Faith: Chapter Forty-Four Part One
Chapter 44: The Siege of Hogwarts Part One
The tension in the Great Hall was thick enough to cut. Students trickled into the Hall in small groups, their eyes sweeping over the Slytherin table and then ducking behind raised hands, their hushed murmurs creating a virtual sea of noise that swept over the Hall.
Ginny sat rigid in her seat, her back straight and unbending even as gaze after malicious gaze swept over the empty seats near her. Pansy laid a soft hand over her clenched fist, a forced smile plastered on her face. “They’ll be fine, Ginny.”
The younger witch nodded, the movement jerky and forced. “Of course they will.”
“Where’re Corner and Weasley?” Millicent leaned forward in her seat, her dark eyes sharp.
Pansy’s head whipped around. She looked towards the Gryffindor table, then the Ravenclaw. Neither boy was in attendance. “That is a very good question.”
Ginny frowned, her eyes scanning the large Hall. Fred and George were sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table with their mother, father and brothers. Charlie met her gaze with a worried frown of his own. She pursed her lips and shook her head, letting her gaze slip down to where Seamus sat. The Irish boy looked pale and drawn.
“If they’re not here…” Millicent let the sentence trail off.
“There must be another reason for them not showing up.” Ginny let her hands fall into her lap and fist into her robes. “As much as I despise Ron, I know that he would never turn to the Dark Lord. He’s too bloody blind.”
“But Corner…” Pansy drew in a sharp breath, the air whistling between her teeth. “Weasley would be an easy mark to manipulate, don’t you think?”
“If Corner was one of them…” Ginny swallowed hard and pushed away the twisting sensation in her stomach. “Then yes. There’s a possibility that Ron’s done something stupid yet again.”
Their gazes were drawn to a sudden commotion at the Gryffindor table. Molly Weasley had stood, as had Arthur, and was attempting to make her way to the door. Ginny leaned forward in her seat.
“…out there!” The portly woman’s rising howl silenced the large hall.
“Molly, we don’t know that.” Arthur had an arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“Of course we do! They’re out there! With You-Know-Who! One of them -,” she flung her hand in the direction of the Slytherin table. “Have done something to him! I know it Arthur, I can feel it. My baby is in trouble and I’m not going to just sit here and let him get killed!”
“Molly!” Arthur forced her around and gripped her shoulders. He shook her hard. “The. Wards. Are. Up. We cannot go out.”
“But Ron -,” Tears spilled and made shiny tracks on her skin.
“I know.” Arthur drew her close. “I know. We must have faith that he’ll be alright. Ron’s a smart boy. He’ll be fine.”
Ginny fought back a rush of tears and tore her gaze away from the two adults. She eyed the large wooden doors of the Hall. They were shut, the heavy crossbar bolted and the shining runes in place. Her hands unclenched from her robes as a sudden thought hit her.
“Those doors aren’t the only way out of the castle.” She blinked and turned to Pansy. “Right?”
The blond nodded. “There are a few other smaller doors, yes.”
“And they’ve been warded too?”
“Yes.” Pansy tilted her head and studied the younger girl, her eyes sharp. “Why?”
“If we needed to get out,” Ginny dropped her voice to a whisper. “Then we’d need to use one of the side doors, right?”
Pansy’s eyes glittered. “Smart girl.” She abruptly leaned forward and kissed Ginny on the cheek, making the younger girl flush. She then turned to Millicent and leaned close, her hissing whisper unintelligible even to Ginny.
The larger girl bowed her head and pressed her lips into a thin line. She nodded and took up her napkin, wiped her lips with dainty movements, and then stood. Not bothering to look back at her housemates, she made her way for the side door that led to the bathrooms near the Great Hall.
Ginny tracked Millicent’s movements and then turned back to Pansy. “Where is she going?”
“Out.” Pansy pushed her plate away and reached for her cup. “We can’t all stampede for the exit…”
The windows of the Great Hall shook, the noise deafening in its intensity. Pansy dropped her cup on the table, ignoring the spill of pumpkin juice dripping onto her robes and reached for Ginny, grabbing the younger girl and pushing her down.
The roar of Wild Magic swept through the room, whipping napkins from tables and knocking over pitches of water and juice. Screams filled the air as the students dove for cover, diving under the tables in an attempt to hide.
The first crack had everyone holding their breath. Then the tinkling sound of hundreds of panes of glass shattering filled the air. Those tables closest to the side windows were began to be showered with large chunks of multicolored glass.
