Harry Potter and the Battle for the Light

Blasting an Exit

Thursday 24th of October

Grounds of the Prison of Azkaban

Ron stood at the rendezvous point beside his team members and the recently rescued Minerva McGonagall, who had placed the unconscious Kingsley on the boat after undoing the transfiguration. They had decided to regroup at the docks, where their wooden ship floated gently a few feet away and would provide them with a swift retreat.

Five precious minutes had passed and they still had received no message or any indication as to the whereabouts of Harry. Ron could tell that the team was getting restless. There were only about ten minutes left before the alarms went off and the plan called for them to leave should that happen. Those who were unable to return before the Aurors and Death Eaters arrived were to be left behind.

"I don't like this," muttered Bill anxiously.

"Nobody does, Bill," replied the still fragile-looking Minerva McGonagall, nonetheless assuming her position as co-leader of the Order of the Phoenix. "Even so, the plan devised is quite straightforward. If we were to remain after the alarms go off we would find ourselves overpowered."

As cold as the statement sounded, Ron knew there was really no alternative. Six of the most skilled or powerful Order members were involved tonight, and they had recovered another two of the more senior members, including the co-leader of the entire resistance. If they failed to get back their allies would find themselves severely crippled.

Even so, the idea of losing Harry was daunting in many ways. Not only was he his best friend and brother but he was also the only one strong enough to stand up to Voldemort. Both sides of the war were putting a strong belief in the Prophecy and they could not afford to lose the rallying point of their forces.

Still, no matter how important Harry was, they had no choice but to leave him.

"This is bad," Neville said somewhat nervously. "The wards are seven minutes from crashing."

Everyone stood stock still watching the ominous prison, waiting for a signal, anything that might alert them of what was going on. They knew, from Ron's report, that Harry and he had failed to find the high security cell's location. That meant that Harry had to search the prison and hope to find Hagrid by sheer luck.

"How come they didn't kill you on the spot, Minerva?" Ron asked bluntly in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the fact that they would probably have to leave Harry and Hagrid behind.

"They probably would have done just that had it not been for Kingsley's quick thinking," she replied. At the quizzical expressions of the others she elaborated. "You-Know-Who tortured us for information personally. I remained stubbornly silent but Kingsley appeared to have relented," she added and shivered at the memory.

Everyone waited expectantly for her to continue. They knew that Kingsley would rather die than betray them, but they still could not see how he managed to fool Voldemort himself, let alone avoid death after been questioned.

"I do not have the details but I gathered that he staged quite the performance," she continued, clearly proud of his quick wits. "Kingsley informed the Dark Lord of our location, which he already knew, and about our attempts to contact foreign countries for support."

By now everyone was positively puzzled. If Voldemort got wind of their possibilities and ideas for getting out of the country they were doomed. Contacting foreign countries for resources and fighters was absolutely imperative. Although they had so far failed to escape Britain or send a message in any way, they could not lose hope. Thus, if Voldemort could anticipate their moves they would never get out. Moreover, if the Ministry realized which countries they were trying to contact and reported their carefully concocted lies about the Order most nations would surely be reluctant to get involved with a vigilante group. There were strict laws concerning international involvement in such matters and breaking them would allow Voldemort to assault foreign countries without fearing consequences from neutral countries such as United States, France, Italy and Spain.

"That was my first thought too," Minerva voiced her agreement once she noticed the looks she was receiving. "The brilliance is that he relayed information about the plans we already carried out undetected but did not work, not that Kingsley told him that. Apparently he was pleased that he was willing to talk about future plans and decided to review the warding around Britain."

"Blimey, that was some quick thinking on his part," Fred exclaimed, clearly impressed. The other nodded their agreement as they continued on their watch of the prison.

A few moments passed in silence before George spoke.

"I gather The Chief has been rather busy if he didn't question you two too much, right?"

"Yeah," Ron commented thoughtfully, "he was probably busy planning what to do about our foreign campaigns. With Kingsley's report he undoubtedly decided to check the wards and try to discredit us in the eyes of the International Confederation of Wizards. But he is much too well-known even in other countries. His presence would do him much more harm than good."

"Agreed," Minerva added. "He was most likely forced to send one of his political advisors to deal with the situation after he came up with a plan."

