The Delayed Feast
In the days leading up to the first of September Harry, Mark, Dobby and Winky moved Mark into the Gryffindor Second-year boy's dormitory. He still slept in Harry's trunk but most of his clothes and all of his school supplies were transferred to his dormitory. As they were eating dinner in the Great Hall on the thirty-first of August Harry wondered how hard it would be for Mark when regular classes started up again. After all, he would be at least two years ahead of most of his classmates in Defense Against the Dark Arts and with Hermione's encouragement he had already read through most of his second-year books. It would be interesting to watch and see how things developed.
That night Harry went down into the Chamber of secrets and, using the third jar of basilisk venom, destroyed the fourth horcrux. As he did so he felt a slight twinge in his scar, almost as if Tom had felt its destruction. When he remote viewed Tom's activities he found him asleep. Apparently Tom's relaxed state of mind had somehow opened the connection between the bit of his soul that resided within his body and his remaining horcruxes and he had felt it. Harry realized that he would have to be more careful with the last of the original five.
One other thing Harry had begun noticing was that Tom had been growing increasingly weaker, increasingly more dependent upon the energies he was drawing through the dark mark, with the destruction of each horcrux. He wondered if this was tied to destruction of Tom's horcruxes and, if it was, if Tom would make the connection and discover what he had been doing this summer.
With that thought came another: When Harry had first met Tom, at the end of his first year, he was little more than a parasite, living off of the life energies of others. And this, it seemed was what he was, again, becoming. As he made his way out of the Chamber of Secrets Harry could not help but hope and pray that all of the work that he and Ethrindell and Hogwarts were doing would be enough to destroy the parasite.
On September the first Harry and Mark did their usual run, using Hogwarts' Room of Requirement this time, and ate breakfast in the Great Hall with the teachers. At 8:30 Harry teleported Mark and himself – Mark with a small day-bag of coins and reading materials and himself with his Electra 5000 Battle Series broom – to Platform Nine-and-three-quarters. The plan was for the two of them prepare the caboose and designated medical compartments for any emergencies before the students began arriving. The prefects and Ron and Hermione, in their capacities as head boy and head girl, would be arriving at 10:00.
Ginny, Neville, Luna and a few others would be arriving at 10:00 as well but would not be entering the platform until 10:55. They would be patrolling King's Cross Station on the look out for any suspicious activity. One of the squibs on the London Police Force had been made aware of the situation and had gone out of her way to assign either squibs or parents of muggle-born witches and wizards to the station's security detail for the day. Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror Department, had personally briefed them on what was happening, and why, because, along with the students, a number of plainclothes aurors would be patrolling the station as well.
The new first-years would be met at the entrance to the station by the prefects and escorted through the barrier, a service Harry wished had been in place on his first day. While it was true that quite a number of this year's first-year students had been on the platform before, with their older siblings, the muggle-born students would be lost; and those who had lost older brothers or sisters to the fighting last year might be hesitant. No one was going to force them to attend Hogwarts if the death of a sibling was haunting them but, with their parents' help, the prefects would do everything in their power to convince them that they really would be safer at Hogwarts than at home where, if they were to be attacked, their parents could easily be distracted by their presence.
And then there were those students who had not stayed for the summer training. Some of them would be envious of those who had while others would be haunted by the events of last year. To help alleviate these fears, Ron, Hermione, all of the prefects and anyone else who had been interested had spent the last two weeks of evenings during boot camp taking a crash course in Counseling and Sensitivity Training.
Harry and Mark were in the process of stocking the medical kit in the last designated compartment when Ron stuck his head through the door. "How's it going?" he asked.
Harry looked up and smiled after closing the kit. "Just finished," he said. Looking over at Mark, who was finishing up his spell work, which consisted of layering several additional shatterproof charms that Albus had taught him onto the compartment's walls and windows. He frowned slightly. Mark's spell work was impeccable so there was no problem there but Harry regretted the fact that Mark was being pressed into service while he was still so young. Sighing softly to himself Harry briefly closed his eyes and thought back the conversation he and Albus had shared at the end of his fifth year. Now he understood why Albus had not told him about the prophecy when he had first asked, at the end of his first year: It was sad that this part of Mark's childhood was being stolen from him by a war that he had no part in causing. It was almost as if the real world was determined to force its way into the lives of children who should be enjoying themselves, not reinforcing the shatterproof charms on designated medical compartments in preparation for the trip from London to Hogsmeade.
