Chapter 137 – The Battle of Hogsmeade
Albus looked uncharacteristically grave after listening to Harry's report from the ravens, especially when he considered the information passed along to him from the Ministry. He immediately left for London, to meet with the Minister. He spared just a moment to reflect that, all things considered, it was to their advantage that Madam Bones occupied the office of Minister right now, rather than Cornelius Fudge. It was even more to their advantage that Fudge seemed to be a guiding force for the muggles.
The Ministry had concluded on its own earlier in the week that the convergence of so many muggles up in Scotland, at this time of year, could only mean that another attack on Hogwarts was imminent. Even the muggle government was concerned about what was going on up there. The reports of shipments of antique weaponry to locations in the north, some reports slipped into the Minister's hand by Lucius Malfoy, others provided by the muggle government, could not be ignored, either. Now Albus' input solidified the realization that something was going to happen in Scotland, and very soon.
Wizard ministries of magic do not maintain standing armies in the sense that many muggle nations do. Magical countries cooperated more than they competed. Disputes, even across borders, are most likely to be personal, and are dealt with on a personal basis. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement in wizarding Britain was a police force, and focused on issues pertaining to magical laws.
Actually, the notion of any wizard ministry needing an army to defend against muggles was laughable. Trained wizards could make very quick work, indeed, of muggles foolish enough to attack them or a magical target, simply by using their magic. The muggles might instantaneously find themselves miles away from where they were about to attack, or their target might simply disappear from view. They could be rendered immobile, or killed outright. Boulders could be charmed to roll toward them, trees could be charmed to fall on them or in their paths, all manner of things.
The situation with these muggles, at this time, was different. At the request of the Minister, the magical defenders of Hogsmeade were asked to do all they could to avoid harming the attacking muggles, and to refrain from using magic at all, if possible. This was not a popular position, especially among those agitating for the return to secrecy. However, to ignore this clear directive from their government was treason, even in the magical world, so all grudgingly went along.
The Ministry intended to rely primarily on its aurors to defend Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. Hogsmeade was, after all, a civilian target, and only a few of its citizens had any capacity for defensive magic. That had been proven over a year ago when Death Eaters attacked Harry Potter there, and more recently when a demon was summoned – the village's population ran away. Thus, the first order of business was to get as many of the civilians as possible out of the village and into the shelter of Hogwarts through the dozen passages that connected the village and the school. That way, the noncombatants would not be in the way. As soon as the muggles began assembling near Hogsmeade, the aurors would empty the town of all who could not contribute to its defense.
But the aurors were not alone. There were also the Winter Land's warriors, pledged to defend Harry Potter. While technically this expected attack was not on Hogwarts or Harry personally, the Vikings apparently felt cheated when they did not get to participate in the first, brief battle, and were itching to get involved in this one. They were also experts in the weaponry needed for this engagement, as Asgeir Brand pointed out to the Minister. While he offered to coordinate the Viking's engagement with the Ministry, Asgeir made it abundantly clear that Winter Land Warriors fought on their own terms.
The Minister actually thought the warriors were more likely to intimidate muggles, to send them packing without a battle. Most of the aurors were not distinguishable from muggles other than by their clothing. The Vikings were different. Even from her limited interaction with them, Minister Bones realized that the runts among the Vikings were six feet tall, as most of the men were closer to seven feet tall. Nor were they tall and gangly – they were extremely broad and muscled, to the extent that their physical strength was visible. They would be participating in this battle using their strength and prowess, not magic, so she saw no reason to press for them to fight under the same restraints as she was imposing on the aurors.
The battle plan initially put forth by the Ministry was curiously devoid of offensive elements, but then it anticipated only magical defenders. After consultation with Albus, and a hurried exchange of owls with Asgeir Brand, Minister Bones amended the battle plan to reflect that the Winter Lands warriors would engage on their own terms. The magical defenders were to protect the warriors if possible, but allow them free rein to battle as they saw fit.
