Harry Wayne and the Batman of Hogwarts

Chapter 44- A Battle For the Soul of Hogwarts

Bane lunged forward with terrifying speed, his massive fists swinging like wrecking balls.

Neville, now radiating ancient power, sidestepped the blow with inhuman grace. As Bane's punch shattered the stone floor, Neville twisted mid-air and brought the golden Sword of Azrael slicing across Bane's arm.

A deep gash burned across Bane's thick skin, the magic-infused blade cutting deeper than any ordinary weapon. Bane roared in pain, clutching his wound.

But Neville wasn't finished.

He spun, kicking Bane in the chest with newfound strength, sending the behemoth stumbling backward. Bane growled, eyes burning with rage, then rushed forward again.

Neville dodged under another swing, slashing at Bane's side and searing through his armor. Sparks of golden energy crackled from the wound as Bane howled in fury.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Harvey stood back to back, surrounded.

Lady Bellatrix twirled her wand, grinning. "This will be fun."

Professor Pyg let out a deranged snort, brandishing his bloodstained cleaver. "Time to carve up some art."

Deadshot cocked his wrist-mounted pistols, the targeting reticles glowing red. "No way out, kids."

Hermione acted first. She flicked her wand—"Expelliarmus!"

A pulse of red magic blasted toward Bellatrix, but the witch countered effortlessly, sending a jet of green light hurtling back. Hermione rolled away, narrowly dodging the curse.

Harvey swung his wand in a wide arc— "Protego Maxima!"

A shimmering golden shield formed around them just as Deadshot fired. Bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the magical barrier.

Professor Pyg charged forward, cleaver raised, but Hermione met him head-on—"Stupefy!"

The stunning spell hit Pyg in the chest, sending him crashing into a bookshelf.

Deadshot leapt back, taking aim at Hermione.

Harvey stepped in front of her—"Confringo!"

A blast of fire erupted from his wand, forcing Deadshot to somersault away.

Bellatrix cackled wildly. "Oh, this is simply delightful!"

She twirled her wand, summoning a storm of violet flames, hurling them toward Hermione and Harvey.

Just as the flames rushed toward them—

A blade of dark energy sliced through the firestorm, dispersing it instantly.

The room shuddered as a new presence entered the battle.

Sionis Black.

He strode into the chamber, his dark robes billowing. His cold, piercing eyes locked onto Bellatrix.

"Three against two?" he mocked. "That hardly seems fair."

Bellatrix's grin faltered. "Black..."

Sionis raised his wand, twirling it with deadly precision. "Let's make it fair."

Suddenly—

A ghostly blue light filled the chamber.

Neville felt his breath hitch as another figure materialized beside Sionis.

Frank Longbottom.

Neville's father, draped in ancient spectral armor, his eyes glowing with ethereal power.

Ra's al Ghul narrowed his gaze.

"So... you return from the grave."

Frank smirked. "You didn't think I'd let my son fight alone, did you?"

Ra's began to shift. His form morphed into a swirling black mist, his eyes glowing green like spectral fire.

Frank mirrored him, becoming a ghostly warrior, crackling with blue lightning.

Then—

The two spirits clashed in mid-air.

The chamber darkened as their battle unfolded.

They swirled through the air, spectral smoke twisting violently. The dark clouds screamed and roared, their energy sending lightning bolts crashing through the Ministry walls.

Ra's struck first, unleashing a torrent of shadowy energy.

Frank countered with a spectral blade, slicing through the darkness.

The two spirits collided, their forms twisting together like battling hurricanes, their screams echoing through the hall.

Meanwhile, as Sionis fought alongside Neville, attempting to cut down their enemy with powerful spells—

Bellatrix slipped through the chaos, her wand glowing with deathly fire.

She thrust her wand forward.

A searing firebolt shot out, aimed directly at Neville. Sionis quickly pushed Neville out of harm's way as the firebolt hurled toward him, leaving Sionis vulnerable to the attack.

The bolt struck Sionis directly in his chest.

Sionis let out a choked gasp as flames engulfed his body.

He collapsed.

Neville's eyes widened in horror.

"NO!"

Sionis struggled to lift his head. His hand weakly gripped Neville's wrist.

"Neville..." he whispered. "Use the rage of Azrael... for good..."

