Chapter 16: Beasts in the Night
"How about the mountains?"
"No." Remus did not even look at him, preferring to vanish the month's worth of dust covering everything in the cottage instead.
"Alright... The beach, then!" Sirius was rocking back on the back legs of his chairs, twirling his wand between his fingers as he watched him work. "Far from any town. There's plenty of those around."
"Oh yes, and I'd wake up the next morning to find out you drowned trying to plunge off a cliff." Remus took out a few logs, carefully placing them in the hearth. "I think I'll pass."
"You know, you're no fun when you're like this."
Sirius waved his wand nonchalantly, lighting up the fireplace, and put it back in the breast pocket of his jacket. The leathery material it was made of felt strange against his skin, rough in places and far too smooth in others, but he'd be damned if he didn't wear the first thing his godson had gifted him.
"I don't really like myself right now, either."
And for good reasons. His face was pale and tired, the side effects of Wolfsbane already manifesting, despite the early hour of the afternoon. And as the hour passed, he would grow weaker still, the draught sapping his strength until the moon rose and the wolf would be weak enough for Remus to retain his mind after the transformation.
"Yeah, I know." Sirius sighed. "All I'm saying is that we don't have to lock ourselves in here every time. I get enough of that the rest of the year already."
"I'm not going to take any risk, Sirius. You know what happened last time."
"That doesn't count. You didn't have the potion then."
"And I almost killed you and the others. It only needs to happen once..."
"We've been doing this since we were kids. Hell, you even managed on your own for a decade. You need to-"
A series of sharp cracks echoed outside the house. A sound so distinctive any wizard worth their salt would be hard-pressed to misinterpret it.
Sirius brought his chair back to the ground, looking at the door with a frown.
"Waiting for someone?"
"No. No one is even supposed to know we're here."
They exchanged a worried look before Sirius approached a window, pushing the thick curtains aside ever so slightly with the tip of his wand. The forest outside was plunged in darkness far too deep for this time of day, even with the century-old trees looming overhead.
"I don't see—wait, something moved."
They shivered as something cold and heavy fell upon them, as if someone had draped a blanket that had been left in the snow around them.
"Someone raised wards around the house." Careful not to pass in front of it, Remus took position on the other side of the window. "We can't leave."
"Of course we can't..." Sirius muttered between clenched teeth. Life had never given them a break and it was not about to start now.
"You're surrounded, Remus." An amplified voice easily passed through the thin glass, giving them pause as the all too familiar squeaky tone delivered its ultimatum. "It's time to come out now."
Sirius' hand clenched in a tight fist around his wand and only Remus' firm grasp on his shoulder stopped him from rushing outside.
"I'm not welcoming visitors today, Peter. How about you go back to whatever hole you crawled from before somebody gets hurt?"
"I don't want to fight. I just want to talk. To give you a chance to get on the winning side."
"And grovel at the feet of James and Lily's killer, like you?" Sirius spat. "You've always been a joke Peter, but even I didn't expect your punchline to be this bad."
"You should muzzle your dog, Remus, or his bark will get him killed." Outside, dark silhouettes moved around the trees, too quickly for either of them to sling a curse at or find an opening to flee. "Dumbledore has already lost. Do you really want to fight a lost cause to restore a system that treated you like vermin?"
"When the alternative is working with insane murderers and psychopaths like you and Greyback... I think I'm just fine where I am, thank you."
"Is that really what you think? We're the ones fighting for a better world. One where we won't have to hide from Muggles. Where you can walk down the street without people hiding their children from you. Think about-"
A glimmer of red was their only warning, one that Remus put to good use as he summoned the table against the window before it exploded, shielding them from the worst of it.
"Guess his new friends are as tired of hearing his crap as we are."
Curses, glass and stones filled the air, the Death Eaters holding nothing back and the last two marauders reciprocating in turn. Sirius stood amidst the chaos, slinging spell after spell with vicious precision, smiling ruefully when he heard the cries of pain of one of their "guests" as they fell.
Without any warning, Remus kicked over a large armchair and dove for cover behind it, dragging Sirius down with him. Not a second later, the far wall of the house exploded, covering them in stone dust.