"I still don't understand why he didn't kill you after he got the information though, wouldn't have taken more than twenty seconds," said Bill anxiously.

Even though Minerva and Kingsley were checked for any kind of curse or potion that could somehow influence their minds and thus provide with details of the Order's ongoing activities, the results came out negative. They were also clean of any portkeys or magical influence that could tamper their thoughts or give any indications as to how to breach the Headquarters' wards, which was Voldemort's ultimate objective besides disposing of Harry.

Thus, the team had no concrete evidence as to why the prisoners were spared. However, as time and experience had proved one too many times, Tom Riddle was second-best to no one when it came to strategy and dirty tactics. Not surprisingly, the Order members present at Azkaban doubted the prisoners were spared out of kindness.

"I can only guess that he was counting on the personal relationships Harry has with Minerva, Kingsley and Hagrid, as well as how high up the chain of command they are, to use them as leverage," Ron replied in what Harry called his 'Strategy-tone'. "You-Know-Who probably thought we would try something reckless to get them back and hoped to cripple our resistance."

"As much as strategy, politics and international cooperation amuses me," interrupted Fred sarcastically, no doubt thinking about Percy's old job, "we can deal with this later. I think we've got another problem to-"

Whatever Fred was going to say was completely cut off by a loud wailing noise coming from the prison. Ron immediately felt the dread he had been holding at bay come back in full force as he thought of the causes and consequences of the alarms going off.

He looked at the faces of his companions and noted that they were having similar thoughts. If their expressions were anything to go by, everyone knew the consequences were fairly obvious: they had to leave and Harry was on his own.

The causes, however, Ron pondered anxiously, were even more unsettling. Since there were still about four or five minutes before the wards crashed that could only mean that Harry somehow triggered the cell's security because those could not be disabled from the outside and were the only ones still operational. If that was the case then Harry had only just reached Hagrid or he had been found and a guard had called for backup by means of a manual alarm.

Whatever the cause was, it did not bode well for Harry.

A series of colourful swearing that would have made a sailor blush was barely audible over the screeching noise as the Order considered their next move. Although they had planned what to do should the situation present itself, Ron could tell that the rest of the team was just as reluctant to leave Harry behind as he was.

"Damn, can anyone see anything?" yelled Neville over the noise, the chances of being overheard clearly impossible.

"No, still the same besides the flashing lights and the noise," Ron replied, his eyesight more acute than the others due to his Animagus form. "At least the wards won't crash now that the alarm went off."

"Those lights aren't jinxes or curses either, "Bill informed. "Ministry procedure dictates that in case of emergency the grounds around Azkaban must be illuminated in hopes of spotting the intruders. At least that's how it used to be."

As soon as Bill finished explaining Ron could tell he was at least partly right. Large circular sources of blinding light were sweeping the grounds in apparent random movements. He was almost positive that the strange instruments the prison employed were not only used for illumination though. Ron could feel a strange tingle on his skin that told him those devices were enchanted with more than just light.

He made a mental note to ask Hermione about possibly duplicating the devices, while trying to avoid them for now. His wife always seemed to find a way to enchant or transfigure things that proved useful.

"Don't make contact with those lights," Neville said. "I have a feeling that they are more than just lights."

"I felt it too," Ron agreed, not surprised that Neville had arrived at the same conclusion he had.

Minerva broke the silence after a few seconds of deep thought, voicing what they were all hoping to hear.

"We can stall our departure as long as the Aurors do not show up," a pale and nervous Minerva McGonagall said. "Our own Anti-Apparition and portkey wards should prevent them from blocking our only escape route."

Everyone nodded their heads in silent agreement as they watched the prison for any signs of Harry or the enemy. By now they expected to see some movement outside but apparently all the Aurors and Death Eaters had portkeyed inside of Azkaban.

Thursday 24th of October

Inside the Prison of Azkaban

Over two minutes passed by while Harry had a short conversation with Hagrid and healed his major injuries as best he could. When he was done he tried to get his friend to stand up. Half-giants, due to the inherent magic of their kind, could not be transfigured, charmed or made to change their physical structure in any way without harming them. If Hagrid wanted to get out of Azkaban he would have to walk on his own or Harry would have to levitate him all the way, a feat that would be incredibly draining.