Pansy slid off the bench and pulled Ginny with her. A large gash marred the petite blonde’s cheek. Ginny bit back a whimper as she cradled her left hand to her chest, where several shards were imbedded.
“Pansy? Ginny?” Neville’s face appeared out of the darkness. He was also covered in scratches. He stopped and looked at the girls. “Are you alright?”
“We’re alright. Ginny’s hurt though.” Pansy pushed the younger girl at him. Ginny spared her a glare.
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“Let me look at it,” Neville smiled at her. Blaise appeared behind him, scooting around the sandy haired boy and moving past the two girls.
“Where’s Blaise going?” Ginny swore as Neville picked the pieces of glass from her skin.
“He’s doing a head count.”
“Millie went out into the hall. She’s not here.” Pansy crawled after the other boy, yelping once as her palm was slashed open by a shard of glass.
“There.” Neville wound a handkerchief around Ginny’s hand and tied it tight. “That’ll have to do.”
Ginny threw her arms around his neck. “Thanks Neville.”
He patted her awkwardly on the back. “You’re very welcome.”
A body diving under the table knocked into them, sending both Ginny and Neville sprawling. The younger witch sat up with a hex ready on her lips, her wand slipping into her hand with ease.
Seamus’ pale and bloody face greeted her. “Seamus?” Ginny frowned.
“Where’s Sasha?”
“I don’t know…she was down at the far end of the table…”
“Seamus!” The sharp voice cut through the dying screams. “You bloody, irritating Gryffindor! Where are you?”
Seamus’ face lit up into a fierce grin as he scampered away, dodging past other Slytherin students.
A second wave rushed through the Hall just as Seamus’ form faded from view. Ginny ducked, her arms going around her head. A fresh wave of glass hit the top of the table, making everyone flinch.
“Cover your eyes!” Neville yelled, curling his arms around Ginny. “Shut them tight!”
Ginny pushed her hands against her ears and closed her eyes. The table groaned as large, heavy objects began to rain down on it. She could hear the screams from the other students, and above the din, she thought she could hear the Headmaster shouting orders. Flying debris struck them as it landed on the floor, shattering on impact. She hid her face in Neville’s robes, even as he shielded his eyes against her shoulder. We’ve got to get out of here. She shook as a heavy, fleshy body collapsed in the aisle near them. Oh Merlin help us please…
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Harry stumbled through the underbrush, batting away strands of cobwebs and greedy tree branches. The skin on the back of his neck crawled - Voldemort was in the forest, he knew it.
A rising howl made him trip over his own feet. Movement through the brush spurred him on, fighting through the thick bushes and sprinting across the clearings as fast as he could. But his already weakened body was fast running out of energy, and the muscles in his legs were starting to tremble with exhaustion.
The howls came again, from behind him now. They were on his scent. Harry stumbled to a stop next to a large tree and leaned against it, panting. He knew he couldn’t out run them. He turned and cast about for some type of weapon. “C’mon, there has to be something here…”
The snarling growl made him freeze. He looked up through his bangs and shuddered. The wolves ranged out in front of him in a half circle and all of them had their eyes trained on Harry’s every movement.
The dark haired boy closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them and drew in a shaky breath. He backed up one step, only to stop when one of the animals lunged towards him. He glanced past the predators, deeper into the forest. He was running out of time.
A thought came to him as he glanced around the forest. His eyes narrowed and he shifted his stance, holding his hands out to his side, palms facing outward. He licked dry lips and hoped he had enough time.
“Fionn mac Cumhail,” his voice was little more than a dusty whisper. “Warrior, poet and fellow wizard I call your names. Fionn mac Cumhail, Finn mac Cumhail, leader of the Feine and the Fianna I call you here.” Harry’s back hit the rough bark of the tree behind him. The wolves were starting to close in. “I call you here.” He fumbled for a branch on the ground and held it in front of himself. “I call you here.”
Magic shuddered through the night, racing up Harry’s spine and spilling a gasp from his throat. The wolves went low, their eyes rolling in their heads. Harry took the momentary distraction to slip around the side of the tree in an attempt to flee.
Large paws landed on his shoulders, and rotten, decaying breath washed past his face, making Harry gag. He tried to bring his arms up to shield his face and throat. Wet, thick saliva dripped onto his skin and the dull pressure of the creature’s canines were just beginning to press down onto the thin skin of his throat when the wolf was ripped away.
