Madame Pomfrey's hands and robes were now so stained with blood that the original colour was totally invisible, but still she worked because taking the time to scourgify herself would mean another life lost. The Ravenclaw on the floor in front of her was barely seventeen, far too young to be bleeding to death on the cold stone. The deep cut in his stomach wouldn't heal with her normal spells and so once again she was singing the chant to heal a sectumsempra injury while mentally she cursed Severus Snape once more. He'd taught the spell to enough Death Eaters that half the casualties she worked on had been hit by it. The thought that this was only because other spells killed too fast for her to help was ruthlessly repressed as she finally teased the flesh together. The indent in the boy's flesh would a permanent reminder of today, but at least he'd live. She signalled to one of the shellshocked students who'd been helping her to deal with the more minor injuries and strode over to the next patient, a girl biting her lip to keep from screaming at the acidic burn steadily eating into her thigh. Even as she set to work, Madam Pomfrey knew she couldn't save the leg.
The battle had been over for at least an hour now, and yet more injured were still coming in, stumbling in under their own power or being brought in by the parties searching for bodies. More and more of these had their faces covered in cloth and were simply placed to the side of the room. In a macabre sort of way, this was good; if the rescue parties were bringing in the dead, that meant there were no more injured to deal with. Still, she could not stop working yet.
"You all need to go, they're coming!" Another of the walking wounded had staggered in, his eyes wild and grabbed the nearest person.
"It's alright love, it's over. We've won. Calm down." The girl put a comforting hand on her fellow student's soldier. "Let's sit you down, OK? You're going to be fine."
"You don't understand, there's more of them coming, they're..."
"It'll be fine love, you're panicking, just sit down and let me have a look at you."
"I can't sit, it's..." There was a great thump on one of the walls, shaking yet more dust from the ceiling. "Too late..."
The wall exploded in a cloud of dust and flying splinters and with a scream of "EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND!" a half-dozen red-robed wizards stormed through, cursing everything in sight. Madam Pomfrey was knocked off her feet and her wand sailed from her hand as the new enemies rushed forward, hardly caring as they trampled the injured. One of her helpers fumbled for his wand and without breaking stride a wizard stunned him to fall on top of his patient. The leading wizard blasted the doors on the other side of the room off their hinges and as quickly as they arrived, they were gone. Madam Pomfrey reached for her wand but even as her hand touched it another spell shot it away.
"DROP YOUR WANDS AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS," boomed a magically-amplified voice. Figures in auror robes were striding through the hole, their wands levelled. "YOU ARE ALL NOW PRISONERS OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC."
"Hands on your FUCKING heads!" shouted one of them at a group of confused helpers. "Petrificus Totalus!" The girl dropped like a log, and her friends swiftly complied. "Anyone who resists will be dealt with. STAY WHERE YOU ARE! STUPEFY!" Another girl dropped as she tried to back away. A pair of aurors pulled long rods from within their robes and ran them over Madam Pomfrey's shaking assistants. As it passed over one of them, the secrecy sensor beeped, and the auror holding it stunned him unceremoniously.
"What exactly do you think you are doing?" said Madam Pomfrey, with all the icy calm she could muster from her position on the floor.
"KEEP YOUR HANDS UP!"
"My hands are up, you idiot! What are you doing here," she squinted at the auror's face for a moment, "Winikus?"
"We're here to capture Potter." The auror looked rather unsettled that Madam Pomfrey knew her name. "As his followers, everyone in this room is to be treated as hostile. All of our actions have been entirely within ministry guidelines on necessary force, according to section 2(a) of the..."
"Well, Winikus, while I'm flattered you treat me as hostile, you spent enough time in the hospital wing to know I'm a mediwitch. That means my job is healing. I am not a threat to you, and for that matter neither are most of the people in here. They're either too non-violent, too injured or too dead to fight. And every minute you stop me treating them, more of them die. Now can you please let me return to doing my job?"
"I'm sorry madam, but we cannot permit any of you to use a wand. Ministry healers are on the way to treat injured and will be fully capable of..."
"And just how long till they get here? I'm not sure you understand Winikus, the people in here are dying. By refusing to let me help, you are killing them. What do the Ministry guidelines say about that?"
The woman looked uncomfortable and walked over to one of the other aurors for a brief, whispered conversation. After a while, they came to a consensus.
"Since you are of minimal threat, you will be permitted to continue treating your wounded so long as you hand over your wands and submit to a search for other magical items. Note that any violent actions or attempts to escape will still be treated extremely harshly. You have been warned."
"And exactly what good are we meant to do without wands?"
The aurors' commander shrugged. "More than you'd do otherwise."
Sergius Murray had one job and that was to maintain a shield.
Along with the young woman next to him, he was meant to protect the other four Doorbreakers in their half-section from the minor curses and jinxes hitting them from the front. "Protego" he muttered as he felt the shield in front of him weaken, still moving at a dead run with the others. His enchanted boots found the best route forward for themselves; one less thing to think about.
A huge block of stone sailed towards them and behind him he heard the undercommander's "Reducto" blast it to pieces. A few shards went through the shield but Sergius ignored them, trusting in his heavy robes to protect him. Making the shield proof to solid objects would be a waste of energy. A scintillating breaker hex crashed through the shield and Sergius felt the tripping jinx in his boots twist him to the side, away from it. He recast the shield even before he'd fully righted himself, barely slowed by what must have been their enemy's proudest weapon. Sergius saw a look of fear cross the man's face for a moment before one of the designated hex-casters lined up a spell and stunned him. Another Reducto took out the barrier their enemy had been hiding behind, and with another two curses the little nest of resistance was crushed. Sergius felt his boots press into soft flesh as he ran on. The aurors behind them would deal with the bodies before their spells wore off, and wasting time could cost them the mission.
"Target in two rooms. Prepare."
Sergius recast the shield charm as another door was blasted off its hinges and the room before them filled with fire. Their skin and robes burning, the occupants could get barely two spells off before they too were unconscious. The Doorbreaker's dragonskin boots trampled the flames as their commanders raised their wands for a combined Reducto and exploded the wall. Immediately, a gust of cold air hit them from a hole in the castle wall, where a dark-haired man in glasses was handing a broom to the last of the defenders.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" The young man's wand shot out of his hand, flying through the hole. "ON YOUR KNEES!"
The bruised, bloodstained young man turned to them, wearing a tired expression. "No." He raised his arms and, closing his eyes, fell backwards into the morning sunlight.
"Bloody hell," said Sergius as the group finally halted, "I suppose we got 'im, then."