The Crossroads of Fate

Chapter 1: The Final Ultimatum

A/N: In response to Nobody's review. I completely forgot to answer this before back during Book 6 but in any case, it's not a stupid question. As we all know nobody is going to make a fan fiction into a movie lest they get sued into the next century, it's really a question of how I envision my characters looking like. The only reason I can't answer is because I don't really know a lot of actors and actresses to think who would play a character in my series. Even worst, I don't know many child/teenage actors at all to be able to answer with confidence. The only young actor I do know is Freddie Highmore, who I guess I can see as young Albus, definitely not teenage. The only one I am confident of is that Dubium could definitely be played by Christopher Lee.

The boy ran across the passageway. There really was nothing more for it. He had to find his father and get him out. The Malfoys were sitting this one out, why not them? He was seventeen, he had just became an adult and he knew one thing. Once Lord Voldemort took command, things would not be as promised. He was to understand that Hogwarts would never be attacked, that a school teaching magic would always exist. When Voldemort attacked Hogwarts, that eliminated the number one promise that mattered. Very few, Pure-blood or otherwise, would be allowed in Hogwarts once he was in control. The boy knew this, and so he had a duty to make his father see reason and flee.

Just as he reached the Room of Requirement again, he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He jumped and took out his wand but it was only one of his few friends. Maximus Tyro. Tyro was only sixteen and a year below him. He was a Slytherin too, just like him but he was Half-blood. His father was a Muggle. The boy sensed nothing bad about him though. He came from good stock where his mother was concerned at the very least.

"You're being stupid, you know," Tyro said musingly.

"Leave me alone," the boy said firmly, turning around back to the exit. He needed to find his father, not waste time with Half-bloods.

"So, what do you intend to do?" Tyro asked curiously. "Take Potter's side?"

The boy stopped, "And if I do…"

"Potter's not much better, you know," Tyro shrugged. "The Dark Lord will destroy Muggle-borns but Potter's ideology would see the Pure-bloods dwindle and die. How is one better than the other? We can't trust one anymore than we can trust the other"-

"What do you suggest?" the boy yelled.

"Take the side that has the best chance of winning and hope we gain favor," Tyro yawned. "Right now that would be… ah, yes- The Dark Lord."

"Or I take my father and get the hell out of the country," the boy shot back. "I've already lost my mother, I'm not losing my father too!"

"Your father is on the winning side"-

"The Dark Lord is attacking a fortified castle and you think he's gonna win?" the boy asked, puzzled. "Ok, fine, stay, let me know how it goes for you. I'm taking my father and leaving."

It was much easier said than done though. He was present during the first stage of the battle and barely got away from Death Eaters and Order members alike. He thought Draco Malfoy, who was also there, noticed him but nothing happened. When the brief respite from the battle took place, he thought of journeying in to the Forbidden Forest but he did not want to face an angry Dark Lord alone. He would die. Not that he was safer in a castle full of angry, wounded people. Damn it. Why did his father have to take part in this errand?

Apparently, Harry Potter gave himself up and the second stage of the battle began. That was when the boy found his father. His father, an old widower who had lost his wife years ago and in front of his son no less. The boy ran for him, attempting to reach for him. He was so close. He withdrew his wand, prepared to defend himself to get to him. Things were very chaotic in the Great Hall. The Dark Lord himself was there and he was killing everyone in his sight indiscriminately, Pure-bloods and Half-bloods alike. The boy saw some brave teachers put up a fight and some reinforcements arrived.

Seriously, the Dark Lord was not as smart as people claimed. Did he not expect reinforcements and a massive failure upon invading a school manned with battlements and Thestrals? Even the Centaurs barged in and the boy even saw his fellow Slytherin students rush in with his old Potions teacher in the lead. The boy cast down a Death Eater with a quick Curse, afraid he was about to die. He was about to receive retaliatory fire from the Dark Lord when a Shield Charm distracted them and allowed the boy to get away. Whoever cast the Shield Charm was invisible but the boy did not care. His father was just there, so close…

Just then, a stray spell struck his father right over the heart and the old man stopped. The boy froze too, staring in shock. His father turned to him briefly, meeting his eyes for a final time before falling over. Dead.