Harry sat up with a gasp. A tall body stood over him, the young man’s green cloak swirling through the mist. A familiar face peeked over a shoulder and winked at him. “No giants this time, eh?”
Harry blinked. “I think they’re with the rest of Voldemort’s army.”
“Ah,” Fionn mac Cumhail nodded. “It will be a good fight then.” Both of their heads came up at the eerie howl that echoed through the forest. Fionn’s face drew down into tight lines. “The Cwn Annwn.”
Harry scrambled to his feet, turning in a fast circle, but nothing looked familiar. “I have to go. I have to get to the castle. They’re not safe.”
“Boy,” Fionn ignored the creeping predators and laid a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder. “Go that way.” He turned Harry and gave him a push. “Don’t look back and don’t stop, not for anything, do you hear?”
Harry looked back and nodded. “I hear.”
“Good.” A smile lit the young man’s face. “It is good to be back, Harry son of James. Perhaps we shall meet again.” The legendary hero saluted him with his sword and turned back to the snapping wolves. “Now for you lot…”
Harry stumbled forward, wincing at the sound of the battle behind him, but did not look back.
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“Albus!”
“Severus!”
The Potions Master pushed his way through the mess of the Great Hall, his wand holding a shielding spell over his head. He waded through the shattered glass, his robes catching and ripping against large shards that had become imbedded in the wood.
Pushing back the bloody body of Professor Trelawny, he found the Headmaster. The older wizard appeared dazed, and had a large gash on his face. “Albus,” Severus pushed his spell to envelope them both. “Albus.”
The Headmaster blinked, a modicum of sense returning to his eyes. “Severus.” He tried to stand and made it to his feet on the third attempt. “The children?”
“We have to get you out of here.” Severus pulled on the man’s arm.
“No. We have to protect the children.” Albus pulled away and drew his wand. Blue eyes studied the ceiling. There were creatures perched in the frames of the shattered windows. Filthy rags fluttered around their bodies and deep hoods hid their faces, save for the glowing yellow eyes that peered from the dark.
“Abnego ingressus!” The refusal of entry rolled off the older wizard’s tongue and echoed through the hall.
Hissing laughter rained down on them. “By blood and by bone we come. Your spell has no hold on us.”
Albus bit back a curse and looked down the long aisles. Bodies of dead and wounded children littered the ground - as well as several rag-covered bodies.
“The hags must have killed their weakest and thrown them through the windows.” Severus stepped up next to him.
“Yes.” Albus’ grip on his wand was tight. “Get the rest of the teachers. Get the children out. Now.”
Severus nodded and hurried away. Albus rested one hand on the frizzy hair of his Astrology professor, and then moved her out of the way with a quiet apology. Her body tumbled to the ground, her glasses sliding from her face.
“Headmaster.” Albus grunted as he climbed up onto his chair and then stepped up onto the long table. He looked down at his Defense professor. Her hair was hanging about her shoulders, and a cut ran the length of her face, but her eyes were sharp and clear. “You will need help.”
Albus nodded, but did not watch her climb onto the table. Instead he turned his eyes to the ceiling, and took a dueling stance. His eyes gleamed as other adults swarmed into the room, some of them helping the students out from the tables or away from the aisles while others ran towards them and taking a fighting stances.
“I will not have your kind in this place,” Albus’ voice rang out through the night. “Your master will never take Hogwarts. And neither will you enter it. Glacias curis!” The spear of ice flew towards the flock of death hanging over their heads. The wretches screamed, and the battle began.
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Draco cursed as a thin branch slapped him across the face. He swerved out of the way, skirting the edge of the forest, his eyes narrowed for any sign of movement. Sweat ran down his cheeks, tickling the skin under his ears, and making him itch. He rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead and wiped the moisture off on his trousers.
He didn’t know how long he had been flying, but twilight was fading to rich shadows. The Forest creaked and whispered at him, sending intermittent chills down his spine. He had to find Harry. He just had to.
A dark shape swooped out of the darkness, the wind from its wings buffeting Draco’s hair. He swore and ducked, his left arm coming up to shield his face - but he needn’t have worried.
The raven angled itself in front of him, then dove down and to the right, arching away from the lake and back towards the Pitch. Draco’s eyes narrowed and he bit his lower lip. He jerked his broom around and followed the bird, swinging low to the ground and keeping his head low.
The creature began to glow. Softly at first, the corvine was edged in a silver light that grew as darkness fell. Soon Draco had to shield his eyes from the sight, following the sound of rushing wings against the silence of the Forest.