Preparing for War

A/N: This is gonna be the last semi-quiet chapter, folks. After this, things are gonna get fugly. Next chapter may take a while to come out, but it's going to be long and action packed.

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March 1- April 14, 1996

The first day of March, Professor Sprout and all the best of her Herbology students (which included Neville, of course) headed out onto Hogwarts' grounds, a startling array of plants and supplies bobbing along behind them. They were intending to plant a protective ring around the part of Hogwarts' grounds that was not protected by the Forest, along with preparing a few other ... surprises ... for the anticipated invading army.

Hagrid disappeared into the forest, intent on having a word with Aragog and his children, as well as the thestrals, centaurs, and who-knew-what else. Remus left as well, though he didn't tell anyone what he was up to. Severus pulled the best of the Potions students still at the school into the dungeon to start working on potions.

The rest of them worked in and around the castle itself, building traps that could be sprung on the unwary, constructing 'blinds' hidden in corners where defenders could have a good line-of-sight to hex people and still be protected. Each blind was stocked (eventually) with a variety of potions, both from the Weasley's stock of inventions and Snape's, as well as the orbs that shot silver spikes all over the place (which had been improved upon to the point they were quite deadly). The traps and blinds were done both inside and out. Additionally, the outdoors was equipped with the color-spell balls scattered around in various places, though those weren't, of course, activated yet.

The Muggleborns recommended (and assisted in building) catapults up on the roof to help deal with flying menaces that were hard to hex, as well as caltrops as a possible delivery device for some of the potions ... scattered on the ground and stepped on, they'd punch through most flesh and boot leather (save dragon or basilisk hide) to deliver whatever they'd been coated with.

The house-elves helped wherever they could, and a few of the braver ones made hesitant suggestions, which almost always were implemented.

The first week of March also saw Hermione finally manage to complete the animagus transformation, scampering around with the rest of the gang. She seemed thoroughly delighted with it. Harry gave a mental sigh, but he was now not too far away from managing it himself, which, considering how hectic things had been for him, was a bit surprising.

Hagrid eventually returned from his extended stay in the forest, looking well pleased with himself.

"Aragog's got his kin organized." He reported at the meeting held on his return. "An' the Thestrals seem willin'. Firenze and Ronan and a coupla the other centaurs seemed willin' ta help as well."

Harry had to grin at that, and McGonagall looked exceedingly pleased.

"Well done, Hagrid. Very well done. We should perhaps have everyone wear something to identify us as allies to the acromantulas?"

"Somethin' other'n black." Hagrid recommended. "Tha' way, they'll know anyone dressed like tha's fair game." Which they would be.

McGonagall nodded. "Perhaps a sash of the person's house color. The acromantulas won't need to know the difference between the colors, just that they're not black."

"I'll tell 'em." Hagrid promised.

So everyone started wearing sashes. Yellow for Hufflepuff, red for Gryffindor, blue for Ravenclaw and green for Slytherin. The colors were deliberately kept bright, as a visible contrast to the black of the Hogwarts uniforms the students (and Snape) wore.

Mid-March, Remus finally returned ... with nearly fifty werewolves at his back, over half of whom were under the age of sixteen, having been bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Every last one of them was thin and ragged and rather pathetic looking, and Harry felt awful for them. The adults were twitchy and wary and skitish, and the children (Most of whom had only been infected in the last year) were largely traumatized.

The New Marauders met them with open arms and whatever gentleness and compassion they were willing to accept. The house-elves were in transports of joy at being able to provide food and clothing (much of the latter scavenged from the Room of Requirement) for so many. They were housed in the Slytherin Dorms, both to reassure them that they'd not be attacked by their non-wolf bunkmates and to provide them a place where they could transform without fear. Snape, after rolling his eyes and grousing to McGonagall, started a mega-batch of wolfsbane for the next month's full moon.

Harry and the New Marauders spent the best part of a week in Slytherin dorm, hanging out with Remus and the other werewolves. Gradually, they seemed to realize that Harry and company really couldn't have cared less about their lycanthropy, and were quite thoroughly comfortable around Remus. They began to come out of their shells a little bit, and several of the kids (two of whom were under the age of eight, which just made Harry want to tear Fenrir to pieces) began hanging out on the fringes of the Marauder 'pack'.

The last week of March, Filius was the one to take off for parts unknown. He returned the next day with an awe-inspiring sight ... some fifty goblins, armed to the teeth. They were accomodated in Ravenclaw Tower. Harry wondered, privately, how Filius had managed that one, but whatever he'd said or done, he didn't tell in the meeting that followed his arrival.

Two days later, just days before the end of March, Harry was outside working on his animagus transformation when he finally managed the last bit (his head).

The world looked ... very strange ... from just a foot or so off the ground. Not to mention the fact that his vision had altered drastically. The colors were sharper, clearer, and, weirdly, overlaid here and there with an odd florescence. And as much as he'd noticed movement before (hence his ability to catch the Snitch), it was even more now ... he swore he could see each individual blade of grass twitch in the breeze created by his wings as he settled himself.

It took him a minute or two to get used to the change, and then, somewhat tentatively, he tried to take off. It didn't work so well, and he nearly did a faceplant. But then he remembered a comment Sirius had made, about the animal's instincts being right there to tap into (as well as the change in emotions), and after a moment of fumbling ... all of a sudden, he knew exactly what to do.

