Another Story

Chapter Eighteen

In which there is fighting

No one had expected the wards to give way so quickly, but neither Lord Voldemort nor his followers had been idle during the year that had passed between battles. Chaos erupted the moment the gates were breached. The explosion lifted a few students from their feet. There were Death Eaters in their midst in an instant and not only in the area of the gate, but throughout the grounds, which had erupted into a battleground. Smoke began to fill the air as the Dark Wizards began casting blasting curses willy-nilly across the grounds, the wizarding equivalent of heavy artillery fire. Showers of sparks and flame burst into the air, obscuring everything from view, and hissing in the damp night air.

But the assault did not merely come from one side nor from a single force. The defenders at the edge of the Dark Forest had to deal with the werewolves who had sworn allegiance to Voldemort. The moon that night was hardly a sliver in the sky far behind the clouds, meaning that their foes were in human form, but that did not render them powerless. Many of these men and women had been educated in secret and were capable wizards formerly of good families. Voldemort had armed them and even trained some of them in the Dark Arts, making them a force to be reckoned with, and not just a motley group of haggard-looking wizards and witches in tell-tale shabby robes. And they used the forest eaves to their advantage as they fired curses at the students and professor who were defending that front.

On the Quidditch pitch Arabella Figg, Molly and Arthur Weasley, and all of the others assigned to the area found themselves facing half a dozen rampaging giants that made Rubeus Hagrid seem very much like a small child compared to them in both size and temperament. Stunning spells were no deterrent at all to these massive foes, being only as potent as stinging flies to their club wielding adversaries. Debris was flying through the air as the giants swung their weapons, leveling the pitch in a matter of moments and driving back the wizards and witches selected to defend it. Even their best efforts were only slowing the giants slightly. But they were beginning to regroup as the giants waded through the rubble they had made of the stands and Quidditch goals. The defenders would not back down easily.

~

In a more remote corner of the grounds, Ginny, Minerva, and Hermione were preparing to face the dementors. The air had grown so cold that they could see the vapor of their breath in the air. Ginny and Hermione were both beginning to tremble as unpleasant and frightening memories began to enter their minds unbidden. For Ginny it was finding herself in the Chamber of Secrets with Harry, who had been wounded by the Basilisk. That had been one of the worst moments of her young life. But Hermione unwillingly dwelled upon the night in the Shrieking Shack during her third year when Harry, Ron, and she had cast Expelliarmus on Professor Snape. For a moment that night she had been certain they had killed him. Hermione shook her head to clear it and looked up at Professor McGonagall.

"They must be close," said Hermione in a quiet voice that barely carried over the distant sounds of the battle that raged on the other side of the school.

"Close enough to affect us," McGonagall agreed with a slight nod. Her lips were set in a grim line as she struggled to push her recollections of the war against Grindelwald to the back of her mind.

Then they saw them. Hermione wasn't quite sure how they managed it, whether the robed and hooded forms of the dementors had passed through the walls or whether they had used some form of apparition in the absence of the wards. One minute there was nothing there. The next minute they were staring at a cluster of dementors, the number of which seemed to be swelling by the second. And they were moving toward them with slow, gliding steps.

"Now!" said McGonagall as they stepped backward and pointed their wands toward the advancing dementors.

Hermione took a deep breath and thought of the first time she had kissed Severus, certainly one of her better memories, despite the circumstances in which it had occurred. Her heart pounded at the very memory of his lips and the tears that had been in his eyes.

"Expecto Patronum!" she yelled, attempting to draw strength from the memory.

Hermione bit back a gasp when a silvery gray snake-like form was emitted from the tip of her wand. It reminded her of an Ashwinder, if the glowing eyes were any indication. The Patronus, as it hung suspended in the air before her, turned for a moment, seemed to wink at her, and dove straight at the dementors with an almost inaudible hiss. She did not happen to register the look on her head of house's face, which was probably for the best.

It was Ginny who cried out the spell next, though her voice was quavering as she spoke: "Expecto Patronum!" She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the day when Remus had returned to Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts again. At the thought of that day, her heart seemed to soar.

From her wand sprang a Patronus in the shape of a great and powerful eagle such as could be found in the stories about the ancient days. It flapped its magnificent, shimmering wings and gave a keening cry that could strike fear into the heart of its enemies before transfixing the dementors with its golden eyes and diving into their midst with both its razor sharp beak and massive talons ready.

