Army of Darkness

Harry ended up serving his detention with Snape at 8 o'clock in the morning. His punishment was to copy over, alphabetize, and organize at least fifty boxes of index cards with various kinds of detentions from past Hogwarts students, including his father and Sirius, Pettigrew, and well as write a three foot essay about the benefits of controlling one's temper and knowing a spell inside out before casting it. Harry stared in dismay at the endless rows of boxes before him. "All this!" he exclaimed. "But sir, this'll take forever!"

"Then I suggest you get started, Potter," Snape said, and this time his familiar sneer was back in place. "Whatever you don't finish you can complete tomorrow morning. And all of next week as well."

"I've got detention the whole weekend? And next week?" Harry groaned. He opened his mouth to protest, then slowly closed it when the professor eyed him witheringly.

"You nearly killed a student, young man!" Snape growled. "You're lucky I don't have you in detention for a month, at least. Now quit whining and get started."

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered, hating the fact that Snape was right, but knowing that the punishment was deserved. He picked up his quill and began to write.

Severus retreated to his desk to finish marking homework essays, setting a timer on his desk for three hours. Madam Pomfrey had said Malfoy would probably be released from the infirmary tonight, and thereafter Severus would keep a close watch on the young troublemaker. Malfoy's sneering assessment of him to Harry still rankled. A useless old cripple, am I? We'll see about that, you spoiled shiftless brat! Severus thought angrily. Lame leg or no, I can still whip you into shape, Malfoy. Draco's betrayal hurt him, though he knew he should have expected no less from Lucius' son. He'd been weaned on betrayal, groomed to be a dark wizard from the moment he could talk. Once, he thought he might be able to save the boy from the dark path, but now . . . he doubted if his influence would be enough, or whether it was even worth it to try anymore. He recalled the incident with Marietta, his four-year-old niece, just before Christmas, when Draco had hexed her beloved stuffed dog using a forbidden voodoo spell for the sheer wickedness of it. And the boy had not been sorry at all for his tormenting a little girl, only sorry he'd been caught. No, he had serious doubts about Draco, especially after this latest incident with Harry. Severus still didn't know what had tipped Voldemort off about Snape's true loyalties, and Harry's suspicions about Draco might be right on target.

Only time would tell, the professor mused, scowling down at a student's essay.

* * * * * *
A week passed, and things appeared to have returned to normal at Hogwarts, at least as far as Arista and the other SR's were concerned. Draco, however, found himself ducking detention at every turn, for Snape still had not forgiven him for his snide comments, and was watching the Slytherin boy like a hawk. Draco complained loudly and often about Snape's unfairness, but the only ones who listened to him were Crabbe and Goyle. Marsh and Hathaway sympathized with him a bit, but they were too wary of earning Snape's wrath to be seen too often in Malfoy's camp.

Then, at the end of the first week of November, Harry, Ron, and Hermione suddenly left the school without warning. One day they were there and the next they were gone and no one seemed to know why. A day later, Dumbledore announced he would be leaving for an unspecified period of time on Ministry business, and appointed Minerva as Acting Deputy Headmistress until he returned, with Severus as her second in command. They had, of course gone away to find the remaining Horcruxes, though this last was known only to Severus and Minerva.

"Weird," Arista remarked to Mel soon after they had heard the news. "The three of them disappearing like that and then Dumbledore leaving too."

"Maybe they had some kind of family emergency or something," the ghostwalker speculated.

"All three of them?" Arista shook her head. "Maybe Ron and Hermione, yes, but not Harry. He's got no one except his aunt and uncle, and I know he doesn't get along with them. It's too much of a coincidence, all of them gone at once. Something's up."

Mel nodded. "Well, whatever it is, it doesn't concern us. Although, something else odd happened just before Dumbledore left. He came to me and asked me to speak to the Gray Lady for him."

"The Ravenclaw ghost?"

"Uh huh. She had some information he needed, and he wanted me to call her so he could speak to her. So I did, and they talked for quite awhile, then he said thank you and went away."

"Did you ask the Lady what they talked about?"

"Of course not! That was private, and I don't go round prying into other people's business," Mel said.