"What the hell are you doing!"
"You almost caught that with your face!"
"I don't care!" Sirius barked back right to his face, enraged. "He's right here! I had him!"
"You won't have anything if you keep..." A silver gleam reflected in Remus' eyes and the colour drained from his face. "It can't-"
His incredulity died as he doubled over, shouting in pain as he pushed Sirius away and out in the open.
Swearing, Sirius hastily put up a shield. It came too late, however, to stop a curse from hitting his left shoulder, scorching his jacket yet leaving him with little more than a dull pain through his arm. He did not have the time to ponder the strange happening, however, as Remus was writhing in pain at his feet, clawing at his clothes as his bones snapped and rearranged themselves in an all too familiar sight.
Sirius dared a look over his shoulder, already knowing the impossible sight that awaited him. The pale moon, shining in its full and horrifying glory through the canopy and the missing wall, half a day before its time.
Too soon. Far too soon.
Rumours of the transformation had spread to the Death Eaters as well, the curses letting place to panicked shouts. Seizing the opportunity, Sirius sliced the air with his wand and the tree from which one of the shouts came from exploded, reigniting the hostilities.
Not keen on waiting for his friend to finish turning, Sirius threw himself out a window, the soft paws of a dog landing on the mossy ground.
He ran through the trees, biting and clawing at the Death Eaters he found, echoing the gruesome spectacle taking place in front of the house.
"Avada-"
"No!"
"Argh!"
His maw full of blood, Padfoot circled back to the house, limping and leaving behind him the body of the last Death Eater hiding in the forest.
In front of the ruined house, Moony had been forced to the ground and Peter was wrestling the wand of one of his henchmen away from him.
"I told you I want him alive!"
"Idiot! You're gonna get us killed!"
Always happy to help, Padfoot leapt at one of the Death Eaters and bloodied his maw once more. The man let go of his last breath, though not before a Bludgeoning hex sent the dog flying.
"Damn beasts."
Tossed around like a rag doll among the twigs and stones, Sirius collapsed face down into the moss, his very much human ribs burning painfully. To add insult to injury, the grumbling clouds above finally broke and heavy drops fell upon the forest.
"Remus. It's me, Peter, remember?" In the distance, Sirius could hear the loathful plea. Trying to drown them in his own shout only produced a growl as pain flared in his lungs. "You wouldn't harm your friend, would you?"
That little rat.
He dared?
After all he had done?
Fuelled by a rage that dulled his pain, Sirius pushed himself off the ground and onto his elbows, grasping for his wand.
"Please, Remus. I-I just want to help-"
With a feral howl, the Werewolf leapt at Peter, maw open wide and fanged bared.
Green light illuminated the forest and time slowed to a crawl as Sirius saw the last of his friends fall to the ground, like a grotesque puppet whose strings had been cut. There was no trace of the humble and soft-spoken man to be found here, only a rabid beast being put down.
He wanted to shout, to curse at the world and the rat that had ruined his life and all that he loved. No word, however, managed to pass his lips.
He needed to get up. To get to Remus and strangle that damned rat with his own hands. Yet his broken ribs kept him down and forced him to crawl through the mud.
Tearing his gaze from Remus' remains, Sirius searched for Peter. Nowhere did he find the gloating and satisfaction he had expected, however, for the traitor's face was twisted in a grimace of shock and despair.
"What have you done!"
"I killed a monster." The last henchman spat, turning his wand toward Peter. "And you better pray you're not next for dragging us in this mess in the first pl-"
The threat died on his lips, however. With a scream, barely an incantation, the forest was lit up by emerald light for the second time in as many minutes. As the body of his companion hit the ground, so did Peter's wand escape his grasp and his legs gave under him, leaving him to fall to his knees before Remus.
He remained there, slumped over the corpse of one who had once called him friend, the silence only broken by the rain hammering his hunched back.
"Peter. Peter!"
Pettigrew barely heard the shouts through the rain, broken up by coughs as they were. Picking up his wand, he turned to see Sirius, dragging himself through the mud to reach him, wand in hand.
