12:00, Saturday, April 15th, 1995
Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley walked up through the castle from the library. They'd been informed by Dumbledore a few hours ago to see Fleur off in his office. They'd dawdled with their notes. Preparing for the third task, which they now knew contained a maze.
They'd been briefed on the subject by Ludo Bagman and an incredibly tired-looking Barty Crouch. Apparently, the maze would feature many dark creatures and mysterious spells.
Well, Harry and Ginny had taken that as a fair reason to make as many of those 'mysterious' spells, as Ginny said: 'less sterious'. Which was something Harry found endlessly amusing.
They hadn't spoken of anything too serious recently. The disappearance of her brothers was weighing heavily on Ginny. No matter how many times Harry would throw her a smile, or simply perform a nice gesture, it only cheered her for a moment. Then, she'd go back to biting both of her cheeks and looking rather grim.
Currently, she appeared to be brooding. Harry dared not ask why, so he decided to bring something up that was loosely related to what she was likely thinking about.
"Don't you find it odd how Percy just… up and quit his job, scourging mainland France for three months? I mean… hasn't he always wanted to work for the Ministry?"
Ginny's frown lightened somewhat. They were approaching the stone gargoyle, protector of Dumbledore's office. "At first glance, I'd say it is weird…" she muttered the password to the gargoyle and climbed onto the bottom step next to Harry. "But when you really take the time to think about it… I'd say you'll find it isn't strange at all,"
Harry smiled slightly. "And what makes you think that?" he asked pleasantly. They stood in front of the door to Dumbledore's office.
Ginny turned to him, her hair moving enough to spread that flowery scent around the small space. "Percy has always loved Charlie. He's his favourite brother… besides, I think Percy's always wanted to go on adventures with Bill and Charlie. However much he denies it," she raised her fist to knock on the door and hesitated. "I'm proud of him, actually. For choosing family over his ambition,"
Ginny knocked three times quite clearly. The door swung inwards, and Ginny stepped inside, followed by Harry.
Fleur stood in the center of the office. She wore clothing that Harry had never expected to see on her. It was… casual. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail similar to that of what she'd worn for the first task. An old, saggy Quaffle sat at her feet. She was staring at it appraisingly. She hadn't appeared to notice Harry and Ginny's arrival.
Behind her was her sister, and two adults Harry assumed must be her parents. Her father was… well he must have a wicked personality because Harry found him incredibly unattractive.
Finally, there stood Dumbledore, the twins, Ron, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They were holding each other and watching Fleur.
Ginny cleared her throat and everyone's attention turned to them. It was then that Harry noticed the clump of photographs in Fleur's grip. Presumably Bill, Percy, and Charlie.
"Good," said Dumbledore softly. "We're ready."
The Quaffle began to glow blue slightly as Dumbledore tapped it with the tip of his wand. "Now, remember, Miss Delacour, the second your boots touch the ground, your mission is active. Do you understand?"
Fleur nodded stiffly.
"This Quaffle is your way in and out. You must keep it on your person at all times."
Fleur nodded once again, picking up a small rucksack that had been obscured by her legs earlier. She hoisted it over her shoulders and looked down at the Quaffle, which was beginning to spin.
"Please… bring them home," Mrs. Weasley whispered tearfully. Fleur bent down and snatched the Quaffle up off the floor, gripping it tightly. She nodded to Mrs. Weasley. Her face appeared to be a contorted mask of stress, anxiety, determination, and fear. Harry had distanced himself enough from her not to feel her veela magic, and before he knew it, she was gone.
He heard Mrs. Weasley sniffle in the quiet that lapsed after Fleur left.
It was all in her hands now.
Regretfully Uncaring
Chapter 26: The Battle of Nurmengard Castle
Part Three: Septimus
Fleur landed hard on a grassy slope. She was surrounded by tall, impressive mountains. The valley was suspiciously sparse of trees. She immediately felt as though that was a poor beginning of her trek. She'd need cover, and judging by her surroundings, she wouldn't receive many.
The air smelled of pine and flowers, even though neither of these elements were present. Ahead of her was the first face of the mountain Nurmengard was built upon. It was essentially a jagged cliff that rose straight up. The cliff would plateau somewhat, (this was where Nurmengard was built) before it continued its ascent to becoming a peak.
Fleur shouldered her bag off and unzipped the main pouch. She took the Quaffle portkey, which had a password for reactivation, and stuffed it deep within the bag. She hauled it over her back once more, adjusted the straps carefully, and began to walk towards the face.
There was a cloud obscuring where Nurmengard should be. The sun was high in the sky, casting no shadows in the valley. She walked in silence, occasionally humming one of her father's favourite muggle songs to herself.
Her wand was strapped to her thigh, and though she knew she wouldn't be able to use it the second she had passed through Greyback's wards, it was still reassuring to feel it there. The slight discomfort it brought was a small price to pay for a semblance of safety.
It was an hour into her walk when she first noticed the air had changed. It smelled of sulfur and decay. There was a buzzing in her ears and something deep within her was being shaken awake.
"The wards," she thought to herself. Glancing around her line of sight, she tried to see any sign of a wardstone. It took a moment, but eventually, she noticed one of them. It was tall and sculpted beautifully. It seemed to be of Chinese origin, judging by the style and size of the stone. The Chinese were known for their wardstones. The Egyptians came close, but they preferred traditional runic protective enchantments over manually activated stones.
There was a tent outside of it, with a fire lit at the entrance flap. Fleur was probably a hundred meters away from the tent, so she knew that logically she may not have been seen, but her silvery-white hair and tall figure were not easy to hide.
As far as she was aware, she wasn't in the ward bubble yet. So she pulled her wand from its holster and slowly raised it to her head, tapping a disillusionment charm. She sighed in relief as its odd sensation spread throughout her body. She'd always been weak with charms. Her gifts resided in transfiguration and runes. She aspired to be a curse-breaker someday, but Paris wasn't offering the position to witches at the moment thanks to a lack of male representation.
"Ta connerie, oui," she thought irritably. If they were too lazy to work for what they wished to achieve, who gave a damn about their representation? There were plenty of male curse-breakers all over the world. It was not her fault that France chose differently.
Shaking her thoughts away, she continued her trek. She knew the disillusionment charm was likely to ripple and fluctuate due to her movement, but in the bright spring light, she wasn't too concerned. If someone from that tent one-hundred meters away decided to look in her direction, they'd see an odd ripple in the light, but would likely pass it off as a fluctuation in the wards.
She knew when she hit the barrier because it felt as though something had wrapped around her stomach. Like a corset, actually. It felt like her blood was on fire, and her mind was being prodded by a legilimens, but eventually, they let her pass. She collapsed to her knees and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. For a moment, she wasn't sure whether or not she'd make it. If it hadn't been the full moon tonight, in turn weakening the wards, she probably wouldn't have made it through. Her quarter veela blood wouldn't have been enough.
The breeze picked up and she shivered slightly. The atmosphere within the dome was entirely different. It smelled of ozone. Like a coming storm. Still on her hands and knees, she looked up at the mountain face.
The cloud cover had cleared, and she could see Nurmengard standing proud over the valley. It was truly magnificent. Its solitary tower attached to its castle counterpart rose high into the sky. A flag was raised to half-mast atop its prismed roof. It was black with a white triangular eye in the center. Grindelwald's mark was well known in France. Fleur would recognize it anywhere.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Grindelwald would be in there. Yes, Percy, Charlie, and the Bill Weasley, who was famous in curse-breaking tabloids, were who she was sent to rescue, but Grindelwald would still be there. Her Grandmaman told her horror stories of the Continental War. It was not something she'd ever have expected to face.