Minister Bones finally invited the muggle Prime Minister to her offices to be briefed on the plan on Wednesday afternoon. She invited Asgeir Brand to join them. This was the Prime Minister's first visit to the Ministry, and he was escorted there by his assistant, the Ministry's auror Entwhistle, through the floo. Entwhistle saw to it that his muggle boss exited the floo upright and with some dignity as he entered his magical boss' office.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. Prime Minister," she greeted the new arrival. "Come, have a seat, and we'll get you a cup of tea – that's best to calm the stomach after one's first trip via a floo. I don't know if you've met Lord Asgeir Brand, the leader of the Winter Lands?" The two men shook hands, the six-foot tall Prime Minister somewhat awed by the much taller, stronger, and significantly older Viking. "We've established our plan to defend the village of Hogsmeade from the planned attack, and we want to brief you."
As her guest sipped cautiously on a cup of delicious tea that just popped into being at his elbow, she took a seat next to him and flicked her wand. A large parchment flew off her desk and hovered in the air before them, slowly unrolling itself.
"Alright then, this is the town that we expect to be attacked in the next day or two." She made a point of identifying the businesses along the main street: candy stores, several inns and tea houses, clothing stores, joke shops. She also identified a few of the small residences just off the main street, wishing for just a moment that she'd taken the time to have someone provide the names of who lived in each house. It probably didn't matter, though. She could tell from his demeanor that, just as his visit to Hogwarts had made it clear to him that it was a school and not a military fortress, the map made it clear that this was about as non-military a target as a place could be.
"I wanted you to know the instructions that I've given our magical defenders" she went on. "They are members of our police organization, although we are prepared, if necessary, to augment our defenders. We have in our reserves others who have appropriate training, some who work elsewhere in the Ministry, or a few volunteers who do not work for the Ministry. They will all be instructed to use magic to protect themselves but not offensively. Magic will not be used to kill or injure muggles. However, Lord Brand's men, warriors from the Winter Lands, have pledged themselves to defend Hogwarts and Hogsmeade."
She thought it prudent to leave Harry Potter's name out of this, lest he be thought to have urged them to participate.
Asgeir continued to describe the battle plans. "My men and I will defend Hogsmeade if it is attacked. We do not use magic when we fight, so the Minister's restrictions on the use of magic will not apply to us in battle. My men are all well-trained in the weaponry these muggles seem intent on using."
"I'm actually hoping that many of these misguided muggles will quit the field when they see the Vikings," Amelia observed. "Lord Brand is actually rather slight for a Viking."
The Prime Minister swallowed hard, and wrung his hands in his lap. It was bad enough that such a prominent figure as Sir Harold was involved in all this, but that it was happening on his watch as Prime Minister? His opponents would have a field day with it!
The Minister of Magic went on. She had instructed her aurors to cast enchantments and spells throughout the village, with memory erasing charms. Similar spells would be cast all around the field on which the fighting was expected to occur. In much the same way the muggles who attacked the castle a while ago no longer remembered doing so, the muggles who participated in this battle would forget why they were there and not remember having been there once they left.
The Prime Minister brightened at that news. This might yet be a very contained event. No doubt some bad publicity at some point, but he should be able to explain it, yes. This was not likely to be the end of his government. There was hope. He took a deep breath and nodded his agreement to the plan.
"And, finally, Mr. Prime Minister, I would like to invite you to observe all this from the safety of the wards at Hogwarts Castle, to verify that we have adhered to our commitments," Minister Bones offered. "When we get confirmation that hostilities seem about to commence, Mr. Entwhistle will escort you to the school. You were there at the end of the summer, and met the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and Lords Potter and Snape. Mr. Entwhistle will see to it that you are returned to your office once you are satisfied that we honored our word."
The Prime Minister waffled a bit. Yes, he'd been to Hogwarts before, and it had been all well and good. But did he really want to be an observer of a military attack? He was sure there might be political repercussions to something like that, but found it difficult to sort that all out on his own. Minister Bones and Lord Brand were waiting. Hoping against hope that he was not making a blunder from which he could not recover, he finally nodded.
