Faith: Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter 46: Faith
The castle shook under their feet. Sirius swore as he was pitched to the side, the air whooshing from his lungs as he met the ground. He rolled to his feet, his wand held tight in his hand.
The doors to the Great Hall shuddered, and then broke. The wood above the bar splintered and shattered inward, showering them with debris. The animagus ducked and shielded his face against the onslaught.
The roar the Voldemort’s army hit his ears like a tidal wave of sound. He rose from his crouch in time to see the hands of a set of giants reach through the hole they had made and begin to tear the door asunder. The saliva in his mouth dried as he watched the Dark creatures rip gaping holes in the wood, steadily tearing down the doors with every handful they grabbed.
Leaping onto the Hufflepuff table, he took aim at one of the large-knuckled hands. A freezing spell caught the wrist and his next spell shattered it. He grinned as the savage howl of the giant echoed through the Hall.
Around him, the other Order members sprang onto the tables and began to fire spells at the giants. The creatures were battled back, but with a sinking heart Sirius knew it was only a matter of time before the doors broke. As fast as they wounded them, more giants appeared to take their fellows’ place.
Remus’ half-changed form was at the front lines of their defense. The werewolf was snarling constantly, even as his eyes never wavered from the door. Sharp claws had extended from his fingertips, gouging thin furrows into the wood of the table he was on. They were running out of time.
Sirius turned his gaze from his lover and back towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Percy stumble forward. Concern flashed through the animagus - the boy was too close to the doors. Even as he turned towards the boy, a chill ran up his spine. Percy had a grim smile on his face and his wand pointed towards the thick beam that held what was left of the doors closed.
Sirius opened his mouth to yell, but it was too late. The spell left Percy’s lips and hit the wooden beam, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Shocked silence swept the length of the Hall as every Order member turned to stare at the traitor in their midst.
Percy smirked at them. The door burst open.
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Draco pushed his bangs out of his eyes and yelped as Firenze hurdled the body of a fallen Death Eater without warning. He clung to the centaur’s broad back and gritted his teeth. He noticed a dark blur coming towards them out of the corner of his eye and turned, a spell spilling from his lips before he thought twice about it. It hit the vampire square in the chest, felling the Dark creature with ease.
“A good hit, Draco Malfoy.” Firenze’s deep rumble brought a humorless smile to Draco’s face.
“Thank you, Firenze.” Together, centaur and wizard had been picking at the edges of Voldemort’s army with the rest of Firenze’s clan. Draco had been jubilant at their success, until he had seen the dark swarm spreading across the once-green lawns of Hogwarts.
His stomach lurched as a loud roar from the Dark Lord’s army swept past them. Together they looked towards the gates of Hogwarts, and Draco felt his mouth go dry. The doors had been breeched.
“There has to be something we can do!” Draco slammed a fist onto his thigh. “We have to split the army -”
A sudden burst of flame made the blond duck and curse. Firenze stopped and climbed a small hill, taking the chance to look down onto the spread of Voldemort’s army.
“What the hell is Ginny doing!” Draco’s howl rose through the night air. “I’m going to kill her!”
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Getting out of Hogwarts proved easy for the determined Slytherins. Blaise and Neville led the way, hurrying them past the long breezeway that led to the Great Hall and down a narrow corridor that was lined with locked doors. The door out stood cracked open, and the narrow strip of twilight beckoned them on.
Pushing through the doors, the Slytherins made sure to close it tight behind them. They had emerged on the other side of the castle, well away from the main body of Voldemort’s army. Ginny shivered as their roars filled the air. Her heart was pounding, and her breath was catching in the back of her throat.
The same boy that had helped her in the hall put his hand at the small of her back. She met his eyes and smiled, seeing the same fear and determination in his eyes. They shared a small smile and then turned back to Neville and Blaise, making sure to follow close to the boys.
They skirted the edge of the castle, staying close to the walls. A raggedly clothed hag appeared, her long nails dirty and yellow, and she dived at them with a scream. Numerous spells hit her at once, silencing her attack and knocking her out of the sky. They all shared shaky smiles and forged on.
