Forbidden Lore

Forbidden Lore

Chapter 8

My rather cryptic Shakespeare quotation before the battle began probably, on reflection, had not been the smartest thing to say. It isn't that I'm superstitious; it just appeared to have a less than positive affect on the outcome of the fight. Have I lost you? Allow me to elucidate.

The outlook one has before a fight can affect, positively or negatively, the outcome of that fight. Now, right as we left the hospital wing to begin the fight to end all fights, the be all and end all of battles, the final conflict between good and evil, I, being me, said something cryptic and unpleasant. It wasn't necessarily deliberate; it was merely a reflex reaction inspired by uneasiness. Unfortunately, my quotation negatively affected our attitude. To be more precise, we set out with the mindset of: 'there's no way in hell we're going to win this, in fact, we'll be lucky if we survive it at all'. Needless to say, we knew that we were in for a rough time.

As we left the room, my father's words echoed through my head. 'You are a Petralona, this is not your fight...' blah, blah, blah. I wanted to listen to him (mostly because I really didn't want to get killed) but knew deep down that, were my friends to ask for my assistance, I would not be able to refuse. It was a highly disconcerting thing to know. All of thirty seconds after thinking this, they asked.

We hurried through the hallways of the school, our feet making varying, unique sounds. Mine made their usual light, scarcely heard, irregular tap. The sound of which was completely swallowed by the heavier steps of my companions. It unnerved me, not being able to hear my own footfalls, I felt a bit dislocated, as though I wasn't really there; a mere shadow spirit figure, hiding among mortals. I didn't find the feeling pleasant and shook it off quickly. Though, it did linger as a shadow in the back of my mind all through the battle that was to come.

We got outside, onto the grounds, and even I, hardened as I was from a difficult life, gasped at the scene playing out before our eyes.

There were death eaters, there were ministry wizards, and they were all killing each other. Really, had I not been able to tell the difference by the clothes they were wearing, it would have been impossible to tell.

Then, it clicked. They're all the same! I thought, All the same!

I stopped dead, Ron ran into me, "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he shouted.

"Being me," I said, taking my wand back from Professor Snape.

"How is standing in the middle of a battlefield being you?" Snape asked, glancing at me.

"It's different, that's what I do, everyone else is fighting, well, I'm different, so I won't fight."

"You're joking!" Ron said, his eyes wide with pure shock.

"No, I'm not." I paused, then, "it's no good, fighting like this, we're no better than them, we're just fighting for a different cause. In the end, we do no better. 'As soon as men decide that all means are permitted to fight an evil, then their good becomes indistinguishable from the evil that they set out to destroy.'"

"What was that?"

"A quote, Christopher Dawson."

At that moment, the death eaters spotted us, standing near the entrance to the school. With a shout of warning, several surged forwards, wands up. It was then that I realized that Ron and Hermione were, in that moment, frightened children with no idea how to deal with a real fight. Against my better judgment, I grabbed Hermione's arm and, leaning towards her, spoke gently in her ear.

"Hermione, please you must move, if you stay here you will die, this is a real fight, a fight to the death, the rules have all changed now. Take Ron and put some of that magical knowledge to use."

With that, I was off, running as fast as I could (and I could run very fast when properly motivated) towards the crowd of death eaters and ministry aurors. I wouldn't fight, no, but that didn't stop me from being a diversion to give the others time.

As I ran, I knew that I would probably not survive this, but, for once in my life, I wanted to put the lives of others ahead of my own. I'd never felt that way before, but it was a good feeling, heady and intoxicating. I was in a state of adrenaline rush, my head clearing as I went. Vaguely, I could hear my friends shouting at me, telling me to come back, I ignored them, leaping over fallen people.

Theirs, ours, everyone's, I thought, fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers, all dying at once, together. It doesn't matter anymore who believes what, who says this, and who says that, because they're all dying together. And, Raven, it's been fun, but you're about to join them.

I almost laughed, but didn't because at that moment, a voice I sort-of recognized shouted some curse or another at me. I swore mentally, but didn't waste the breath to voice it. My chest was starting to seize up and my legs were beginning to hurt. So, maybe I wasn't as healed as I'd thought. No reason to kill a girl. I was hoping that I was running fast enough to get out of the way.