While the Ministry finalized its plans and made its consultations, muggles continued arriving in the area near Sir Harold's estate, Balmoral Castle, and Hogsmeade. Local police kept them as far as possible from Balmoral, and no one really knew where Hogsmeade was, so the crowd tended to gravitate toward Sir Harold's estate. He'd instructed his grounds staff to allow them to camp on his grounds and to offer provisions to the people coming north for the battle.
The muggles might not have thought to bring heavy-duty tents or adequate food and cooking supplies, but one thing most did bring with them was a copious supply of liquor. The rowdiness of the crowd grew faster than the crowd itself. On Friday morning, the camping mob worked itself up and abandoned Sir Harold's estate. Excited about the prospect of a battle, studying maps provided by Sir Harold's men, a drunken crowd began to make its way to the field in front of Hogsmeade.
As the crowd was unaware of the existence of Hogwarts Castle, they were unaware that they were assembling just a short distance away from a massive structure, from which many were watching them. Watching the mob was quickly the main pastime for most students and guests, and they were soon joined by the very nervous-looking muggle Prime Minister.
The Headmaster quickly directed the professors who had remained in the castle over the holiday to abandon patrols within the castle itself. Their mission now, extremely unpopular in the biting December cold, was to patrol the outside of the castle to ensure that no students managed to sneak out to harry the muggles from the rear of the mob. While the wards kept all but students, professors and visitors from entering, the wards did not block anyone from leaving. That apparently depended on the vigilance of the teaching staff.
The aurors quickly directed all Hogsmeaders to the various tunnels that connected the town to the castle, and as soon as the citizenry was gone, the Vikings made their way to Hogsmeade through the three tunnels large enough to accommodate them. The school Prefects manned all the passages to Hogsmeade to assure that no students could sneak out.
Albus was gathering a small group ready to go off on brooms once the battle began, to cast memory charms around the edge of the battlefield, to befuddle combatants when they departed. He approached Severus as he was placing a final warming charm on his cloak.
"I realize how protective you are of Harry," he began, with careful emphasis on the word "protective." "But we need to get those memory charms in place as soon as the muggles are all in the field. It is not a well-trained group so we must be quick. I have already asked Minerva, Filius and Miss Granger, and I'd like you and Harry to join me. The five of you were the best at this sort of thing in Mrs. Longbottom's class, and we need efficiency."
Severus looked murderous, but cornered. "Have you mentioned this to Harry?" was his first thought. The involvement of Miss Granger made it likely that Harry was at least aware of what the Headmaster was doing.
"No, Severus, I just approached Miss Granger in the Library." Severus smirked at that – the one place she was least likely to be accompanied by either Weasley or Harry.
The Headmaster went on. "I am aware that Mr. Potter had made certain commitments to you about not becoming involved in this battle. I am speaking to you first because this is not actually going to involve participating in the battle, although it will put him on a broom in the general vicinity of the combatants. If you feel this request would violate the commitment he'd made to you, we will just do the best we can without him. I'd hoped that Sirius Black would be in the castle – he had done very well with this in the class – but he is in the Winter Lands, so I thought of Harry."
Severus knew Harry would point out, as Albus did, that this did not involve actually participating in the battle. And with Miss Granger involved, he would know all about it in short order.
"I will speak to Mr. Potter immediately. Assuming he gives his word to strictly limit his activity to casting these charms, I reluctantly agree this is not breaking his commitment," Severus muttered. He really hoped he was not going to regret this.
X
Sir Harold had persuaded Charles and Vernon to stay up at his estate for a few extra days, as all indications were that there would be a critical mass poised for an attack very shortly. Vernon was a bit concerned about Petunia's reaction to his absence from home all week, especially with Marge in town. But he really enjoyed spending time in the luxury of the estate. Yes, he could definitely get used to this sort of life! He was also very excited at the prospect of the glory and renown he would enjoy after leading a decisive victory over magic. Ultimately, he convinced himself it was all for the best that he stay on in Scotland.