"You aren't the tiniest bit curious about what Dumbledore wanted?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted, "But not enough to command the Lady to tell me what he wanted."

Arista made a face at her. "You're no fun, Seton."

"Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should, Snape," Mel scolded mockingly.

"Now you sound like my grandmother," Arista sighed.

"I feel the same way about compelling ghosts as you do about using your empathy on people," Mel said. "I don't like having that kind of power over something or someone. It feels wrong."

"I know," Arista said, understanding perfectly what Mel meant. She'd felt much the same after the incident with Wrackspur. "You just have to be careful how you use it."

"Right," Mel said. Since her ghostwalker abilities had manifested, the castle ghosts were suddenly a whole lot more interested in her and remained polite and respectful to her. Even Peeves the poltergeist showed a remarkable tendency to behave around her, apparently he knew just what a ghostwalker was capable of. Mindful of her new status, Mel was careful not to abuse it, for she had a feeling she would need the goodwill of the ghosts before long, if the rumors in the papers were true.

Almost every day, the Daily Prophet ran an article about how Death Eaters and followers of Voldemort had been sighted, spreading fear and terror throughout the populace. Who's Next? had been the banner headline on the front page two days ago. Other rumors had started too, of dementors being brought under the control of Voldemort and there had been a mass breakout of several notorious criminals from Azkaban, including Dirk Wrackspur.

People had reported sightings of a Grim wandering about, and shadowy fiends flitting across the moon and hearing the howling of several banshees, which portended death. Trelawney was in her glory, predicting doom and devastation at almost every class session. Arista was waiting for her to predict the death of someone besides Harry Potter.

The other teachers were doing their best to try and act as if everything were normal, but the students knew something terrible loomed in the wind, and the atmosphere was tense and fearful. The only teacher who didn't try to sugarcoat anything was Severus, who said frankly that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was going to send an army forth very soon, and in case the worst happened, they must be prepared to meet it.

Thus he increased their dueling sessions, and taught them even more strenuously shielding and defense charms, as well as some offensive spells that would enable them to hold their own if they had to fight a Death Eater or two. "Do the unexpected, that'll throw off your enemy, and once he's caught off balance, then you strike and hit him hard. Don't hesitate, because this is one time mercy will be useless, you're fighting for your lives now."

"Sir, you want us to kill someone?" protested Hannah Abbot.

Snape nodded. "Yes, Miss Abbot, that is exactly what you have to do. They'll be trying to kill you, and therefore you have to be prepared to kill them first. I know this is a hard concept for you to grasp, but you have to fight or else you'll die. The Death Eaters have no compunction about killing children, believe me."

He knew that the Ministry and most likely Minerva would not approve of his new curriculum, but he found he did not care in the slightest. He was beyond following Ministry-approved methods like sheep. What he had foreseen so many years before as a new professor at Hogwarts had come to pass, and now the only hope this new generation had was to be able to survive long enough for Harry and the others to find the Horcruxes and destroy them. It was Severus's job to make sure that hope was not in vain.

So he made all of his students study more about blocking curses and practicing Ricochet and Mirror Defense and Whirlwind Deflection and Shadow Feint until they were ready to collapse. He returned to his drill sergeant methods and more than one of the girls left his dueling sessions in tears. None of them were his daughters, or their friends, however.

"Please, Professor Snape, I can't cast anymore," pleaded Hannah Abbot after one particularly grueling session. She was sitting on the ground, having been knocked on the floor by her dueling partner, Ginny Weasley, her wand held limply in one hand.

"On your feet, Abbot!" Severus barked, giving her one of his famous glares. "You've still got your wand, now use it!"

"Please, sir, I'm too tired . . .!"

"Up, young lady, and quit sniveling, you sound like a crybaby two-year-old," he yelled. "Are you going to cry to a Death Eater that you're tired and need to rest for a bit?" he sneered, coming over to stand next to them. "He'll spit in your face and kill you quick as that!" He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "Now get up, before I take fifteen points from Hufflepuff, Abbot!"

Groaning, the girl climbed to her feet, and resumed her rather shaky dueling stance.

Severus eyed her sternly, then moved on to inspect another pair.