Of course, the death eater, not being a total idiot, had aimed the curse in front of me because he knew that I was going too fast to stop quickly. He was right, I couldn't stop quickly, I had too much momentum, but what he hadn't figured on was my turning, which was precisely what I did. I turned to the right, skid in the trampled, muddy grass, my feet flew out from under me, and I slid five feet on my back.

The world spun in front of my eyes, but, regardless, I pushed myself to my feet, pushing my tangled, now mud-spattered hair out of my eyes as I did so.

"Well, then," I said aloud to no one in particular, "That was certainly unexpected. And needlessly painful."

I realized that I was still standing in a blood soaked battlefield, surrounded by people who would kill me without a second thought, and talking to myself. Questioning my sanity for the probably hundredth time, I started running again, slower this time, out of growing exhaustion, but still fairly fast. I wanted to clear the main fight before resting. So, my noble mood ran out of steam, I would lament it later. I really never have been the martyr type.

A few steps later, I was safely out of harm's way and I stood back to watch the battle commence. I know that sounds cold and heartless, but I was actually watching out for my friends. My 'diversion' had given them an opportunity to get into the fight without being attacked before they got close. Mission accomplished. Now, I was waiting to help anyone who didn't appear to be able to help themselves.

Right away, I spotted Ron, he was doing all right against one death eater, but another was coming up behind him and I knew that him fighting two was simply out of the question. So, with a heavy sigh of resignation, I began walking towards them. Walking. See, I had this theory that a running figure was noticeable, but a calmly walking figure could go unnoticed. I had decided a moment before moving that I would test that theory. I walked as fast as I could without appearing anything less than calm.

I came at them from an angle, none of them noticed. Stepping closer, I said the fateful words that would be the end of my short-lived career as a neutral.

"Stupefy," he fell, I added under my breath, "you bastard."

Ron was finally able to fell his death eater with a well-aimed stunning charm. He turned to look at me.

"I thought you were staying out of this, Raven,"

"I was," I shrugged, "I guess I'm not now."

"Oh," was all he said.

More people came out onto the field, teachers, some sixth and seventh year students, I saw Ginny Weasley near the doors, guarding the entrance with a group of fifth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. In that hour, that single hour, house rivalries, petty arguments, grudges over Quidditch matches, countless other things that divided the school, all vanished. The death eaters, realizing that they were, by far, outnumbered, fled. Ron made to go after them, but I held him back.

"No!" I hissed in his ear, "let them run, you'll get another chance."

I let him go and stood a little away, trusting that he wouldn't disregard my words. Thankfully, he didn't move, he just glared after them furiously. I couldn't blame him for that; I was rather inclined to glare at them myself, I, however, contented myself with merely watching them run with disgust.

Shouting was what shook me from my reverie, someone was shouting at me to come over. Looking up, I saw Harry, waving his arms at me and calling my name.

"What?" I called, tilting my head slightly to the right and narrowing my eyes.

He looks worried, I thought, I wonder what happened. Is someone dead?

Of course, that was a rather stupid thing to think, as there were many people dead all around me.

"Come over here, please, it's important!"

I jogged over, leaping over the bodies of a death eater and an auror in the process. In case you're wondering, I have always been rather cold towards death, it happens, there's nothing to be done about it, I never got upset seeing corpses. When I got nearer, I could see that Harry looked really upset.

I saw for myself what had happened when I neared. It was Hermione.

"Hermione!" I gasped, then, calmer, "What happened?"

"She was hit with something, obviously." Draco said sharply.

"I know that, Draco Malfoy! I mean, what hit her?"

"Well, if we knew that then she wouldn't be unconscious, now would she?" he snapped.

I opened my mouth to retort, paused, then said, "Good point."

I, regardless of the filthy grass, knelt down beside Hermione's prone form and patted her cheeks, "Hermione," I said, "Hermione, come on, time to wake up, come on."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Draco said sharply.

"Well, whatever you people are doing, it isn't working, so I'm trying this. Now, shut up!"

Draco's eyebrows shot into his hairline, but I ignored him and patted Hermione's cold cheek again. This time, she stirred slightly and, after shooting Draco a look of triumph, I shook her shoulders forcibly. She really stirred that time, and I leaned down and spoke again in her ear, rather louder than before.

"Okay, Hermione, nap time's over, rise and shine. We need you, goddamn it!"

"What? Huh? Who?" Hermione mumbled.

"It's Raven, dear, get up now. You're lying in the mud."

"Am I?"

"Yes, now move."