As the crowd was spilling in the nearby field on Friday, the three self-proclaimed leaders of the anti-magic Movement were joined by Reggie Mason and two Riddle cousins. As a group, they travelled to the field, riding in camouflaged troop trucks, along with the Brigadier and a number of men who had been to the estate earlier in the fall for training on the old weapons.
Today would be the day. It was cold and the wind was biting, but the snow had stopped falling, and sun was shining feebly. Sir Harold, Vernon and Charles looked proud and excited – each in his own way, they expected great things to come of this battle.
The Brigadier had equipped the men he had trained with walkie-talkies as they prepared to deploy into the now-large crowd. He quickly established a base on a hill overlooking the field of battle, joined by his employer. He pointed to a hill a bit closer to Hogsmeade and dispatched Reggie and two Riddle cousins there with walkie-talkies to provide additional perspective. Vernon and Charles were directed to a hill on the other side of the field, with similar tools and instructions.
From his base, and with input from the other observation teams, the Brigadier intended to provide direction to the men fighting in the field. Those men now moved among the crowd, offering tips on how to use some of the antique weapons that people had brought along, and creating some sort of order, but it was an uphill battle. This was really more of a mob than an organized attack force, and they were enthusiastic, inebriated, and armed.
The first trebuchet was supposed to be launched on the Brigadier's orders, as it was the signal to all the trained troops to begin the assault.
Unfortunately, several university students on holiday from Swansea had commandeered an unattended catapult as soon as they took the field at dawn, stashing a case of ale at its base. They were just horsing around, really, but when they saw the recently-arrived troops taking control of some of the other siege engines, they wanted to be sure they got to keep their big machine, rather than hand it over to the late arrivals. They climbed onto it, and as one of their number was working his way up to the very top, one of the others accidentally loosed the catch and launched it. They had already jostled it enough to point it, not at Hogsmeade, but at the small hill off to the side, where Reggie and two Riddle cousins were standing, scanning the field with binoculars. They weren't watching for incoming projectiles, so they did not see the boulder coming straight at them.
The first fatality of the Battle of Hogsmeade was a Riddle cousin, a wizard, hit by muggle fire. Of course, since the signal to attack was the launch itself, almost no one realized that anything was amiss. The battle commenced, and quickly turned into a free-for-all.
Other trebuchets and catapults immediately launched their ammunition. At least most of these were actually directed at Hogsmeade and had ranges far enough that the muggle troops now starting to surge forward beneath them were not endangered by the launches. The stones and boulders did not do much harm to Hogsmeade, although the muggles couldn't really see that. The wizards in the rear were arresting the falls of the stones or boulders, or causing them to fragment before getting close to structures.
Once initial loads of stones and bolders were shot, there was the matter of a supply chain to reload them. A few carts with suitable rocks were scattered about, but the men working the trebuchets could not always find them quickly, especially as many were covered in snow, and the snow and mud on the ground made it very difficult to move the carts around. After three or four salvos, most of the trebuchets were out of ammunition. As the crowd of muggles pressed forward, the large siege engines could not be moved off the field because they were trapped in a mob of muggles.
Several of the now-silent catapults and trebuchets were quickly "claimed" by small groups of muggles (not unlike the young men from Swansea who started it all). They climbed onto the large apparatuses, some seeking a better view, some hoping to escape the crush of people pressing forward, some now starting to have doubts about this whole "battle" thing. The buckets at the top of the structures looked like great seats with a good view. More than a few muggles got themselves settled into the buckets, enjoying the mayhem below from what felt like a safe distance. Every once in a while, someone else on that same catapult would accidentally (or maybe deliberately) launch it, sending the muggle in the bucket flying into the air. The launched muggles seldom went all that far forward, but were usually propelled high enough to land very heavily on other muggles slightly in front of them.
