back from the rubble and stumbled backwards into the arms of his twin, suddenly aware of how fatigued he was. George's voice rattled through his mind.

"Sit down Forge, you just need to sit down a while brother."

Sitting down sounded perfect right about then.

-:-

Dan looked out across the square where the Regiment had fought, it looked like a muggle warzone. Bullet holes everywhere, smashed buildings and cars, craters in the ground where that… thing, had unleashed its fury. He kicked at the tire of a car and swore. This was a disaster. Fifteen injured Regimentals, three critically wounded and under constant medical supervision at the manor. Hermione had absolutely refused to let them be at St Mungos where they would be open targets to Valmortis.

Nearly a dozen of the Russians had escaped and Intel would clearly be getting back to Valmortis now. The Regiment had erected anti apparition wards but the Russians all seemed to have had portkeys. Moreover the Statute of Secrecy was in threat. The Muggles memories had been modified but the damage here… it defied belief. No single explosion could have caused this. And the damage to seemingly random parts of the square would rule out something that universal anyway.

It looked like a tank had rolled through here he thought blithely.

Huh, maybe a tank 'could' have rolled through there.

-:-

There were many familiar ceilings for Harry to wake up to: Hermione's room at the Oxford house, the Regimental quarters in Hogwarts, the Hospital wing at Hogwarts… but this was by far his favourite. The master suite at Potter manor had an incredible frieze painted on it depicting many geometrical shapes and patterns that were stunning to follow with one's eye. He simply lay there for a moment amusing him by following the contours of the artful decoration.

After a moment of peaceful observation he tried to twist to the side, and immediately regretted it. A sharp stabbing pain lanced from his side right through his chest and up into his brain where it fed a burgeoning headache. Groaning in discomfort he lay back and was almost immediately enveloped in a very Hermionish hug. Gingerly he wrapped his arms about her and let her sob into his shoulder for a few moments as their minds blended together again, washing away the fears she had whenever he was laid up in bed.

Then it all came rushing back as to why he was laid up and he asked aloud.

"Do we need to hold a funeral?"

Hermione shook her magnificent head against his shoulder and he breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived.

"Not yet love, things are still touch and go for Daphne, Susan and Tracey are okay, somehow. Apparently Daphne managed to take the brunt of the impact on a shield and the other two had already abandoned their sniper's nest, and were heading down the stairs. The only reason Daphne was still up there was to give them an extra moment if the lich fired a shot, which it did. The Auror medic unit you gave access to the wards has been working on her non-stop since the battle."

He groaned in unhappiness at the news. Of the three girls who had danced around him for years now he knew Daphne the best. It would be typical that the biggest snake of all would act so much like him when it mattered most.

"How is she doing?"

"I have no idea."

"Help me up, I need to see her."

Hermione shot him with a look he took a moment to decipher, when he did he smiled softly and kissed her.

"You are my love Hermione, but she is still my friend."

She nodded once and helped him up.

-:-

It seemed like the entire Regiment was packed around the walls of the informal dining hall which had been reconfigured into an impromptu triage, a dozen of other Regimentals were laid out on beds, most of them seemed to be fine, if sleeping, but there were a handful of people still clustered around one of the beds. Neville of course was holding Susan's hand while she slept.

As providence would have it the Auror medics stepped back from the table and a female approached him with a grim set to her face.

"We've done all we can, she suffered massive internal injuries where she was knocked about by both the initial impact and the rubble that fell around her. We've fixed what we could and restored her lost blood but the trauma could have damaged her brain to the point where she won't wake. There are some things even magic can't fix."

Patting his arm she ran her wand over him quickly before speaking again

"Your rib is healing fine, no heavy exertion for the next six hours and you'll be tip top."

She looked back at the table again before shaking her head and walking back to the portkey seal. Slightly dazed Harry walked forwards and sank into a conjured chair at Daphne's side. Hermione sat in his lap and snuggled against the good side of his chest before promptly falling asleep, he had no idea what time it was and she had to have been awake for hours.

Turning his attention back to his injured friend and admirer he observed her silently; she was at peace, that was for certain, though he suspected that was more the quality of the dreamless sleep potion's she would be under rather than any deficit in her mind.