"You did this! You did all of this!"
Startled, Peter shrank, disappearing from view.
"James ... Lily ... Remus .. You killed them all!"
Sirius peered through the rain, searching for the cowardly rodent until his wand was pried from his hand. A heavy weight came down on his back and he felt the distinctive shape of a wand being pressed against his throat.
"This ... This wasn't my fault."
"You brought this on yourself. On all of us!"
"No!" The wand dug deeper into his throat, trembling. "I never wanted things to come to this! I just... I only wanted to talk to him." Peter's voice was hoarse and broken up by sobs. His tears disappearing in the rain. "To explain everything. T-to make him understand-"
"What? That you're a monster? That you betrayed us? I think you clued him in on that a long time ago."
"I-I needed him to see. I never wanted James and Lily to die. But the Dark Lord ... He's the only one fighting for us. The only one willing to do what we need to build a world where we wouldn't have to hide! A world where Remus wouldn't be treated like a monster."
"You actually believed that crap?" Sirius couldn't stop himself. The rueful laugh set his lungs and broken ribs on fire and ended in a coughing fit, but he could not contain it. "You're insane!."
"I just ... I wanted my friend back."
"You killed James and Remus the moment you joined Voldemort. You're on the same side as the man who bit Remus as a child, Peter!" Sirius roared, struggling against Peter's hold despite the wand digging painfully into his throat. "You came to "talk" accompanied by Death Eaters! Whatever crap you tell yourself to justify this, you made your choice fifteen years ago."
"Shut up!" Peter pushed him back down into the mud. "You have no idea what I had to do. What I had to endure while you were fooling around. Remus was the only one that even-"
"Boohoo, sad little Peter had a tough time growing up. Join the club, arsehole!" Sirius spat. "None of us decided to help a dark lord and kill the others because of it! And speaking of which, it looks like you'll get to finish the set tonight."
Peter's hold weakened, allowing him to push him off and free himself. He turned on his back, arms out as he glared at Peter, who towered above him with his wand aimed at his chest.
"Come on. Do it!"
''I ... I..."
"Do it! You already took everything from me!"
"I can't..."
"Do it!" Sirius screamed his throat raw.
"No!" The silver hand came down, no spell coming out of the wand it held. Peter looked down at the last of his friends, his eyes full of pain and his voice broken. "You need to go. Just ... Just leave the country, Sirius. And never look back."
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Sirius behind in the blood-stained mud.
"No."
Gritting his teeth through the pain, Sirius pushed himself off the ground.
"No!"
Each breath set his lungs on fire, but he did not care.
"You don't get to walk away. Not again!"
Sirius threw himself at Peter, his form blurring in the air before Padfoot bit his arm, forcing him to drop his wand.
He changed back, pinning him down as he had been a moment ago.
He would not be a coward, however.
Not like Peter.
Never like him.
Beating down Peter's attempts at shaking him off, Sirius grasped a fistful of hair and a nearby rock.
For James.
For Remus.
With a cry of rage and sorrow, Sirius brought the rock down again and again.
Until the struggle stopped.
Until the pleading stopped.
Until he was the last Marauder.
Finally.
After sixteen years, the traitor was dead and his friends had been avenged.
The moment he had been living for this whole time had passed.
And yet, sitting alone under the rain and surrounded by the bodies of friends and foes alike, he could not feel the joy he had expected.
As he dragged himself to Remus and looked into the yellow eyes of his last friend, he could find no comfort in his presence.
In the distance, the Rochester Cathedral rang the first hour of the afternoon as the full moon shone above. A starless night had fallen over the country, bringing with it a chilling wind.
And yet, despite it all, the Muggles went on with their lives. The only difference was the unusually high number of people who had turned in their radios and tellies to hear experts fail to explain the strange sky and the catastrophes happening across in the country.
All of them blissfully unaware of the beasts lurking in their streets.
On the other shore of the Medway, a beast bared its fangs as it jumped onto the next roof, ready to pierce skin and muscles to satisfy the whispers of its curse.