Toward the front of the battle lines, archers had assembled as soon as the trebuchets were silent. The battle plan anticipated that their way would have been cleared somewhat by the salvos from the trebuchets. However, the village did not look damaged at all. To the archers' horror, people who looked like Vikings were appearing at the edge of the town and walking toward them. The men were huge. They wore their usual leather and fur armor, wielded enormous swords and maces, and held shields the size of doors lightly in their non-fighting hands. Several were clad in braces of glittering scale-mail, as well.
The archers fired a barrage of arrows, most of which fell far short of the intended targets. The few arrows that actually got close to the Vikings were easily deflected. The archers, especially the ones with no formal training on bow and arrow, looked at each other uneasliy. Clearly, this was harder than it looked. Many of them had chosen the bow because it looked easy enough and allowed distance between them and anyone who might mean them harm. This wasn't going quite as they expected. Most of them started to fade back into the ranks of fighters behind them.
The men with maces and swords who had been pushing in behind the archers now surged forward, putting themselves between the archers and the Vikings. Most of the archers still interested in fighting lowered their weapons, fearful of hitting their comrades. However, the fact that their comrades were now in the line of fire never occurred to some of them. Most of the muggle battle casualties of the day were inflicted by other muggles, muggles launched from siege engines into the crowd below them, and many shot in the back with arrows by several archers who did not appreciate how poorly they were aiming their shots.
As muggles with maces and swords like their own now came into view, the Vikings shouted, and charged forward. The most well-trained of the muggle men pressed forward gamely, confident that their skills would enable them to prevail against physically larger opponents. Others pressed forward completely unaware how overmatched they were.
Sir Harold was standing proudly on a boulder, watching the battle through a large pair of field binoculars. The Brigadier looked up at him and shook his head. He was disgusted with the unruly mob scene before him. He would have estimated that well over half of his combatants were drunk, and even among the sober, they had no idea what they were doing. Apparently, this was a lark for most of them. The relatively few trained troops were so outnumbered, they could not make a difference.
Earlier in the week, the Brigadier had spoken to Sir Harold about the importance of taking just a well-trained force into the field. He had seen the kind of people who were already arriving near the estate, and did not want to include them in the battle. Sir Harold, on the other hand, wanted large numbers. As a military man, the Brigadier respected his chain of command, and as a retired military man, he knew who signed his paychecks. He thus accepted Sir Harold's directive to welcome all who arrived up in Scotland wanting to take on the wizards. And this was the result. The Brigadier thought it was shameful.
Across the way, Reggie had become hysterical when he and Hiram Riddle had realized that cousin Adney seemed to have been killed. In his complete distress, Reggie could not remember how to work the walkie-talkie, and he fiddled with it for quite a while before he got an answer to his cries for help from the Brigadier.
"Brigadier! Brigadier! Help! Can you hear me? It's Mason and the Riddles. Please, can anyone hear us?" Reggie had cried, the first message he had succeeded in transmitting.
"Aye, I hear you. What's the problem, lad?" came the brusque answer.
"We've been hit, sir. A huge boulder, from one of those big contraptions out there. Flew through the air, we didn't see it coming. Hit Adney. He's . . . he's dead, we think." Reggie had no idea what to do, and stood awaiting instructions.
Hiram "Riddle" had seen enough of death in his role as a Death Eater, and he realized pretty quickly that Adney was gone. As soon as Reggie was occupied with that little box the Brigadier had given him, he apparated away. Reggie still had not noticed that he'd gone.
Vernon had overheard the exchange between Reggie and the Brigadier. His blood ran cold. It had never occurred to him that this could get personally dangerous. He certainly had not bargained for anything that could result in injury, or God forbid, death!
"Did you hear that, Charles?" he demanded of his fellow leader. "One of the Riddle boys was killed! We have to do something – this is getting out of hand!"