She exhaled long and steadily, dispelling any negative thoughts and 'what ifs'. She removed her hands from the grass and leaned back on her knees. Instantly, a stinging pain ran up from her palms and through her nervous system, causing her to jolt slightly. She turned her palms towards herself and let out a quiet gasp. They were bleeding. Her hands had multiple tiny cuts and scratches on them. One of the cuts was quite deep, and its cause was plainly visible.
Glass.
There was a large glass shard embedded into her left hand. It went excruciatingly deep. How she hadn't noticed when she'd first landed on the shard, she did not know. All she knew now was that her left hand was damaged beyond her healing repair. Her hands started to shake and she fuddled with the clasp on her wand holster. Finally, she undid it and extracted her wand. Her right hand was not shaking nearly as violently as her left, which was bleeding profusely by this point.
It also didn't help that her hand was disillusioned. All she could see was a floating red blotch where her hand was supposed to be. The glass appeared to be sticking out of thin air.
She bit down on her wand and reached for the glass shard. She counted to three in her head before wrenching it out of her palm. It was fast, hot pain. When the bloodied shard was free of her hand, the air blew against the open cut and made it all so much worse.
She removed her wand from her teeth and waved it delicately over her left palm. The disillusionment charm was fading, and she resisted the urge to cry. Everything had already gone awry. Who was she to accept such a mission without any semblance of a plan? The cuts were refusing to heal.
Thunder crackled through the valley, and she looked up pleadingly. No rain came yet, but the smell was apparent. She was still close enough to the edge of the wards to know that this storm was manufactured.
Greyback was causing it, or at least, his wards were. What for, she did not know. At this moment, she just needed to remember basic stitching charms.
But then it hit her. She couldn't use her wand any longer. She was officially within the wards, and her disillusionment charm had completely vanished. She was entirely visible once more. She felt a large droplet of rain splatter against her forehead. The gentle pitter-patter sped up as rain began to pour down without mercy. She rose to her feet shakily and turned to the ward bubble's wall. She could re-exit and apply the healing charms, or bite the spell and deal with the wound. Time was of the essence. The full moon would be arriving sooner rather than later.
Breathing hard, she focused on her surroundings. The grassy field leading up to the cliff was smothered in glass shards. They must have come from somewhere, surely. Raising her eyes to settle back on Nurmengard, she groaned. The glass must have come from one of the windows. Surely they hadn't thrown themselves off a cliff. Surely they had communicated with the Weasley boys better than that?
Shaking herself and biting her bottom lip close to bleeding, she strode with quickened pace to the base of the cliff.
Etched into its rocky surface was a staircase. Referring to it as a stair was quite generous, actually, seeing as the climb was near vertical. It would ascend up twenty steps, then, the climber would have to jump to the next step, which was cut into the stone directly across from the previous stair. Then they'd have to climb another twenty, and so forth. It created a stone zigzag up the cliff face and eventually led to Nurmengard's gates.
"Lisette de Lapin, venez à mon aide ce soir, je vous plais," she muttured to herself in a hushed prayer. She confidently walked toward the stairs.
She realized unfortunately quickly that she'd need to climb on all fours. Every time the cut on her palm hit the cool, rocky surface she hitched a breath. She hadn't realized how deep the cut had gone. She couldn't move her middle and index fingers, and she thought she might have severed a tendon. In reality, she knew nothing about medicine or healing, so she was making guesses at this point.
The first jumping point was a grueling task. She leapt from the top step across and nearly slipped. She forced her hands down to grip the rough edge of the stair ahead of her. Her left hand burned and grew numb the further she climbed. But she eventually got used to the jumps.
Fleur didn't consider herself out of shape, per se, but by the time she reached the sixth jump, she was incredibly tired. She could no longer feel her hand, and it had grown quite pale. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, but the pain was still excruciating.
What concerned her more than the pain, and what incidentally kept her determination strong in climbing, was the fact that she was essentially leaving behind a scent trail to be tracked if need be. Her blood littered every step, and she knew that if this valley was full of fifty to seventy werewolves, she'd need a miracle to avoid being caught. Or at the very least, noticed.
The other concern was the rain. It hadn't let up whatsoever, which wasn't uncommon but was creating an increasingly frigid environment. She'd dressed for possible rain, but this was ridiculous.
Worse yet, the rain had recently taken an angle against the cliff face. So the canopy the stairs had provided for her was now obsolete. And the steps grew slippery.
She lost balance a few times, tumbling down the steps only to narrowly avoid falling. She felt so unsteady without her wand. If she fell from these steps, she'd surely perish.
The water was coming down so hard, in fact, that it created a subtle stream down the stairs. She had to force her way through a miniature waterfall to make the last jump step. She took a deep breath, squeezing her left hand into a fist for a moment before relaxing it. She squatted down and leapt forward. Her right hand caught a firm handhold, but she couldn't get her frozen and bloodied left hand to latch onto anything. Her hand slipped and she danged with one arm. The stream of rainwater poured into her face and over her handhold. She couldn't breathe, and if she let go, she'd fall to her death.
With the last vestiges of energy she carried with her, she lifted her left arm and slammed her hand down firmly on the stone surface. She moved it around long enough to find a grip and tightened her hold.
The weight of the backpack, her frigid fingers, and the swirling breeze made it nearly impossible. But she wouldn't die to the elements like this. She heard something pop in her left arm, and it stung up to her shoulder. She cried out in pain but continued to pull herself up until finally, she got one knee over the ledge.
It was enough, she decided after hoisting her right leg up to match its partner. She turned and rested her head against the stairwell wall. She faced the open valley and watched the storm. It was beyond strange seeing the sunny clear skies beyond the dome of Greyback's wards. She closed her eyes for a moment and caught her breath. Her left hand was stinging now, but her shoulder felt distinctly out of place. She'd dislocated it twice before, but this was different. It was out. She'd have to force it back in.
She rose to her feet. Her legs didn't shake with the effort. She watched her lean muscles tense throughout her legs under her soaked trousers. She gritted her teeth and set her face into a mask of determination. With a gut-wrenching cry, she slammed her shoulder into the wall of the stairwell.
It was pain beyond description. Shooting through her system with an odd painful tingling sensation. She breathed hard. Deep breaths in, and long prolonged breaths out. She shook herself and lifted her leg to the next step. She balanced herself against the cliff face with her right hand. Step by step she climbed. It was incredibly steep, and though previously she'd been able to rely on moving up them on all fours at a considerable pace, this time she couldn't. Her left arm wouldn't hold.
She paused and turned back to the horizon. Beyond the wards, the sky was turning a light orange.
"Non!" she thought desperately. The sun was setting. The climb had taken longer than she'd expected.
Stealing herself, she continued to climb the steps. One foot at a time as fast as she dared. She nearly toppled over a few times, but her right-hand sliding up the wall kept her steady enough.
Finally, she reached the top step. She didn't take the time to admire the view or congratulate herself. No, instead she shook her hair out like a dog and ran towards what was obviously the castle entrance.
Nurmengard was surrounded by pine trees. They'd yet to lose their snow cover in the Austrian spring. Nurmegard's courtyard was also covered in slushed snow. The rain had ravaged the landscape. Water was flooding out of the forest and tumbling over the cliffs. Fleur had never seen this much water fall from the sky in her life.
She ran through the puddles of melting snow and ice. The water further sank into her clothing. She was bitterly cold, her lips turning a pale white.
The door opened at her touch without hesitation. She didn't have time to think about that much, because the relief that flooded her system as the heating charms of the castle came into effect was too much to handle.
She felt her knees weaken, and she almost gave in to the collapse her body demanded of her, but she shook herself once again and made her way to the beautifully carved ancient wooden door.