It had been so long since it had indulged them, their sweet promises coming to it every night despite the lack of prey. Banished to the forests, far from Wizards and Muggles alike, condemned to live in shame of who it was.
But no more.
They had tried to trap them, to herd them like cattle, far away from their prey. They had underestimated them, thinking they faced mindless beasts. And now they would pay the price.
The pack had split, chasing the three little wizards through the streets after their plan had failed.
It could hear her run, her panicked steps echoing in the street below as she vainly tried to escape.
It could smell the metal and magic she had encased herself in, foolishly thinking it would protect her from its fangs and claws.
He could see her waver, her strength waning, allowing the pack to close in on her, prowling on the roofs and alleys.
They ran and ran, never stopping, never resting.
Never standing a chance.
The beast leapt from the roof, tackling its prey. The girl cried out, flailing around as she futilely tried to push the mass of muscles and fur off of her.
Jaws open wide, it plunged for the bite ... Only for its fangs to rip on the metal hidden under the clothes. Growling in rage, the beast bit and clawed at the prey repeatedly, scratching the armour yet never finding purchase in the flesh.
Something hit the beast in the back, throwing it off the girl with a howl of pain echoed by the others as a group of witches and wizards descended upon them.
Standing tall among them, a woman with faded red hair and a battered Auror cloak looked at the beast with cold anger shining in her eyes.
This was a face well-known by the beast, one of the main culprits responsible for the tightening laws against its kind. The very laws that had turned them into outcasts, living from scraps in the darkest reaches of the magical world.
And with a flash of red, her name was the last thing the Werewolf ever knew.
The iron fist of the Ministry.
Amelia Bones.
"Spread out and clean up. There are bound to be more lurking around."
The last Werewolf fell on the pavement, its burning fur spreading a foul smell that would have turned the stomach of anyone. Fortunately for Amelia, her Aurors were not anyone. They were the best of the best, trained by veterans and kept sharps even when the rest of the country had been content to leave the war behind after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had disappeared.
Already, Robards was barking orders and the dozen men they had brought busied themselves, masking any trace of the Werewolves' presence and apparating up to the roofs to locate the rest of the pack.
Among the bustling street and Aurors running left and right, Amelia stood still, towering over the armoured girl with her arms crossed.
"And what am I going to do with you?"
She could not be older than Susan and here she was, trembling like a leaf as she picked herself up, the smooth metal helmet doing nothing to hide the shock and fear that grasped at her heart.
Despite her shock and strange state of dress, the wand lying on the ground left no doubt as to her nature. Still, the colourful armoured suit gave her pause, chiefly since it matched the description that one of Dumbledore's men had given her after that bombing at the Ministry...
"You ... You can't be here..." With a trembling hand, the girl grabbed her wand and raised it toward Amelia. "I don't care what sick game you're playing, but-"
"I'm not playing any game. Which is why I would like to know who you are and what you are doing here."
"No!"
"No?"
"A-Amelia Bones is dead! You can't be her."
"A necessary subterfuge. One that was not hard to orchestrate when Death Eaters were killing officials left and right." With a flick of her wrist, the girl's wand jumped from her hand and into Amelia's. "Yet it hardly matters now. The only reason you are still alive is the fact the werewolves were after you."
Unarmed, the girl crawled backwards, frantically looking at the bodies surrounding them, the helmet hiding her face doing nothing to hide her distress.
Was she unused to death? Sympathizing with the enemy? Or maybe both?
"You ... You killed them all ... How could you do this?"
"My men and I saved your life and that of countless Muggles by putting down a group of dark creatures." Sympathizing with the enemy then. Disappointing. "You're welcome."
"Put them down?" She stood up, her unsteady legs supported by righteous indignation. "These are people you're talking about!"
"Right now they are dangerous beasts. Beasts that swore allegiance to a madman and are now threatening innocents."
"They don't have a choice! You and the rest of the Ministry practically pushed them into his arms with all the laws you passed!"
"Enough. I'm not here to debate politics. And are you really going to defend them when you almost got eaten by one of them not two minutes ago?"