Then—

He faded away.

Neville's breath came ragged. His fists clenched. His body trembled with fury.

Neville turned to Bellatrix.

His glowing aura intensified.

Bellatrix smirked, but there was hesitation in her eyes. "What's wrong, little Longbottom? You look upset."

Neville moved like lightning.

Before Bellatrix could react, he was upon her.

His golden sword slashed down—she barely dodged, the blade slicing clean through the air where her head had been.

Bellatrix fired a Killing Curse—

Neville twisted mid-air, dodging the green light with ease.

He landed behind her.

With a burst of speed, he whipped around, his sword slicing through her wand.

The shattered remains fell to the ground.

Bellatrix stumbled backward, her confidence finally faltering.

Neville raised his glowing blade.

Bellatrix snarled, summoning a dagger from her cloak, lunging at him.

Neville caught her wrist mid-strike, twisting it. The dagger clattered to the floor.

With a final surge of fury—

Neville thrust the Sword of Azrael forward.

A shockwave of golden energy erupted from the blade, sending Bellatrix flying across the room.

She crashed against a column, crumpling to the ground, unconscious.

Neville barely had time to react as Bane rejoined the fight.

Bane's massive fist collided with his chest, sending shockwaves of pain through his body. The impact lifted Neville off the ground and hurled him backward, slamming him through another pillar. The ancient stone exploded into rubble, dust and debris filling the air.

Neville coughed, staggering to his feet, but Bane was already on him.

With inhuman speed, Bane grabbed Neville by the throat, hoisting him high into the air.

"You think a glowing sword makes you invincible, boy?" Bane growled, his voice like thunder. "I am power incarnate!"

Neville struggled, his hands clawing at Bane's grip as he gasped for air. The ancient magic in his body flickered, his aura dimming under Bane's sheer brute strength.

Then—Bane pulled back his free arm.

With bone-shattering force, he slammed his fist into Neville's ribs.

CRACK!

Neville's body convulsed as pain tore through him. Bane punched again. And again. Each blow felt like being hit by a wrecking ball.

Blood trickled from Neville's mouth. His vision blurred. The Sword of Azrael trembled in his grip.

"Your power means nothing!" Bane roared.

He threw Neville down with brutal force, shattering the marble floor beneath him.

Neville cried out in pain, his body barely responding. His vision darkened—but through the haze, he saw something.

Sionis's final gaze. His last words.

"Use the rage of Azrael for good..."

Neville gritted his teeth, forcing himself up on one knee.

Bane sneered. "Stay down, Longbottom. You are broken."

But then—Neville's aura ignited.

His body surged with power, golden light bursting from his wounds, sealing them with divine energy.

His eyes blazed like twin suns. The Sword of Azrael pulsed in his grip.

Bane took a step back. "What—"

Neville vanished.

In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind Bane.

Bane barely had time to turn before—Neville slashed.

The golden blade carved across Bane's back, sending a shockwave of burning energy searing through his body.

Bane bellowed in agony.

Neville didn't stop. He spun, delivering a crushing kick to Bane's knee. The brute staggered, roaring in fury, swinging wildly.

Neville dodged each strike with supernatural precision.

Then, in a single blinding moment—

Neville leapt into the air, flipping over Bane's head.

As he came down, he drove the Sword of Azrael straight into Bane's chest.

A golden explosion erupted from the impact, engulfing Bane in divine fire.

Bane screamed, falling to his knees, his monstrous form shaking.

Neville stood over him, his breath heavy, his sword still burning.

"Your time is over," Neville said.

With one final surge of energy—he ripped the sword free.

Bane let out a final, deafening roar before collapsing into unconsciousness.

The room fell silent.

Neville staggered, his aura fading as exhaustion took over.

Just as Neville's aura faded completely, he stood over Bane's unconscious body, his chest rising and falling with exhaustion. His grip tightened around the Sword of Azrael as he knelt beside the fallen brute. The memory of his father's brutal death at Bane's hands burned in his mind. This was his chance—his chance to finally avenge his father.

He raised the sword. Just then—

"NEVILLE, STOP!"

Dumbledore's voice rang through the chamber like a thunderclap, full of urgency and command. Neville froze, the blade hovering inches above Bane's throat. His breath hitched, his hands trembled.