She pulled it open and stepped through. She was in a long carpeted hallway. Gold trim lined everything your eye could catch. She strode purposefully down the royal blue carpet and came into a large hall.
There were three men standing at the window. They all had red hair and their varied heights matched the descriptions she'd been given.
Grindelwald, however, was nowhere to be found.
Swallowing the lump of dread that had settled at the peak of her throat, she coughed to earn their attention.
All three of them whirled around. Percy and Charlie's expressions both instantly relaxed and Fleur realized that her veela charm must be warring with them. Her emotions were running high, at the moment, so it would explain a lot.
She did, however, notice that Bill Weasley, who she'd recognize anywhere after seeing his face in curse studies, was not affected by her charm.
Fleur quickly reigned in her veela magic as best she could, and watched as Percy and Charlie shook their heads dazedly before narrowing their eyes in concern.
"I've been sent by…" she struggled over her English and had the sudden urge to cry. She felt as though tears had likely already fallen down her face subconsciously. The climb up the steps had been grueling. "English is not my first langue," she said apologetically.
The three boys stared back at her, waiting for a response when Percy's eyes seemed to shine with recognition. "You're Fleur Delacour… the Beauxbatons Champion! What are you doing here?"
Fleur swallowed and began to shake. Her clothes were still drenched and she had no way of drying off. "I have been sent to rescue you," she explained. "Eet was 'Arry's idea… I… euhm… I am part veela?" she said questioningly. "So, I can pass through de wards,"
Bill's face lit up and Fleur felt her face heat. "That's brilliant! Who thought of that? Harry?"
"Yes… and your brozzer Ron, J'crois," she replied. Her lips began to tremble and her shivers increased. Bill reached forward and grabbed a blanket off the back of one of the sofas. He walked over to Fleur and handed it to her. She reached forward with her chilled right hand awkwardly. She was left-hand dominant and, holding anything with her right hand was always less effective. But now, she was struggling even more with her practically frozen arm.
Bill seemed to notice this because he gently threw the blanket around her shoulders. He avoided any contact with her and Fleur was grateful for that. She felt as though the wind could bowl her over at this point.
He dropped his arms and stared at her concerned. "How long… oh, never mind," he caught himself and sighed. "Do you have a plan?" he asked quietly.
Fleur nodded shakily and slowly made her way past Bill towards the other two. "We… we have to leave as soon as possible," she said, drawing strength from their stoic appearances. She could focus on her words a lot easier this way. Emboldened by those around her.
Charlie and Percy both nodded stiffly. "Do you know where this rain is coming from?" Charlie asked.
Fleur nodded. "I think it is coming from Greyback's wardstones… I passed through them earlier." She explained. "The rain is conjured by his magic… I did not know werewolves could be so powerful,"
Charlie and Percy both nodded gravely. Bill stepped from behind her and made his way to the shattered window. He looked down into the valley. "FUCK!" he shouted, startling everyone else in the room. "Come here!" he said, gesturing for the three to make their way over.
They walked across the room and peered out into the storm together.
This must have been the window that had shattered, causing the injury to her left hand. "What broke this window?" she asked hesitantly.
Charlie's expression darkened, as did Bill's. Percy just appeared crestfallen. "Grindelwald," Bil answered through gritted teeth.
"What?" Fleur replied.
"He escaped," said Percy with the aura of telling a great tale. "He fooled us, and he escaped… but that is not relevant at the moment," at Fleur's incredulous look he faltered. "At least let us get home first,"
"Look," Bill repeated, now that the conversation had concluded. They all looked out the window once again.
"Fuck," Charlie agreed with a monotone voice.
Fleur gasped at what she saw. The water was rising from the base of the valley. The constant rain seemed to have made its mark. The stairs she had so recently climbed were submerged up to the tenth jump. The cliff face was halfway submerged in Greyback's conjured ocean. "We can all swim, right?" Charlie quipped in a vane attempt to inject humour into the situation.
"Look at the sky," Percy whispered, pointing to the setting sun beyond the wards.
"SHIT SHIT SHIT!" Charlie repeated like a shouted mantra. He paced back and forth and ran his hands through his hair.
"Fleur, how is it we're getting out of here?" Bill asked rather desperately.
Fleur nodded mutely and slipped her pack off her shoulders. She unzipped the main compartment and froze.
The Quaffle was gone. "Non! Non, non…" she dug through its depths desperately. Where had it gone? What had happened to it?
"Fleur! What is it?" Percy shouted through the fog that was settling into her mind as tears began to slip out of her eyes. The portkey was gone! It must have been destroyed by the wards, or perhaps it had fallen from her bag somehow.
"The… the portkey! It is gone!" she cried, swiping at her eyes and taking deep steadying breaths.
"What happened to your hand?" Bill gulped as he knelt down to where she sat on her knees. He picked her hand up delicately and Fleur felt a shiver run up her arm that had nothing to do with the cold. "What happened?" he asked, with genuine concern in his voice.
"The glass… It nearly went through my hand," she whispered, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of her. She heard a tearing sound and whirled her head back to face him. He had torn a piece of his shirt off and was in the process of wrapping her hand. "No, don't do that," she insisted, pushing his hand away.
Bill looked up at her and sighed. "You're going to get this infected. The last thing we need is an unnecessary amputation. We haven't got any magic here, and… well," he hesitated, his eyes shooting down to her bag for a moment before darting back up to meet hers. "We haven't got an immediate way out, so we need to make sure this, A) doesn't open back up," he began to delicately wrap the fabric around her hand, "And B) doesn't get infected," he turned her numbed hand over and tied a knot over the back of her hand and patted it gently. "So now you can't hold us back," he grinned and Fleur smiled back. He pulled her to her feet by her right hand and dropped it.
He turned back to face the ever-worsening flood. "I don't know what we're supposed to do about this," he sighed and ran a hand through his long hair, which was not done up in a ponytail as it had been in the picture Fleur had. It fell about his face with a wild look about it.
"We could build a raft?" Charlie suggested out of the blue. Fleur turned to him while Bill scoffed.
"No, no he has a point," Percy interrupted whatever Bill was going to say. "Let's say that this is our last possible chance. That this is… this is quite literally a last-ditch effort… having a raft wouldn't be a terrible idea,"
Bill eyed him curiously for a moment. "We haven't got magic," he said quietly.
Charlie cracked his knuckles. "But we did build that treehouse for Ginny and Ron without magic during the summer before fifth year," he said with a roguish grin. "and we have a lot of wood," he gestured to the furniture and the few shutters that remained after Grindelwald's wandless dispel.
Bill sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, we'll build a raft… but if another plan rears its head we're taking it."
They set to work, Fleur had trouble doing anything significant with her bandaged hand, but Bill didn't seem to mind. Charlie and Percy did, however, and frequently made their opinions known non-verbally. They'd glare at her for just a moment or accidentally nudge her foot rather aggressively.
Eventually, she'd had enough and started to work to help them even with the pain. They hauled all of their viable materials out of the Hall and into the courtyard.
Building a raft proved to be incredibly difficult in the rain. Especially when it poured down so viciously. They worked for what felt and could have been, hours. It grew darker and darker, their best form of light coming in the form of the occasional lightning strike.
Suddenly, a tremendous crashing sound was heard coming from the forest. It was as though hundreds of thousands of stacks of hay were being thrown to the ground on a plastic tarp. A sound Fleur was vaguely familiar with on her father's farm. Fleur looked up at the sound. Even over the torrential downpour, it was deafening. "What the hell… what the hell is that," said Percy fearfully.