"I wasn't in any danger. My suit protected me."
"Yes, I'm sure it did." Despite the sarcasm dripping from her words, Amelia could not ignore the mere scratches crisscrossing the armour, when her own reinforced trenchcoat would have been torn to shreds. How did a child get their hand on something like this? "Now are you going to take that thing off and tell me who you are or do I have to do it myself?"
The girl looked at her defiantly for a moment, fists clenched and ready to pounce. A stance Amelia had seen many times before in petty criminals before they tried their luck with an escape. None succeeded.
"Fine."
Letting out a shaky breath, she relaxed her stance yet she kept her chin high, challenging, as she took off her helmet, freeing two large braids of copper hair and an all too familiar face.
"Susan?" Amelia whispered, unable to believe her eyes.
"So you remember who I am?" Susan glared at her aunt, who could only stare back in shock. "Seven months."
"What..."
"I thought you dead for seven months. Not one note. Not one letter." With her helmet under her arm, Susan closed the distance between them and brought an accusatory finger right to her aunt's face. "And don't you give me that confidential crap. You couldn't even be bothered to send a message through Dumbledore."
"I'm leading a war!" Amelia snapped, pushing her hand away. "I can't take the time to coddle you when the entire country goes up in flames! What are you even doing here!"
"What do you think?" Susan gestures at what few Werewolves the Aurors had yet to cremate. "This would all be other already if you hadn't come in and mucked up our plan."
"Your plan?" Amelia could not believe what she was hearing. How could her sweet, clever niece do something so foolish? "A Werewolf was mauling you! We're getting you back to Hogwarts right this instant."
"I'm not going anywhere. Not while the people here need help." Susan scowled at her, her eyes darting to the fires burning on the side of the street, bringing with them the stench of charred flesh. "Not if that's your solution."
"You're a child, Susan! This isn't-"
A great howl rose in the night, soon echoed by more coming from every corner of the city.
"They found us." Amelia peered through the darkness down the street, searching for any sign of the beasts as her men closed ranks around her. "Tremaine, take her and-"
Taking advantage of the distraction, Susan snatched her wand from Amelia's grasp, her helmet already back in place.
"You-"
"I'm sorry. But we have to be better than this," As she stepped back, Susan disappeared into the night. "Or it will never end."
"Susan!"
"M'am, they're coming."
Cursing under her breath, Amelia turned away from the empty air where her only family had disappeared and walked up to Robards.
"I want men in those buildings and on the roofs, covering the alleys. Use the cars to slow their advance and keep them at bay. If they reach us, we apparate to the roofs. We can't let them get too close."
A nod from Robards and the men and women who had pledged their lives to save this country spear to form a defensive position.
Far too soon, the howls died down, the sound of claws scraping the asphalt and threatening growls filled the street. They waited, anxious for the charge of the beasts they could hear move just out of their sight. Playing with them. Instilling a sense of dread as their numbers grew with each passing moment ... Until a man, dressed in the same they were walked up the street, smirking and flanked by two of the beasts.
"When I heard that a bunch of Aurors were hunting down our men, I could hardly believe it. And yet, here we are." The man stopped, close enough from their makeshift barricade to be seen yet far enough to avoid any spell they could throw at him. "When you disappeared, I thought you had wisened up and left the country."
"And leave it to punks like you?" One of the Aurors on the barricade shouted. "Not a chance."
"So crude." The man clicked his tongue loudly, making a show of shaking his head. "You are talking to an official representative of the Ministry. But I guess basic manners are beyond the simple minds of the old guard."
"Licking Malfoy's boots and wearing this coat doesn't make you an representant of the law, Selwyn," Amelia called out impatiently. "Not when you failed the exam as many times as you did."
"Is that Amelia Bones I hear?" Brayden Selwyn asked, joy and disbelief fuelling his voice. "It seems the rumours of your death were greatly exaggerated."
"And yours will be a certitude. So how about you drop the crap and tell us what you want already?"
"Well, I was going to offer your men a chance to rejoin the office and to serve the rightful administration, but I think I have a better idea now. Your corpse will make for a most satisfying gift to the Dark Lord. Boys? It's dinner time."