I stood, flicking dirt off my robes and shaking some of the, now dry, mud from my hair.

"All right," I said, "I need a bath, I ought to take one while we still have some relative peace."

"Who are you talking to?" Ron asked.

I looked at him and deadpanned, "The people in my head."

Silence reigned, I rolled my eyes and said, "Myself, I do that, it's nice to keep a running commentary, you know."

"Er, okay," was all he seemed to be able to say.

"If you're quite finished," Snape said, after loudly clearing his throat.

"I am, for the moment." I smiled wickedly and walked towards the castle, picking my way through the remnants of the first exchange of blows, deliberately ignoring the hideousness of the scene.

They watched me go; I could feel their eyes in my back. I really didn't care what they thought; I was beyond caring. I was completely void of emotion by that point and their petty concerns had ceased to matter to me.

It's strange, you know, to be emotionless and know it. Most people deny such things, claiming that they feel for others when, in fact, they feel nothing. I, though I tended to deny a great deal, refused to deny my own emotions, or lack there of, as that case happened to be.

"Raven! Wait!" I heard Hermione call.

I twisted my head to look at her, "Yes?"

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know,"

"How fortunate it is that you have found the way to wisdom." Yes, that was sufficiently portentous for my tastes; I was attempting to act like an oracle.

"What?"

"The beginning of wisdom is the discovery of something we do not understand."

She shook her head, failing to comprehend what I was saying, "You like to play games with words. It gets so confusing sometimes."

"They're just words, there, I said them, they're gone. The only way they can be brought back is if someone listened and will repeat them. Words are transient, once spoken they are gone forever."

I then turned away again and walked up to the entrance to the school. The fifth years congregated there parted to allow me to pass. I barely acknowledged them. The truth was, I was shaken by the events I'd just played party to, and, of course, didn't want anyone to know this.

Once safely inside the school, I drew in a trembling breath and relaxed my tense shoulders. The strain of keeping a cool exterior was beginning to get to me.

Why do I still do it? It's unnecessary to keep up this front, but I can't bring myself to abandon it. Yes, it's ridiculous, I know this; it's just really ingrained into who I am. I wish to every deity there is that I could break this habit, but it won't go away. It won't go away. I need peace.

I felt the light, cold touch of despair's fingers then, and I knew that it would be a long time until I found peace. I slumped against the wall and rubbed wearily at my temples.

"Raven?" a voice I didn't recognize said hesitantly.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes and looked at the girl who was speaking to me. She was small, probably a first year, with shoulder length light brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles on her nose.

She's a cute little thing. I thought musingly.

"I'm fine," I paused, "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, everyone knows your name, because of what happened."

I frowned, "That's not good, I hate it when a lot of people know who I am."

"Oh, sorry,"

"It isn't your fault. What's your name?"

"Maria Woods, I'm a first year Gryffindor."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Maria."

"Are you sure you're okay?" her brow furrowed with concern, "You look so tired."

"I am tired," I admitted, "but I'm fine, really. Thanks for the concern, though, it was nice of you to ask." I looked closely at her, narrowing my eyes slightly, "What are you doing out here, anyway? Shouldn't you be in your common room, or the Great Hall, or something?"

"I was in the Gryffindor Common Room, with most of the house, but I left."

"Okay, it isn't my problem, so that's okay. The fight's over anyway. How many people are in the common room?"

"All the first through fourth years and a couple of the fifth years. The sixth and seventh year, and a few of the fifth years, are out here, fighting."

"The fifth years weren't fighting, they were guarding the entrance hall, the sixth and seventh years fought, though. I fought with them, I didn't want to, but I did."

"Wow," she looked at me, wide eyed, "What was it like?"

"Hell," I said simply, "it's like hell."

I leaned back against the smooth surface of the wall and stared into space for a few moments, thinking about all that had happened that day. Maria stirred uneasily then and I jerked myself back to reality.

Smiling gently at her, I said, "Why don't we walk back to the common room together? I'm tired and would like to relax."

"Okay!" she said eagerly, it lifted my spirits to see someone so happy to spend time with me. And, I have to admit it; I've always loved little kids.

I pushed myself off the stone wall and, smiling at her, began walking towards the stairs. She hurried to catch up with my longer strides and began chattering in that way only little girls can. I listened attentively and, for the first time in days, felt a little bit of peace.

Maybe, I thought, just maybe, peace will find me.