All in all she looked fine, they had done a perfect job of cleaning up the bruises and broken limbs he guessed must have been abundant after such an event. Cautiously he took her hand and gently held it with both his own, trying to impart some form of comfort to the girl who had become such a good friend. Who had, with the rest of her squad, drawn the attention of the lich away from his lover so that Hermione could escape.

Quietly he prayed in thanks that she had saved Hermione's life, and that she would come back to them. He needed every friend he could get.

-:-

The ministry was in uproar. Amelia didn't know which way to turn as people rushed about, a hundred and fifty Russians had portkeyed onto British soil and started attacking the populace. Moreover just days after a war force of German wizards had done exactly the same thing. Thankfully the Regiment had stopped both attacks before a tremendous loss of life had occurred by this was getting out of hand.

It had gone beyond the point of a simple terrorist attack now, this was actually teetering on war. The Russians had long been magical enemies of Britain, and it was a near thing that she had declared open war on Russia after the attack, the news that some of the Regiment were in critical condition only exacerbated this rage. These were the heroes of Hogwarts, the saviours of Dorchester. They were experienced fighters and the Russians had attacked a lightly populated town to draw them out, and then ambush them with necromancy with the intent to kill as many of the Regimentals as possible.

The report from Hermione indicated that the lich had gone straight for her when it noticed Harry was already incapacitated. That maybe even indicated that the Russians had not only made a deliberate strike against a standing military force of the country, but tried to assassinate its leaders. As far as Amelia was concerned the French could suck some frogs, Harry Potter wasn't leaving the island if she had anything to do about it, and they needed him and his Regiment here. Not on the continent where he could be assassinated by Russian or German assailants. Or even the French for that matter.

No, it was time she put the hammer down and gave open political support to Mr Potter and the First Hogwarts Regiment, and let the chips fall where they may.

-:-

Far south in the depths of a rainy valley a sharp whiplash crack echoed through the air and Valmortis unfolded himself from the act of apparition. His pale hand came up to wield the knocker on the ancient teak doors of Riddle manor. But before he could they swung open to reveal Epine. Standing there in her beauty she looked fantastic. He stooped over her hand as he brought it to his lips.

"So fair my daughter, you have become quite the power."

The relationship between himself and his creation had grown strange, and slightly sour, over the last few months. After the battle of Hogwarts he had been forced to essentially cage her here with Tom while he went across the world to collect willing fodder for his plans. The Russians it seemed had struck gold tonight. Beyond Epine's enclosure in this tomb of a house however was something deeper in her mind that Valmortis was worried about, an unsettled nature to her soulless mind that he did not trust.

She was silent, as ever, and led him deeper into the house, the doors closing silently behind them with a snap. He was quite blind in the pitch darkness of the unlit house but he trusted Epine to lead him unfalteringly to his goal, she knew his desires like he knew the back of his wand.

After barely a minute of wending through the ancient house she stopped and opened a door before stepping back to allow him entrance.

He stepped into the well lit room; several flickering candles provided a greater level of light than his eyes had been used to in the darkened home and even the moonlit night outside. Immediately he spotted the boy. Blonde haired and skinny like his pathetic father.

"Draco, I see our master saw fit to extricate you from Azkaban."

The teenager was arrogant as ever and simply sneered. Behind the boy was a tall armchair facing the fire, the skeletal hand of his… 'master' could be seen resting on the closest arm of the wingback.

"Now, now Tyseus, be nice."

Valmortis merely rolled his eyes before glancing to the fourth occupant of the room; a rather attractive young girl with striking red hair and a stunning pale complexion. She was kneeling, and she was nude. Valmortis raised one dark eyebrow

"Entertainment my lord? I thought you above such things."

The bald creature in the wingback snorted, a strange sound coming from one usually so regal.

"We are only following your example Tyseus, she will make an excellent servant, once Draco here breaks her will."

Ah, that explained the sneer, he did have something to be 'cocky' about.

"Well by all means don't let me get in the way of the boy attaining his manhood. Will I need to brew a potion to make sure everything goes… smoothly?"