Minerva drew a deep breath and brought to mind Albus' proposal, which had made her happier than anything had in a very long while.

"Expecto Patronum!" Minerva cried in a loud, strong voice.

The creature was almost blindingly white and filled the darkness all around them with a silvery light that would have been sufficient to keep a dozen dementors at bay. It shook out its mane and lifted its head to give a mighty roar. If Godric Gryffindor himself had conjured the Patronus, he could hardly have matched this lion, this great beast called forth from Minerva McGonagall's wand in Hogwarts' hour of need. It shot toward the dementors like an arrow from a bowstring, scattering them and forcing them away from the three women as it joined Hermione and Ginny's Patroni in the skirmish.

They all felt the powerful magic that they had unleashed draining them, but the Patroni seemed to be doing the job. Then something unexpected happened. No matter how long she lived nor what she would see in her life, Ginny swore that she would never forget the moment when the three Patroni met in the midst of the crowd of scattering dementors. They melded into one another with a flash that nearly blinded them. Hermione and Minerva shielded their eyes, but Ginny could not look away. Instead of three separate Patroni, there was one great Patronus in the form of an unimaginably beautiful and majestic Griffin with the head of her eagle, the body of Professor McGonagall's lion, and the tail of Hermione's serpent. Against that, no dementor could stand its ground.

The horrible guardians of Azkaban quailed before the Griffin and fled back in the direction from which they had come, leaving the three witches standing there with expressions of awe upon their tired faces even as a drizzling rain began to fall. The Griffin stepped toward them, and they reached out instinctively to touch the beautiful creature before it disappeared, raising their wands in salute to their champion. It tossed its head and whipped its tail about its body before vanishing in a silvery puff as though it had never been at all. Their mission was accomplished. Hermione and Ginny sank to the damp earth in exhaustion.

~

The plain black robes hung loosely about his shoulders. Severus could not stop trembling long enough even to fasten the buttons of the garment. Only long minutes of concentrated effort and quiet cursing had allowed him to struggle into a pair of trousers. Shoes and a shirt were luxuries that he could not afford at the moment as he lurched toward the door of his bedroom, crashing into the door jam in an effort to keep his feet. He felt an overpowering sense of urgency that out weighed the physical weakness that nearly consumed him and made his knees shake and his arms feel heavy.

It was absurd, and he knew it, to think that he might be able to aid in the final battle against Voldemort. Severus was not even certain that he possessed the strength to cast a single spell. His mind was hazy and filled with such chaos that he almost swore that his ears were beginning to ring from the constant noise of thoughts, memories, ideas, and emotions that were even beginning to cloud and distort his senses. But Snape would not remain cowering in a dungeon.

He stumbled through his apartment, bumping into furniture and struggling to keep his balance. His determination carried him to the door and into the corridors. He shivered against the renewed onslaught of cold. His rooms had seemed warm by comparison. He rested for a moment with his back against the wall. A chill was seeping through his open robes, but he was panting for breath and could not go on without at least a short respite. He closed his eyes and felt sleep reaching out to claim him. Severus pried his eyelids open and slowly began to move, walking in the direction that led out of the dungeons. It was all that he could do merely to stay on his feet, though his legs were beginning to feel just a bit stronger.

Using the wall for support, Severus made his way slowly up the corridor one step at a time. He clenched his wand as tightly as he could, afraid to put it in his pocket. Somehow he did not think he would be able to remove it quickly enough. It was better to have it close.

Cold sweat began to pour down his face and into his eyes as he exerted all of his strength and energy to make it from the dungeons to the Entrance Hall of the castle. He clumsily wiped the perspiration from his face with his sleeve as he held his breath and listened to the sounds of fighting outside. He could not tell from the din who was winning. He only knew that both his duty and his beloved were on the other side of those great doors.

~

The defending forces at the gate, or what remained of it, were hard pressed as they faced all the wizards who had pledged themselves to Lord Voldemort, including his elite Death Eaters and others who had flocked to the Dark Lord's cause since his return to corporeal form. Harry found himself fighting not his great foe, but rather his soldiers, who were faceless men who still persisted in hiding behind masks and heavy, black robes even in their final hour whether it be one of victory or defeat. He was almost certain that the hulk of a man that Ron and he had managed to dispatch was MacNair. But it difficult to say. There was no time to rip away those masks during the chaos.