The sight of the Dark Lord’s army brought startled tears to Ginny’s eyes. The surging mass of Dark creatures, all of them howling for their blood, shook her to the bone. Their rage and frenzy pulsed against her skin and stirred her hair. Fear boiled up along her spine, turning her veins to ice.
I can’t do this. A small voice whimpered in the back of her mind. She shook her head and took one trembling step back. Then a streak of light caught her eye. She turned her head and narrowed her gaze as she tracked it across the field. It was Draco, clinging to the back of a centaur, throwing spells at the army of fell creatures as fast as he could. Another sight made her stiffen - Hagrid was fighting his way towards the gate, one monster at a time, his only weapon a long handled rake that was already dripping with blood.
Rage, both at her own fear and at Voldemort surged through her. Her wand spilled into her hand and she took a step forward. Then another and another until she was running up the small rise to look down over the Dark Lord’s army. Lists of spells swam to the forefront of her memory. She ignored the screams of her Housemates and took aim.
The firestorm took her by surprise. Her rage gave the flames force and strength, pulsing out of her wand and sweeping down towards the army with the speed of an arrow. It hit the center band of the army and kept going, igniting hair and fur, withering breath from lungs and crisping flesh until bone showed through.
Ginny gasped and lowered her arm, her eyes going wide as the bulk of Voldemort’s army turned and looked their way.
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The Morrigan wheeled high in the sky, her bloodthirsty screams unheard by the players below. Her eyes watched as the young witch took aim and spread flame and devastation across the enemy’s ranks. She swooped low, her talons sharp, and raked the first of the men who started towards the children standing bravely on the hill. Bloody now, her screams grew shrill as she dove again and again, growing larger and larger with every pass, until her beak was large enough to snap the spines of her prey and her talons could pierce both flesh and armor of the men who fought her.
The night was waning and the blood began to soak the earth. Wild magic pulsed through the air, sending the Morrigan up onto a high draft. She wheeled towards the darkened moon, her wings spreading out into a fan as she saw the silver boat approaching.
With a triumphant scream, she dove towards the battle once more.
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Lucius swore as the explosion threw both bodies and earth towards his hiding spot. The normally immaculate Slytherin lay low on his belly, shielded by a thin line of bush and brush. His hair was tied back and secured at his neck. His clothes were dirty, covered in both mud and other substances he chose not to think about.
Voldemort’s high lieutenants were gathered in a clump near the rear of the army. Lucius stayed low and tracked the men as they spoke to one another. Most of them Lucius dismissed with little thought - two of them, however, were another matter. Smart, cunning, and loyal until their very last breath, Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband Rodolphous stood next to one another with their heads bent close. Lucius’ stomach twisted as he saw the smile twist the woman’s face - Bellatrix was one of the few people in the world that Lucius was wary of.
The bottles in his pouch shifted, causing them to clink together. Lucius froze and watched as Rodolphous jerked his head up and stared towards the blonde’s position.
“Did you hear that?”
Bellatrix shook her head and turned towards the Forest. “No. What was it?”
“I am not sure.” Her husband shook his head and took a step towards Lucius’ hiding place. “You are sure our rear is covered? The werewolves have the Forest?”
Bellatrix nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I conditioned them myself.” A sly smile slid across her face. “They were quite eager to do my bidding when I was finished with them.”
Rodolphous frowned but stopped his advance. He stood two steps away from Lucius - the tips of the man’s boots were dirty with mud and gore. The blond swallowed hard and dug his fingers into the thick earth of the forest floor, praying to whoever would listen that the man would turn away. His prayers were answered.
Voldemort’s roar for his lieutenants drew the cluster of officers away. Lucius let out a small breath and let his shoulders sag. Reaching back into his pocket he drew out one of the vials and worked open the cork. Using a levitating spell, he guided the small vial up and over the body of the army and then let it go.
The three other vials also went out in quick succession. His eyes widened and he dropped the last vial short as a shadow dived out of the night and began attacking the line of Death Eaters that had turned towards the East. Lucius pushed himself to his knees and peered over the edge of the bushes, trying to see what had caused the firestorm. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Ginny and the rest of the Slytherins standing silhouetted against the hill.
He started to struggle to his feet when a wand suddenly dug into the flesh at his neck. “Why Lucius Malfoy,” Bellatrix Lestrange’s voice purred. “How strange to meet you here.”
