Chapter 55
The Battle of Hogwarts
For a split second, he felt less.
Weak.
Incomplete.
His pale fingers tightened around the Elder Wand, his knuckles turning even whiter. Terrible pain ripped through his chest, opening a deep, terrible void inside him, as if a part of his very essence had been ripped away.
He felt vulnerable, human. His immortality, his perfection, was crumbling.
His lips curled into a snarl, fury boiling in his veins. Someone had found it. Someone had destroyed another fragment of his soul.
One of his Horcruxes. But which one?
He stared down at his vicious snake Nagini, slithering slowly between his feet. He will have to be more careful. He will have to protect her more.
Until then he had been posing as cold and calculating to his followers, dismissive of the threat posed by the Order and Potter. But now Lord Voldemort's anger was uncontainable.
He remained silent as Bellatrix, Yaxley, Dolohov and hundreds more hurled spells, curses and dark magic at the castle's defences. The night sky was lit with streaks of green, red and blue that reflected off the impenetrable shield. Sparks exploded on impact, but the barrier held firm. The Dark Lord's crimson eyes narrowed in distaste.
Enough.
The Dark Lord raised his wand, his skeletal fingers wrapping around the ancient wood. He had been eager to test its full strength. The moment had come.
Inhaling, Voldemort's magic surged like a storm within him, raw, untamed, absolute. With a violent movement and a deep cry that let out his pent-up rage, he unleashed a curse amplified beyond all comprehension.
The force of the curse was cataclysmic, splitting the earth beneath his feet as the magnitude of the spell sped forward, crashing into the magical barrier with a deafening crack.
For an instant, nothing happened.
Then the ground shook.
The protective wards trembled violently, their glow flickering like dying embers before they shattered, falling in a shower of light. The castle was now vulnerable. The Death Eaters gasped in reverence, praising their master's power, while Bellatrix let out a maniacal laugh.
But Voldemort did not share in their triumph.
He stared at the Elder Wand in his hand. The power had been undeniable, yes, but something was wrong. He had expected more, much more. The wand, despite being the most powerful ever created, had not given him the overwhelming supremacy he had craved. It was strong yes, but it was not his.
And then, the truth hit him like ice in his veins: The wand resisted him. He was not its true owner.
He had taken it from Dumbledore's grave, but he had not won it. He had not defeated the damned old man in battle. And wands, especially one as ancient and powerful as this one, had loyalties.
Voldemort's gaze darkened, his mind racing. If the wand had not answered him fully, then who was its true master?
And then, as if the answer had been lurking in the shadows of his mind all along, it became clear.
Severus Snape.
It was Snape who had killed Dumbledore.
And now, he was the one standing in his way of attaining invincibility.
Voldemort's grip on the Elder Wand tightened as a slow, cruel smile curved his lips.
He would have to find Snape. And he would take what was rightfully his.
• •
Damp wood, flaming torches, the sound of hundreds of distant voices, and the uneasy feeling that they were under siege. Ginny, Seamus, Neville, and Laurel crouched, preparing the charges they would plant to blow up the bridge. Below them, the deep ravine stretched endlessly.
"No, Neville, it's too unstable," —Laurel said gently, grabbing his wrist to stop him from adding Erumpent Horn directly to the mix. — "You can't just add it without diluting it first. You want to blow us up before we can even finish?
"She's right, mate," —Seamus added quickly. — "Come on, hand me that. I don't fancy blowing up this bridge with us still standing on it."
Neville blinked, his face flushing in embarrassment.
"Eh, I didn't know that, sorry," —he muttered, handing the flask to Seamus. — "I thought it might speed things up."
"Speed things up?" —Seamus said sarcastically. — "You really are hopeless for potions, aren't you?"
Ginny, who was crouching nearby, securing a package of explosives to the bridge railing, looked up with a smirk.
"Really, Neville, you'd think after all this time you'd know better than to mess with magical concoctions."
"Yeah, well, potions were never my strong suit." —Neville scratched the top of his head and smiled sheepishly. — "Let's just say I'm much better at growing the ingredients that will be added to make them."
Laurel studied him, frowning. After a moment, she turned to him.
"So how was Christmas?" —she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
"Pfff… I spent most of the holidays hiding from Snape and the Carrows. You know, after he punish me for the sword thing."
"What punishment?"
"It was nothing, really. They just shaved my hair off." —Neville shrugged, trying to downplay it. — "But Snape made it clear that he knew about the DA and who its members were. I didn't want to risk putting my friends in the Death Eaters' crosshairs, so I've been keeping a low profile. And I actually didn't have a bad time on Christmas Eve, the Elves let me spend the night in the kitchens. Good food and excellent pudding, I can't complain."