When Mark had finished casting the last spell his shoulders sagged slightly. Taking a deep breath he blew it out and looked out the window. "You alright, Mark?" Harry asked.
Mark nodded and turned around. The past ninety minutes had taken a toll on his second cousin and Harry could not help but worry. "Yeah," Mark said. "I'll be fine. I just need to rest for a bit."
Ron, being in a better position to help, quickly stepped forward and grabbed Mark under the arms as his knees gave way. "Easy there, Mark!" he said as he scooped the younger boy up into his arms. "Your in the caboose, right?" When Mark nodded Ron said, "Then you just relax. We've got a few minutes before the rest of the students start arriving so you just rest." With another nod Mark closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Harry followed Ron to the caboose, opening the doors for him along the way, and watched as Ron gently lay the sleeping boy out on one of the bunks, fluffed his pillow and covered him with a light blanket. After Harry and Ron had exited out through the caboose's rear entrance and were walking up the platform, alongside the train, Harry said, "Thanks."
Ron shrugged. "No problem, mate."
Harry said, "No, I really mean it, Ron. Thank you."
When Ron stopped and turned towards Harry with a curious expression on his face Harry told him about Mark's fears at the wedding and the discussion he had had with Mark while Ron was in the shower. When Ron tried to object Harry told him that it was a sign of maturity that he, Ron, was able to forgive so easily. He ended by telling Ron that Mark would know that he had been forgiven when he woke up and realized that it was Ron who Carried him to the caboose and tucked him in.
Ron looked at Harry, a curious expression on his face for a few moments, then, as understanding dawned within his mind, smiled and said, "You're Welcome."
As Ron walked away, a bemused expression on his face, Harry turned back and returned to the caboose. He was fairly certain that it was just a case of magical burnout and that all Mark needed was a little rest but his mind wouldn't let him rule out the possibility that something more serious might have happened. After hemming and hawing for almost five minutes he sent a Messenger Patronus to Madam Pomfrey, outlining Marks activities for the past two hours and asking her opinion as to what should be done.
At precisely eleven o'clock, just as the train was beginning to pull out of the station, a silvery white dove landed on the handle of Harry's broom as he flew alongside the third carriage from the back and turned to look at him. "Your diagnosis is most likely the correct one," Madam Pomfrey's voice said. "Let him rest and he should be able to sleep it off. When he wakes up give him a small vial of Pepperup Potion and have him come to the hospital wing as soon as he arrives."
Harry relayed the message to Luna, who told him that Mark was still sleeping soundly.
Once they were out of London and the suburbs were a distant memory Harry flew up and took the High Observer post that would be his for the next few hours. Only then did he allow his thoughts to return to his cousin's welfare. To his knowledge, Mark had only been in the Hospital Wing a few times over the past twelve months and could not imagine him enjoying a visit so early in his second year. He was just glad Mark was a second-year student and wasn't taking Divination because he was sure Sybill Trelawney would call it a bad omen and make the next ten months of his life a fearful mix of superstition and uncertainty just as she had tried to make his three years in her class.
When they passed through Grantham Harry flew Close Escort about mid train and then rotated out of the High Observer position with Terry Boot. At Darlington Orville Burns took the High Observer position. Half an hour past Newcastle he reported three unknown flyers briefly dropping out of the cloud cover, periodically. They appeared to be pacing the train. When Harry heard this he broke into the charmed communications link and said, "Wingmen, report!"
Ginny was the first to report in with, "I've got your back, Harry"
"Neville?" Ron asked.
"I'm here for you, Ron," Neville replied.
When all nineteen members of the regular escort team had reported in Harry switched charms and said, "Hermione? Luna?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"I'm here, Harry; and Mark has just woken up."
Harry smiled at Luna's still occasionally dreamy tone, something he hoped would survive the war intact, then said, "Alright. Where are the rest of the flyers?"
"They are scattered throughout the train," Hermione said, a degree of nervousness creeping into her voice. "Why?"
"Do it discretely, Hermione, because we don't want anyone to panic but have them get their brooms and report to the caboose. Luna, if Mark feels up to it have him notify the healers and tell them to start getting ready."
"Will do," Mark said.
"Are you feeling okay?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," Mark said. "I might not be up for this fight but I can run supplies."
Harry smiled. "That's all I ask, Mark. That's all I ask."