The blond snarled and drove his elbow back into her stomach. The witch grunted and the wand dropped away. Lucius rolled and got to his feet, three spells snapping out to bind her, gag her and take away her wand. He set the tip of Bellatrix’s new wand against the ground and snapped it with his foot. Her eyes bulged and she jerked against her bonds.
He stepped closer to the witch and stared down at her. “I hope your werewolves find you, bitch,” he spat, throwing the broken pieces of her wand at her face. “I should have never married your sister.” He turned and slipped deeper into the forest, not looking back. He had to get to the children, before the rest of Voldemort’s army did.
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Harry shuddered as he passed through the golden archway. His hair stood on end and the very marrow of his bones seemed to freeze as he hung suspended in some greater dark for a long moment, and then tumbled out into the night. He landed on his knees with a wince and shook his head to clear it.
He looked up as the last flicker of an explosion caught his eye. He stared up at the shattered doors to the Great Hall and felt his stomach sink. I’m too late. He shook his head and forced himself to his feet, starting a slow trot towards the fighting.
Two eerie howls split the night. Harry froze. He turned his head and with a sinking heart saw the two streaks approaching. He stumbled to a stop and turned to face them. He knew he could never out run the hellhounds.
Then he remembered the sling in his hand. He looked down and thought quickly. He reached down and picked up one of the small, decorative stones that Hagrid liked to use for the edge of the flowerbeds. It fit into the pocket of the sling perfectly.
Whirling the weapon over his head, he took aim at the approaching hounds. He let fly. The stone glowed as it left the sling, shooting towards the target with perfect aim. The golden trail marked its course and the stone hit the hellhound with a resounding thunk, sending it spinning away into the dark.
Harry gaped at the sling for precious moments before reloading and aiming at the other hound still coming for him. Again the stone hit its target and swept the hound from its feet. Harry pumped a fist into the air and turned, intending to make his way to the castle.
The snarl stopped him in his tracks. The Cwn Annwn were bloodied, with gaping holes in their chests, but still stood, their teeth pulled back to expose their sharp canines and lolling tongues. Harry stumbled and almost fell. He dove for another stone.
The hellhounds howled and surged forward. They were brought short by a sudden wild scream and the heavy pounding of hooves against the earth. Harry raised his hands to cover his head, but found himself caught by the nape of the neck and draped over the pommel of a saddle.
He twisted and looked up at his savior. The golden haired goddess smiled at him and urged her herd faster, even as the hounds gave chase. With her help she pulled him around to sit behind her.
“Here,” she pressed a bag of stones into his hand and smiled over her shoulder at him. “Use these. Take out their legs. They’re nasty little buggers, eh?”
Harry let out a bark of a laugh and nodded. He turned in his seat and fitted the sling with one of the heavy silver stones. He swung the weapon and let fly. One of the hounds screamed with pain and dropped back. His next shot missed, hitting the earth with a shuddering ripple that almost upset the horses. Harry pressed his lips together and tried again.
Epona, the horse goddess, let out a battle call and urged her herd faster as the hounds gave chase. She bent low against the heaving neck, molding her body to her horse’s, urging it on. She did not look back as she led the hounds on a long chase around the field, attracting the attention of the Dark Lord’s army. Her eyes were fixed on the field ahead of her, and the bloody ground that was growing more wet with carnage.
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Blaise grabbed Neville’s arm and pulled him to the ground as two hags swooped over their heads, just missing them. The shaken blond smiled up at him, but was on his feet before Blaise could stop him, his wand held out and shooting spells at the oncoming army.
“We’re out numbered!” Pansy’s voice could barely be heard over the roar of their enemies.
“I know!” The sable haired boy scrambled to his feet and darted forward, trying to stay abreast with Neville. “We have to keep them back!”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” Pansy ducked as a spell flew past her shoulder. “There’s too many of them.”
“I don’t -,” Blaise yelped and ducked as another roar of fire surged from their side and swept towards Voldemort’s army. He caught Neville as he fell.
“I did it!” The sandy haired boy squirmed in his arms. “Did you see?”
Blaise gritted his teeth and hung on to his boyfriend. “Yes, now stay down.”