Laurel barely nodded, biting her lip as she thought about the days leading up to Christmas, of the time she'd spent with Neville, or rather, with the person she'd thought was Neville. The way he'd helped her with the Lupinaria potion, the way he'd seemed so different, so focused and confident.
She already knew it and now she just confirmed her suspicions.
It hadn't been Neville at all. It had been Severus, using the boy's hair to add to the Polyjuice Potion. That was why he'd been so skilful in helping her with the potion, why he acted so different from the Neville she knew. That was why he'd kissed her that Christmas Eve…
Laurel brought her fingers to her lips, remembering the warmth of his mouth. She felt dizzy and a little guilty as she recalled the crimson colour of the dragon's blood spread across the floor. Her stomach churned with confusion, a tangle of emotions threatening to spill over.
Severus had kissed her. Not only that, but he had also helped her, protected her.
Why?
Was it just another cruel manipulation, a twisted joke? Had he laughed about it afterwards? Had he returned to Voldemort's side, smugly bragging that he could still control her? Or was there something more?
"Laurel, what's wrong?"
Ginny's voice cut through the fog in her mind. She turned to see the redhead watching her intently, her brow furrowed in concern.
"You look like you've seen a ghost"
"I'm fine —Laurel said quickly, forcing a tight smile. —"Let's… let's just finish this."
Seamus smiled at Laurel's words, his eyes shining with dangerous excitement.
"That's what I like to hear," —he said, pulling out his wand. —"Everyone run. I'm about to make a mess."
Neville and Ginny hurried away as Seamus muttered the incantation, the tip of his wand glowing a deep red. The moment the spell ignited the first charge, a roar filled the air, the bridge creaking beneath their feet as the magical explosives took effect.
"Come on, come on, come on!" —Ginny shouted.
Laurel turned to follow them, but her eyes fell on something: the heavy battle axe she'd left leaning against the railing. She paused for only a second to grab it, but then the first explosion ripped through the bridge, sending splinters flying in all directions. Flames roared to life, licking at the wooden beams.
"Don't just stand there, RUN!" —Seamus shouted, running past her.
Laurel didn't need to be told twice. She ran after them, the weight of the axe throwing her off balance as the planks beneath her feet buckled and cracked. The bridge creaked in protest, swaying dangerously as a second explosion rocked the structure.
Laurel leapt forward just as the last set of charges detonated. A wave of heat hit her in the back as the bridge gave way and collapsed in a cascade of fire into the ravine below. She barely managed to scramble up onto solid ground and rolled into the grass as embers fell around her.
Breathless, she turned around and watched as the last of the burning remains disappeared into the abyss.
Seamus let out a cry of triumph.
"Now that was a bloody work of art!"
But his enthusiasm was cut short, a sudden cracking sound and cry of war
"Yeah, let's celebrate later,"— Ginny said, coughing and wiping soot from her robes. — "We have to get back to the castle."
Neville helped Laurel to her feet, giving her a quick once-over.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded, gripping the axe tighter in her hand, but then they felt a violent tremor as hundreds of hexes struck the magical barriers protecting Hogwarts, sending arcs of blue and gold energy crackling across the sky. For a moment, they thought the protective enchantments would hold, but then, with a final, shattering crash, the spells collapsed like glass shattering in slow motion.
The magical wards surrounding Hogwarts had fallen.
And then there was the sound that made Laurel's blood run cold.
A war cry.
An unholy cacophony of roars, screams, curses that was speeding toward the castle. Laurel could see them now: hooded figures emerging from all sides with wands raised, monstrous giants with a lethargic gait, grotesque acromantulas emerging from the darkness of the Forbidden Forest.
The Battle had begun.
• •
Sweet, warm, intoxicating.
Fenrir Greyback stood atop the hill, his unnatural blue eyes closed as he took a deep breath, sniffing the scent that had tortured him for months. Even beneath the acrid stench of fire and war, beneath the sweat and fear of the humans milling below, she was there. She was close.
His breath hitched, his mouth parted slightly as the scent washed over him like a drug: wild, untamed, but even as his obsession with Akardos kept him awake at night, something else stabbed at his heart: A cure. A potion that threatened his very existence. A remedy that could undo everything he'd built, designed to strip them of their power, to weaken them. And the traitor, the disgrace to his kind, Remus Lupin, was behind it all.
At first he thought it was just idle rumours, but slowly he realized it was a fact and knew immediately that the Soulless' blood must be the main ingredient. He had already noticed it in the change he had undergone after gorging himself on her blood at Malfoy Manor. He had hated his physical changes but what he hated most was that feeling of weakness that invaded him, as if something inside him was struggling to change, to heal.
A guttural growl rumbled in his chest. This time he would be more careful. He had been patient, watching from the shadows, waiting for the right moment to take what was his.