After class, Trish was behind Hannah and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who'd also been the recipient of a tongue-lashing from the Defense Master for being too slow in countering a hex, and heard them muttering about how nasty and unfair Severus was being.

"I think he's even worse now than when he was Potions Master," Hannah was saying. "I mean, I was nearly dropping dead of exhaustion and he comes over and screams at me like I was a house elf, the nasty bugger!"

"He's gotten nastier recently, that's for sure," agreed Justin. "I mean we're not in the bloody army, for crying out loud."

Trish listened to their whining complaints with mounting aggravation, until suddenly she couldn't stand it anymore. "You still don't get it, do you, idiots?" she exploded, pushing past them to glare at them in disgust. "He's doing what he has to in order to keep you alive, haven't you been paying any attention for Godsakes? If he's not tough on you now, you're gonna die when Voldemort's army comes here. Better him now than a Death Eater later, I say."

Hannah and Justin stared at her, their eyes wide, for Trish never lost her temper or shouted, the way she had been doing.

Then Hannah declared angrily, "Since when do you defend Snape, of all people, Trish?"

"Since he saved my life, and not to mention, all our lives, by spying on You-Know-Who," Trish answered. "He nearly died and all you do is complain about how unfair he's being, you selfish cow!"

"Look who's talking, Greenbough!" Justin laughed. "That's the pot calling the kettle black, all right!"

Trish whirled on him. "Shut your mouth, you dumb twit!"

"And if I don't? You gonna run and tell on me?" he taunted.

"Don't need to when I can do this!" she snapped, then she hauled off and punched him in the mouth.

He was so shocked he fell over and Hannah gasped and cried, "Greenbough, you're nuts!"

"No, Abbot, what I am is sick and tired of people like you!" Trish growled, and gave the girl a look that could have stopped a charging rhino.

Hannah, no fool, quickly backed off, and Justin scrambled to his feet and ran off, much to the amusement of several Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watching.

"That's telling them, Trish!" Kit said, and clapped her on the shoulder.

Trish blushed bright red and whispered, "I can't believe I just did that."

"Neither could Justin, the twit," snickered Neville.

"Is there a problem here?" Severus asked silkily, coming up behind them so quietly that they all jumped.

"No, sir," Trish said quickly, praying he hadn't seen her punch Justin.

"Trish was just recapping your lesson for Abbot," Kit put in hastily. Then he grabbed Trish's arm and said, "Gotta run, Professor, or else we'll be late for Divination." He quickly dragged Trish down the hallway and the other students swiftly followed his example.

Severus raised an eyebrow at their hasty departure, then shrugged and went back inside his classroom.

* * * * * *

Another week went by, and more bad news came pouring in. There had been sightings of ghouls and revenants along the Highland roads, kelpies in Loch Ness, and a dragon had been spotted over York, a Welsh green. An old woman had reported finding a giant footprint in her vegetable patch near Surrey. The Ministry was trying to keep everything under wraps, so as not to panic the populace, but Scrimgeour couldn't deny everything, and his Aurors were kept busy day and night tracking down rumors and raiding suspected dark wizard's homes.

Concerned parents, once they discovered that Dumbledore was no longer at Hogwarts, pulled several students from the school, figuring they were safer at home. Their apparent distrust wounded Minerva, who confided to Severus in private, "It's absolutely absurd, the way they're behaving, Severus. I'm perfectly capable of running this school while Albus is away and the children are as safe here as anywhere."

"I know, Minerva, but they're scared, and they think that by keeping their children nearby, they can keep them safe. I don't think you should take it personally. You can't please everyone."

"I suppose not, but I wish some of those parents would stop acting like brainless chickens and start using the brains God gave them," the Headmistress said irritably.

"I think you're asking for a miracle," Severus said with a wry chuckle.

Minerva laughed softly. "This once, Severus, I fear you're right. Oh, well, we shall simply have to make the best of it. How are the school defenses holding up?"

"Very well, since I've strengthened them three times their normal levels. I've got Poppy growing some more Gigantor Venus flytraps and some Devil's Snare and Creeping Doom about the grounds near the walls and the entrance."

"Good! That'll give some dark witch or two a nasty surprise when they come tromping around here. And I trust you've warded all the fireplaces with scramble powder as well to prevent unauthorized entry?"

