"Dumbledore's Army!"
Grouped together with friends, he could clearly see the procession as it made it’s way towards the doorway of the large castle. The man in the front of the group was almost snake-like in appearance, lacking a nose and with almost bluish-white tinted skin as he stood stroking the head of his large serpent. The man gestured towards a giant man carrying the limp body of a familiar looking boy of his own age, a smug expression on the man’s face as the giant wept openly.
“You see?” said the man as he paced near the body as it was laid upon the ground. “H**** P***** is dead! Do you understand now deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied upon others to sacrifice themselves for him!”
“He beat you!” A voice rang out over the crowd, causing those who had been standing dumbfounded to cheer wildly until a powerful bang caused them to go silent once again.
“He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds,” the serpentine-looking man said, with clear delight in his voice, “killed while trying to save himself -“
Unable to take anymore of the obviously evil mans’ lies, he rushed forward and charged at the speaker, quickly getting disarmed of his wand and brought down by a powerful spell. The man appeared amused and surprised, asking who dared attack him.
“It is N****** L*********, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?” a woman yelled out, laughing with delight.
He felt himself become consumed by a strong, unbending hatred towards the woman as he struggled back to his feet. He was unarmed and unprotected, but he still stared down the man with an intensity that would have scared him if he had not been so secure in what needed to be done. He had a mission, had made a promise to a friend that he would kill the serpent that was traveling with the man. He would fulfill that promise even if it was the last thing he did.
Feeling the man gaze upon him, as well as the eyes of his friends, teachers, and grandmother, he held firm as he heard that hissing tone again. “Ah yes, I remember,” the man said as he looked down at him, “But you are a pureblood, aren’t you, my brave boy?” He felt his hands curl into fists at the snake-man’s question.
“So what if I am?” he asked loudly.
“You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, N****** L*********.” The man stated, as though making a grandiose offer.
“I’ll join you when hell freezes over,” he said, his voice ringing out across the field. “Dumbledore’s Army!” he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd regardless of the silencing charms the snake-like man and his minions had cast.
“Very well,” the man stated in the type of silkily threatening voice that made his hair stand on end. “If that is your choice, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it.” With that, the man waved his wand, causing something to fly out of one of the castle’s broken windows and into his hand. He held it up, showing it to be an old and mildewed hat, before using his wand to make the young man before him stand up straighter and more rigid, forcing the hat down his head and over his eyes.
He could hear the crowd behind him start to stir, but with his vision obscured he could only listen and wait. “N****** here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me,” he heard the man in front of him practically coo before feeling a searing heat on his head as the hat burst into flames.
Screams split the dawn, and he was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move, until something miraculous happened. He could hear a mighty uproar in the distance, people coming closer and a loud man screaming someone’s name. He felt something resting on top of his head inside the hat, filling him with a strength and courage he was unaware he had previously possessed.
Moving in a swift motion, he could feel the Body-Bind Curse that had been placed upon him break, allowing the flaming hat to fall from his head as he drew from its depths something silver with a glittering, ruby-encrusted handle. The slash of the blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of other creatures fighting, but everyone stopped what they were doing to watch as he darted forward and with a single stroke sliced off the giant snake’s head. It spun in the air, gleaming in the light as the snake-like man opened his mouth in a silent, angry scream.
He had succeeded, and knew that he had fulfilled his promise. He had done his part as a member of Dumbledore’s Army, and no matter what happened now he knew his grandmother would finally be proud of him.