Cornelius looked as concerned as Vernon felt, although he was wondering what on earth Dursley had expected. He knew full well that this attack was going to involve weapons; that had been clear from the start. What did the fool think the weapons were going to do? Granted, that sounded like the Riddle boy was killed by his own side, but weapons are weapons. They do damage.
Cornelius assessed the melee in front of him. There were a growing number of muggle combatants who had realized that this was not exactly what they expected, and they were starting to run off the field of battle, away from Hogsmeade. With the catapults and trebuchets silenced (except for the occasional muggle-launching), and most of the archers trying to join those running for safety, the battle was mostly between combatants with swords.
He was certain that one of the men he saw through the odd-looking spy-glass he'd been given by the Brigadier was Asgier Brand. That meant that the Winter Lands Vikings were defending Hogsmeade, not the fool shopkeepers who lived there. This was not going as he expected, and the outcome was assuredly not going to be the one he wanted. He needed to get out of here, and consider a new approach.
Apparating away in full view of Dursley would reveal himself as a wizard. That would cost him access to the muggle anti-magic movement. Of course, that might not matter, if this debacle meant the end of the movement. However, at this point, Cornelius wasn't sure about that, or what direction his next effort would take. His goal remained to resume unchallenged leadership of the wizarding world. Best to keep all options open, until new plans could be drawn up.
"Come along, Dursley," he barked. "We'll be able to get across the field now. We'll collect the two across the way, and head up to the main base. It's too unruly out there, and we'll all be safer behind the action."
Cornelius got Vernon pointed toward the base across the way, and pushed him forward. He would let Vernon go on and assume the fool would do as he just suggested. He planned to apparate away, as soon as he was sure that Vernon was looking elsewhere.
There were other combatants preparing to join the battle, however. No one, on either side, was aware of them. Unseen, beneath the ground, this battle was being monitored by several Black Wyrms. The Wyrms had been keeping an eye on Hogwarts, and the Vikings from their homeland, for quite a while now.
The Wyrm Elders respected the young king for ridding their land of Shadows. They had listened to the report of the young Wyrms who had met the young king in the tunnels. They allowed those young Wyrms to spend time in the land where the young man lived. He had told the Wyrms that he expected war, and hoped they would be his allies. If they were to help him, they needed to be close at hand. It had proven to be a rather dull watch, until very recently.
The arrival of so many of the non-magic land-dwellers in the vicinity was noted immediately. Then there was all that movement in the land-dwellers' tunnels. The Wyrms had noticed the tunnels long before, but had never seen but one or two land-dwellers using them at a time. Today there was an absolute flood of them going in both directions. And the Vikings were all going away from the king's home. It felt like they were carrying their big weapons, too.
One of the Wyrms in the ground beneath Hogwarts quickly entered the ley lines back to the Winter Lands, and returned with several other Wyrms moments later. They weren't entirely sure what was going on, but were watching events carefully. The Vikings were the young king's allies, and the others in the town with magic had also come out from the castle. The Wyrms noticed that there were magical signatures from some land-dwellers scattered along the edges of the field where all the non-magical land-dwellers had assembled who had not come from out of the castle. They were watching those.
The Wyrms noticed that the young king and several others, including one who had been with the young king in the Winter Lands, flew out from their home, but it was just a quick flight around the field where all the non-magical land-dwellers had assembled. They were starting to head back to their home in the castle when something happened.
The Wyrms were mobilized to act when the non-magical land-dwellers killed one with a magical signature. To the Wyrms, the death of Adney "Riddle" meant that the non-magical land-dwellers were attacking those defending their ally, the young king. The Wyrms moved closer to the surface of the earth, and prepared to strike.
Vernon was just a few steps away into the melee, when he stumbled a bit on some uneven earth, and he reached back for Charles to steady himself. At that very moment, the first Wyrm to breach the land pushed out, its maw gaping open. Vernon saw blackness lurch up to surround him, and when he found Charles' arm, he instinctively grabbed even more firmly. At that very moment, Charles tried to apparate away from the battle.