The others had caught her scent too; he could see it in the way her pack shifted restlessly, eyes flashing, tongues flicking over sharp teeth. They wanted her. Craved her. A murmur of excitement spread through them, some growling eagerly. One of the younger werewolves stepped forward, inhaling deeply and exhaling with a hungry growl.
"She smells delicious, if we all attack her at once maybe we can share…"
Before he could finish Greyback moved like a possessed beast, lunging at him and slamming him into the ground with crushing force. A sickening crunch echoed through the trees as the alpha's massive hand closed around his throat, ripping his neck apart. The murmurs among the pack ceased instantly at the sight of the youngest member thrashing around, choking on his own blood.
"She belongs to me," —he growled at the others, his voice harsh and possessive. —"I will rip the entrails out of anyone who dares touch her."
The others lowered their heads in submission, though he could still see the tension in their shoulders, the hunger in their eyes. It only made the fire inside him burn stronger.
His mind was a tangle of obsession, desire, and rage. He wanted to possess her, to feel her body beneath him, trembling, helpless. He didn't care that she'd already been used by Snape. He wanted her to understand that she was completely his, wanted to hear her scream, to feed completely off of her. But another part of him, one he barely recognized, wanted something entirely different.
He wanted her to choose to yield to him.
He wanted her to see him.
To whisper his name with something other than fear.
The thought made his stomach twist with fury. Greyback threw his head back, letting out a chilling howl that struck fear into even the most hardened of werewolves in his pack. That unnatural sound echoed throughout the vast grounds of Hogwarts.
She would never want him. She would never submit willingly. She had already betrayed him with her pathetic cure, with her alliance with Lupin, the traitor. She would rather be with the humans, with the weak, than accept what she was meant to be. His fucking queen.
And for that, he would have to kill her.
• •
The grounds of Hogwarts, now a battlefield, stretched out beneath him like a scene from a Bosch painting: flames devoured the rubble of what had once been the Quidditch pitch, flashes of curses tearing the lives of wizards and witches apart in less than a second. The moans of the wounded were drowned out by the roars of the giants as they smashed through the castle walls, but Severus Snape barely heard them.
He flew high above that hell, his black cloak whipped by the wind, his mind focused on a single mission. He had to reach Voldemort. He had to confirm the most important piece of information, the key to carrying out the order that Dumbledore had given him:
"Nagini. When Voldemort stops sending the snake to do his bidding, and starts keeping it beside him under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to pass the information on to Harry."
That was the moment. That was the moment Potter had to know the truth. And Snape was running out of time.
Severus took a deep breath as he scanned the ground, dark eyes narrowing. He needed to find Voldemort, to confirm where the snake was, to make sure the timing was right. The boy had to know the truth, but only when the time was perfect. One misstep, one premature revelation, and everything would fall apart.
Severus' lips curled in distaste. He would have to play the lapdog once more, kneeling before the Dark Lord and offering his loyalty. How many times had he done it? How many times had he forced himself to bow, to murmur empty words of praise, while every fibre of his being screamed for his death?
He would carefully approach his master, masking his intentions, gaining as much information as possible about Nagini's location and the Death Eaters' plans. And then he would sneak away, unnoticed, to make sure the boy knew what he was to do.
The boy… Harry. Harry would die.
Severus thought he had already accepted that terrible conclusion as the inevitable fate of the prophecy he had heard so many years ago. And yet, as the moment drew closer, a pain struck him in a way he had not expected. The boy, Lily's son, was going to walk to his own death. And he would not refuse. Snape had no doubt about that. Potter was too much like Lily, willing to throw himself in front of others, to sacrifice himself without hesitation.
Harry Potter had his mother's eyes and her same heart.
A lump formed in his throat, and strangely, amidst his sadness, a feeling of pride was born.
The boy was brave.
Severus exhaled and bowed sharply, turning away from the chaos below. He knew full well that Voldemort wouldn't lower himself to fight alongside the Death Eaters and mercenaries bearing down on Hogwarts. He looked towards Hogsmeade, thinking he would find him there, when a terrible howl echoed across the battlefield.
Long, guttural, inhuman. It belonged not to a beast, nor to a man, but to something caught between the two. The sound rose above the din of war. And then another howl joined in. And another.
The werewolves had arrived.
Severus felt a chill run down his spine.
Greyback.
The name alone was enough to turn his insides, but worse was the realisation that hit him immediately. He didn't need to see it. He knew why Greyback was howling.
He had found her trail.
The war, Voldemort, even Dumbledore's meticulously laid plans... it all vanished in an instant.
He whipped around; his face covered in cold sweat despite the freezing gale against his body, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Potter could wait.
Voldemort could wait.
Laurel was in danger, and he had to save her.