"Of course, and I've sealed all the secret exits I could find into and out of the school. It might be wise to allow Hagrid to loose some of his, um, shall we say, more carnivorous pets, like Fluffy, if Voldemort's army comes any closer."

"A good idea, Severus. I'll give Hagrid permission if and when that becomes necessary. Albus already spoke to the centaurs and they've agreed to close the borders of the Forest to anyone bearing a Dark Mark or smelling of dark magic." She coughed pointedly, eyeing Severus's left arm. "Oh dear, I quite forgot that you, uh . . ."

"Once bore the Mark myself," Snape finished. He rolled up his sleeve, displaying his left arm. The skin was shiny and unmarked by the brand of the skull and the serpent.

"But how . . .?"

"It happened when Arista healed me. When she reconstructed my arm, she erased the Dark Mark from my skin somehow. Now the only scars I bear are in here," he tapped his head with the white lock of hair. "And they're fading more and more everyday."

"I'm glad, Severus," Minerva said feelingly. "So the Forest is on alert, and if need be, they'll come to our aid."

"The only concern I have is an attack from the air, but we can't prevent everything," Severus sighed. "It's too bad Fireflash or some of the other bronze dragons weren't here, then they could patrol the skies easily." He grimaced slightly and rubbed his left leg surreptitiously. "The sins of our ancestors have come back to haunt us, I'm afraid. What the Dragonslayer Guild sowed centuries ago now we reap."

"Too true, my friend. Ah well, while I wouldn't mind a bronze dragon or two, we'll manage without them. At least we still have you to plan strategy and such, Severus."

Snape shrugged, embarrassed. "I'll do my best, Minerva, but I'm no Alexander or Achilles."

"Keep the students safe, Severus, that's all I ask."

"I shall endeavor to do so," Severus promised. "Would you like a cup of my stress tea, I find it works wonders on tension headaches."

"Yes, thank you, I'd love some," the Headmistress smiled, and the Potions Master summoned up his teakettle and set some tea brewing immediately.

********
Then it happened, the thing they all feared. Scrimgeour was betrayed from within the Ministry by one of his own, the sweet but poisonous Dolores Umbridge, who had been promised a position of power and authority in the new regime if she turned traitor and let the Death Eaters into the Minister of Magic's private study. Umbridge had always disliked Scrimgeour, for he championed half-bloods and werewolves and the like, and he was not a pushover like Fudge. So she felt no qualms in handing him over to his enemies.

Scrimgeour fought, but he was overwhelmed in the end, though he took a number of them with him before he died. But the damage had been done. The Minister of Magic was slain and Voldemort's followers had gained control of the government.

That was the signal the Dark Lord had been waiting for. He summoned up the last of his evil allies, a legion of vampires from Transylvania and the company of giants he'd held in reserve at his secret base in Albania in the Carpathian Mountains. These, together with his necromancers and dementors and night haunts, trolls, and imps formed the majority of his army.

It was a gathering of evil creatures such as had not been seen since the elder days, during the time of Arthur and Merlin. Banshees and night hags flew in his train, as well as wyverns and fell hounds. Hell itself had answered Voldemort's summons and now he turned them loose to wreak havoc on the innocents, Muggle and wizard alike.

The Aurors tried to mount a defense, but they'd been caught off guard, and were woefully undermanned. All they could do was perform strike and run tactics, and chip away at the army of darkness a tiny bit at a time.

The dark horde advanced across Britain like an unstoppable tide, and people fled in fear as the shadow of the Dark One rose to cover the land once more.

And somewhere in the wilderness, a small band of wizards sought desperately for the means to end the threat for good and all.

Back at Hogwarts, Severus, Minerva, and the rest of the staff prepared for an assault. For there was no doubt that the army of darkness was approaching, Voldemort had turned his eye to conquering the school, the last bastion of the Light against the dark shadow.

The unthinkable had come to pass, and war had come to Hogwarts. Only time would tell if the school would survive, as the Dark Lord threw the might of his army against the magical defenses of the Founders and the determination and brains of Severus Snape, Master of Defense and former secret agent.

And so it begins . . .the last battle for Hogwarts!