Dumbledore stepped forward, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield. He saw Hermione and Harvey still locked in combat—Hermione barely dodging a barrage of bullets from Deadshot, Harvey fending off Professor Pyg's swinging cleaver with every spell he could muster. The entire Ministry was in chaos.

Then, from across the chamber, Ra's al Ghul took notice of Dumbledore.

Leaving his duel with Frank Longbottom's ghost, he vanished into a blur of shadows, reappearing before Dumbledore in an instant. Their eyes met, two legendary warriors of magic, both knowing only one could leave victorious.

With a sharp slash of his arm, Ra's conjured a wave of black fire, forcing Dumbledore to leap back and counter with a swirling gust of wind. The two clashed in a dazzling display of elemental sorcery—fire against water, light against shadow, ancient spells shaking the very foundation of the Ministry.

Neville could barely stand, let alone fight. His vision blurred, his arms heavy. He could only watch.

Dumbledore pressed forward, his spellwork precise and overpowering. Ra's, weakened and not yet at full strength, struggled to keep up. He was losing.

Realizing this, Ra's turned his gaze to Neville—bruised, battered, vulnerable.

And then, with a flicker of shadow—he vanished.

Neville barely had time to react before a cold, invisible force invaded his mind.

His body stiffened. His lungs burned. His own consciousness shrieked as it was shoved aside, replaced by something darker—Ra's al Ghul.

"Strike me down!" Ra's al Ghul's voice echoed from Neville's throat, distorted, unnatural.

Dumbledore's wand lowered slightly, but his stance remained firm. He knew killing Neville was not an option. Instead, his calm but commanding voice cut through the room.

"Fight him, Neville!"

Inside his own mind, Neville felt himself trapped in a void of darkness, his thoughts fracturing as Ra's seized control. His limbs moved against his will, his hands curling around the sword once more. His rage, his grief—Ra's fed on it, twisted it, made it his weapon.

"You are weak," Ra's al Ghul's voice whispered in his mind. "You have always been weak. Let me show you true strength."

Neville screamed in frustration, struggling, but it felt impossible. The more he fought, the stronger Ra's grip became.

Then—a voice.

Laughter.

Not cruel laughter, but warm. Familiar. A memory.

A young Neville running through the fields with his father, Frank Longbottom, playfully chasing him. His father's smile. The way he always believed in him, even when Neville doubted himself.

And then—a realization.

His rage was his weakness. It wasn't power—it was a shackle, the very thing giving Ra's control.

He took a deep breath. Let go.

And just like that—Ra's al Ghul SCREAMED.

A shockwave of golden light exploded from Neville's chest as Ra's was violently ejected, his spirit ripping free from Neville's body and materializing a few feet away, gasping, enraged.

At that moment, Lady Bellatrix stirred, regaining consciousness. She saw Ra's weakened, panting, vulnerable. Her sharp mind assessed the situation in seconds.

"We must go!" she hissed to the others.

Deadshot and Professor Pyg nodded, realizing they were outmatched. Without hesitation, the three vanished into plumes of dark smoke, spiraling toward the massive fireplace at the chamber's end.

Ra's clenched his fists, glaring at Dumbledore.

"This is not over," he vowed, his voice dripping with venom.

Then, he too turned to leave—

But before he could step into the fire, a new presence filled the room.

A flock of white feathers drifted through the air. The Order of the Owls had arrived.

A dozen mystical figures in white robes appeared, their golden masks glinting under the dim Ministry lights. They had come not on rumor, but on undeniable truth—they had seen it for themselves.

"Ra's al Ghul has returned," one of them whispered.

Even among them, fear spread.

Ra's glared at them all, his expression unreadable. Then, he turned his gaze to the broken, beaten body of Bane.

The monstrous man, barely conscious, reached out a trembling hand.

"Master... take me with you..." Bane begged, his voice weak, desperate.

Ra's looked down at him.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then—he turned away.

Without a second glance, he stepped into the roaring fire and vanished, leaving Bane to his fate.

Neville watched as the flames died down, Ra's presence fading from the chamber. He looked at Dumbledore, then at the Order of the Owls. The battle was over—for now.

But the war was only beginning.

To be continued…