“But we have to keep fighting.” Neville turned and looked at him, the elation seeping away as grim determination came flooding back in. “We have to split the army. It’s the only way.”
Blaise closed his eyes for a brief moment and clamped down on the panic that swept through his system. “I know,” he managed to grit out. “But you don’t have to be at the front of the battle.”
Neville’s face softened and he touched their foreheads together with a soft bump. “Don’t be worried,” he whispered. “It’ll be alright.”
Blaise swallowed hard and held onto the other boy tight. He drew in a sharp, deep breath and nodded. “Only if you swear to me you will stay alive.”
Neville’s eyes were bright. “I do.” He pressed a kiss into Blaise’s hair and pulled out of his grasp. Blaise let him go, but was on his feet a moment later.
“Help me?” Neville reached back with one hand towards Blaise.
The sable haired boy took the outstretched hand and held it hard. Together they faced the oncoming Dark. Blaise took a deep breath and raised his wand, his chest growing tight as the horde grew close.
An answering roar from behind them caught the Slytherins by surprise. Blaise whipped his head around in time to see Fred and George charge past their former sister, flinging curses towards Voldemort’s army.
The other Houses had arrived.
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When the doors of the Great Hall burst open, time seemed to stop for Sirius. He saw the writhing mass of creatures spill through the entry and he saw Remus spring. The rest was a blur until he found himself at his lover’s side, fighting back to back with an enraged werewolf whom he hoped could remember who was the enemy.
Cuts appeared on his arms, slicing open his flesh from wrist to elbow. Blood dripped and made the floor slippery, but he did not dare take the moment to bind the wounds with a spell. Hags and vampires dove at him; a troll swung his club and missed them, but took out a large chunk of the wall.
The other Order members were fighting in the back of the Great Hall - Sirius could see Moody on his feet and standing at the Headmaster’s side, along with Tonks. The older wizard looked haggard and pale, while both Albus and Tonks were bloodied from battle. Bodies littered the ground, but Sirius couldn’t tell if they were enemies or children who were unable to flee in time. He hoped it was the former.
He could see Percy hiding in the corner, hunkered low against the seam where the wall met the floor. Sirius’ rage boiled and he fought harder, wanting nothing more than to tear the boy to pieces with his own bare hands.
A silver streak caught his eyes and he saw Lucius appear next to Snape. He thought he saw the Potions Master sag with relief. The two Slytherins exchanged a look and a quiet word. Severus’ mouth tightened. They turned as one towards the attackers and raised their wands. Sirius could see both of them struggling to reach the doors.
A roar of flame almost blinded the animagus. Sirius ducked and raised his arms to cover his face. The pitch of screams changed - the rage was still there - but amongst the Dark Lord’s army there was now despair and pain. Sirius could smell the burnt flesh and the seared blood - it was a warm smell and it clung to the back of his throat. He coughed and turned his head to spit. His gaze met Remus’ and he froze. The werewolf had fully emerged and stood panting at his side.
The great head turned and met his gaze head on. The look in the amber eyes made the tension in Sirius’ shoulders relax. He smiled at his lover and cocked his head to one side. With a roar, the battle returned to life, and Sirius had to look away - but not before seeing the answering look in Remus’ eyes.
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Voldemort screamed as the firestorms grew in intensity and number. They battered the East edge of his flank, nearly cutting his forces in two.
“Bella!” His roar went unanswered. “Rodolphous where is your wife?” He back handed the man and planted a foot on the trembling Death Eater’s chest.
“I do not know, my Lord.”
Voldemort snarled and struck hard. His heel shattered the man’s larynx. Frothy bubbles appeared at the man’s lips as he twitched and jerked on the ground. The Dark Lord tipped back his head and relished in the energy as it swept up his body.
Returning his gaze back to the fighting, he noticed a streak of white and blond sweeping across the lawns. Narrowing his eyes, he tracked what appeared to be a herd of horses sweeping in large circles around the grounds. Then he noticed the hounds.
“Potter,” he snarled. He left the dying Rodolphous to his last breaths and stalked away from his lieutenants. His robes twisted around his body, slipping between his legs and making it hard to walk. He tore the garment from his back and left it in pieces on the ground.