A soft cold chuckle rolled from the snake like lips of the thing he called master.

"Severus has already expressed those concerns; We told him he could make the judgement himself."

"A wise decision?"

"Indeed"

It was perhaps the most words he had ever exchanged with Lord Voldemort in a row. Draco looked furious, but remained silent. He gestured to the door.

"Get out boy, and take the girl with you, I have something to discuss with our lord not meant for your ears."

The child grabbed the redhead by the hair and dragged her from the room only stopping outside to admire Epine.

"I see the Veela bitch has had an upgrade."

A sharp snarl from Epine made the boy move along quite quickly. Shaking his head at the idiocy of the blond headed child he moved to stand beside his 'master's' chair and took a knee before speaking.

"The Russians met with success, the lich they summoned managed to inflict severe casualties on Potter's band of children before it was destroyed. They will be inactive for the near future."

Voldemort swirled a glass of crimson liquid Valmortis couldn't rightly place the origins of, it looked like blood, but who knew with that monster.

"It frustrates Us that the Potter boy has become such a threat in such a short space of time, he destroyed your army, he has killed your mercenaries. Perhaps it is you that is lacking Tyseus, have you considered that, friend?"

The creature's voice always grated on his ears but he reminded himself that it wouldn't be for much longer. He was nearly ready, Epine, was nearly ready

"He persists futilely, undead can be resurrected, mercenaries can be replaced, but he loses one of his friends and he cannot get them back. This is a war of attrition he cannot win."

"And how long until the muggles get involved and lay waste to this entire valley Tyseus? We are not foolish, their nuclear weapons are just as dangerous to a wizard as they are a city."

Valmortis smirked

"This actually works in our favour lord, the enemy does not wish the statute to be broken, so we can cause a mild amount of destruction where we strike and they will do all the clean-up for us, meanwhile we slaughter muggles, kill those brats and eliminate worthless mercenaries that could be used against us when we invade Europe."

The 'Regiment's' use of muggle firearms was concerning, their battle efficiency was much higher than he would have thought possible, but it was not insurmountable, he just needed more dangerous bodies to throw at them.

"You have thought this out well Our servant. Do you have anything more to report?"

"The children are wielding muggle firearms, obviously their magical strength is not sufficient to fight against adults so they have to resort to toys to defend themselves."

It was a half-truth, he knew full well that they were powerful in their own right. But those weapons were still their main ordinance now.

"Go, continue your work, but take the Nosferatu with you, she and Draco cannot exist under the same roof anymore."

Valmortis nearly hissed with frustration, it would slow him greatly to have to bring her with him, but he would cope.

"Yes my lord."

He retreated from the manor taking Epine with him; they had more attacks to plan. Maybe it was time to give his servant a real test.

Who said he couldn't kick this country while it was down?

-:-Rape happens in this next section-:-

Draco shoved Weasley into his bedchamber and slammed the door behind him and silenced it, he doubted the Dark Lord would be pleased if he disturbed his silence with her screams.

He stopped to take his breath and watch the admittedly beautiful young girl. She was barely a year younger than him so he didn't really feel like a cradle snatcher and she was decently developed for a teenager, better than Pansy had been at any rate. Grinning he slugged back the potion his Godfather had prepared for him, no sense in wasting it, and started yanking at his belt.

-:-

Ginny was eyeing the blonde ponce with a gimlet eye, she knew what was coming, she wasn't unaware of what the mechanics of sex were. She'd planned to do something similar to Harry after all. Well, he'd have wanted it at any rate.

Her hands were tied behind her back and she had no idea where a wand was, Draco hadn't been allowed one since coming back to the manor as far as she knew so there wouldn't be one she could steal. She'd fight him though, that was for sure.

He advanced on her rapidly and she spat at him with the little moisture she still had in her body but he dodged it with barely a visible effort. Then stars erupted across her vision as he backhanded her into the wall. Growling she turned back to him only to yelp in shock as he smacked her again, this time harder, and on her breast.

She tried to squirm away from him but he continued to beat her with a harsh look in his eye she had never seen before. Was this what happened to that Delacour bitch before Harry had saved her? Where was Harry when she needed him now?