"Come on, Hagrid, I'll help you up," said Harry as he flicked his wand.

The half-giant lifted off the ground horizontally and with another twitch of his wand, Harry deposited him gently on his feet. Immediately Hagrid staggered and had to use Harry and a wall to support his weight. He was still clearly injured and Harry was out of Restorative Draughts or Pepper-Up potions.

"'Spect...can' make it..., Harry," Hagrid mumbled hoarsely and more unintelligibly than usual.

"I'm having none of that, Hagrid," Harry said as sternly as he could muster. "I'll get you out even if I have to blast our way out," he finished fiercely.

With newfound determination Harry flicked his left wrist and his second wand came out. Another flick and Hagrid was floating a few inches over the ground, practically unconscious.

Harry turned towards the cell's exit and realized that he had not yet dispelled the wards. With no time to lose he pointed his right wand towards the iron bars and concentrated for a few seconds.

"REDUCTO!" Harry all but bellowed the incantation after drawing enough power.

The tell-tale deep red of the blasting curse burst from the tip of Harry's wand as his right arm literally recoiled back brusquely. Crimson light met shimmering blue for a split-second as it struggled against the fairly powerful wards in place.

Suddenly the bars exploded violently outwards in a shower of dust and scraps of iron that impaled on the opposite wall of the corridor. With the Dementors gone, the wailing alarms that were drilling his ears were back in full force.

Without wasting any more time Harry made his way towards the north tower he knew to be the exit with a barely conscious Hagrid floating behind him.

He ran as fast as his feet would carry him through the narrow corridors until he became aware of a cold presence somewhere between him and their freedom. With barely a thought his silver stag was galloping some feet ahead of him, chasing off the Dementors.

As he rounded the last corner before reaching the first staircase he spotted at least eight dark cloaked figures running towards him, their wands drawn and already firing curses.

A thick silver wall-like physical shield glimmered into existence, protecting him and Hagrid from the onslaught. Some curses bounced off harmlessly leaving scorch marks on the floor, ceiling and walls while other began forming cracks in his defences.

In a moment of inspiration he allowed the shield to crumble into large pieces of silver and with a flick of his wand Harry sent them flying towards the advancing enemies. Some of them dodged, others blasted pieces apart while two others were stabbed by the racing pieces of shrapnel.

The remaining Death Eaters must have realized who was attacking them for they forwent the plan of incapacitating him and began firing off killing curses. In response, Harry safely placed Hagrid around the corner and out of harm's way while he dodged three killing curses aimed directly at him and responded in kind.

With his two wands available he fired off twin killing curses. One of them met its mark while the other was blocked by a levitated piece of his silver shield. Without losing any time though, Harry traced an intricate pattern with his left wand while he poured power into the rune with his right. Soon a complicated figure was glowing red in front of him.

"Inferno!"

With a thrust of both of his wands a blazing mass of flames sped towards the unprepared Death Eaters and tore through their ranks, scorching them alive in the process.

Harry dropped his wands and bent over, panting with exhaustion. After all the power he had spent in the course of little more than half an hour he was beginning to feel the toll on his magic. However, he knew he had pushed himself further on other occasions. There was no reason to stay still for much longer.

While he waited a few seconds to recover his breath Harry took a moment to study his surroundings, or what was left of them. The scorch marks of the strayed curses that he had seen earlier had all but disappeared. Instead, the walls, ceiling and floor looked like they were made of molten stone. Parts of the structure still glowed bright red and the heat was making him sweat profusely.

There was no clue whatsoever that attested to the deaths of the Death Eaters. Only the smell of burning flesh lingered faintly in the air.

With a last appreciative glance at his handiwork Harry flicked his wand and brought over the now completely unconscious form of Rubeus Hagrid and with a swish of his other wand he cast a powerful Flame-Freezing charm on the floor.

The hissing sound of ice meeting heat reached his ears as he walked over the molten floor and ascended the staircase. No one interrupted his progress as he ran the length of the next corridor and ascended yet another staircase.

By now he expected the other Order members to have fled to safety. The wailing alarms meant that a mixture of at least fifty Aurors and Death Eaters must have portkeyed inside Azkaban or on the grounds surrounding the prison.