"NO!" the boy yelled. "Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!"

The spell did not even work. His wand did not expel the Killing Curse. The boy never was able to perform it. It had the Carrows thinking he was weak at one point. His yells did not go unnoticed though. Just before he could turn and rush the first person he could meet, a red-haired adult flooring the Minister, a spell from Ron Weasley struck him in the face and he fell back. He knew only darkness. The boy did not awaken until later, practically dying in the middle of the Great Hall. He stared up at the now rising sun, wondering if it would be his last sight before a familiar black-haired boy with glasses appeared over him.

"We have another one!" Harry yelled.

Two figures appeared next to him. Ron and Hermione. Ron raised his eyebrows, "Whoa, and a Slytheirn no less. Whose side were you on?"

"My father- they killed my father," the boy muttered, wanting to get up as Hermione bent down and healed his injuries.

"What's your name?" Hermione asked kindly.

And the boy, the orphan who had just lost his father took a last breath before returning to darkness, "Th-Theodore Nott."

Present day…

Harry Potter stood alone. Or as alone as he could stand. Every single time he hoped to do something alone, he had to be joined and here they were. Ron and Hermione were there too. He examined a tree bark and Hermione was performing a spell on the area. Ron was leaning casually back, watching impatiently as Hermione continued performing a spell. Harry walked over to the clearing in the forest. The grass had been trampled on, a fallen instrument Goblins usually used was there, and vampire dust was scattered all over the place. At the end was a fallen Inferi, Necram they called them. They were definitely there. And there seemed to have been a battle. They seemed to like staying in secluded areas like cornfields or forests. They might even have a high presence in Wiltshire.

"Hermione, do you like taking a long time?" Ron asked in mock interest.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and stepped back, "You, Ronald, are about to learn why even trees have ears. Any living thing reflects sound and trees happen to be living. Now, watch this." And she waved her wand, doing a spectacular twirl with it, muttering a song-like incantation before stopping abruptly. They heard rustling in the air, as if it was replaying what had happened before. It sounded as though the Reservation were all around them, invisible, even though they were long gone.

"The Orb has strengthened the shields," Dubium's voice announced. "There will be no more destructive attacks on it. It is invincible as long as I am alive and it is impossible to kill me as long as the Orb is in one piece and the Orb cannot be destroyed due to the intensity of the souls within and hiding it in the Unseen Lands will make such a task impossible. Only those who are deliberately allowed in, or those who have visited before are able to enter and only those who are allowed to leave may leave. You, Aramaster, are the only one entrusted with this. Hide it away. And know this. If you tell a soul where it is, you and your little crew will be killed upon pain of torture. Do you understand?"

"Yes, m'lord," a child's shaky voice sounded.

More rustling and a loud crack signaling Apparation. That was the end. Hermione smirked and Ron stared, "You are brilliant."

"Good enough, Harry?" Hermione asked a grim Harry. "We got information. If we do not tell the DA and something happens to us, this will have been for nothing. We must go back to Godric's Hollow."

Harry sighed. He knew she was right. He could not argue with that. He was not done investigating, but he was definitely going to have to pay separate visits to Ginny and spill some secrets. If he did die, it was best people knew. As many as possible. "Ok, let's go."

"Finally, a brain has developed," Ron sighed.

The Unseen Lands…

Putus Dubium had been defied too many times. First he was defied by the Minister, then the Headmaster of the infernal school, he was defied by mere students, beaten by his own grandson, thrown into a coma shortly after and if it was not for the loyalty few of his faithful brothers and sisters in arms had shown, he would not have survived. He once again paid a visit to his Lands to place the Black Orb there. He happened upon this Orb because of his now deceased son whose travels took him to Avalon early in his career. His son had, in the end betrayed him so it was no loss that he had gone. Now Dubium had his sights set on Howarts, the Orb needed to be close by. The Orb reacted to magic and magic was present in these Lands and these Lands were near Hogwarts. The more magic the Orb detected, the more powerful his ship and now the Necram were. What happened before would never happen again. Now, destroying the ship was impossible unless the Unseen Lands were entered… and that could not be done.