In a thin shirt and pants he turned his back on the army and made his way towards the wheeling herd of horses. His wand he held tight in his hand, so tight that his nails were cutting bloody half moons in his palms. In his other hand he held the book, its cover wet with blood and entrails. It slid in his hold, making him cradle it to his chest. He smeared the fluids across the back cover, feeling the gore seep between his fingers and lodge under his nails.
A simple blinding spell took care of half the horses. Finding Potter clinging to a woman’s back made him smile. The blond girl was frantically trying to guide her horse to a stop. He sent another spell flying, sending the horses into a frenzy. The stallion bucked the both of them off its back and reeled away, the front right leg snapping with a loud wet sound as it fell down a hill.
Potter fell hard, hitting with his shoulder first and not getting up. The Cwn Annwn were running full out towards their prey, their bodies elongated against the ground and their tongues lolling out of their mouths.
The Dark Lord heard a boyish scream and felt a spell glance off his shoulder. He waved a hand in the direction of the attack and made note of the centaur and its rider sent flying. He turned back in time to see Potter stagger to his feet, his empty hands held up in front of him, even as the hell hounds sprang.
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Harry’s shoulder ached from where he hit the ground. His heart had plummeted when he saw Draco go flying from Firenze’s back. He saw the hounds spring, and could think of nothing to stop them.
Paws hit his chest, knocking him to the ground. Warm breath brushed his throat and then teeth sank deep into his flesh. He screamed and the sound echoed out across a suddenly silent field. Voldemort’s roar of triumph followed.
A flash of light blinded his eyes. The pressure at his throat stopped, but did not back away. A new voice filled the void of sound, and the clap of wild magic seared the air.
“Cwn Annwn obey me now!” Gwyn ap Nudd, the Lord of Winter, had arrived.
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Sirius’ head flew up at the sudden shriek that filled the air. He knew that voice. He shook his head and dropped his arm, his eyes swinging from the enemy in front of him to where the sound had come from.
Harry. He tried to say the word, but no sound emerged. He pushed the troubling fact away and pushed through the lax ranks of his enemies, making his way out the door and across the field. No one tried to stop him.
The sight of his godson falling to the ground with the hounds at his throat drove Sirius to his knees. He dug his fingers into the earth and tried to scream for help. A furred beast streaked past him, heading straight for Voldemort. Remus. Sirius knew he would lose them both.
Then the voice rang out over the field, knocking everyone to the ground. The light flashed, causing small dots to crawl across his line of vision. He looked up and felt his ears pop and his mouth drop open.
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Gwyn ap Nudd surveyed the scene with barely contained rage. He stalked towards his hounds, who trembled at his presence, but did not move.
“I said obey me,” he snarled. “I bid thee come!” Thunder filled his voice and the hounds whimpered, letting go of their prey and scurrying to his side. He glanced at the bloodied madman clutching his book, but transferred his gaze to the boy bleeding out on the ground.
“I know you,” he murmured, kneeling down next to the dark haired boy.
Green eyes fluttered open and locked with his own. He reached down and brushed a heavy lock off the child’s forehead.
“I know you,” he said again, a small smile spreading across his face. “You are the voice that woke me from my dreams.” He cupped the thin face with one large hand. “I have much to thank you for.”
Green eyes widened and the boy tried to speak. Gwyn ap Nudd hushed him, pressing one calloused finger to the chapped lips. He could feel his rival at his side, looking down at the boy from over his shoulder.
“He is dying,” Gwythr said.
“I know.”
“You cannot do both things.”
“I know.” Gwyn ap Nudd sighed and shook his head. He leaned down towards the boy. “Listen child,” he began. “I would save you and wipe this creature from the face of this Earth if I could, but I cannot. So you must choose. Live, and let this Dark thing continue, or,” dark eyes glittered, “die, and I shall take his soul and scatter it to the four winds.”
Green eyes blinked and two tears soaked the hair at his temples. Bloodless lips moved several times before sound emerged. “Die,” came the cracked whisper.
Gwyn ap Nudd smiled, and bent to kiss the child’s forehead. Howls, this time from human throats, broke the air. “You are a brave boy,” he said. He let his hand drop from the child as he looked up at the towering madman clutching the Book. He stood.