It was a long wait. Occasionally they would spot the unknown flyers as they dropped below the cloud cover but nothing more. Then, thirty minutes north of Dundee, as they entered the Scottish Highlands, when Ginny was flying the High Observer position, at least fifty death eaters dropped below the cloud cover and began diving on the Hogwarts Express. Orville actually saw them first because they were coming in from behind and he happened to glance over his shoulder at the right time. "We have death eaters," he said as calmly as he could, given the fact that his wingman was still on the train.
As soon as Harry heard this he tapped into the train's communications charm and commanded, "All flyers in the air! NOW!"
As the caboose's rear entrance burst open, emitting a stream of twenty-one more flyers, all of the members of the escort squadron dropped their disillusionment charms and joined the battle. The death eaters hesitated a moment, as the number of defenders was revealed, then resumed their dives with even more ferocity.
As the air battle raged Harry was glad that all of last year's seventh-year quidditch players had chosen to donate their time to serve as escorts for the Hogwarts Express. They would have been lost without them. As a matter of fact, it had been Cho Chang who, while chasing a death eater who was firing on her wingman, had been the first to summon a broom out from under a death eater. The death eater, whom they would later discover had been Marcus Flint, had been so surprised that he had actually lost his grip on his wand, which had tumbled out of the air and gotten buried in a particularly viscous looking bush. Marcus, however, had continued in his trajectory and smashed into the side of the train's engine, his limp and broken body bouncing off of the engine's length to land in a crumpled heap alongside the tracks.
Moments later Cho screamed, "STOP THE TRAIN!!"
As Harry pulled out of his dive, mere centimeters from the tops of a nearby stand iof trees, he snapped, "What?!"
"AMBUSH!!" Cho screamed. "STOP THE TRAIN!!"
Harry glanced up as the sounds of an unfortunate death eater crashing into the trees behind him reached his ears. In a gorge a little more than a mile ahead he could see that the tracks had been blocked and that the air was swarming with death eaters. In his mind's eye it resembled a hornet's nest that had been swept into a frenzy by Dudley and his gang poking at it with sticks. "Hermione!" he barked, "Stop the train and send for help! I want the train defended but we need anyone who can fly and fight in the air immediately!"
Moments later the train's emergency brakes were engaged and the Hogwarts Express began slowing. Less than a second later Hermione's otter patronus was rocketing along the rails towards Hogwarts and Luna's dove was flying south, towards London, faster than any dove he had ever seen. The next thing he heard was Hermione's amplified voice barking orders up and down the length of the train. As the train slowed the doors flew open and one hundred more flyers joined the fray.
The train screeched to a halt half a mile from the entrance to the gorge, which gave the defenders a slight advantage in that they would be fighting out in the open as opposed to being boxed up in a narrow canyon. On the other hand, the death eaters held the advantage in numbers, a willingness to use the dark arts and the increased power that came from their use of the dark mark. Harry was not hopeful; but at the same time he knew that he had to give it everything he had. He didn't have time to even begin to consider what losing migh mean because a death eater was closing in on his wingman, Ginny, and another was rocketing up towards him from below.
Pushing his broom to the limit Harry flew up on Ginny's pursuer and, wrapping his left arm around the man's neck, twisted his broom around and away, snapping the man's neck in the process. Without taking the time to even think about the fact that he had just killed a man with his bare hands Harry spun around and flung the body down at his pursuer. The man seemed to be so stunned by what he had just witnessed that his reaction time was slowed enough for the body to hit its target. The death eater lost his grip on his broom and, together, he and the body of his wingman, one dead and one about to die, plunged earthward at terminal velocity.
It was a hollow victory though because at that moment the death eaters who had been waiting in ambush joined the fight. Fortunately, at the same moment, several hundred cracks and pops could be heard as aurors, hit wizards and former students arrived from London and teachers and shop keepers arrived from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. To say that Harry was thankful would have been an understatement but, unfortunately, he didn't even have time to smile because he was engaged in a particularly viscous firefight with a death eater who just sent a fourth-year Ravenclaw – Harry thought it might have been their reserve seeker – spiraling out of control towards an exposed cliff face.
The battle raged for hours, finally winding down as dusk approached darkness and the few remaining death eaters retreated into the hills with irate escorts close behind. The ground was littered with broken brooms and mangled bodies. Harry looked down as some of the younger students began to emerge from the train, escorted by the teachers who had arrived in response to Hermione's summons. Glancing over at Ginny, who was sporting a fresh scar on her left cheek, he asked, ""You alright, Gin?"
Ginny nodded but flinched as Harry brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "I guess I had better get that looked at, hadn't I."
