UNTIL DAWN
Ron slammed Harry's shoulder warmly when he was done speaking.
- "And Colonel Potter forgot to tell you he's already faced lots of dragons - and always made it out alive! A Norbert Ridgeback, a Hungarian Horntail, Gringotts' warder and his stepmother!"
A roar of laughter shook the ranks.
- "Let me tell you tonight will be a simple waltz for him!"
- "Lieutenant! What's a "Norbert"? Never heard of it!" sniggered someone.
- "Consider yourself lucky to be too old to have had Hagrid as a professor at Hogwarts!" Ron shouted cheerfully.
Hermione articulated the words "Norwegian-when-are-you-going-to-stop-being-an-idiot" in front of him, frowning, but there was an amused twinkle in her brown eyes.
- "You all know what you have to do, so there's no need for chit-chat", concluded Ron, resuming to a more serious face. "To your posts, wands ready. We meet at dawn!"
- "Until dawn!" shouted the Aurors in a clamor, before dispersing, swift and effective.
Hermione went to Harry who was giving a last glance to the mountain in the growing darkness.
- "Don't worry", she whispered, putting her hand on his arm. "They will be safe there."
She did not add that she envied him because he had been able to hug his son while she did not know if she would ever again see her own children, because she understood and shared his fears: what if that night, all ended? What if MacFusty would rise victorious in the morning... what would happen to Albus?
- "They can't know about him", Harry said through clenched teeth. "Never. We won't let them win."
Hermione quickly nodded. She turned round, leaned back to back with Harry. They raised their wands to the sky in which the night was pooling like ink spilled in water.
Protego maxima.
Fianto Duri.
Repello Inimicum.
Hermione's eyes welled up with tears, like every night since the beginning of the week as she chanted the spells which had protected their small tent for almost a year, and which the teachers had casted over the school before the Great Battle of Hogwarts.
Protego maxima.
Fianto Duri.
Repello Inimicum.
Unspeakable sadness clutched Harry's heart as he spoke the familiar words, giving way to the same rage that had driven his seventeen years old self.
They were going to live. They were going to see an end to this nightmare and rebuild the world, and never would their children have to fight.
The first star kindled in the dark sky and the hills suddenly blazed up.
oOoOoOo
He was at home, curled up under the duvet in his boat-shaped bed. It was hot. It must have been summer, because he could hear water splashing and hollering that owed to be James running after Lily. It was so hot and...
The bed was rocking.
"Albus. ALBUS!"
The imperious voice roused him.
It was dark.
But still incredibly hot.
"Albus Severus Potter, open your eyes!"
He obeyed - it was harder to do than to say though.
Suddenly his blurred sight adjusted to the fiery night. Spells were bouncing and fizzing, green and blue, and the racket was awful. Smoke stung his nostrils and he spurred to the sky to escape from this nightmare.
"Come back."
His heart was pounding so hard that his wings were struggling to build on the current to take him away from the infernal uproar.
"Go back, Al. They need you."
He tried to resist, but his body refused to listen to him. Some mist licked his nose and he found himself gliding in circles above the battle.
"What am I doing here? This isn't what Dad ..."
"This is your place, Albus. Look. They will die if you don't help them. You must act on, little one. You have to be strong. You have to attack the Anghenfil if you want this war to end."
Albus choked. The dragon's tail was furiously beating the air as if to scatter off the stars.
"I can't. I'm not... I'm just..."
"A child? Yes, you are, little one. But this is your destiny. Go, you can save them all."
The night was wailing, flames were crackling over the sea and something huge, black and powerful, was spreading its wings over the ridge. It had a long neck in armor, topped with steel horns, and fury was burning in its opalescent eyes.
"You need to attack him, Albus. You have to kill him to end its hold over the men and over his kin."
"NO! You – you can to do it. You're a dragon! Don't make me do that! I... I don't want to be you, I don't want to become... like him."
He was cold now.
He felt betrayed, dirty, abandoned.
His mother had begged the escort who had come to Hogwarts to take them to the train station: "he's only a child, you don't have the right to do this. Al, tell them you don't want to go. Show them you can't morph!"
But he had done it, because his father had nodded sadly, as if hiding would have served no purpose, and his mother had paled and started to cry.