Surging from the shadows, dozens of Werewolves charged from every direction. With reflexes honed by decades of experience, the Aurors started casting as soon as the first tufts of fur appeared, killing beasts left and right yet barely thinning the horde. Already they climbed the barricade, the metal tearing under their paws like paper.
"Retreat! Get to the-"
A shrill sound echoed through the street, stopping the Werewolves in their tracks and bolts of lightning burst out from the shadows, arcing from Aurors to werewolves.
Her ears ringing and dark spots encroaching upon her vision, Amelia bit her tongue to remain conscious as everyone around her collapsed to the ground.
In the distance, Selwyn apparated away, seconds before the light of a spell flew right where he had been standing.
"I'm sorry Auntie." Amelia turned around to find Susan, standing among the unconscious Aurors with two other armoured silhouettes. "But I can't let anyone else die."
"Susan..."
"Stupefix."
The spell hit Amelia and she collapsed, joining the rest of the combatants in a restless sleep.
The cracking sound of Bellatrix apparating in the lobby of her brother-in-law's manor was drowned by the agonizing cries coming from the lounge. Unsurprising, really. Whatever poor sod had thought they could bring the Dark Lord bad news when the entire country was feeling his ire should have known better.
Leaning on the wall for support, Bellatrix limped toward the lounge, hoping Severus had returned from his raid already. The man was a disgrace, but even she had to admit his knowledge of healing was the best they had and she would be damned if she let one of the new recruits touch her.
Oh, how she missed Rookwook. Why did he have to go and get himself killed by old Mad-Eye? That's what you get by keeping your nose in dusty tomes instead of training.
She turned the corner and entered the lobby as the Dark Lord put an end to his spell, the cries of one of the new blood turning into whimpered pleas.
"Please. Please my lord I didn't-I didn't-"
"You failed me, Selwyn. Once again."
"But my lord-"
"Crucio."
With the Dark Lord otherwise occupied, Bellatrix ignored the sorry spectacle and hobbled over to the lounging chair where Cissy was cringing at the mess ruining her precious carpet. Standing next to her, Lucius was twirling his wand in his hands, raising an eyebrow at her as she approached yet not saying a word.
The little prick.
And speaking of pricks, while a few mooks were in the room, enjoying the scene, Severus was nowhere to be found. It figures he would still be out playing with Muggles instead of doing his job.
Well, at least she would have some entertainment while waiting for his return.
"I sent you with the largest pack of Werewolves in Western Europe and you dare return empty-handed?"
Nagini, coiled at the Dark Lord's feet, hissed in disapproval, her tongue humming the fear and pain of Selwyn's cries.
"Do you have any idea how costly the ritual that allowed them to turn during the day was? How long it took Greyback to build up his numbers? Only for you to waste it all in a matter of hours. And you dare to come back empty-handed?"
As the useless sack of blood and bile continued to writhe on the floor, Bellatrix stretched her leg and winced at the sight of her tight. The Longbottom kid might have gotten a lucky shot, but she had been lucky herself not to lose her leg there and then.
"As if Dumbledore's cowardice was not enough, your incompetence is costing me more than I can afford to lose."
The curse ceased once again and Selwyn rolled to the side, catching his breath with a throat he had screamed raw.
"Please ... Please, my Lord. I couldn't ... It was them. Those who attacked the Ministry! And the Aurors ... We didn't stand a chance! If you allow me to go back with a dozen men-"
"Crucio."
Ever merciful, the Dark Lord only subjected the insolent whelp to the curse for a few seconds before freeing him.
"I tire of these useless servants you found, Lucius." The man straightened as the attention of the Dark Lord fell upon him. "There will be changes in the Ministry. As for this one..."
Selwyn tried to push himself up, to look the Dark Lord in the eyes and plead, but his broken voice failed him and he collapsed once more, staining the carpet with his blood, to Cissy's consternation.
"Nagini. Kill him."
Cissy, ever the fragile little thing, turned away her gaze as the snake rose from the floor, and her husband barely hid his distaste behind the back of his hand.