Vernon was swallowed whole. Charles was splinched, his upper half swallowed by the Wyrm along with Vernon, and the rest of him landing in a bloody mess somewhere in the English Channel between Scotland and Abbeville.
The Wyrms then took solid form on the snowy field. They kept clear of the Vikings, whom they recognized as allies, but found ample land-dwellers clustered in the middle of the field. They circled and bobbed, preparing to devour the land-dwellers who were attacking the young king's men.
The muggles were horrified at this menacing blackness – those could not be creatures, could they? – that had just appeared in their midst. All those in the area near the things began running away in terror.
Sir Harold and the Brigadier stood in stunned silence atop their small hill, slightly removed from the action. Their glorious battle against magic was a disaster.
The trebuchets had turned into a weapon against their own forces. After a few early salvos that did not seem to inflict any damage at all on the village, they just launched drunken collegians, who usually hurt themselves and others in their landings. The archers could hardly get their arrows into the air, let alone with enough force to carry any distance or inflict any damage upon arrival, and some of them didn't even think to stop shooting when their fellows had pressed forward ahead of them. Finally, the Vikings had proved to be far too accomplished swordsmen. Many of the men and women who had pressed forward to challenge them in direct combat had been cut down. The Brigadier had continually monitored action through his field glasses, and was puzzled also by some large blackness that had settled into the middle of the field, and seemed to be wreaking its own havoc. Out of caution, he took Sir Harold firmly by the arm and hustled him off to the first troop carrier. Leaving most of their troops behind, they hastily quit the field.
Albus Dumbledore had led his team of six down to the edge of the wards around the castle grounds while the muggles were still coming onto the field. As soon as Albus saw the battle begin, he herded his group outside the wards and they took to their brooms. They kept out of sight of the muggles, flying low behind trees and in the dales between the low hills. Working in teams of two, they rapidly cast memory charms linked to the land all around the edges of the fields. On their way back, they flew along the small woods that lined the area, assuming retreating muggles might seek shelter there on their way.
As Harry and Severus were speeding back to Hogwarts, Severus nearly collided with Harry when he very suddenly skidded his broom in a fast turn. Not as accomplished a flyer, Severus made a looping turn and flew back to stop alongside Harry in the air. The scolding reminders of his promise not to engage at all in this battle were on the tip of his tongue, but Severus refrained from speaking them when he saw the strange look on Harry's face.
Not entirely sure what was wrong, Severus came closer to Harry and took his arm in his hand. "Are you unwell, Harry? I can carry you back on my broom. Come, let's land."
Harry's trance seemed broken by Severus' voice. He shook his head, but let his broom drop to the ground. Severus looked around the area quickly; luckily, they were behind some trees here, so no muggles could see them.
Once his feet touched the land, Harry dropped his broom and with his wand in his hand, quickly sought out the nearest ley line. Recalling how he had entered those lines once before, he cautiously pushed his mind into it, just a bit.
He was sure he'd heard Paresltongue. He knew Severus would object if he tried to get a look at the battle, but from somewhere in that direction, he was sure he'd heard it. It didn't sound like Voldemort at all; his voice was unique. It actually sounded like several voices were speaking in Parseltongue. He had immediately thought of the Wyrms.
"Dragons of the Winter Lands – can you hear me?" his mind called cautiously as he stood stock still on the land. Severus watched him nervously, but stood aside, not knowing what was happening, but aware that the young man was safe where he was now staring silently at the ground.
For their part, the Wyrms heard Harry instantly. They had been snapping at the horrified muggles, but reluctant to bite more than the first few they'd attacked. They'd noticed immediately that these non-magical land-dwelling creatures seemed to pose no threat, and they even seemed incapable of effective retreat. It was their discussion about what to do next that Harry had overheard, and when they heard his voice, the four Black Wyrms melted back into the soil from which they had sprung, and they hurried off to talk to Harry.