Though most of the Reservation members did not leave him upon his defeat, he was no longer Praetor. They were loyal only as a rebellious faction and with the Unbreakable Vow extending to the entirety of the group, they were rebels only until the new Praetor gave orders. His grandson now held the title. Dubium still maintained order regardless so in the end, his grandson was just a useless thorn. A thorn that would snap once the Pure side claimed victory. Despite his absolute order, one thing was done without his knowledge. A witch in command named Clarissa carried out an attack against those who claimed to be the Hogwarts School Governors. It was carried out a week after his revival and they were stopped from deciding a new Headmaster. As a result, Hogwarts was officially closed. One thing bothered him, though. Despite Hogwarts being closed, he received no reports of students leaving.

The students must have remained inside, thinking it was safer. The migration of many to Hogsmeade and the rapid rebuilding of Hogsnout as well as inhabitation of the caves off in the mountains supported this. Still, it was meaningless. According to his intelligence, the Ministry was in charge of most protections and none but the Minister could break them. Hogwarts was weak that way. If Dubium could take the Ministry, an attempt on Hogwarts would be easier. He could still not enter the school but with Hogwarts officially closed, nobody entered and nobody left. The kids were stuck in there alone. Eventually, one by one, they would join him as his new protégé, Aramaster Ruse had done. He for one had plenty of information concerning how the kids worked. Dubium was no fool. He seemed unable to spill one thing but Dubium did not know what it was to act on it.

According to him, they were organized. They were the reason he was defeated the first time. The attack from his grandson let alone that infernal, dangerous girl, was coordinated and planned. This made that girl all the more dangerous. Dubium was no fool. She was dangerous to his plans and she had to be stopped.

"Move out of the lands," Dubium ordered his men. "Ruse, you are in charge."

"Yes, m'lord," Aramaster bowed.

"No one comes in or out without your knowledge," Dubium told him. "Men! Move out! We make for Diagon alley. For too long, it has been a gathering place for those attending that useless school. We will reinforce his closure by destroying what is left of it."

As the ship ascended into the air, he looked down at the Lands he ruled over. His Empire. The beaches were white with sand but there was no way in or out except by the forest unless he went by air. Only his ship could because only he knew where the Lands were. The dead, the Necrams as he had called them to give them a more significant name than Magical Inferi, stood guard over the forest, watching all entrances in and out. They numbered about sixty but only few would be needed to defend those Lands from anyone at the school. Whoever was left. Dubium required forty with him to make an impression on the residents of Diagon Alley. It was the home of all witches and wizards when they needed to buy their supplies. A common gathering place.

The boy who had betrayed his men was there, too. According to Aramaster, a major reason why the New Roots had failed in their mission was the discovery of the special wands made for them. The discovery was led to by a cowardly and traitorous child and he would be punished severely for giving in to their threats. A loyal brother would die for the cause. And that child would die. He would be forced to give up the locations and names of the people who interrogated him and then he would be killed for daring to betray him. He had a chance of prestige and he betrayed him. He betrayed the new world by giving up the secrets to others. The one advantage the kids had in the New Roots was taken away. Still, their ultimate mission had succeeded. The Headmaster was dead.

The ship sailed through the skies, Dubium standing at the forefront with two men around him. Men named Florean and Jacques. The two stood solemnly, doing nothing and saying nothing as the ship sailed on, leaving the Reservation's lands behind. He did not think they would be returning to those lands. The Black Orb was safe in the child's hands. Aramaster had proven himself when he successfully broke out of his imprisonment and had the Headmaster killed. Dubium knew of only two possible matches to his power: the Headmaster and the Minister. One was now dead. However, there was that girl, that blonde girl who dared to face him and despite losing, lived. She was the first one to lose a duel to him and live to tell the tale. Now Dubium was back at full power; however, the girl was nothing. She barely lived when he was weakened, she would die later. She was yet another thorn that would snap in due time.

"Florean, ready the fire cannons," Dubium ordered calmly. "Jacques, inform Kalia that she is required to make sure of the Goblin's arrival. It is time for the destruction of Wizardkind to commence."