Things became clear only a moment later. Water was pouring down the slope, tearing trees down as it went. It was rushing incredibly fast and they likely only had a few seconds. "PULL THE RAFT UP ONTO THE ROOF!" Bill roared. Dragging the partially put-together wooden platform they'd tied together.
There was a narrow ladder and Bill hoisted one end of the raft up with him while Charlie pushed the other end. They, together, made sure the raft made its way onto the roof. Percy was next up. He climbed swiftly and Fleur tapped her shoe against the cobblestone courtyard impatiently. She knew her veela magic was likely on overdrive, but she couldn't be bothered to focus it back within herself.
"FLEUR! CLIMB!" she heard Bill scream impatiently. The roaring of the water rushing towards her was growing painful against her eardrums.
She turned her head as she made her way to the ladder. She could see the water now. She could feel the ground beneath her vibrate as the trees were uprooted and cast aside like nature's playthings.
She quickened her pace and jumped at the ladder. She landed on the fourth rung and began to climb. The makeshift bandage on Fleur's hand was keeping her from completely wrapping her hand around each rung. She reached up to grab the next rung when the ladder was pushed out from under her. The water had reached Nurmengard. Hundreds of uprooted trees crashed into the stone walls with thunderous cracks. She felt the weightless sensation of falling take her as her left arm reached up to the heavens. The rails of the ladder pushed her foot and she toppled to the left. Her body was falling. The world moved in slow motion and she felt a firm grip grasp her forearm.
She hung there, dangling. Her feet had touched the water for but a moment. She looked up and saw Charlie's tensed bicep. His face was set in a grimace. He let out a cry of desperation as he hoisted her up with his right arm. She felt someone else's arms, presumably Bill's, wrap around her waist and hoist her to the roof safely.
"Fucking hell, Delacour," Charlie wheezed. "I'm a father in the making, you know… I'm not what I used to be,"
Fleur laughed lightly before her face fell back into a frown. "The water…" she said, pointing down to where she would have died.
Hundreds of trees had crashed against the castle's walls. Its solitary tower seemed unaffected by it, but the roof they stood upon felt as though it was moving.
"We need to get higher," said Percy logically. "We don't know how much longer the hall will hold,"
Bill and Charlie nodded. Fleur shot Percy a brief smile in acknowledgment and helped them carry the now half-sized raft further up the roof. There was no hope in them climbing the tower.
Suddenly, Charlie cried out in pain and fell to his knees, breathing hard. "Charlie? CHARLIE!" Percy cried, kneeling beside his brother. "What is it?"
Charlie's eyes had glazed over. Similar to how Harry's had every once and a while at school. She'd seen it while she'd watched him over the first few weeks of her arrival at Hogwarts. They cleared and he crumpled on the floor, shaking.
"Alyssa… the baby," he was muttering over and over again. Thunder clapped again and Fleur saw Bill jump.
"What?" Percy asked, bewildered.
"It's happening," Charlie moaned. "She's having my daughter!"
"We knew that, Charlie," said Percy, apparently oblivious. Fleur raised a hand to her mouth and gasped.
Charlie shook his head. "She's having the baby right now!"
"Oh… oh no," Percy murmured. "But the full moon! She's going to transform while in labour!"
Charlie shook his head. "She's having the baby back in New York. They're six hours behind," he replied absently. "I'm supposed to be there," he repeated, over and over.
Percy gripped his shoulder firmly. "Charlie! Charlie listen!" he snapped his fingers in front of Charlie's face, who finally looked up. "You are there! Just… keep the connection open. Comfort her, reason with her. Do what you're supposed to do. We'll watch over you!"
Charlie stared back at Percy for a long moment with a pleading gaze. "Can you? Can you please make sure I can be there for her?"
Bill stepped forward and laid his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Always, mate. I've made excuses for you to get with girls in the past… I don't see how this is any different," Charlie laughed.
"Make sure I don't wander off yeah?" Charlie asked with a slight smile. "Stick with me,"
Percy and Bill chuckled lowly. "Until the end, Charlie," they said together, rolling their eyes.
Charlie laughed exuberantly. A poor representation of their current situation, in Fleur's opinion. She smiled at him all the same. It was impossible not to. The glee etched into his face was quite admirable. "I'm going to be a dad!" he cried.
Percy laughed. "Yes, you are. Oh, and before you start to doubt yourself, just remember what we talked about,"
"All I have to do is be there, and be supportive," Charlie repeated.
Percy nodded and Bill smiled.
"Right," Charlie took a deep breath. "Here we go," his eyes glazed over, and he reached to his left to grab hold of Percy's arm. Percy took hold of his hand and led him forward with Bill and Fleur.
The world glowed eerily as lightning struck the point of Nurmengard's tower. The water was pouring off the cliff and Fleur could now hear it crashing into the already flooded valley below. The entire ward dome was filling with water.
Fleur led the party as they walked across the ridge of the roof. Avoiding any valleys as the roof connected to other parts of the castle. The sound of shattering glass and general chaos rang out from within the open windows left behind from Grindelwald's escape. Water was pouring into the Hall, and with it, the tower.
Fleur watched the masonry begin to shake at the base of the tower. Its stone was weakened, cracking, and dented. Years of seasonal erosion had taken their toll, especially with its general lack of upkeep over the past fifty years. The foundation had been weakened. All it took was a collection of large fallen trees being pushed against its western wall for the tower's foundations to give.
Its lower portion collapsed inward, and the tower swung in the direction of the flooding. Lightning struck the spire one final time as Fleur, Bill, Percy, and a nearly unconscious Charlie watched the tower swing down mere meters away from them. It crash into the waves with a resounding splash, sending water up and through the air all over the roof they were standing on. It was enough uplifted water to cause Bill to stumble and slip. Fleur was fast enough, however, and threw an arm around his waist just in time.
The rain somehow increased, and that was when they heard it.
A deep, reverberating sound. It was terrifying, exhilarating, and eerie all at once. Its blare seemed to quiet the raging storm, even as it continued to spiral in severity. It was a blowing horn. A war cry.
It came from the East. From the valley.
Fleur inched her way along the roof's ridge once again, followed closely by Bill and a hesitant Percy. Fleur froze at what she saw. Bill sidled up next to her. His breath hitched.
There was an armada of ramshackle wooden ships. Thrown together with logs and various other natural elements. The borders of the vessel were lined with spikes, and torches were lit aflame all over each of the craft. They floated atop the rising waterline against the once incomprehensively tall cliff face. As the water continued to pour over the edge
There was a ship at the center that was far larger than the others. It seemed to command the fleet. At least, that's what Fleur assumed.
"Alyssa…" the voice was low, guttural. Animalistic. Fleur would have assumed the speaker had used a sonorous charm. But wand magic was impossible within these wards. They must have simply been able to speak louder. She couldn't think of another explanation "I can feel your pain," the voice continued. It was distinctly male.
"Greyback," Bill spoke through gritted teeth.
Percy groaned. There must be a way out of this besides waiting for the wards to either fail or whatever the hell they were waiting for. Percy saw Fleur stiffen at Bill's words, and he could understand why.
"He must think Alyssa is here," Percy shouted over the storm. "He must sense her through Charlie!"
Bill nodded absently. Suddenly, a low drumming began. It came from the ships and Percy realized that it must have been Greyback's army because no magic could simulate such a bone-chilling sound. They struck in bands of three.
One Two Three Three, One Two One Two, One Two Three Three.
Thunder clapped once again. Lightning spread through the sky like a capillary bed. Illuminating the sky with an ethereal glow. It reflected off of Fleur's iridescent hair blearily. It temporarily blinded Percy who stumped to the ground.
