Chapter 35: The Fall
What had been silence had turned to whispers.
The Ministry was weak, vulnerable to attack. The Aurors weren’t capable of protecting the wizarding community. Death Eaters were lurking behind ever corner and in ever shadow. Some were even voicing regrets about the recession of the Sphinx Militia’s involvement in the war. Anybody fighting against Voldemort, anybody who could give them all a sense of security “ anything was better than this.
Since the grave announcement of the assassination attempt on Minister Bones, the student body of Hogwarts had been stirred. A few older students seemed rebellious about the abilities of the Ministry if they couldn’t even protect the Minister of Magic herself. Younger students had only grown more uneasy “ many of the first years seemed to look nauseous at all times.
Everyone in general felt that it was something to talk about, as discussion of horrible incidents is usually preferable to petrified silence.
And as for Harry, he felt trapped. The walls of the castle were protecting him, he knew, but they were keeping him from fulfilling the prophecy, and imprisoning the rest of his world in the fear which so constantly gripped them, and the violence and death that continued to tear apart their lives.
And worst of all, there had been no official warning about the possibility of the Death Eater’s new weapon. If the Ministry knew anything, they didn’t want to risk the opposition realising how much they had learned. So, Harry let himself be the source of rumours within Hogwarts, telling his closest friends first, and nudging them to tell others. He didn’t know how many people had heard it, nor did he know how many even believed it, but he felt it was the best he could do.
He threw himself into his lessons “ the ones that pertained to battles and dueling, at least. Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts were his top priorities, and while he had no interest in concocting potions, he found himself spending hours pouring over textbooks researching curative antidotes and strengthening brews. Even Professor Snape couldn’t give him low marks on the essays he had been turning in.
Ron and Hermione were there for him in the only ways they could be. Ron nicked food from the kitchens when Harry skipped dinner. Hermione brought a pillow and cover to him almost nightly where he passed out in the common room and cleaned ink from his face in the morning when he fell asleep on freshly written essay. And on days when he grew frustrated with himself for not doing enough, not learning fast enough, when he collapsed with misery, they comforted him with words of support or just a silent nearness. Whichever it was he needed.
Through their journal, Katie wrote him long letters daily, but Harry found that he had stopped writing back. He gave only what he could muster “ short messages of ‘I love you,’ and ‘I worry about you,’ and ‘I want to be in London, with you,’ “ as often as he could. It was what he felt, but he could only hope that it was enough to comfort her.
The days grew colder, and the grounds turned white from flurries of snow. Nobody ever had reason to go outside the castle anymore, but Harry did so often “ for a small sense of freedom, and to visit Hagrid and check in on Clarimonde. Sometimes he went with Ron and Hermione, but most often he slipped away when they were occupied with homework “ N.E.W.T’s were fast approaching and not even a war would distract Hermione from something of such grand academic importance.
One morning in early February, Harry woke up shivering in the morning chill. He’d overslept, as nobody was left in his dormitory, but found that he didn’t mind much. History of Magic had been on the timetable for that morning “ he could afford to miss a tedious lecture. Hermione had been going over famously duels and battles, and that was the only history he was finding useful these days, as it had practical worth to him.
He climbed unwillingly from his warm covers and quickly pulled some socks over his cold feet. He knew breakfast was over, but was consoled with the fact that the house-elves would be more than willing to give him food should he ask. Though, as he stood up he saw a trip to the kitchens was unnecessary “ a cup of tea, a stack of toast and a bowl of orange slices rested on a wooden table at the end of his bed, next to them a piece of lines paper with Ron’s rushed handwriting.
You looked like you needed a lie in “ hope this breakfast suits you. It’s charmed to stay warm until you wake. See you later.
Harry smiled and sat back down on his bed to eat his breakfast, glancing at his watch to see that he had a good half-hour before Charms. It was nice to relax for a moment, to breath. He had to fight the urge to lie back down in his covers and forget about getting up at all, but knew that he shouldn’t. And so, after finishing his breakfast, he stood up, his book bag slung over his shoulder, and headed towards Professor Flitwick’s classroom.
There was something stale about the cold air in the hallways, and Harry was feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the low temperature. His stomach was unsettled, but he didn’t suspect Ron of doing something funny to his tea, either.
But that’s the way it was nowadays “ there was always something creeping under his skin and alarming his suspicions. Harry actually grinned for a moment as the words of Alastor Moody rung clearly in his mind, ‘CONSTANT VIGILANCE.’
‘Harry!’
He turned to find Ron waving him down, Hermione was catching up with him looking annoyed. The three of them met in the middle of the hall.
“How’s Sleeping Beauty?” Ron asked with a grin.