Now Albus wanted to nestle in his mother's arms, like before, like when no one asked him to be a man.
"I didn't choose!"
"Yes. You did. When our hearts became one that day, you did, Albus. It was you who woke me up in the gallery and it was you who had called me in the grove of snow-covered trees. This is your will."
"Why? Why would I want that? I never wanted to be different!"
"But you wanted to be strong. You wanted to protect the ones you love. You were ready to give everything for them. From the beginning. And until the end."
Sparks were twirling up to the stars and the battle's echoes seemed distant, muffled. The dragon whirled, as if to observe what was happening down below.
"From the beginning.
And until the end."
The night breeze ruffled his silky black fur.
A little boy was trudging in the snow, wet and shivering, hurrying to the grove of trees where he had left his plush toy.
A man in a large black cloak was barging into a child's bedroom and raising his wand dreadfully.
A hand was dangling a pair of round glasses above his crib and he could hear a giggle full of tenderness and emotion, a voice that filled him with trust and happiness almost impossible to fathom.
Albus was no longer struggling. The peace that was now coming over him was like a caress.
He smiled and his golden-split emerald eyes closed gratefully.
"I remember your name now."
"I was waiting for you."
He spread out his wings and dived into the battlefield.
oOoOoOo
Terrence was running down the slope, his wand in his hand, jerking up his glasses on his nose. Wendy was ahead of him, to the right, and the flames gnawing at the mountain were casting red highlights in her long brown hair tied in a ponytail. Scorpius was running behind, on the left, an arm protecting his perspiring forehead.
They did not know which one of the three of them had jumped first in pursuit of the dragon.
Colchis was following closely, his tall and massive silhouette jumping from rock to rock with flexibility, gaining ground. Lizzie had remained in the cave with Teddy and had finally stopped calling after them in vain.
The teenagers reached the plain before being caught up by the Auror and the battle suddenly flared in front of them. The ground was cracked open, fire was crackling in the trees and the tumult of voices suddenly filled their ears like the roar of a waterfall.
They had no time to think whether to take cover or run boldly in the middle of the field. The shouting, the heat of the flames, the crunching noises of spells exploding on all sides, the choking smoke, the adrenaline gushing in their veins and making them a bit dizzy – everything was blurry and exhilarating.
There were men dressed in horrible helmets shining in the glow of the fire and they were almost in melee with the Aurors whose faces were glistening with sweat.
But no dragon. Nowhere.
A blue lightning grazed Terrence's temple, and something banged near him. He dived behind a rock and scratched his hands and elbows, but did not let go of his wand.
Expelliarmus. Expelliarmus. Expelliarmus.
Everything will be fine as I long as I remember this spell.
Something shook the ground and Terrence stepped back against the cold granite, feeling his leather armor scraping against the ruggedness.
He leaned to take a look beyond the rock and Wendy bumped against him suddenly, sending them both rolling in the muddy hollow.
- "What's that spell that reduces everything to pieces?" she gasped, straightening up. She had grass in her hair and blackish marks on her cheeks. "I should have listened better in class. I need to blow them up if I want to go through... have you seen Al?"
They scrutinized the dark sky above the flames – but there was no one to see.
- "And Scorpius?"
- "I lost him on the way", managed to stammer Terrence. "Er... reducto. The spell. Reducto, that's the one."
- "Thanks", Wendy muttered, and she slipped out of the rock's protection, bowing her head.
The sound of her running steps disappeared into the battlefield din, then Terrence heard something metallic explode and assumed she had been talking about the ships' dump.
His eyes sought Scorpius but did not spot him. Instead he saw the body of an Auror who was spinning on himself before crashing like a disjointed puppet. Another spell blasted against the rock and sparks showered him. He barely felt the burns, busy trying to find a way to advance to the sea.
Why did you leave the cave, Al? What did you feel? Did they call you? Are they controlling you? And where the hell are you now?
A roar swept over the battle, so strong he felt as if his eardrums were going to be torn. A cold sweat trickled between his shoulder blades, to the bottom of his back.
What was that? Merlin's beard, what was that?
A shadow covered the rock, and he cowered down, glancing despite his fear in between his folded arms.