Nagini leapt at the pathetic worm, maw open wide and ready to sink her fangs into her early diner...
And hissed in agony as a gleaming silver blade pierced her abdomen.
"This hurts a lot less when the snake is smaller."
Despite her injured leg, Bellatrix jumped from her seat, brandishing her wand. A second later, the mooks followed her lead and Lucius stepped in front of Cissy while the Dark Lord remained frozen in shock.
The blade came down, throwing the snake's corpse at the feet of the intruders.
"You wished to draw me out, Tom. Well, here I am."
Dumbledore and Potter stood in the middle of their headquarters, ruining Cissy's precious carpet with the blood of the Dark Lord's pet.
The Dark lord roared with rage, all pageantry forgotten as he sent a cloud of living shadows at the interlopers, plunging the room into chaos.
Dumbledore deflected the spell into the group of Death Eaters by the far walls, and their flesh melted off their bones as he animated the carpet to attack the Dark Lord.
When Bellatrix tried to help her master, Dumbledore sent her curse back at the Dark Lord and banished her into the wall. She slid to the ground, stunned and out of breath, while the two Titans exchanged spell after spell, destroying the house around them.
Through the chaos, she spotted Lucius, who grabbed a panicked Cissy and apparated away.
At least Blondie was good for something.
On the other side of the fight, Potter plunged his blade deep into the torso of Crabbe, who had escaped the fate of his companions. The boy freed his blade and sent a spell toward the Dark Lord, who blocked it with ease. This distraction came at a cost, however, and Dumbledore's curse struck true, tearing the flesh off the Dark Lord's arm.
"You little brat!"
Pushing herself off the floor and standing precariously on her injured leg, Bellatrix sent a volley of cruses at Potter, turning the duel into a deadly cross-fire when he retaliated.
The four of them were so taken by their fight that none noticed Selwyn as he bragged himself out of harm's way. With his body barely responding to his will and his mind fractured, the man held on to a single hope, the one thought that had kept him from going mad under the torture of the master he had admired.
Revenge.
Revenge upon those who had caused his downfall.
Revenge upon those who had looked upon his torture with scorn and laughed.
"May you all burn."
With this singular intent and his very life fuelling the spell, Brayden Selwyn whispered his last words and exploded in a flurry of dark flames.
Taking the shape of a thousand creatures, the flames spread in an instant, consuming everything in their path, starting with the body of their caster.
"My lord!" Bellatrix shouted in alarm, the flames already devouring the furniture around her.
Through them, she could see the Dark Lord to which she had dedicated her life and soul ignore her plea, his scornful glare reserved for Dumbledore before he apparated away.
"My lord?"
"Harry!"
Dumbledore braved the flames to take hold of Potter with a blacked hand and spun to disapparate, taking the boy with him.
Yet not before a spell flew across the room, hitting the stunned Bellatrix and throwing her into the flames.
Unhampered, the inferno consumed all in its path, burning away centuries of history and dark artefacts with the fervour of a dying man.
Neville gagged as the sludge oozed down his throat, repressing the cough that threatened to throw out the offending potion. Sitting next to him, Susan put down the empty vial with the others and carefully helped him lie back on the bed.
"Easy now. It won't work if you don't let it settle."
"Easier said than done." The gravelly voice coming out of Neville's mouth sounded as strange to him as his burned throat felt. "This stuff is disgusting."
"It sure isn't Butterbeer, but it's either that or losing your vocal cords. And even with it, they might still not fully recover. You're lucky they didn't burn away completely after the mess these fumes did to your larynx." Unable to bear her scowl, Neville averted his eyes. "What were you thinking, going in there without your helmet?"
"Apparently I wasn't..."
Neville winced as he swallowed the last gulp of the potion, prompting another coughing fit. Ending up in the station's infirmary with a burnt throat and lungs was not exactly what he had envisioned when he had thought of joining the fight.
And he was not the only one either.