As they went to their respective duties, Dubium conjured with his hands a parchment. Diagon Alley was well protected but it was not invincible like he was. It was protected only by Runes and artifacts keeping shields and anti-magical spells up. But not for long. It took a long while but his infiltrators had finally discovered their locations and were ready to collapse the protections. The parchment remained blank but it turned sea blue upon touching it. The wait was not long. All that was left was to arrive. Kalia reported that the Goblins were in position. Good. It was time to strike the Wizarding world with the true meaning of fear. If all went according to plan, none would dare to stand against him. The Necram stood silently and sightless at the side of the ship where the bridge would be let down, when he would attack with grounded forces. If he did. There was one more thing he had to do.

Before the day was up, the ship finally arrived. Dubium did as planned and let down a parchment to explode with his voice, amplified to be heard by everyone in the Alley.

"Residents of Diagon Alley. For too long, you have acted as a gathering place for witches and wizards of all ages. For too long you have sold school supplies, books of arcane knowledge distributed so freely among the populace without thought for how they may be used against those that seek to better this impure world. For too long you have been sheltered and protected. This does not exist anymore. Your Ministry cannot protect you, your kids are without a school, and your businesses are doomed to failure. Your streets are empty, your stalls are dismantled and your bank is dark. The Goblins stand against you as of now, the Centaurs will rally to my cause soon enough and if you are wise, you will too. Abandon your homes and give yourselves up, men, women and children. No more hiding. Give yourselves up and you will face judgment, judgment to decide if you are to be spared. Remain and you will be punished without hesitation. I am letting down by bridge. Those who choose to join me will converge in front. I am giving you all one hour.

Dubium watched from the ship for any sign of potential new followers. His siege on Hogwarts did not go the way it was meant to. He had been relying on divisions in the Wizarding world to win out but the Wizarding world proved too resilient. The fool Soto had given him unreliable information in this regard. Reports of divisions were meaningless. What Soto did not know was his ability to raise and reanimate the dead better than any Wizard had ever done before. He had also though to take advantage of the desire amongst magical creatures to see their Wizarding masters destroyed. The Goblins had joined him instantly even if the pathetic Centaurs and House elves had not yet seen fit. Dementors were his natural allies, vampires were gathering on Muggle towns for a later battle, and Werewolves were surrounding the mountainside off Hogsmeade though their allegiance was not yet known.

Slowly, results started being shown. The first to arrive was a young man in his late teens, probably fresh out of Hogwarts. He was allowed on where Reservists had him lay on his belly to await judgment. After he left his home, more and more started showing themselves. Men and women and even children gave themselves up. Dubium watched as up to twenty people joined him. He waited for his promised hour, watching as still more, albeit less than the first wave, showed up. Most of them were children now, many younger than Hogwarts age. They were shaking, terrified as Dubium fixed them with a hard, dangerous stare. They were right to be scared. And there would be more to fear soon enough. It seemed that the majority chose death.

From Azkaban, all the prisoners joined in a heartbeat. Would this have meant better results if he had opted to imprison Diagon alley instead? Would it have been better had he chosen to attack to Leaky Cauldron? Only thirty men and women joined in the end, the rest were children. And very few children had joined him. Dubium, was, it seemed, mistaken. He had assumed that they would at least send their kids in hopes they might be spared. It seemed that the residents decided to cower in their homes. Very well. They had chosen their fates. He turned to his men beside him, "Take the children away. They are too young to be judged. They shall prove their worth some other way. Kalia, go inside the Leaky Cauldron and kidnap the children we left there two years ago. It is time they chose their paths."

Longer, he waited. Nobody else joined him. Kalia returned with ten more underage, terrified kids which Dubium faced apathetically. "Now is the time to choose your fates!" he told them. "I will allow you half an hour more of life before coming to such a decision. It is prudent to see what you choose to face should you refuse my offer. Jacques, prepare the Necram. It seems that the people of Diagon Alley had made their choices and their hour is almost up. Prepare yourselves. This will be our first major battle for control of the Wizarding world. Tell our infiltrators to take out the artifacts and destroy the protections."