A gaping maw was towering him, dribbling its foul breath over the camp. He saw giant fangs, almost as big as him, but it was not the scariest thing. The beast's walking was shaking the ground. It raised its head and its long neck caparisoned with metal. Its oval eyes had no irises, as if they were only filled with hot red liquid. It was searching the surrounding area, unaffected by the spells ricocheting on its black scales.
Terrence felt his legs wobble.
The dragon.
The dragon from my childhood, from the tales' book, the Boggart, my nightmare...
The Anghenfil.
He put his hands over his mouth to stifle a cry of terror and realised he had stopped breathing.
The beast sniffed at the air, then moved to the left. Pebbles bounced slightly near Terrence's foot. Black spots were dancing before his eyes and the din of battle was fading away.
- "Terrence!" barked a nearby voice, and somebody clutched his shoulder. "Get out of here! NOW!"
He staggered, close to faint. The dragon's back was becoming increasingly blurred...
- "SWANSON! Aguamenti!"
Icy water jumped at his face and he startled awake. He was sheltered under a ripped tent pan hung on a pillar from which hung striped eels. Scorpius was in front of him, looking furious. He had a bleeding gash on his brow and a burst lip.
- "Wake up, you dolt!" He fumed. "Wendy is almost inside. Go help her!"
Terrence blinked, his dripping hair already almost dry in the furnace of battle.
- "Inside what?" he stammered.
- "The camp, nitwit! Come on, hurry up! What are you, a genius or an oyster? GO!"
Scorpius swung him to the right direction and fiercely hurled him forward, then threw himself back into the melee, as if it was natural for him to cast combat spells without slowing down to breathe.
Maybe he learnt to duel...
Maybe I should take some lessons too...
Terrence's brain felt foggy as his feet wadded painfully toward the big transparent bubble.
He stopped behind an upturned yacht and peered again at the sky. His eyes were stinging, red-rimmed because of the smoke. He was struggling to keep his eyelids open, felt like if he'd rubbed them, they would tear off like old paper.
- "Terrence!" someone yelled and he avoided just in time the curse that crashed into the yacht.
Without thinking, he jumped aside, casting a spontaneous Expelliarmus without looking back. There was a loud crack and a cry of pain, then someone grabbed his shoulders.
- "Well done!"
It was Albus' father and Terence felt a whiff of intoxicating joy fill him up when he met the proud gaze of the man, as if it were his own father congratulating him.
For a moment only, then the green eyes behind the glasses turned hard, a mixture of fear and anger.
- "What are you doing here? Why aren't you with the others?"
They crouched together to avoid another blast.
- "Al b-became a d-d-dragon and he flew off", Terrence stuttered, with the horrible feeling that this was his fault and he should have taken better care of his friend.
Harry instinctively looked up, scanning the smoke-filled night.
- "I don't see him", he panted.
- "I'll find him", blurted Terrence whose heart had somehow calmed down a bit. "I promise."
Harry hesitated, then nodded.
- "Okay."
The trust in his voice made Terrence wonder if he had become a man, right now, on this battlefield.
Harry straightened up, waved his wand and with no audible word, drilled lightning around them. He darted to the left and disappeared into the curtain of flames and shadows. Four or five men with grimacing masks followed him immediately, jumping over the remains of incandescent boats.
Terrence carefully looked around before rushing to the magical bubble protecting the camp. He stumbled on a corpse, glimpsed at two staring open eyes which made his hair stand up. He tried to forget them, his hands clutching his wand, looking everywhere.
Oh please, let Wendy be okay...
And Scorpius...
And the others…
He gasped, feeling bile rising in his mouth at the thought that maybe...
- "Terrence! This way!"
Wendy was waving at him. He ran to her, fell flat belly next to her under the mossy rock where she was hiding.
- "I need a broom!" she whispered, pointing at the intact tents inside the magical bubble.
You're alive...
He breathed in deeply, trying to ease his ribcage that rattled against the ground as if his heart was trying to escape.
- "I need to fly, d'you understand, Terri?" vehemently implored the girl. "I can't beat them from the ground, I'm too clumsy. Please... help me..."