She refused to cry out or let tears run down her face as he beat her. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. But it hurt so damn much.

He wasn't discerning where he hit her, sometimes it was her breast, sometimes her cheek, sometimes he spread her legs with his booted feet and slapped her cunny until it was raw. He never seemed to tire or get bored of his sport, she guessed it had something to do with that potion he had chugged back because before long bruises had started to form all over her body and he still wasn't slowing down.

She had no concept of time; it could have been minutes, hours, even days that he beat her. At some point he took his belt out and folded it in half before whipping her flesh. That really hurt.

She fell into a haze of pain and denial, she wouldn't let him take satisfaction from hearing her cry, or scream. But eventually it didn't matter. Her muscles gave out eventually and she slumped backwards against the bed which he promptly hauled her up onto before he spat on her arse several times.

She didn't have the strength to resist anymore as he manhandled her onto her stomach and forced her head down onto the bed where she felt a crick in her neck start immediately. She did manage to twist her head to the side so she could breath, though she didn't know why she bothered, dying might be a good way to give him the middle finger, take his fun away.

He pressed his cock against her arse and shoved hard getting past her ring of muscle easily before she could even react. It burned horrendously and for the first time during the ordeal she sobbed into the mattress as he buggered her. He wasn't gentle about it either, just a crude thrusting action that felt like it was going to destroy her innards. Something wet and slippery poured over her arse after a moment and for the first time he spoke.

"Got to make sure you don't bleed out don't I you stupid bitch, he wouldn't be happy if you did."

She realized it was a healing potion that he was coating his cock with, the irony was lost on her somehow as she grit her teeth and suffered in the best silence she could muster.

After while he seemed to get bored of buggering her and instead shoved his cock unceremoniously into her cunny, she didn't have her hymen anymore, quidditch had dealt with that, and she really hated that, if there had been more pain she could have kept resisting him but honestly at that point, and in comparison to what he had done to her bum, it just felt good, and she hated that.

She felt like her body was betraying her as, against her will; she started to enjoy what this foul inbred prick of a boy was doing to her. And when he finally spilled inside her she was actually disappointed that he stopped. And nearly sobbed with a mixture of betrayal and lust when he said they weren't done.

-:-Rape ends here, thank god.-:-

They had moved Daphne to her old room in the manor after a few hours with carefully applied stasis charms to make sure she wouldn't be jostled. Her condition hadn't improved and Hermione was more worried about Harry by this point; Ron's death, Fleur's death, and now maybe Daphne. She wasn't sure how much more loss Harry could take before he snapped. She more than anyone understood how much of the burden of guilt Harry took upon himself in situations like this, especially now that it was one of his subordinates, someone he had promised to bring safely out of this war. Someone who loved him that he couldn't honestly return the feelings for.

It was such an emotional cluster-fuck that she really had no idea how to help him. The only things she could be thankful for at this moment was that firstly; there weren't more people in critical condition for Harry to agonize over, and secondly that it wasn't Hermione herself who was on that bed, halfway between life and death.

She wasn't happy for her own sake, although it was certainly a good thing that she was well, more she was thankful because she honestly believed that if Harry lost her he would go mad.

All they could do now was wait, wait and pray.

-:-

"Is this going to work?"

"We have no idea"

"We have no idea"

"Right, nothing for it then: Translocation test one begin!"

Before Dan and the Weasley twin's eyes the Centurion battle tank simply disappeared. Turning to their left with crossed fingers they stood stock still.

"It worked" three voices in spoke in unison.

There squatting in front of them was Tyranny looking, if possible, quite smug.

Dan shook himself, his idea to use the tank as an excuse for the damage done to the town was a sketchy one at best. But with the elves' ability to repair the damaged buildings they could pass this whole thing off as a movie shoot.

"Right, get that thing into the village where the Regiment fought this morning and have the elves make the damage look tank worthy. We can salvage this yet."

One problem solved, and maybe an answer to any more of those sodding liches. He'd be interested to see how one handled a tank.