Unfortunately, Charlie came with him. They toppled to the side, sliding down a valley of the roof. Its slippery slope created a complete and total lack of any handholds or grip.
Eventually, Percy landed on a protruding dormer with a window. Charlie, however, was not so lucky. His bulky mass swung over the edge and tugged hard on Percy's right shoulder. He heard a horrific popping sound come from his right and he cried out in pain. It felt as though someone had torn his skin open, poured salt into it, and punched the wound repeatedly. He could feel the blood rushing into the bruise. His grip slackened entirely, and Charlie fell from his hand. "CHARLIE!" Percy cried. His words drowned out in the storm.
Charlie fell in slow motion and landed on the side of the fallen tower. His right arm had surely broken. The water level was rising along the sides of the tower, and it appeared to be moving. The shock of Percy's dislocation was too much to bear at the moment. He watched the tower slide to the left, which he knew to be East.
The water had pushed any and all foundation for the tower off the edge of the cliff, it would seem. Or perhaps the conjured flood had simply eroded the cliff's edge because nothing held the collapsed tower back anymore. The force of the water pushed the tower through the mud and dirt it currently lay on. Its hulking form, with Charlie's body plastered against it, ground its way off the cliff. "CHARLIE!" Percy tried to move but he felt a firm, though distinctly delicate grip grab his shoulders.
"Non! You will fall off with him. Is that what you want? Is that what he would want?" she was crying, it would seem, and Percy tried to force himself out of her grip but she only tightened her hold on him.
Percy could do absolutely nothing as the tower tipped as its center of gravity shifted and Charlie's limp form tumbled off the edge, along with the monumental engineering accomplishment that had once been Nurmengard Tower.
The sky glowed brilliantly once again with lightning. The drumming grew louder, and Percy had no thoughts coursing through his mind other than "Charlie… Gone,"
He felt Fleur lift him to his feet and walk him back up to the roof's ridge. He didn't know how she could always successfully find handholds and a firm grip for his sodden boots. His eyes remained wide open as she guided him up the roof.
Charlie was gone.
Bill reached forward and grabbed him by the shoulders, hauling him up next to him, and stared him dead in the eye. "Listen, Perce, I know it's bad…" he coughed and Percy couldn't tell through his rain-streaked face whether or not Bill was crying. "But the water level has risen… it's possible that his fall wasn't too disastrous. It's possible!" he shouted as another thunderclap ravaged Percy's eardrums.
Percy nodded vigorously. He needed that. That injection of hope into an inevitably hopeless situation.
The waterline was rising against the roof of the hall they stood on. The raft rested on the East side, facing the valley and Greyback's armada.
The roof shook and lightning struck once more, illuminating an enormous crack that stretched from side to side of the hall's roof. Percy took a glance over the edge and gasped. The ground under the castle had nearly vanished completely. The Eastern side of the Hall was entirely unsupported.
It was being held together by nothing but the rest of the castle. Percy told Fleur and Bill what he saw. "Our raft is still over there! We need to get it before it falls over the edge!" His voice came out as a shrill scream to overcome the storm. Fleur nodded and stepped forward, but Bill held her back.
"It's dangerous!" he cried.
Fleur rolled her eyes and shook her arm out of his grasp. "I am part veela," she cracked a hesitant smile. "We are light on our feet."
Before Bill could stop her, she stepped over the crack and made her way over to the raft with her arms out by her side to help her balance.
The air seemed to crackle with energy as lightning began to strike a point over the cliff, presumably one of the ships, repeatedly. One after the other they struck, as though charging something.
Fleur stumbled slightly, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. Bill tensed and watched her carefully. Fleur continued to walk towards the raft and wrapped her right hand through one of the loops they'd made. She began to drag it back towards Bill and Percy.
"NOW FOR THE MAIN EVENT!" Greyback roared from somewhere below them. Fleur hesitated slightly at the sound of his voice but persevered until she reached Bill and Percy.
Not a moment too soon, it would seem, because shortly after the raft crossed the crack in the roof, half of the Hall they stood on fell to the water.
It was then that they noticed it. The water level had nearly matched that of the plateau the castle was built on. The Armada stood before them. Hundreds of people stood on them. The two ships that floated in front and to the side of the main vessel carried a dozen drums. Which continued to beat in bands of three.
One Two Three Three, One Two One Two, One Two Three Three.
Lightning was, in fact, striking the center ship. It seemed that every three or four seconds, the storm forced its hand on a large metal spear that rose high into the sky from the middle of the vessel.
Three figures stood in front of the spear. They couldn't make out the faces of any of them, because they were lit from the back. But Percy wouldn't be surprised if this was the dreaded trio, Greyback, Fennu, and Himulrean. The werewolves who've caused the most damage, and have been missing since Voldemort's fall.
"DEATH STRIKES OUR SPEAR!" Greyback roared. "AND THE MOON SHIFTS WITH US!"
Percy felt an out-of-place lurching sensation take hold of his body. As though he was falling. The water seemed to react as well. Its waves seemed to hesitate in their motions for a moment. Percy noticed Bill and Fleur react similarly to how Percy felt.
Then, the drumming stopped abruptly. Percy whirled around to face the armada once again. The pouring rain continued but the lightning had stopped charging the spear. Screams and shouts emanated from the fleet. They were horrifying. It sounded as though hundreds had been put under the cruciatus. Even over to torrential downpour and the seemingly constant thunder, they could be heard clear as day.
"Merlin's beard," Bill murmured. It was practically inaudible. "He's turned the Earth," he said.
Percy and Fleur gasped. The lightning strikes. His speech. The strange change in gravity that had taken over Percy's body and the water. Greyback had shifted the earth into position to cause the full moon to arrive sooner.
The screams persisted, the bodies writhing and collapsing to the decks of their ships. The water level only continued to rise. Percy thought of Charlie, who had hopefully woken from his trance-like state. Perhaps he was merely treading water somewhere.
Eventually, finally, the screams lapsed into howls and barks. Greyback's form was enormous. It was deformed. Where the other werewolves resembled their animal counterpart, Geryback's was demented. His limbs were elongated, and his fur seemed patchy in the hazy lighting.
Then, to Percy's horror, a distorted human voice resonated from deep within Greyback's wolf-form. "WATCH AS THE TRAITORS OF OUR KIND ARE EXPOSED…"
Harry Potter's body jerked suddenly as glasses and plates fell to the floor in the Great Hall. People screamed with shouts of confusion. His legs and arms began to twitch and his neck quivered. He shot a glance up to Remus. This wasn't supposed to happen for another two hours. He'd taken his wolfsbane, however. So he shouldn't harm anyone if something were about to happen.
He rose with Remus simultaneously. Harry's left leg seemed to be shifting. It felt like it, anyway. Biting back a scream he bolted as fast as he could out of the Hall. Remus was close on his heels. The Hall's occupants watched with confused expressions as the professor and his ward charged out of dinner. Dumbledore's frown deepened, and he followed them out, along with Snape.
"WATCH THE WEAK ONES COWER AS THEIR LIVES SHATTER AROUND THEM!" Greyback's scratchy wolfish voice continued. "I SPEAK DIRECTLY TO YOU, CHIARA LOBOSCA, REMUS LUPIN, AND ALYSSA SCAMANDER!"
Alyssa's pain worsened. She hadn't taken her potion today. She'd completely forgotten. Tina rushed into the delivery room, panick-stricken. "We've lost three hours, Alyssa," she said desperately. "We're going to use a charm to speed up your labour process, do you understand?"
Alyssa nodded through her tears. She couldn't feel the transformation before, but she could now. It was coming. She had three hours to deliver this baby. Three hours left before she'd transform.