“Well rested,” Harry answered, stretching a bit, before turning to Hermione who was standing with her arms crossed and her brows furrowed grumpily. “And what’s with you?”
“Nothing…” she said, heaving a frustrated sigh.
Ron rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘Blaise.’
“We’re not even really… ‘together’,” she said irately. “Why does it matter if I spend time with Ron?”
“With me?” Ron said, choking on his words. “Is that what he was in a huff about?”
“He’s being foolish,” Hermione continued. “I mean “ yes, we used to be together “ but now we’re just… well, we… we’re not…”
She trailed off and looked purposely away from the tall red-head. Harry wasn’t sure whether to politely avert his eyes or watch them as they finally realised how stupid they were being.
“We’re not what?” Ron asked accusatorily “ though there was softness in his voice. And a slight desperation.
“Never mind,” Hermione sighed. “Let’s go to class.”
Ron fell obediently silent but spent the first half of class looking depressed. Harry tried to focus his attention on the Wind Charm they were being instructed on, but his friends were distracting him. Not only was Ron utterly miserable, but Hermione looked like she was trying too hard to pay attention “ and in the back corner of the room, Harry saw Siobhan who wasn’t even pretending to care. He had noticed she had been very withdrawn since the end of holidays “ Ron was the only person she seemed to open up to nowadays. And even that was on rare occasion.
Harry refocused just as Flitwick asked them to take out their wands and try it themselves. Hermione quickly pointed her wand at a textbook and whispered the incantation, and a gust of air swirled about the room, focusing on her chosen object and whipping it in to the air and out threw the window.
Professor Flitwick clapped excitedly as Hermione quickly Summoned the textbook back.
“Excellent, excellent Miss Granger!” he exclaimed. “Perfect control! Just wonderful…”
Hermione smiled weakly, and did not even try again. Harry set about trying but had no real success. He suspected that the sensation of moving air he was feeling was only the collective vain attempts of students trying to enhance the effect of their spells by blowing at their targets.
“Harry “ you’re not saying the incantation correctly.”
“You haven’t changed at all since first year, have you?” Harry asked with a grin. Hermione ignored his comment and further instructed him.
“It should… be hushed. It should flow, almost like the wind itself.” She took out her wand to demonstrate again, but as she pointed her wand and let the spell pass from her lips, nothing happened.
“That’s new,” Ron said with a smirk.
Hermione stared at her wand, puzzled, as though someone had replaced it with an ordinary stick while she wasn’t looking, and she tried again.
Again, nothing happened.
Harry looked around “ nothing was moving. Nobody was casting any Wind Charms. His stomach twisted in fear.
“That’s odd…” Hermione said, perplexed.
Now there was a sound of air rushing past Harry’s ears, but he knew it wasn’t a Wind Charm. It was the sound of panic. He lifted his wand above a scrap of parchment, fearing the worst, and muttered something simple…
“Wingardium Leviosa.”
Swish-and-flick.
Nothing.
His stomach no longer felt knotted; it had fallen right through his body. He could almost feel the lack of magic in the air. Harry had never before realised how tangible it was, but now that it was gone, its absence was as obvious as a scarcity of oxygen.
“Professor Flitwick “ an AMP has been set off,” he said mechanically.
His words rang in a tense silence, and he knew in that moment his warnings had reached the ears of at least everyone in that particular classroom. They were all frozen in fear.
“Everyone “ grab the closest thing you can find to a weapon,” Flitwick squeaked, his small voice filled with horror. “Mr Finnigan “ bolt the door. We are to stay in this classroom until we get instructions otherwise from Professor Dumbledore.”
“How is he supposed to “ “ Hermione began, but paused when she saw the small black device gripped in the dwarfed professor’s hand. “Is that a walkie talkie?”
“Precisely, Miss Granger,” Professor Flitwick replied.
“If there’s no magic in the building, electricity will work,” Harry said quietly, feeling a surge of respect for Dumbledore’s cleverness.
“But “ if everybody’s locked in their classrooms…?” Ron asked. “The Death Eaters “ they have to be here… who’s going to fight them?”
“Dumbledore has a plan, Mr Weasley,” Flitwick said with a sigh. “I regret to say I don’t think we’ll be asked to remain here much longer. But until we know what we’re up against, its better the students are protected behind locked doors than out trying to make a run for the Entrance Hall.”
“I don’t want to stay in here,” Harry said. “I shouldn’t be locked up.”
“Mr Potter, Professor Dumbledore gave specific instructions,” Flitwick said sympathetically. “ “ all students need to remain “ ”
“I am not just one of the students. I am part of this.”
Everyone in the room watched him, entranced and curious, gripping their ‘weapons’ anxiously and looking fearful.