Harry softly smiled then nodded his head in the failing light. "Yes, I think you should."
As they began their descent towards the now lighted train, they could see several points of light gliding slowly over the battlefield as healers, aurors and hit wizards searched for survivors. As tired as he was, Harry knew that it was his job to begin the check in process. Activating the communications charm they had used the previous Christmas Harry said, "This is Harry Potter. All flyers please check in."
Apparently recognizing the need for this formality Ginny said, "This is Ginny Weasley, present and accounted for."
Ron and Neville checked in moments later.
As the flyers continued to check in Harry was amazed at how many had survived. He didn't know how many were wounded but it sounded like most of the student flyers had pulled through.
As midnight approached a few of aurors flew into the gorge to remove the blockade. While removing the boulders and trees one of the aurors discovered that the rails at the far end of the gorge had been intentionally split. Further investigation revealed that several booby traps had been set that would activate as the front wheels of the engine passed over spikes that had been cursed to activate the traps. It was decided that, as uncomfortable as it would be, everyone would spend the night on the train so that the tracks could be checked and cleared of all curses and traps. There were many groans, of course, but, ultimately, even those who could have apparated to Hogsmeade and walked understood the reasoning and stayed to protect the younger students.
The Hogwarts house elves arrived around 1:00 AM with picnic baskets filled with food. It wasn't the usual Start of Term feast – that had been postponed a day to give the students time to arrive, settle in and calm down – but it was a sumptuous meal nonetheless. Several of the younger students were too frightened or nervous to eat and a few of the younger flyers became physically ill, throwing up what they had eaten, as full realization dawned upon them as to what had just happened and what they had done. It was not a pretty sight and it was not something any of them would soon forget.
After slowly drinking a goblet of pumpkin juice, Harry was simply too tired to eat, he collapsed on the bunk Mark had been sleeping on earlier. As his mind relaxed he wondered how he had missed the warning signs. Nothing he had seen in any of his sessions throughout the summer had even hinted at an attack on The Hogwarts Express. They had been flying escort as a precaution but he had honestly not expected anything to happen.
Rising out of his physical body as it slipped into slumber Harry went in search of one Tom Marvolo Riddle. Locking onto the energy signature he had been studying for the past several weeks he followed the scent south, to the ballroom in Riddle Manor on the hill to the north and east of Little Hangleton. Tom was, to put it mildly, incensed. Several companies of renegade fighters had taken it upon themselves to attack the Hogwarts Express to test their abilities and had suffered a devastating loss. After screaming at and torturing the survivors for several hours he had them unceremoniously thrown into prison cells and chained to the walls.
Harry withdrew from the scene and returned to his body as the first jolts signified that the tracks had been cleared and the Hogwarts Express once again on its way to Hogsmeade. Half an hour later they pulled into Hogsmeade station where they were met by Hagrid as well as professors McGonnagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Slughorn, Madam Pomfrey and several counselors from Saint Mungo's. The prefects and quidditch players, some of whom were sporting the sighs of recent injuries, escorted the first-years to the docks and flew alongside the boats as they crossed the lake. This was done more to reassure the first-years that they would be safe at Hogwarts than as any form of precaution but the possibility that something might happen still lingered in the air.
When Harry walked into the Great Hall for lunch Remus stood up from his position at the Head Table, walked around the end of the table and made his way down to where Harry was sitting with his friends. Taking the vacant seat next to Harry Remus cast a privacy charm and leaned heavily on the table, tiredly running his fingers through his graying hair.
Harry turned to look at him, a light of expectancy in his eyes. When he saw the expression on Remus' face, however, he knew what his friend had come to talk about. "How bad?" he asked softly.
Remus took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, which was displaying a bright blue cloud-free sky, and then let it out as he lowered his head and turned towards Harry. "Five dead, twelve in the hospital wing and seven more in Saint Mongo's."
Harry's entire body sagged in defeat. Taking his glasses off he laid them on the table and tiredly rubbed his eyes. "Why?" he whispered softly the looked over at Remus, a pleading look in his eyes.
Remus shook his head. "I honestly don't know, Harry," he said. "We all know he's a madman but what he represents seems to appeal to a certain segment of society."
Harry harrumphed, a twisted half smile half frown appearing on his face. Pinching the bridge of his nose, almost as if fighting down an oncoming headache, Harry changed the subject. "What are the rest of the numbers?"
Remus hung his head and chewed his lower lip for several seconds before answering. "They lost two hundred fifty: Two hundred dead and fifty critically injured. Civilians and volunteers lost three to death with fifteen injured."