"It is a dangerous charm, do you permit its use on you?" the medi-witch asked. Alyssa was in a daze. She didn't give a damn.
"YES!" she cried in exasperation.
"YOU HIDE IN THE SHADOWS LIKE COMMON MUTTS!" Greyback screamed. "No longer…" he continued in what Percy assumed was a hushed whisper, even though it carried for miles. "You try to mate with them… you try to live your lives on a lie. NO LONGER I SAY!"
Chiara Lobosca shook her head and grabbed hold of her daughter in a daze. The transformation was upon her. The pain was unimaginable. She ran through the towering alleys and buildings of Wizarding Cairo. Her flat was right around the corner. She never had enough money to afford wolfsbane. She was nearly there. She burst through the door and flicked her wand dazedly back at the entrance, locking it shut.
Before the wolf overcame her body, she sent up a silencing charm with a careless flick.
That was close. Too close.
"DEATH'S SECOND GIFT TORE A RIFT BETWEEN THE WORLDS… Right… Here." Greyback pointed to the deck of his ship. Percy noticed there was a lump near his feet.
"Get on the raft!" Fleur shrieked. Drawing Percy out of his stupor. He glanced around and noticed with a start that the water level had risen to his ankles, even from where he stood on the roof. The raft was floating now, and Bill and Fleur had clambered on top of it. Percy trudged through the water, which was rising faster and faster. He scrambled onto the small conglomeration of planks and shutters.
"Today… today we finish our weapon," Greyback spoke softly and it sent a shiver down Percy's spine. He was glancing round in the waves, periodically illuminated by lightning throughout the sky, in search of Charlie.
"I will be connected… to all of you. Every wolf will hear my voice. I will sense their every move. Their every thought and emotion! I will have an empire at my command!"
The other wolves surrounding him barked and howled madly. Percy gulped and Bill was glaring daggers at Greyback. Fleur had a sort of makeshift paddle in her hand and Bill took it from her roughly. He began to push them through the waves. And they were waves now. Any remnants of the castle had vanished beyond the conjured sea's depths.
The Armada seemed to lock on to them. Pursuing them through the waves.
Petunia Dursley gasped as the man behind the counter at her local chemist began to writhe and scream behind the counter. "Sir! Sir are you quite alright?" she asked, leaning forward over the counter. She screamed when she saw fur grow out of the man's skin. His body contorted and morphed. A snout extended from his face.
"Petunia, dear? What is it?" Marge and Vernon came running around the aisle. Dudley was right hot their tail.
Where there once stood a man, there now stood a large reddish-brown wolf with bright yellow eyes. It growled at Petunia before leaping over the counter, sinking its teeth deep into her throat and slicing her abdomen open with its paws. The scream died in her throat as her life left her body. The wolf made quick work of Vernon, before ripping the throat out of Marge Dursley. Dudley groaned and made a run for the door, but the werewolf leapt through the air and sunk its teeth deep into Duddley's arm. The boy cried out in pain and fell to his knees. Writhing and screaming.
The transformation wouldn't take place tonight. No. Once the bite was administered, the virus would take a month to spread.
But when the moon rose next, Dudley Dursley would be forever changed.
Bill was paddling furiously. Percy and Fleur were on the sides using their arms to help. Percy's dislocated right shoulder was doing no favours for him. His arm was entirely numb.
"ONCE THE WATER REACHES THE SKY… THE RITUAL WILL BE COMPLETE!" Greyback cried angrily.
Dumbledore appeared at the Burrow's edge. He strode quickly towards the front step. He knocked three times and Molly opened the door. She wore a kind smile that lost all enthusiasm at Dumbledore's grave appearance. "What is it, Albus?" she asked worriedly.
"I believe it would be wise for you and Arthur to accompany me," he said quietly. Molly's forehead creased but she turned and got her husband. They stepped out of the house and Dumbledore took one of the abandoned yellow rain boots that resided at the entrance to the home. He tapped it with his wand, and it emitted a faint blue glow.
Molly and Arthur didn't have to ask what it was. They'd recognize a portkey anywhere. They each laid a finger on the boot as Dumbledore murmured, "Activate,".
They arrived in a moonlit valley of the Austrian Alps. Dumbledore's beard blew in the wind, and he felt Molly and Arthur sidle up next to him. "Merlin, no!" Molly cried.
They were facing a dome or water. Though the water appeared to be held in place by an invisible force, Albus knew these to be wards. They couldn't see what was happening. Albus felt a sinking feeling settle into the pit of his stomach. A conjured storm was raining down in the bubble. There was nothing they could do but watch.
They continued to paddle. The storm was terrifying. The waves were incredibly high. Percy was struggling to breathe. Every breath seemed to take in as much water as it took in air. "SO YOU CONTINUE TO FLEE… EH? COME… THE VEELA GIRL WILL NOT BE ENOUGH TO HOLD US BACK!" Percy saw Fleur grit her teeth and whirl around. She, like the rest of them, was kneeling on the raft. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Percy turned to see what she was looking at.
"We'll meet again…" Came a voice from far behind them, shouted over the wind and rain. It was Greyback. Calm and controlled. "DON'T KNOW WHERE… DON'T KNOW WHEN!" his distorted human voice cackling from the mouth of a wolf chilled Percy to the bone. Greyback was on his hindlegs. He stood completely and comfortably bipedal. His arm was raised, it was clutching a body by its neck. Percy couldn't tell what or who it was. Perhaps it was that lump he had seen at Greyback's feet earlier. "BUT I KNOW WE'LL MEET AGAIN…" lightning struck somewhere behind Greyback, illuminating the scene. "SOME SUNNY DAY!" he shrieked. In his twisted paws, which carried opposable thumbs, Percy now knew who he held by the throat.
It was Charlie. He was kicking and swinging his arms around madly. His face was red and blotchy.
"Charlie!" Bill cried over the pouring rain and crashing waves. The raft nearly tipped over and he had to reposition himself so the weight was distributed evenly
Charlie screamed as Greyback slashed his stomach. The backlighting from the torches illuminated a horrid sight. Charlie's innards fell to the deck of the ramshackle ship.
"Charlie! CHARLIE!" Percy cried. His voice was completely and utterly drowned out by the storm.
"CAN YOU HEAR ME ALYSSA?" Greyback roared, staring directly into Charlie's watery eyes. "DID YOU LIKE MY LITTLE PERFORMANCE? HIMULREAN ALWAYS SAID YOU LOVED MUGGLE MUSIC…" every word concluded with a bark-like sound or a whine. His wolf form's speaking ability was not close to that of a human's, which only made it even more disconcerting.
"TELL ME, ALYSSA… DO YOU THINK THEY CAN HOLD ME? DO YOU THINK YOUR DAUGHTER IS SAFE? Greyback laughed long and hard. "Watch your husband die," he finished calmly, but his voice could have carried for miles of all Percy could care. He raised the arm clutching Charlie's throat high above him.
Charlie's kicking increased with a vengeance. Striking at Greyback's paw and struggling beyond belief. Lightning flashed overhead. The scene was clear as day for Percy to watch Greyback's muscles clench, the tendons contract, as his fingers snapped the neck of his brother.
The crunch echoed through the valley, even over the tumultuous noise of the storm.
"NO!" Percy cried in agony. Greyback began to laugh uproariously. His wolfish form contorted as his laugh turned into a howl. He threw the limp body up and through the air, landing directly at the center of Fleur's transfigured boat with a series of cracks.
Fleur screamed in horror at the body before her, and Bill collapsed to his knees in shock.
Charlie's lifeless eyes stared up at the sky. Reflecting the lightning that spread through the clouds at an ever-increasing rate.