His frustration turned into desperation as he realized that not only did his Tactical-Talking-Tuner break upon descending through the prison but he could not even send his stag to communicate. The cold and negative presence that inhabited Azkaban made it all but impossible to maintain a Patronus so far away from the caster. It would never make it to the docks.

Anyhow, Harry could not decide if he should be grateful about forcing his friends to leave him or dread the possibility of having to break out on his own. He knew that under ideal circumstances he could escape inconspicuously. In his present situation, however, he doubted he would make it very far.

His thoughts abruptly came to a halt when the spiralling stairs that led to the office he previously searched with Ron came into view.

Two cloaked figures stood side-by-side blocking his escape route. Harry immediately noticed the giant green python emblazoned over their right sleeves, coiled along its length with its head slightly protruding over their hands. A silver plaque adorned their left shoulders, reflecting the only available source of light coming from a few torches.

Harry noted with no small apprehension that these were members of the newly reformed inner circle of Death Eaters. Moreover, the two cloaked figures facing him were part of the elite fighters that made up Voldemort's ranks. The distinctive silver plaque differentiated them as such.

With his magical reserves as low as they were, carrying an unconscious half-giant behind him and quite possibly being about to be spotted by other guards or Dementors, Harry's chances of overpowering these two wizards were very slim.

He unconsciously took a step backwards as he considered his possibilities, a movement that was not lost by his enemies' eyes.

"Going somewhere, Potter?" asked one of the cloaked figures. It was impossible to tell who was behind the mask. Too many Obscuration Charms were in place along with a Voice-Changing charm that made his or her voice sound as cold as ice.

"I gather there are more of you posted on the different exits?" Harry asked, ignoring the question and hoping to buy some time while he worked on a strategy.

"Azkaban is sealed from the outside, Chosen One," answered the other figure sarcastically. "At least two of us cover every possible exit and more are available should we need them."

Harry wordlessly thanked Tom Riddle for his questionable habit of gathering the most powerful but at the same time senseless wizards available. If he had been planning on running off to another part of the prison looking for an alternative exit they certainly narrowed down his options. Moreover, they also informed him that there were wizards or some kind of resistance around Azkaban.

"All right, then," Harry said, putting an act of feeling dejected and resigned to failure. "I guess you've thwarted my solo rescue mission."

Once again, Voldemort proved Harry how he valued power over intellect.

"Correct, Potter. Are you coming in quietly or do we have to kill both you and the oaf you carry?" asked the first Elite. Harry could almost hear him sneering like an idiot. However, the two cloaked figures unwittingly told Harry all he needed to hear; apparently they had not got wind of the rest of his team, wherever they were.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen...or are you witches?" Harry asked in what he hoped would be a taunting voice; he was too deep in thought to tell. "Looks like it's me and you...care to give it a try?" he finished as he raised a finger and beckoned them towards him.

"You arrogant bastard," snarled one of them furiously. "I shall call the Dark Lord when I have you begging us for mercy!"

Harry rolled his eyes at the theatrics and looked over his shoulder towards the still unconscious form of his friend. There was no place to hide him now, Harry realized, so he would have to shield Hagrid as best he could while avoiding getting himself killed.

Taking advantage of the enraged state of his opponents, Harry thrust both of his wands forward without warning and began firing low-powered hexes and jinxes as fast as he could. Neither of the Elites hesitated a second before conjuring their shields and retaliating.

Although their curses were much more powerful and damaging than those he was firing, Harry had the advantage of speed in both casting and movement. Jets of light of different colours streaked through the air, cracking stones and scorching the walls and ceiling in the process.

A particularly well aimed Cutting-Hex caught Harry on his left thigh, effectively restraining his movements. He was relying fundamentally on dodging since he could not muster the power required to deflect the onslaught being thrown at him.

As best as he could Harry continued to dodge Entrails-Expelling Curses, Killing Curses and other nasty bits of magic that would have successfully killed him had he been hit while he waited for the perfect opportunity.

After ducking to avoid a perfectly aimed Avada Kedavra Harry surreptitiously pointed his left wand at Hagrid while he continued to fire curses with his right. He levitated Hagrid as high as the ceiling allowed him to and at the same time switched tactics.