Seconds later he was streaking into the sky like a bullet. He all but danced in the air, giving a fierce, shrieking cry of triumph and joy. As much as he'd loved flying on a broom ... this ... this was so much more. So much better! He slingshot himself around one of the towers, then swooped and dove, pulling up just in time to let his talons skim the grass. He zoomed up and towards the owlery, blazing through and startling all the owls. To his surprise, Hedwig gave chase, and he slowed enough that she could keep pace with him. To his even greater astonishment, he could understand her, sort of ... he could sense her delighted pleasure and pride. They swooped and dove around each other for a bit before Harry zoomed off again, going as fast as his wings would take him as he twisted, turned, and looped in the sky.

At some point in his exuberant display, someone 'in the know' must have spotted him, because several rather familiar animals came pouring out of the school. Harry took great delight in buzzing them, playfully snatching at their fur without actually connecting. He led them a merry dance around the grounds before he finally tired and landed, then changed back. Moments later, he was being hugged half to death by Hermione, Ron, and Ginny (Neville and the twins being off working on stuff around the castle at the time).

"That. Is. Brilliant." Harry crowed, practically bouncing. "Merlin, that's incredible. And I thought flying on a broom was good!"

There was a major celebration that night with the Marauders old and new. Somewhere in the middle of it, Harry grinned over at Remus. "You do realize, you're going to have an awful lot of company, come next full moon, right?"

"Well of course, I'm going to be with the other werewolves." Remus pointed out, only to promptly get smacked upside the head with a pillow by one of the twins.

"He means us!" the other twin pointed out.

Remus gave Harry a look and opened his mouth, and this time it was Harry that whalloped him with a pillow. "So help me, Remus, if the words 'you don't have to' come out of your mouth, I will hurt you."

Remus blushed a bit. "Very well, I won't try to argue on my behalf. The others might not be comfortable with it, though."

"They seem comfortable enough with us, and once we explain we won't be in danger, it should be ok." Harry commented, then sighed. "We're about ready, aren't we?"

"Yes." Sirius said, speaking up from Harry's other side. "You never did say how you planned on drawing Voldemort out."

"All I have to do is taunt him. I've got an idea of just how to do that, too." Harry grinned.

"WHY do I think this is going to be bad?" Sirius moaned.

"Hey!" Harry complained.

The next morning, with a little help from Dobby and Winky, he implemented his plan ... to whit, a wizarding wireless radio, and the equipment needed to broadcast. He set himself up in the room of requirement (the less everyone else heard of what he said, the better) and then looked at the two elves somberly.

"Get in and get out *fast*, you hear me? I don't want either of you hurt. Not for this."

"We is being careful, Master Harry sir." Winky chirped, and Dobby nodded emphatic agreement.

"Good luck, both of you."

They took the radio and popped out.

Five nerve-wracking minutes later, they popped back. "We is putting it under his chair, Master Harry sir." Winky said. They were both of them more than a bit trembly.

"You're ok?"

"Oh, yes, Master Harry sir." Dobby said. "But we's is not liking being in that place."

"Right. Showtime."

He'd had the radio tuned to the appropriate frequency before they left ... and now, all he had to do was piss Voldemort off badly enough to make him try and come after Harry.

Ought to be easy enough.

"You know, Tom ... you're really surprisingly pathetic. Insane, too." Harry said into the microphone. "I mean, really. Just how much intelligence does it take to get yourself stripped of powers and body by a one-year-old, again? And then to keep on trying to get that kid back ... and keep getting your butt beat? Just how badly did it hurt when I burnt you out of Quirrell, by the way? Sounded like it was rather uncomfortable. Oh, and by the way, just in case you haven't noticed? You've got a spy in your midst. Still haven't figured out who it is, have you? I'd love to tell you who it is, but really, I think I'll save telling you that for when I can tell you face to face."

Harry took a 'peek' into Voldemort's mind and nearly cheered. He was frothing in rage, but still listening. Hadn't, apparently, hexed the radio, if he even knew where it was at.

"It must really burn your biscuits, being second place to a kid less than a quarter your age. I've got more brains, more talent, and more ... well, everything ... than you've ever had. All you've got is your delusions of grandeur. Oh, and Tom? They really are delusions. You're never going to succeed. Not as long as I draw breath. Not even that nice, fancy wand you stole's going to help you. Oh yes, I know all about that. And a great many other things, too."

THAT seemed to do it. The gibbering rage was joined by horror. And a determination to wipe Harry off the face of the planet, post haste and forthwith.

"See you soon, Tommy boy. I'm going to enjoy this."

HPHPHP

Between then and the full moon, it quickly became clear that Voldemort had taken the bait. He was gathering his forces as fast as he could. Harry grinned as he forewarned everyone of what they'd likely be facing, and the traps and protections were quickly tailored to them.

The evening of the fifth, the New Marauders retired to the Slytherin dorm, and spent the night with the werewolves. It ended up being quite a lot of fun, since everyone had taken the wolfsbane, and therefore was in their right mind, and more minded to romp and play and be goofy than trying to gnaw themselves or others into ribbons. That so many people were willing to actually spend a nght as animagi in order to be with them seemed to hit most of the werewolves rather hard, if in a good way. Harry was just relieved that Voldemort hadn't been ready to go that night, as having to deal with Fenrir's pack on a full moon would have been more than a bit hair-raising. It was going to be bad enough when that lot were human.

And then, Voldemort was ready. The castle hunkered down, readying itself for battle. All the kids under fourth year were stashed in the most remote corner of the castle they'd been able to find, surrounded by the heaviest protections. The remaining population of Hogsmeade (whom the castle had been hosting thanks to the town being razed), Order, aurors, goblins, werewolves, students and staff tried (mostly unsuccessfully) to get a good night's sleep, knowing what would be coming in the next twenty-four hours.