"No, no, no, no," Percy muttered as he reached for Charlie's hand. His body was still warm. It was so disorienting to feel. He tried to cradle his head in his arms, but the looseness of his neck made Percy want to hurl and scream and weep until he couldn't feel any more. The word had gone dark, and the light was nowhere to be found.
"It's coming now, honey, just hold on to my hand!" Alyssa heard the Medi-Witch yell over her own screams. Something was wrong! Charlie wasn't here in her mind. An empty chasm had replaced him.
Molly staggered forward. It felt as though a piece of her had been crushed to pieces within her very heart. Something was wrong. Something had happened.
"Charlie please don't-" Percy sobbed, choking on his own spit. "Charlie wake up!" he wailed, trying to hold as much of his brother as possible. His arm, his torso. Whatever he could reach. He hugged Charlie's body and screamed. A gut-wrenching, demented sound. He couldn't breathe fast enough for the shock that was overcoming him. He felt more than saw Bill come to the other side of Charlie's body.
Bill groaned in a low guttural cry. Animalistic, even.
"Charlie wake the fuck up, please!" Percy whined. "You're not dead. You aren't!" he felt like such a child. Whinging over a lack of Christmas presents.
With a start, Percy realized that Charlie's body was shaking. Could it be?
But it wasn't what he thought it was. His body was quivering, and his muscles were clenching, but he was dead. His body was only reacting to the aftereffects of having itself completely torn to shreds. The wetness on his arm only amplified the fact that Charlie was gone. Blood was pouring out of his abdomen and Percy desperately tried to cover the wound. He removed his shirt and laid it over Charlie's uncovered organs. The rain poured on Percy's bare back like pellets of hail, but he didn't care. No pain could match what was tearing at his heart at this moment.
"Just keep pushing!" the Medi-witch soothed. Gripping Alyssa's hand tightly. Alyssa couldn't hear anything. There was no voice in her head to comfort her anymore. Something was wrong, she knew something was wrong.
"Charlie don't leave…" he felt the raft lurch and was grateful for Fleur's quick thinking in leaning forward to balance it out. "Charlie you can't leave!" Percy yowled.
The moon would rise soon. She needed to have this damn baby but where was Charlie?
Her grandmother, Tina was there, instead of her mother or father. Because they were both long gone. Himulrean had seen to that.
Tina was encouraging her, helping her through the pain but it wasn't comfort.
"Where's Charlie!" she cried at one point.
Tina continued to hold her hand and ignored the obvious pain she was in from Alyssa's enhanced grip.
"You have…" he choked on another sob. Tears pouring down his face. He couldn't see – his vision was blurry. Even though he had his glasses on. He didn't bother wiping them. Any movement away from holding Charlie was one of accepting the inevitable. "Charlie, you have Alyssa! And your child! You're going to be such a wonderful father. You need to be there! You need to be there! You promised you'd be there! Remember? We agreed!" he cried, holding Charlie's crumpled form closer to his chest. "Because the best thing you can do is to be there! CHARLIE!" his words broke, and his voice felt scratchy. "CHARLIE PLEASE JUST- DON'T DO THIS PLEASE!"
"He's dead!" Alyssa wailed through the pain. She felt an odd pressure around her middle and heard people telling her it was over. "I know he's dead," she finished in a whisper.
"She…" the medi-witch put an emphasis on the pronoun, completely and totally misunderstanding Alyssa's outburst. "Is quite alive, dearie," there was a bundle in the witch's arms and Alyssa began to cry even harder. The tears felt like someone had turned on a tap behind her eyes and the overflowing of water took them over.
"Alyssa,"
She wrapped her arms around the bundle protectively and let the tears fall, trying to avoid them dropping on her daughter's contorted face. She was wailing and her fists were locked closed as though in anger, but the voice that had just whispered through her very soul was like a shot of firewhiskey after a stressful day. As though every muscle in her body could relax.
Her voice of comfort.
"Alyssa, I'm sorry," Charlie said mentally, it sounded as though he was crying. His voice felt different than it had during their prior connected talks. As though all his attention lived within her. She knew it was different. She knew he was gone.
"Just be here," she thought back, her voice sounding calm and dreamy as she continued to hold her now quiet daughter.
Charlie.
Percy didn't know how long he sat there. The boat rocked in the waves as the werewolves continued to approach. He sat on his knees, Charlie's head and bruised neck cradled in his lap. The wind blew harshly, his rain-soaked skin erupting in goose pimples from the cold. He could hear Fleur cursing in French and working hard to keep the raft steady as Greyback's ships approached. The water level hadn't reached the summit of the ward bubble, but it was close. Fleur didn't know what to do, he could tell, but neither did Percy or Bill.
Charlie's hair somehow seemed… stiff. As though it too had lost everything it had once been. His skin wasn't quite so warm. And it became increasingly easy to believe that he was gone.
Percy's hands slackened. He heard Fleur shout through tears, "I CAN NOT BRING YOU THROUGH THE WARDS! THEY WILL ONLY ALLOW ME TO PASS!" she seemed to glow. Her hair standing on end as though the water had never graced her form. Her veela magic was on full display, but it did nothing for Percy and Bill, who sat opposite each other on either side of their fallen brother. No magic could repair the pain that Percy felt at this moment. He could hear the werewolves shrieking in agony from Fleur's veela charm, but Percy didn't care.
They had to leave the dome. They had to stop whatever ritual would be completed once the water level reached to top. Percy gently laid Charlie's limp head and neck on the deck. He made sure to position it so that his broken neck wasn't too obvious. If you squinted, you could pretend he was sleeping. Percy stood on the churning raft and took Fleur's wand from her hand. She didn't put up much of an effort to keep it within her grasp. Bill's eyes locked with his and he nodded. Bill reached down and delicately removed Charlie's charm. The one that would always find Bill. The one that Percy could always find.
Bill held one half of the charm tightly, and Percy gripped the other side of it with his left hand. He didn't care that the wards would prohibit his wand magic.
He didn't care.
He raised Fleur's wand and didn't utter any incantation. He merely thought of Charlie.
Of that time when the twins had turned every page of every book he owned into a flapping mess, completely destroying his prized possessions. But Charlie had come in with a roll of tape and stayed up all through the night piecing every single book back together while Percy hid his tears.
That time Charlie had come home for the summer before Percy's O.W.L year and had brought home so many stories from the dragon reserve he'd just begun working with. But instead of telling his stories all night, he made everyone listen to Percy's latest essay. And his thoughts on whatever he'd been studying at the time. How Charlie had asked all the right questions. How he'd cared.
He focused on those feelings. That of deep, true, love. Something that absolutely no one could fulfill. The love of a brother. Of a protector.
Of a friend.
He knew Bill to be thinking identical sentiments with similar thoughts because the charm they held together dissolved in a shower of purple sparks. The sparks burst forward unto the horizon like a flock of birds, and a bright, pure-white jet of magic streamed out of Fleur's wand, crashing against Greyback's wards with a sound that could have caused an avalanche had it occurred outside of the dome. It sounded as though water was pouring down a rocky slope. The hair at the back of Percy's neck stood on end, but he paid it no mind as the pressure of tears continued to draw his attention.
The walls of the wards began to crack and splinter like glass, before finally, with a rushing sound like air being let out of a balloon, the wards failed.
Percy could hear the werewolves behind them howling in dismay. Greyback's angered roars and cries of rage. But he paid it no mind.
Charlie was dead. That thought repeated over and over within his mind as the water fell from its magical containment. The raft rode the tidal wave perfectly thanks to Fleur's charm work, now that Percy had handed her wand back to her.