Terrence had somehow managed to regain control of his frayed nerves. He took off his glasses and wiped them on a miraculously still clean corner of his sleeve. They were smeared with brimstone and mud blobs.
He pointed his wand at the magical bubble.
- "Accio broom."
- "I tried that already", Wendy winced.
He noticed she wasn't holding her wand, but a large piece of wood with a nail at the extremity.
- "What have you done with your w..."
- "In my pocket", interrupted the girl. "I prefer a good bat. D'you think the barrier prevents them from coming out?"
Her gray eyes were sparkling in the glow of the flames casting shadows on her face, sculpting her delicate features like those of a woman.
- "Terrence, we need to help him. He wasn't in his normal state. Do you think they're controlling him? Charlie Weasley said the other dragons were obeying to the aphalune..."
- "The Anghenfil", Terrence corrected absent-mindedly. He fumbled in the dark, found Wendy's hand and squeezed it. "Don't worry. Al's stronger than that."
Saying it aloud helped him to convince himself.
He's half human. He shouldn't...
Why was his ear bleeding? Is…
An irate caterwaul cut in the course of his thoughts, bristling a chill on his neck.
- "It's him!" Wendy giggled as if she was delirious.
And suddenly they saw him.
Looming in the maelstrom of smoke, flames, spells bursting in bright colors – diving into the tumult of cries of pain and menacing shrieks, his fangs bared and his wings spread open, his emerald eyes reduced to the thin golden split.
The furry dragon brushed the ground, spewing a wisp of blue ice that blasted off a ship, then spurred into the sky before twisting on himself and returning at full speed toward the fighters.
The stupor that had gripped everyone cleared and a squall of curses gusted towards the dragon. He easily dodged it, swirled gracefully, came back growling with fury.
His spade-shaped tail was sweeping behind him, knocking off debris of rocks, and his wings were billowing like black sails. He was dangerously close to the ground then the next second like a comet across the night sky, evaporating into the smoke like an invisible threat.
- "They're confused", said Wendy excitedly. "Look, it's a mess! The Aurors are regaining grounds!"
Terrence wondered what grounds, since MacFusty's supporters did not seem interested in the bubble that protected the camp.
From scraps they had heard, they knew the Aurors were only trying to get hold of the rebel leader. They were not taking prisoners.
- "Where're the dragons?" Wendy suddenly asked worriedly. "Al's giving them a trashing, but..."
As if in response, the horned head of the steel caparisoned dragon reappeared on the ridge, followed by another figure scarcely less monstrous. They set their horrible red eyes on the black fur dragon.
Wendy sat up so suddenly that her head hit the stone ledge of their refuge.
- "AL! Ouch!"
She squinted, rubbing the painful spot, close to tears.
- "That must've hurt", sighed Terrence who thought himself horrible for having found it comical. "You okay?"
- "M'fine", Wendy groaned.
She crawled out from under the rock to run again in the battle's direction, her made-up bat whooping above her head, bellowing with all the strength of her lungs.
- "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE YOU MORONS!"
It looked like she was taking assault upon the opposing team after a Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Wendy was a notorious bad loser.
- "Here!" shouted someone.
Terrence rushed behind Wendy and managed to grab her by the waist and to roll to the ground with her. Several spells exploded above them, like fireworks. A nail in a wood beam slashed his cheek, his knee slammed into something hard and white hot pain flared up in his head.
Shadows with grimacing masks closed up on him, he glimpsed huge black wings unfurling in the furnace, then he lost consciousness.
oOoOoOo
When he opened his eyes painfully, he was still lying on the muddy ground in the open grass field. He felt chilled to the bone, to the point the pain in his knee seemed distant, numb.
The sky above him was white and the last stars were dying away.
It was dawn.
He pushed on his elbows to sit up, shook his head to clear his confused thoughts. Everything was quiet, except for the hiss of embers dissolving in the mist and the plaintive cry of a gull flying over his head.
He was alone.
Ah. No, someone was coming over.
A man with a long dark cloak, who was carrying something in his arms.
He was carrying a teenager whose arms and legs were dangling limply, as if he was asleep.
Or dead.
TBC
Next chapter: DON'T THEY REMIND YOU OF SOMEONE, RON?