As the day had come to a close, the moon still hanging high above Britain, both sides had fallen back to lick their wounds, leaving the muggle authorities to deal with the consequences of the Death Eaters' rampage. The infirmary was packed, with new patients coming in as they returned from Earth, bringing with them news of what had transpired that day.
On the opposite side of the room from Neville's bed, Marietta was at her mother's bedside, holding her hand tightly as they whispered to each other. Next to them, Seamus was helping Healer Swansforth set Parvati on a bed and remove her armour. The left part of her face was caked in blood and most of her hair was missing, but Neville could still see her chest rise and fall with every breath she took.
Rare were those who had returned unarmed from the battle, yet their wounds had saved many lives. From the people Neville and his team had pulled out of the flames to the entire town Terry and his group had protected from a host of Dementors. After today, the tales of their exploits were etched into their bodies, uniting them in the blood they had shed.
And with every new arrival who did not bring news of an attack on St Mungo's, the fear coiled around Neville's heart loosened its grip.
"I had ... It was her, you know? Bellatrix." Susan froze when she heard the name. She knew, of course. Neville had told her himself months ago, while they still grieved the loss of their families in the dark corners of the ship. "When I saw her ... I lost my cool. I didn't care about the flames or the people trapped in the building. I just wanted to kill her. I needed to."
"Nev..."
"I tried. I really tried. I gave everything I had and she danced circles around me." His trembling hands grasped the bedsheets tightly as if it was the only thing that kept him grounded. "And when she left, I could have gone after her. But I ... I..."
Susan put a hand on his own, dousing the flaring embers of his rage as he released his grip.
"I didn't. I let her get away." The cold sensation of the potion was spreading through his throat, easing the pain and freeing his tongue. "My one chance and I let it slip away."
"Nev." Susan cupped his wet cheek with a hand, gently raising his head. "Look at me." She turned his hand around, interlacing her fingers with his own. "You did everything you could. More than that, you saved the lives of others."
"But I-"
"No buts." She stopped him, wiping away his tears with her thumb before taking his hand between hers. "You made the right choice. Going after her wouldn't have brought your grandmother back or healed your parents."
"No. It wouldn't. But at least I would have made sure she would never do something like that again."
"We'll stop her. We'll stop them all. But not by becoming as callous as them and sacrificing innocents. It's not what your parents would have wanted."
For a moment, they remained silent, drawing comfort from each other's presence. Until Susan looked away, her gaze lost in the distance. When she spoke again, her voice was barely more than a whisper, laced with regret.
"You know ... Before my aunt came in and killed those Werewolves to save me... We were going to kill them all ourselves."
"You could never do something like that."
"I could. I wanted to. Merlin I wanted to." She let go of his hand and started wringing them in her lap. "They were the enemy. The monsters who had taken my parents and my aunt. Had she arrived a few minutes later, we would have assembled all of the werewolves in one place and burned them to a crisp." She stopped abruptly and took a deep breath, steadying herself and chasing the anguish from her voice. "Yet when I saw her, completely indifferent as she stood in a street filled with dead bodies ... It was like a vision of the future. Of what I could become if I stayed on that path."
"And yet," Neville reached out and held her hand. "You didn't do it."
"No. I didn't."
"It's like you said. You saved their lives. Hell, you even saved the enemy. Who else would have done that? They're in prison, but they're alive and it's thanks to you."
"It's all so stupid..." She sighed, her shoulder dropping as the tension let her. "We're tearing each other apart over something that doesn't even matter. Who cares if someone's parents had magic? We need to stop. It all needs to stop."
"Well, that's why we fight. Sure, fighting isn't the best, but they're not really leaving us another choice."
On the other side of the room, the door slid open and Tracey Davis—from the recovery team—floated the unconscious body of Ginny Weasley to a bed. Whatever had happened to her had not been pretty, leaving her a mangled mess of flesh and metal, her chest barely moving when she breathed.
Susan stood up, steeling herself by giving one last squeeze to his hand as Healer Swansforth rushed to Ginny's side, calling for help.
"You gonna be ok?"
"Yeah..." Neville wiped away the last tears marring his cheeks and looked up at her, smiling. "Yeah, I will. Go save some lives."