“We are all part of this, Harry,” Hermione said firmly. “It’s our war, too. And if anything, you can’t afford to get hurt by a group of worthless Death Eaters. Not when there’s Voldemort to worry about”
“You don’t think they have it in their plan to pick me up and bring me back to Voldemort, then?”
“Of course they’re planning it!” Ron cut in. “Which is exactly why you need to stay the bloody hell out of it.”
Harry glared at the pair of them. He knew what they were saying made sense, but he couldn’t imagine how it was fair to anyone that he should be locked away in a secure classroom when other people were preparing to fight a battle and sacrifice themselves to protect him.
A hand laid itself upon him, and he turned to see Siobhan looking at him intently. There was something soothing in the calm of her light green eyes as she spoke softly to him.
“Potter “ it would be very noble of you to run off to battle and risk your life for the cause, but it would be selfish. Too many people care about you, and need you to live,” she paused a moment and then added with a smirk. “I don’t think Katie would ever forgive you…”
Harry resigned himself to silence and took a seat.
“We don’t even know if anything’s happened, yet…” Seamus said.
“But it will,” Harry replied, and his words were echoed with a loud explosion somewhere outside.
Hermione started and clutched Harry’s arm.
Another explosion “ and the castle shook.
“What the hell is that?” Ron asked, his eyes wide with fear.
“”fessor Flit”ck,” a raspy, static-filled sound came from the black device in the Professor’s hand. “You may “ lease the students “ this time.”
Everyone stared at the radio in a confused state of terror. It wasn’t entirely clear if they were missing a very important word in the static.
“Professor Fl”ick, You may relea”the students at this time.”
This time the message was significantly clearer.
“Okay, then,” Flitwick piped, running up to the door. “Arm yourselves “ be very, very careful. Remember there is no magic. Dumbledore instructed that, when he sends the message, students are to make their way to the Entrance Hall and out of the castle. You get out of the castle, and you run to Hogsmeade, you arm yourselves with your wands, and you keep going until you can use magic. You all have your Apparating Licenses “ you will Apparate once you are back in magical air, but no sooner. If you Apparate before you get out of the AMP’s range, you’ll be splinched. There will be wizards and witches summoned to assist the younger students, so don’t worry about them.”
He took a deep breath before unbolting the door and opening it for them.
“Now, run!”
They took off down the corridor, and were soon met with masses of other students. He saw the changing staircases filled with classmates, all trying to make their way down to the ground floor. He didn’t see any Death Eaters, or any signs of a violent battle. He felt a small hope that they’d been caught and chained up and locked away in a room “
BANG.
There was a torn yell of pain from below, and several people screamed.
“Keep moving!” a voice bellowed, and Harry recognised it as Snape’s. And he moved down further down he saw that something was indeed going on. The Entrance Hall door was smoldering and crumbling as if it had been blown open by a very powerful cannon. A few professors and Order members had moved forced off a team of Death Eaters into the Great Hall so that the students could pass out of the castle. Harry saw Death Eaters fighting to get past the line of wizards and witches to the students “ and he could see crumpled bodies on the floor.
“Potter “ keep moving…” Snape hissed, catching up to him.
But Harry could not obey him. He stood frozen at the picture of a Muggle battle.
BANG.
The bangs were the sounds of Hagrid’s huge sledgehammer of a weapon hitting against the stone floor and walls so that others could pick them up and throw them at the enemy -- Hagrid tossing people aside when he wasn’t busy chipping away pieces of the castle. In the ranks of the stone throwers he caught sight of mousy brown hair framing the face of Nymphadora Tonks, and beside her the bright red of Charlie and Bill Weasley. In the thick of the battle, he saw the gleaming silver of a sword and the swishing purple robes of Dumbledore himself. A magnificent shield was protecting him from the attacks of Death Eaters who had brought an arsenal of daggers, arrows and swords.
He watched as Remus Lupin ran inside, grasping the sword from the hold of a nearby suit of armor and rushed to the aide of his fellow soldiers, quickly slicing through the air and into the flesh of a black cloaked enemy. Blood poured from the Death Eater’s wound as he fell to the ground in a horrifying scream.
“Harry…” Hermione pleaded, and she tugged him. He tried to run, but there was a horrible feeling inside him. As though he was abandoning family, friends and protectors. He knew Ron, Hermione and Siobhan were right “ he could not fight this battle. But it felt not only difficult, but wrong to run away from it.
And then Harry saw something that made him scream.
A swish of a purple robe was cloaked in the deep red of blood as it fell to the demolished stone flooring of the Great Hall.
A shield fell with a clang to the ground and resonated shrilly as it was followed by the metallic clash of a sword.
Shining white hair…
..the thin body of an old man…
Thud.
“NO!”
“Potter!” Snape hissed.
“DUMBLEDORE!”