“I am Gwyn ap Nudd, ruler of Annwn and the owner of the hounds you stole.” He drew himself up to his full height. “I am the Winter King, the leader of the wild hunt, and I am not amused.” He raised his hand and gathered his power. His eyes glowed with power. “Your soul is mine.” His power reached out and hooked around the Dark Lord. The man fought wildly, striking out at the god with the power he had stored away.
One particularly hard thrust made the god grunt and take a step back. Gwyn ap Nudd gasped and pressed his hand to his side where blood began to seep through the fabric of his shirt. He was tired and the wild magic surged in his grasp.
Green light flashed, startling the god. He looked down at the boy, whose eyes were the color of deepest emerald. A blond was hunkered by the boy’s side, his head bowed so the god could not see his face. The dark haired boy’s lips moved, even as blood flowed from the wounds on this neck. The Dark Lord jerked his head towards the boy and howled, directing the blasts of power not towards the god, but towards the boys instead.
Gwyn ap Nudd reached out with both hands to stop it. Wild magic surged, breaking free of his control. A swirling wind surrounded them, blinding them all. The Winter King shielded his eyes with an arm and banished his hounds to his underworld kingdom. The magic exploded, blinding his eyes.
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Harry found himself in a gray twilight. He sat up, but his arms were still shaky and unable to bear his weight. He flopped down on his back and waited, content to stare up at the shifting gray sky, happy that the pain had stopped.
The click of footsteps on the ground turned his head. His eyes traveled up short legs and a fluffy white dress. A blue ribbon held back dark hair and Erin smiled down at him as she sat by his side.
“Erin.” His voice was rusty. He blinked. “You got out.”
She nodded and folded her hands in her lap. “Thank you, Harry.” Her upturned nose wrinkled, but her eyes were sad. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she said.
He matched her smile. “Neither did I,” he said. He reached up and touched the back of her hand with thin fingers. “Am I dead?”
She shook her head, her dark hair just brushing her shoulders. “No, not yet.” She covered his hand with one of her own. “Voldemort is gone. He tried to direct his stored power at you, to wipe you out even as the Lord Annwn shredded his soul.”
“So what happened?” Harry shifted to see her better.
She tapped his nose with a slender finger. “You know exactly what happened. You remembered the green road.” She sighed and shook her finger at him. “Although it never should have been possible, you know.”
Harry’s smile was a touch bitter. “It was the Vision potions. The path to Voldemort was always there - we were always connected, no matter what. And that last potion,” Harry blew out a long breath and shrugged. “Well. I took his magic and bundled it up, like a dam. It grew too strong for the Path and it exploded.” His expression shifted and he licked his lips. “Did I burn myself out with that stunt?”
She laughed, the clear sound ringing out into the gray twilight. The world began to shift into focus around him. He could make out a sky that was loosing its stars and a pale twilight that was beginning to brush the Eastern skyline. “You did not.” She sighed and her mirth faded. “But now you have to choose.” She looked down at him and brushed gentle fingers across his throat. “You will never lose the scars the hounds have given you, but you will be able to speak. The Vision Potions have riddled your mind with wild magic, connecting you permanently with the Otherworld. Your body is weak and you will never regain the strength you once had.” Her eyes gleamed in the fading darkness. “That is what you will look forward to, Harry, if you choose to return.”
Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times. He looked past her into the lightening sky. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he looked at her, his eyes bright.
“Draco can talk for me. And Sirius will be there. Remus needs someone to help him stay in line and…and…I’d like to have a sister. At least kind of. And a brother.” He swallowed hard. “An older brother.” He shook his head and tightened his hold on Erin’s hand. “I need to go back. I knew the price would be high. It was worth it.”
“Well said,” came the deep voice of the Winter King. Gwyn ap Nudd appeared over Erin’s shoulder and knelt down next to Harry. His gray eyes were warm. “I am looking forward to your visits boy.” He reached down and touched Erin’s hair with a large hand. His eyes grew serious. “Thank you for her.” He lifted the girl into his arms and stood. The pair of them stared down at Harry with matching eyes.
“Fare thee well, Harry Potter. May we meet again.” And they faded from sight.
End Chapter 46