Ollivander's wand shop…

Melvin Ollivander was dead. He certainly felt it. When the threat was heard by the people of Diagon alley, a wave of fear overtook him and the boy beside him. Greater than what he felt when Soto took him and when Harry questioned him upon his return from Hogwarts. He was one of the few students who left. And he only left because he was given a passageway out, he crossed many passages and the DA connected their headquarters with Ollivander's wand shop just for him, just so he could care for his ailing grandfather and younger brother whilst their parents left the country. A man who was on a difficult road to recovery and a boy just about to start Hogwarts.

Melvin stared out the window at the fearful ship, trying to ignore Morpheus' frequent, shaky questions. Many kids his age and younger made for it, many of whom he knew, none of which were his friend, all of which he was sure snuck out against their parents' wishes. Fear did that to a person. He felt his golden galleon. The DA had given it to him in case he ever needed to report anything. Ideally, this was the situation they were expecting. He was expected to alert them immediately. He did not. Not just yet. He was dead either way and so was Morpheus. The Reservation would find him, kill him for betraying them, and probably turn him into one of those reanimated magical zombies. He had one choice. He did not want to do it but he did not want to die either and he had to protect Morpheus at the very least. He was a Metamorphmagus and therefore, a very rare kind of Wizard and the first of the Ollivanders to possess the ability. An ability Melvin did not have despite having the same mother. If they died, the tradition of using three major cores would be forever lost and tarnished. They had to live.

He had only one choice. He had to take his brother and join with them. They would forgive him. He knew things. He could give them directions, show them the way to Hogwarts through the portrait, lead them to the DA's new quarters and help the Reservation put an end to them. He could lead them to certain victory. If they trusted him, they would win. Or, he could do what was right and alert the DA, fight back and take refuge in Hogwarts, a castle that was established as safe, even from the Reservation. For now… no, he had to take the option likelier to let them live. It was only as long as the war. Once it was over, he would return to his quiet life and start selling wands again to whoever asked for them. He sighed, pocketing the galleon, knowing he was not going to use it. "Morpheus, follow me."

He put his hand on the doorknob when a hand touched his shoulder. Melvin jumped. "Grandfather!'

"You've learned so much, Melvin," Mr. Garrick Ollivander said. "I know your heart is in the right place but there are alternatives."

"We can't risk it," Melvin reasoned. "They- they're going to destroy this shop, kill us, erase everything we've ever recorded. New facts that we discovered, together, to revolutionize wand making!"

"I- I don't wanna die," little Morpheus said shakily.

"Shops can be rebuilt,"-

"Our legacy can't," Melvin argued tearfully.

"My dear boy, once they win," Ollivander said quietly, motioning his head in a gesture towards the window. "Our legacy will mean nothing. There will be no wizards left to sell to. They are ignorant of our world and Wizardkind will quickly die out. Population growth will be unsustainable. Melvin… flee."

"FLEE?" Melvin cried, tears flying out. "No! Not- not without this shop! Our records! I have an image! I am in charge and I have to join them. They can forgive me! They have to. I can give them victory!"

"You mean you intend to betray Harry Potter?" Ollivander asked him. When Melvin went silent, Ollivander continued solemnly. "During the second war against the Dark Lord, I betrayed everyone by divulging even a fraction of the knowledge I had about the Elder Wand. Do not make that same mistake, not when our family owes that man our lives! Do not give in to fear. Give yourself a future, give your brother a future. Live to fight another day. Alert the DA and leave the rest to me."

"What- what're you"-

"Send message, flee by portrait, I will destroy it upon your disappearance," Ollivander said solemnly. "And I will hold them off as long as I can until the DA can arrive."

Morpheus understood before Melvin did, "You can't"-

"Yes, I can," Ollivander assured him. "Flee!"

Melvin stared at his grandfather, the window, his shaky little brother and his grandfather again, all the while his hand playing with the galleon in his pocket. His grandfather was right, of course. But was right the best way to a life? Was that not what everyone was entitled to? He sighed, knowing he was beaten either way. Going outside would place Morpheus in danger too and at all costs, Melvin had to protect Morpheus. He was dead either way. He knew he was. Even if he joined them, his grandfather would fight and he would be asked to renounce that name and he was not renouncing his Ollivander name. He would die with it. With a flare of pride, he took out the galleon and sent a quick message, trusting it to burn, trusting the burn alone would alert them, trusting that someone somewhere, the Leaky Cauldron or Weasley's Wizard Wheezes where Angelina ran the shop temporarily, would send message too.