Harry looked up, eyebrows raised, a curious expression on his face.
"From what I saw, Harry," Remus confided, "the death eaters were disorganized and fighting for personal glory. None of them had wingmen. If I were to hazard a guess I think I would have to say that our training made all the difference. I know you were in the thick of it so you weren't able to observe but to be honest with you, most of the late arrivals from London and Hogsmeade hung back and let you guys do most of the fighting." When Harry scowled Remus chuckled. "Do you know how good you guys are? Even though you were outnumbered two-to-one we had to hang back because if we had tried to join the fight all we would have done was get in the way. We essentially played mop up for you students."
Harry smiled wryly. "You know it's a sad day when your students are equated with your military."
Remus was silent for several seconds as he thought Harry's comment over then nodded sadly. "Yes, it is, Harry; but I'll tell you what: I'm glad you're on our side."
Harry thought this over then closed his eyes and nodded. "Me too.
That evening, even though they had been at Hogwarts for several hours and had been given relatively complete tours of the campus, the first-years were led into the Great Hall to be sorted. The sorting took longer than usual because, even though the counselors and a few of the older students had tried to allay their fears, many of them were so frightened and nervous that the hat had to wait for them to calm down and relax so that they could be sorted properly. After the last student had been sorted and was seated at the Ravenclaw table Albus stood up. He looked more ancient than Harry thought possible. In Harry's opinion he looked to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. When he had everyone's attention Albus said, "In all humility and from the bottom of my heart, ladies and gentlemen, I say thank you. You are all heroes and heroines. Without you and your efforts this meal would not have been possible. I will have a few more announcements after dinner but for now, please tuck in."
The conversations at the tables that evening were subdued and, even though the house elves had prepared their usual fare, large portions of food were going untouched. Even Ron, who was known for his voracious appetite, stopped after only a few bites. When Hermione had asked if he was feeling alright he had looked down at his plate, which was still three-quarters full, and sighed several times before responding, "I don't know, Hermione. I guess I'm just not hungry tonight."
Harry would have laughed at the thought of Ron turning down a chance for food but he understood the sentiment. It was a feeling that was share by many. It had been the same after their trip to Romania last year. The difference between then and now, however, was that then it had only been the eight of them. Now it was the entire student body.
After dinner and after pudding Albus stood once more. "To those of you who are new I say welcome. To those of you who have returned to continue your education I say welcome back. You all have my heartfelt condolences for what you have thus far endured. Please know, however, that you are, indeed, safer here than you would be anywhere else on Earth. On the other hand," he said in an offhanded sort of way that Harry was sure was meant to raise their spirits, "the Forbidden Forest is still off limits. Its inhabitants have agreed to protect the forest and, by extension, defend Hogwarts' flanks but that does not mean you have the right to invade their territory. The centaurs are very territorial in their traditions and none of us should set foot within their domain without having first gained their permission and I can tell you, from many long years of experience, that gaining this kind of permission is not an east task."
A few chuckles, mostly from the Gryffindor table, rang out across the hall.
Albus smiled over at Harry's close-knit circle of friends and nodded and Harry noticed that the twinkle was starting to return to the aged headmaster's eyes. "On a lighter note," Albus said, returning to his more relaxed posture, "Mister Filch has asked me to remind you that no magic is allowed in the corridors." Turning towards Remus he added, "That reminder goes for you as well, Professor Lupin."
Several students laughed at this as Remus blushed several shades of red.
"Mister Filch has assembled a list of seven hundred and forty-nine banned items, most of which can be found at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."
This brought several more chuckles and a few groans of "Awe heck!" from some of the first-years, which added to the laughter.
"And finally," Albus continued, once the laughter died down, "I would like to welcome back an old friend who has agreed to fill the recently vacated posts of Potions Master and head of Slytherin House. Could you all please welcome my old friend, Professor Horace Slughorn."
As the round little man sitting to Albus' immediate left stood several students, including Harry and most of those he had worked with over the summer, applauded politely. But then something seemed to take over and the polite applause gradually grew and morphed into a standing ovation. Slughorn looked dumbfounded. Albus looked pleasantly surprised. For Harry it was a demonstration of the magic of words when employed by a master. In a few short phrases Albus Dumbledore, using words and subtle humor, had transformed a sad, somewhat solemn occasion into a reason to celebrate. The students would heal and, when the time came, they would be ready to fight again. For now, however, it was time for school, relationships, fun, games and training.