-:-

Dumbledore sat in his office; he'd just received word from Potter Manor that one of the Regimentals was in critical condition. Another blow on his mind, he'd driven them away, forced them to keep fighting this war without backup. This blood was on his hands. He sent a message away to the non-combatant Regimentals who were still in the castle, the ones who didn't flee Hogwarts when Harry left with the elite. One of their friends was in peril, and there was nothing they could do, but he would at least let them know, so that it wouldn't be a surprise if she was never around again.

-:-

The order of the Phoenix was scrambling for answers and better intel. They hadn't been expecting so many of the Russians to be in the little welsh town where the battle had taken place. Moreover it took a certain level of fanaticism to participate in a lich ritual, fanaticism that no one expected the mercenaries to have. Either Valmortis was modifying the mental state of his hirelings or there was still a dedicated core of supporters perhaps not to Voldemort, but to the student of Grindlewald.

Sirius was personally pissed off at this point, Harry had been injured, one of his friends was on her deathbed, and the informant who had passed on the information had disappeared off the face of the planet. Moreover Remus hadn't checked in for months, Tonks was on the Auror rapid response team that cleaned up after the Regiment and Mad Eye was off doing his own private spying into the movements of Valmortis. He hadn't been able to send them Intel any quicker than the other informant though. And that worried him, because either Mad Eye was a traitor, or the other informant was a traitor, that was the only way the other informant… 'Black' would have been able to get Intel faster than Alastor.

He really hoped the other informant was the traitor.

-:-

Umbridge, Morgana, whatever she called herself, was just a woman, a witch with a very long lifespan. But she wasn't a god, she couldn't force Daphne to be better, if she could, she would without hesitation. Less because she cared for the girl personally, and more because she had no idea what effect this would have on Harry and Hermione. Thinking of one alone was daft, they were a pair, inextricably linked by magic and love, down to their very souls, and the core of their personalities, they really were two faces of the same coin, or perhaps two coins, sharing the same face on both sides.

If Harry went mad from grief or guilt, so to would Hermione and vice versa; from what she heard Hermione was the one who had been saved by the girl's actions maybe the guilt would fall on both of them? Either way if Daphne Greengrass passed on grim times were ahead for all Britain. Never before had the fates of so many, rested on the shoulders of one broken girl.

-:-

Susan couldn't help but look at her bedridden friend and hold back tears. Daphne was always so strong, so cheerful, if reserved and slightly austere. She had come out of her shell a lot this year and Susan had gotten to know one of the most incredible young women she'd ever had the fortune to meet. Daphne by far had the deepest feelings for Harry, deeper even than any save Hermione herself Susan suspected.

And yet the Slytherin was more than happy to simply love Harry by supporting him as a Regimental. By being a part of his war effort, by being the person he could rely on to execute targets of opportunity in a battle. That was who Daphne was, a completely selfless lover who had learned to care for the man she loved from the shadows of friendship and war.

It never ceased to amaze Susan how steadfast Daphne was in her devotion, not only to Harry but to his ideals: When he needed her to do something, to learn something, to accomplish something, to kill someone. She didn't do it simply because Harry asked her to, but because of why Harry had asked her to. She had firmly believed that Harry had the right of it, in almost anything she could ever imagine. And the chance to help Harry achieve his goals, to protect Britain, wasn't just a duty, it was a privilege Daphne relished and respected.

Susan could claim no such nobility to her actions, she just loved the man and while she was in the Regiment, for the Regiment, she was more than happy to be one of Harry's Angels. She just hoped they would still be three, rather than two, when this was all over.

-:-

Tracey's mind was along the same lines as Susan's, except she had a slight insight to Daphne that Susan would probably never have. She had seen Daphne grow up in Slytherin surrounded by people who hated the boy she had a crush on. Battered from all sides by doubts and haters she had been Harry's guardian angel in ways he would probably never know: jinxing students who tried to ambush Harry, defending him even at peril to herself in the common room, removing curses from his person left there by malicious individuals, distracting Malfoy in class to the point of detention.

It had been Tracey's idea to name their squad Harry's Angels, but really it was a tribute of respect to Daphne. Tracey had never been that strong; while she too harboured a crush for the boy who lived, that eventually turned into a deep love for Harry Potter. She had never been able to defend him like Daphne had, had never had the magical, mental or emotional strength to set herself apart from her house to protect a boy who didn't even know her name.