"Leave, I will hold them off," Ollivander said, strength returning as he gulped down the last of the Strengthening solution.

"I love you grandfather," Melvin sobbed, hugging him one last time. "I will m-make you proud."

He stayed back as Morpheus hugged their grandfather too. "Make me proud and live," Ollivander whispered. "I will always be watching you."

With those final words, Melvin grabbed a drawer full of papers filled with studies written by his grandfather, seized his brother by the arm, and fled through the portrait, through the tunnel that would lead to a place in London. A place where at least one DA member should be to take him to headquarters and give him a safe passage to Hogwarts. Unless the Reservation had already found the safe house and was waiting for them on the other side, they were already safe. He heard it being destroyed and could feel the uneven air in the tunnel. The light from one side was gone. They arrived on the other side in no time, knowing they were safe for now. Melvin touched the galleon to send message. Here was to hoping that his message got through and perhaps his grandfather was true to his word and made it.

Morpheus kept asking continued questions, questions Melvin could not answer. "Does this mean I'm not going to Hogwarts? Where's grandfather? Who'll look after the shop? What about our wands? What if we die? Will"-

"Morph, just shut up, ok?" Melvin snapped. "Shut up and let me think!"

"I don't want to die either!" Morpheus said back. "Mother and father left me here so I can go to Hogwarts. Why did I not go with them to Egypt if I was going to"-

"Will you shut up?" Melvin snapped. "I'm trying to think." He did hope his grandfather would make it.

Ollivander, of course, had no intention of making it. He fired protective spells using every experimental wand core he ever possessed. He hated using cores other than Phoenix, Dragon and Unicorn but desperate times called for desperate measures. These were what were left of Melvin's experiments. Melvin took only the notes and studies to remake them, so all would not be lost. The protective enchantments seemed to be doing their jobs. From them, he fired the most destructive fiery spells with a Fire crab ember core. It could not reach the protected and shielded ship but it would block the dead off. They feared fire, he hoped. Studies showed they feared fire. He would soon see if this was true even for Necram.

A ring of fire encircled the ship, unable to be quenched. But this also meant his position was given away. It was time to fight directly now.

Ollivander showed himself at the door, firing spells off as much as he could. As he showed himself, the Reservists rushed off their ship, down the bridge leading down, past the Necram who were noticeably keeping back from the raging flames, and fought back. Their first attack was charming the fire to attack Ollivander instead. Ollivander conjured a great spout of water using a Kelpie mane wand core and drenched them all, using the distraction to fire Stunning spells with his usual wands. He threw the rest of the cores away and fired Stunners and Disarmers at them.

Dubium watched neutrally as his brothers and sisters fought that man off. He was putting up a fight but only because of the unusual defenses he placed around the dwelling he resided in. None of his spells did much harm. They were deflected and re-angled, neither hitting its appropriate target. Still, he realized his members were not getting anywhere either. Their spells were mysteriously avoiding him as he fired. There was nothing else for it. He called them back and sent the Necram. The reanimated dead trudged through the now dying embers towards the man. Ollivander continued firing fiery spells at them but they doused them with water, fire having little effect.

"Every Wizard has a weakness," Dubium taught the fearfully watching kids. "But the dead… that is everyone's weakness if you know how to use them. Behold!"

Ollivander fell to a jet of green light fired by a young-looking Necram, one of the younger combatants fallen in the Battle of Hogwarts. Dubium looked ready to declare victory and order a massacre when out of Ollivander's shop and out of the Leaky Cauldron entrance rushed men and women. Judging by their plainclothes, they were from the infernal Dumbledore's Army that had given him a lot of trouble over the past year until their headquarters were overrun. The Potter house. It was strange, choosing an obvious location as Headquarters but they seemed to have learned their lesson. He would have to capture one and torture for information. He could not allow them to run around any longer.