"Yes, young king, we hear you," the leader of the small group of Wyrms answered as they entered the ley lines, and seconds later, they saw him, or at least his mind. "We have been here all along, awaiting your summons. When we saw the non-magical land dwellers attack the magical beings who defend you, we knew that your war had begun. We joined in to defend you, as you had once asked of us."
Harry felt a jolt of dismay at that. Muggles were no match for wizards, but for Merlin's sake, these were dragons!
Before he could say anything, the leader of the Wyrm group continued. "Those non-magical land dwellers were helpless before us. We did kill a few of them before we realized that they actually pose no threat. We were not sure what to do when we heard your voice."
Harry took a centering breath, which relieved Severus, watching his physical body, unaware that Harry's consciousness was elsewhere.
"I appreciate your help," Harry began. "And I am very proud that you are willing to assist me in the war. But, as you realized, this is not the battle for you. The creatures who were attacking the Winter Lands Warriors have no magic, and were no match even for the Warriors who were not using magic themselves. I hope that you will remain watchful, because the war is only just starting, and the next battle will likely be one where I will need your help, where you will make a huge difference in the outcome of the battle. But let the muggles, the non-magical land dwellers, retreat in peace. They've lost the day, and they really do pose no threat to me, or to you. Stay here in the ground, and be ready for the next battle."
The four Wyrms bowed their heads to Harry, and dropped deeper into the ley lines, to resume their silent vigil beneath Hogwarts. Harry pushed right back into his body. He opened his eyes, and blinked.
Unfortunately, the first thing he saw was the murderously angry face of his bondmate.
Another centering breath, and a small smile, prepared Harry to speak before what seemed like quite a tirade could begin.
"I heard Parseltongue being spoken. Not one voice," he added quickly, sure that Severus' first thought would be that he'd heard Voldemort. "It was several voices, for sure, and it sounded like the Black Wyrms. I needed to go into the ley lines, not far, just a little bit, and call to them there. There were four Wyrms. They are apparently keeping watch over us from beneath the land, and when they saw this battle begin, they felt this was the war in which I had asked them to be my allies."
Severus cast a very nervous and uneasy glance at the ground beneath them.
"They had already realized the muggles were no match for anyone with magic," Harry went on, "and it seemed they weren't sure if they should continue. That's the conversation I overheard. They are gone from the battle now, back into the ground. I told them the next battle was going to be the one in which I really needed their help, where they'd really make a difference."
Severus noticed that Harry still looked crestfallen. "Then why the glum face?" he asked.
"The Wyrms said that they did kill a few muggles before they realized how defenseless they were," Harry admitted with a shudder. The death toll grew.
"Those muggles were not innocent, Harry," Severus lectured. "They were on that field with weapons that they intended to use, and they meant you, us, harm. It was not an even battle, and I am glad that the Wyrms have quit the field, but the muggles were there as combatants. You cannot regard them as people you should have saved. Come, back on the brooms before we are seen."
His mind agreeing with Severus' words but his heart still not sure, Harry summoned his broom with a wave of his hand. He hopped on and followed Severus back through the wards and into the protections of the castle.
The battle was completely over well within an hour, with the muggles in full retreat. As the troop carriers that had brought some of them had departed half-empty, many muggle combatants had a long walk ahead back to Sir Harold's estate or wherever they left cars and camping gear.
Funny, but none of them remembered why they were there to start with.
The Winter Lands Warriors had backed off as soon as the muggles were on the run, and stood protectively in front of the roads into Hogsmeade watching the retreat. Back in Hogsmeade, the aurors complemented themselves on an earlier decision to refrain from casting memory charms, when it seemed the muggles would not get into the town. Had they done that, they'd now have to set to removing them before they could leave.
When the last muggle had run from the field, the aurors and the Viking set off for the Three Broomsticks. Rosemerta, the only Hogsmeader who had remained in the town after it was evacuated, was already pouring glasses of her finest mead for the victory celebration.