So she had come to respect Daphne's integrity and drive, her passion and her love for the man they had all come to care about deeply. If Daphne didn't come through this… She promised, silently, that she would take up that torch.

-:-

It took four more hours for Daphne to wake; when she did Harry was the first thing she saw, though Hermione and the rest of Harry's Angels were not too far away. She felt horrendously weak, like she had been tossed around by a couple of giants and had to go to a party afterwards. She grimaced when she remembered the exact reason why she was in such a state.

Harry's hand tightened on hers almost imperceptibly and she smiled wanly at him before coughing and then groaning at the pain the coughing caused.

"Thank you Harry, for being here."

The words were barely a whisper. She could feel her strength failing even now; at least her magic let her see him again before she went on. He seemed to know exactly what the unsaid part of her gratitude was, that she probably wouldn't be around much longer to see him again. It was a strange feeling of happiness inside her when she saw a tear well up in his eye.

"How could I not be here Daph? You're my…"

She cut him off before he could finish

"Don't… Don't say that. Not now, let me pretend, please?"

He bowed his head and she could feel the vibrations running through him where he was trying to hold back his sobs.

"I love you Harry, kiss me? Please?"

He turned and looked to Hermione, of course he did, he was hers. He had no idea what passed between them in those moments but she slipped off his lap and suddenly he was there, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, they parted after a moment and she lamented barely even being able to remember the feeling amongst her pain.

"Thank you."

-:-

Harry growled in frustration as her hand went limp in his

"No, damn it Daphne, no."

He poured power into her, willing her to live, to be better, to remember the one kiss he'd ever give her. He felt Hermione's hand on his arm, lending him her strength; it hadn't been hard for her to grant her friend her wish. She knew Harry was hers, if it eased Daphne's passing she could give her that gift.

He grunted in effort and his magic flared in his eyes as he poured it into his friend, mending her body and willing it to mend her mind.

"Come back to us you stubborn bloody snake. You are not giving up on me! COME ON!"

He roared in frustration and rage and pushed harder. There were gasps around the room and he was dimly aware of his magic drawing power from those around him. Begging his friend to come back, willing her to come back.

But there was nothing.

He began to sob, tears of anger and emotional distress running down his cheeks as he gave his all for this friend, this member of his family. Suddenly there was more power in the room, Parvati's arm rested on his and suddenly the twins were helping then more came, Regimentals from the hall outside where they had been camped in vigil were linking, shoving their power down the chain to where Harry was, to Daphne, to their friend.

Susan's lips pressed against his cheek and her power joined his, then Tracey's.

He stayed there for who knows how long, pouring magic into the body of his friend, begging her, pleading with her, trying to bribe her back to them.

He felt the magic around him begin to wane, Regimentals pulled away from the chain in fear that he would drain them dry. Soon it was just him and Hermione pushing power into their friend. But they too had to stop eventually, though Hermione had to physically drag him away while he hollered at her to let him go.

It wasn't enough

She was gone.

-:-

AN3: Two chapters? In two days? What is the world coming to? Admittedly this one is much shorter, but I'll make up for that in the next one, promise. The length of this one just felt… right.

AN4: Also HOLY BALLS DAPHNE'S DEAD whaaaaaaat. Yeah… That sucked to write, like a lot. I actually cried. What sucked to write more was that rape scene, that was not fun. As someone who has been raped, I know that the worst moment is when your body betrays you and you start to enjoy the physical side of it even though your mind is rebelling. It's horrible.

AN5: Review Responses:

God of All: Thank you for your review!

Jkarr: Thank you!

Bearmauls: Ahh yes, the tank… how that happened will be explained next chapter.

Vegasman: Yes, yes they are…

Not too many reviews to reply to this time, I guess that's what happens when you upload two chapters within 24 hours of each other. Tune in Next time for Chapter Eighteen: Mourning; whereupon the memorial service for Daphne happens, we get a few answers, and the storm brews. As always thanks for Reading and other Shenanigans. See you next time!

LGreymark