• •
Rubble and broken beams littered the floor, the walls and majestic columns were scarred with spell burns. The seventh floor of Hogwarts had become a war zone, and Laurel moved briskly through the chaos, dragging her axe with feigned determination. All around her, students fought desperately, their spells flashing in the dark corridor. She had to appear confident even though she felt fear pounding in her chest, because behind her, cowering and wide-eyed, were those who were too young or too injured to fight. The woman was trying to lead them to the Great Hall, where Madam Pomfrey could help them.
A green beam of light shot towards the group, but Laurel, who was on the defensive, moved quickly, placing herself between the beam of light and the children. The killing curse dissipated as it reached her body without causing any harm. The masked Death Eater stood there dumbfounded, his wand shaking in his hand.
That hesitation was all the students needed. Taking advantage of his surprise, they counterattacked and stunned the Death Eater before he could react.
"Go on, quickly! Stay together!" —Laurel shouted, turning to continue down the path, but then a deafening crash came from outside, followed by the sound of breaking glass.
A giant had slammed his club against the windows, shaking the foundations of the castle. The Akardos closed her eyes and threw herself to the ground, covering her head as shards of sharp glass fell. Pain shot through her arms, her shoulders, hot blood running down her skin. She took a deep breath and tried to get up. The cuts were not deep, but it didn't matter, because the moment the blood poured from her skin, she heard that long, guttural howl. And she could no longer hide her terror because she knew exactly who it was.
Greyback would find her.
She forced herself to move, scrambling through the rubble, trying to get out of the hallway without attracting the giant's attention. Her breathing was erratic, her legs shaking, but she couldn't stop.
Footsteps echoed near her.
"Laurel!"
Tonks appeared at the end of the hallway, dishevelled, her face streaked with dust and blood. She moved quickly, trying to steady her.
"Greyback's brought his entire pack. I need to hide you. Now."
But before she could take another step, icy laughter filled the air.
"I finally found you, bastard."
Bellatrix Lestrange emerged from the shadows, pointing her wand at Tonks, a maniacal grin on her lips.
"I will have the pleasure of wiping my family tree clean with you, you filthy half-blood. And next up will be that disgusting beast you bred with that werewolf."
Tonks raised her wand with dizzying speed, but Bellatrix laughed as she blocked the hex.
"Cru…!"
But before she could cast the Cruciatus, a bolt of red light streaked through the air.
"Expelliarmus!"
Remus Lupin appeared from the floor below, disarming Bellatrix and forcing her back.
"Go away!" he shouted, but Laurel didn't hear him.
Rage burned within her. Bellatrix had tormented her, tortured her, threatened her again and again. And now she was in front of her, helpless. A wild scream escaped her throat as she threw herself at Bellatrix with all her weight. She crashed into her with all her force, both of them falling into the rubble.
The two women rolled on the ground, clawing at each other, pulling at each other's hair and throwing punches. Laurel managed to get on top of her. Bellatrix screamed in rage, clawing at Laurel's face, but the Akardos responded with a severe blow that shattered her lip.
"You filthy bitch…" — Bellatrix hissed, trying to get her off of her.
"Laurel, we have to go! You have to hide! The werewolves will find you!" —Remus grabbed her by the waist, trying to push her away.
Laurel struggled against him, but then a green beam of light missed Remus' head by mere inches. Dolohov had appeared in the hallway, wand at the ready.
Tonks was quick to defend her husband. She spun around and fired a volley of spells at him. Dolohov cursed and staggered back under the attack. Then, with a sharp turn, he disappeared down the stairs, Tonks running after him.
Remus hesitated for a moment, his gaze going from Laurel to Tonks. He knew Laurel was in danger, but he couldn't leave Dora alone. Remus hesitated for only a second, before cursing under his breath and running after his beloved.
Laurel barely noticed his departure. Another set of howls filled the air, getting closer and closer. Bellatrix took advantage of the distraction to kick the Akardos in the stomach, making her fall to the ground.
Laurel gasped, struggling to catch her breath as Bellatrix stood up, vainly fixing her hair and picking up her wand.
"You're lucky," —she said, turning to Laurel. — "But luck won't save you from them."
Bellatrix let out her cold laugh again, her eyes flashing madly as she took in the wounds all over the woman's body.
"You know what the best part of all this is, Soulless One?" —she said as she ran her tongue along her broken lip, tasting her blood. — "I don't even have to kill you myself."
Bellatrix waved her hand, mockingly waving goodbye to Laurel, before disappearing into the darkness.
The woman struggled to her feet. The scent of her blood was everywhere, and the werewolves were closing in. She looked in all directions, trying to find a hiding place, but the only thing she saw was the axe half buried among the rubble. She grabbed it with shaking hands and ran at full speed down the stairs.