Jets of light and bangs were exploding, the DA had run all over the place, firing aimlessly but always moving. They made themselves difficult to catch. As the Necram retook positions on the ship, Dubium ordered the fiery rain to fall on them. He watched, expecting to see something similar to what Hogwarts saw, but something happened. Hermione was standing in the middle of the alleyway, Neville was standing at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron and Luna was standing near the end of the alleyway. They pointed their wands in the air and a shield repelled it all, all the fire, the lava, the spells, everything. It was only temporary but it got the job done.

Dubium ordered another spout of fire but at that instant, Ministry Wizards rushed in with blood-red robes and fired too. More fire fell, Dubium increased it to all the power to ship possessed. It would need to recharge its energy after this. A great torrent of water met the last of the fire, creating steam. Dubium used a spell to descend the steam and mist into the Alley and turned to the Necram and Reservists at his command. "Wipe them all out! Take the alley! Kill whoever stands in your way! GO!"

In hiding…

Melvin did not look back. He went across the portrait quickly, knowing the other was destroyed as soon as he entered, knowing that there was only one place he could come out of now. He stumbled out and looked around hurriedly. He found what looked like an old chopped table leg. It was a Portkey, he knew. This was the place he was asked to come to if he was in danger. He was told that they would leave a portkey for him if one DA member could not be there. The absence of one meant they were all attacking by now. The DA would not come, he knew. They would all die in the battle.

Melvin did not know if he cared for their fates or not. After losing his grandfather, the feeling of empathy for others was somehow lost to him. He knew he would feel terrible later but for now, his only concern was Morpheus and the two staying put until someone fetched him. If someone fetched them. What if they did die and nobody fetched them? They need not use the Portkey. He did not know if it would take him to a good location. He needed to wait. He turned to the portrait and destroyed it, not caring for the bloody Underage restrictions at that moment. He had to think. Would the DA win? He knew what the Reservation could do. He helped them under threat of death but they could not hide their power during his brief stay with them before his previous Hogwarts year started.

They could fire from their ship, they could obliterate Diagon alley in seconds. But that sort of spell was easily countered. If the DA were smart, they would protect against it, particularly if they knew its power after what happened at Hogwarts. They did know its power. Hogwarts reported it after the attack a mere week ago. They also had the reanimated dead. Inferi that could use magic. Dubium called them Necram. He did not know much more than what everyone else knew. He and his grandfather- when he was awake- would talk about them. When Morpheus wasn't around. Grandfather seemed to believe that fire was still their weakness, but with magic they could douse it. They would need water-repelling Charms on the actual battlefield before getting rid of them and that carried risks of being unable to counter the Reservation's fire. It was what the Reservation wanted them to do.

As Melvin thought these words, he knew whose side he was on. There was a reason his grandfather's words still hung in his head and why he saved his notes. Because he intended to live to fight another day. And he would fight. He would try to avoid it but in the end, regardless of whose side he took, he would have to fight, especially to protect his younger brother. Would Melvin live? He was beginning to doubt it. Only one thing was for it. If they were to live, they would have to get to Hogwarts. The DA would not win this battle and if Goblins were involved, even if the Ministry got involved, they were still outnumbered and that did not even account for the residents of Knockturn Alley who would probably attack during the chaos and join the Reservation after helping them in hopes of being part of their new world.

"Morph," Melvin said shakily and turned to his brother. Morpheus was a boy of eleven. He had turned eleven three months ago. His natural look was brown hair with a small nose and green eyes. Since the look was so typical to him, he preferred to look exotic and wore his hair green and had a hooked nose with red eyes. Melvin was envious of his Metamorphmagi powers but he still loved him and he still had to protect him. "I'm going to get us to Hogwarts. Ok? See that leg. On the count of three, we must touch it."

The two brothers made for the table leg and sat beside him. "One… two… three!"

Melvin and Morpheus touched it at the same time and felt themselves being transported. The two landed, staggering, in a small bungalow. Its door was shut tight and he knew no magic would open it. There did stand one portrait though. It was a portrait of a familiar-looking castle with a long path running towards it. "There!" Morpheus yelled and they climbed up and into it and raced across it, raced across the long path, not looking back until they were halfway through. He finally allowed himself rest when he stumbled out of the portrait, landing headfirst in a hut. Standing over them both, looking very annoyed, was the Werewolf girl, Lycah Thrope.