Harry glimpsed Professor Vector stun young Crabbe and Goyle, who had predictably turned upon their peers in favor of Voldemort's hoard. He did not see Draco Malfoy anywhere. He had slipped away somehow, Harry imagined, and that displeased him. Harry always wanted to know where his enemies were.

In a momentary break front the fighting, Harry looked around the battlefield, spying friends and teachers amid the smoke, drizzling rain, and chaos. Remus was fighting off a pair of werewolves who had broken through the line, or what was left of it, at the Dark Forest. Harry could hear his firm and clear voice on the wind as he tried to reason with them. They would have none of it. Moody was near the castle stairs. Seamus and Dean were locked in fierce combat with a slender Dark Wizard that Harry assumed to be the elder Malfoy.

He glanced at Ron at his side and wondered where the other Weasley brothers were. Harry gave him an encouraging smile as they caught their breaths. MacNair had been a formidable opponent for both of them. Not quick nor agile, but very strong, very powerful. They had done well. Harry wasn't certain that the Death Eater, lying face down in the mud only a few paces away, was dead, but he certainly wasn't moving and a light vapor was rising from his black robes.

Then Harry happened to turn toward the path leading from the school. And he saw his enemy.

Voldemort was standing only a few dozen meters down the lane, tapping his wand against the flat of his palm and simply watching with a mixture of enjoyment, impatience, and indifference to the battle playing out before him. It was an odd combination of arrogant self-assurance and smug satisfaction too, as though the Dark Lord already knew what the outcome would be, insofar as he believed that he would emerge victorious - the lives of his followers meant nothing, were mere trifles, a means to an end. He had even invoked an Umbrellus charm to keep his robes dry as he watched the spectacle.

As a blasting curse went off in the distance, between the Quidditch pitch and the forest, Harry saw an eerie light come to Voldemort's uncanny red eyes, and turned to Ron.

"It's time," he said in an emotionless voice. "You shouldn't come with me. This is between him and me."

"Bloody hell, Harry, you aren't going out there alone," said Ron adamantly, shaking his head and looking toward their waiting enemy.

"And I believe that neither of you should leave the grounds unescorted," said a voice behind them.

Harry turned to see Professor Dumbledore standing there. When the wards had failed, the older wizard had taken the opportunity to make use of his apparition abilities, just as their enemies were doing.

"All right, sir," Harry answered simply before they made their way through the gate and up the path to where Voldemort awaited them.

~

The rain was cool, and it felt so good on her face as she closed her eyes and waited for her breath and strength to return. Hermione smiled grimly, knowing that there was still work to do and that perhaps the worst of it was not behind them. But they had done something. They had managed to drive away the dementors of Azkaban. When this was all over, she wanted to exchange pleasant memories with Ginny and Professor McGonagall. She was very eager to learn how they accomplished the task and how they had all produced such a Patronus as that one. Hermione did not realize that they had all come, in some form or fashion, from their strong memories of the powerful emotion of love.

"If only we had a bit of chocolate ..." murmured Ginny.

Hermione nodded her agreement as she opened her eyes. They would certainly have some later, she decided, looking up at Professor McGonagall, who had remained on her feet, though the older witch did look a bit tired.

"When you can manage it, we had best join the fight again," Minerva told them. Her words were stern, but pride shone in her eyes as she looked down at her students.

Then they heard a loud clumping sound coming toward them and turned in the direction of the greenhouses. Hermione and Ginny clambered quickly to their feet with wands raised as a giant came into view.

He was well over the standard twenty feet tall and rather incredibly ugly, even for a giant, and had an iron-shod club resting on one shoulder as he lumbered toward them. It was a well-known fact that the giants were and are a violent race. A leering grin came to this particular giant's face as he realized that he was facing an opposition that consisted of only three witches, one who looked rather old and two who were not even fully trained. Easy pickings, he reckoned.

"Ginny, run and see if you can find someone to lend us a hand," said McGonagall in a steady voice. "We will try to keep him occupied," she added.

"But ..." she protested.

"Go!" said Minerva.

Ginny took one last look at the approaching giant and raced away through the rain around the opposite side of the castle from whence they had originally come.

"Do you have a plan, professor?" asked Hermione, knowing that to stun a giant, it usually required as many as four fully trained and rather powerful wizards. She had read an article once when she was considering, very briefly, entering Auror training.

"The beginnings of one," she answered as the giant took the club from its shoulder. "Try to stay out of its way."

"Right ..." said Hermione as the giant prepared to swing.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------