This was all his fault. He'd made sure Charlie had kept the connection open between him and his wife so he could be there for his daughter. Oh, Merlin, he'd killed his own brother.
"Aresto momentum!" Fleur cried tearfully. The raft slowed and glided down through the air like a bird to the ground of the valley. Well clear of the wardstones and Greyback's armada.
They'd prevented his ritual at the very least.
Percy heard footsteps but didn't have the energy left to look up. Bill, it would appear, was of the same sentiment. The two of them continued to stare down at Charlie's body.
Every passing second that Charlie didn't move, didn't blink, didn't breathe, was another second of acceptance and sorrow.
"Bill! Charlie! Percy!"
It was the voice of Percy's mother. He didn't think he could handle this. His stomach heaved and he felt the urge to vomit. He couldn't watch his mother cry. He wouldn't be able to listen to her screams.
The footsteps halted, and a whimper emitted from Molly's throat. Percy's tears returned hard and heavy. Shoulder wracking sobs and guttural wails as he fell back on his knees and stared up into the heavens. He didn't hear a word of what his mother said. He couldn't. He finally looked down and took in the sight of his mother clutching Charlie to her chest and rocking him back and forth pleadingly. His father stood there with his hands hanging by his sides in a trance-like state. He was watching his wife hug and rock their dead son with a lost expression.
"Oh, Charlie!" were the first and last words Percy heard from his mother. His father kneeled down and took Charlie's hand and he began to cry.
Percy had never seen his father cry. It had never happened. It was a pitiful sound. It was deep and horrifying. It didn't seem to belong in Arthur Weasley's vocal range. He shook and squeezed Charlie's hand, tears dropping onto Charlie's wrist. There was nothing they could do. Fleur stood next to Dumbledore, teary and with an expression of shame. Bill stared off into the distance, his wet hair plastered around his face.
Percy's world had come crashing down.
"Where is Gellert?" Dumbledore asked slowly. "Did he stay behind?"
A sudden surge of rage took over Bill, who shot to his feet with a tormented expression "He left two days ago. He brought us here. He had a vision, and he left. We don't know where he is. But he's gone. He's the reason all of this happened. He's the reason Charlie is dead!" he finished in an anguished cry, which only made Percy's mother and father cry harder.
"I'm going to kill him," Percy said from where he kneeled in a deadly calm voice. "I'm going to kill him." Percy paid no mind to Dumbledore's glassy-eyed expression as the aged headmaster stared up to the sky with a pained expression.
They remained there for a long time. Percy didn't know how long. Percy's mother appeared to have fallen asleep clutching Charlie's body. His father seemed to have done the same.
"We must return to Hogwarts," Dumbledore spoke softly, waking Percy's mum and dad from whatever dozing they'd accomplished. "We need to inform the others,"
Percy's dad nodded slowly and rose to his feet, helping his wife stand in the process. Dumbledore waved his wand and Charlie's body was wrapped tightly in a white sheet. It hit Percy like a bludgeoning hex.
Charlie was dead. Well and truly gone from this Earth.
Dumbledore waved his wand again, and the body vanished. "I've banished it to St. Mungos with specific instructions to leave it until the family arrives. They know who it is, and what it's doing there. You may tend to those matters after we've met with… the students,"
Molly nodded stiffly, smiled at Dumbledore, and murmured a quiet "Thanks,".
Dumbledore held out a yellow rain boot and Percy placed his index finger on it loosely. Everyone else followed before the tug behind the navel made itself known.
They arrived in Dumbledore's office. He walked up to one of the portraits and murmured a few instructions before conjuring multiple comfortable armchairs. No one sat, save Bill, who collapsed into one of the chairs and bounced his leg distractedly. Percy couldn't begin to understand how one could appear so calm. Perhaps it was just how Bill was.
Percy heard the sound of pounding footsteps before the door was flung open. Ginny led the charge, followed by Ron and the twins. Harry was conspicuously absent, but Percy didn't really mind.
Ginny froze at the sight before her.
"Where's Charlie?" she asked dangerously. "Mum, where's Charlie?"
Percy's mother stared right back at Ginny before breaking into more tears, his father followed suit but embraced his wife in silent comfort.
Ginny was always the brightest of the younger ones, Percy felt. And he saw the realization strike her. It was a flash of sorrow, despair, regret, hatred, sadness, and everything in between. But then it vanished. It vanished and she stared cooly at the room. She barely acknowledged Bill or Percy and fled from the office.
Ron and the twins understood. They weren't oblivious. They broke down in a similar manner to how Bill had done. Loud, uncontained, and confused sounds of grief.
To Percy, it all felt so wrong. Somewhere out there, Alyssa was running around in her wolf form, likely alongside her newborn daughter. Did she know? Surely, she knew…
Percy sank to his knees and wept.
Dudley Dursley was staring in dumb shock at his meaty hands. The policewoman with strange hair and a strange name. "Who names their daughter Nymphadora?" had come to talk to him multiple times now. It had been nearly a week since that man had turned into a wolf and killed his entire family, save himself. They said he was carrying a virus, and that he'd be transferred to a special hospital soon, and that they would be contacting his relatives.
"Now, I'm going to ask you again Mr. Dursley, do you have any relatives?" the policewoman asked.
Dudley stared dumbly back at her. He had no one. Aunt Marge's husband had died years ago. His mother and father had no one left. He was well and truly alone…
Well, unless you counted the freak of course.
But he hadn't seen Harry Potter for over a year. The last time was when he'd blown up Aunt Marge, which, admittedly, had been rather hilarious in hindsight.
If Harry was still alive, would he even help Dudley? After everything, they'd done to him?
Dudley sighed. "I have a cousin," he began. The Policewoman nodded eagerly, she had a strange stick tucked in behind her ear, Dudley realized. "He hasn't got any parents, though. And I haven't seen him in over a year. He used to live with us,"
Dudley could have sworn he'd seen something flash in the woman's eyes. Recognition? No. Worry, maybe?
"What's his name? We may be able to keep you two together if he's being cared for by another family. We should at least let him know,"
"Harry," Dudley said with a confidence he most certainly lacked. "Harry Potter,"
A/N: Holy fuck this chapter. I don't even know where to begin. The emotional undertaking that was writing a death scene like this… God, it hurt. I think it will be a rather controversial decision. I am sort of… well I'm on the fence about it, to be honest. It needs to happen, and you'll see why… but there's that part of me that just wants everyone to be happy
The stairs that lead up to Nurmengard are described in inspiration of Peter Jackson's Hobbit trilogy. In which we see Thorin's company climb the dwarven statue's hammer with a similar stair design. You can find what I mean by searching "The Hobbit The Desolation of Smaug Stairs." On google images. I tried to describe it as best I could.
Now that this arc is done, I figured I'd go in-depth on my characterization of Grindelwald. He's inspired by Darth Maul in the Star Wars Rebels "Twilight of the Apprentice" episodes. In which he persuades Ezra to help him with a dark deed.
Something that is key to understand is that Grindelwald WOULD HAVE STAYED. He was tempted by the Boys' childish desires to hear a prophecy. Tempted by power. It's written as a relapse of sorts. He asked Albus to shutter the windows so he wouldn't be tempted to act on fate again. To act on power. So, when I use the phrase "He sounded like someone who had sworn of sugar, only to take an offered candy," that's pretty much EXACTLY what's happening. Tina, Newt, and Albus will be very disappointed, I feel, because Grindelwald had wanted to change. He'd wanted and accepted that it was better if he lacked power.
Do these feelings affect what he does when he inevitably finds Ginny? Maybe. We'll see. *wink*.
We really explore some new stuff going forward, and I'm excited to see where it takes us. I hope you aren't all too mad at me and have a lovely day!