While his friend hovered over him Harry jabbed both wands in an identical pattern and soon the corridor was filled with a silver mist that hid him from his enemies. A green-eyed black viper replaced the form of Harry Potter and slithered over the cold stone towards the spiralling staircase.

The deranged wizards continued to fire curses blindly and tried to dispel the mist while he slithered beside them, aided with the snake's eye-sight. He recognized the two glowing red forms that contrasted with the cold blue surroundings.

Once he made it past the Elites, who by now were meeting some success while dealing with the silver mist, Harry transformed back to his human form and holstered both wands. Given how low his magical reserves were at the moment it didn't make any sense to waste what little he had. With his right hand he reached over his right shoulder and ever so slowly pulled out a gleaming silver sword.

The hilt was embossed with an emerald on the pommel. The grip was made with black leather, allowing optimum handling. The blade itself was a rather simple but sharp piece of metal. A goblin that lived with the Order in The Valley had crafted it especially for him. Rockjalk, the goblin, had explained something about different alloys that provided a sharper edge and other things but Harry did not quite understand the specifics.

All he needed to know was how to move it.

Harry spread his legs apart, his left forward, and held the sword firmly with both hands. With two quick and fluid horizontal motions he severed their heads. Both bodies and heads fell with a dull thud as blood began to spread around them. Harry replaced his sword in its sheath and dispelled the mist he had conjured.

The corridor in front of him immediately came into view and he saw Hagrid floating ungracefully, almost touching the ceiling. The sight would have been hilarious if the half-giant had not been looking so pale, the bruises had been less visible and no blood had been falling in heavy drops to the floor.

Harry levitated Hagrid towards him and proceeded to inspect him. Apparently he had missed a rather severe gash on the inside of his thigh, which immediately reminded him of his own wound.

While he worked on healing he spared a glance at the dead wizards. Harry supposed he should feel some guilt after killing a human being when he could have avoided it. However, not for the first time, he just could not seem to care.

These were the bastards that had killed his parents, Sirius, Fleur, Dobby, Molly and many others in cold blood. Not only had they killed family, friends and people he knew, but they had also murdered Ginny.

The simple thought made him shake with fury and his magic to swirl out of control. Harry had to close his eyes and count to ten so as to focus on Hagrid's vicious slash. He had already avenged her death and pledged to imprison or kill those who rallied themselves around Voldemort. There was no use in throwing a temper tantrum over it.

They would all pay in the end, and he was going to make damn sure of it.

After treating both injuries as best as he could Harry climbed the spiralling stairs and successfully avoided bumping Hagrid's head on the steps.

When they finally reached the office Harry realized it looked exactly as he had left it. Either Ron did not see the need to search more thoroughly or he found what they needed and decided to make it look as nothing had happened. Probably the former, he decided.

Once again, the damn window proved to be a nuisance. First he did not know how to open it and now he had no idea as to how to make Hagrid fit through it. He decided he would try and blast it apart. The wailing alarms had made such things as stealth utterly useless.

Before jumping out like a madman Harry approached the window to have a look at the grounds. He had purposefully pushed thinking that his team members would have probably left by now out of his mind. However, he was both pleased and annoyed to see flashes of light dancing from the dock towards Azkaban's entrance and vice versa.

Apparently the Order was buying him some time before they gave up on him. They were putting up a good battle considering that they were outnumbered around five to one. Although they held the higher ground it was a battle they would not win.

Without wasting any more time Harry backed away from the window and moved Hagrid behind the desk. He raised his right wand and concentrated for what he hoped was the last time before a good night's sleep.

"Bombarda"

As the window, and a considerable part of the wall around it, exploded outwards, Harry became aware of a hasty drop of temperature along with scurried footsteps and shouts coming from below.

Not wanting to engage in any more fights than were strictly necessary, Harry quickly levitated Hagrid so that he trailed behind him and jumped out through the opening he had created.

Thursday 24th of October

Grounds of the Prison of Azkaban

A group of five wizards and a witch waited anxiously by the docks of the prison of Azkaban. In the course of about ten minutes they had seen a few Dementors roaming around the main entrance of the building but no Aurors or Death Eaters had shown up.

As far as Minerva McGonagall was concerned, this was good news. They had decided to wait until the last minute before departing. That meant that they were willing to hold incoming enemies as long as they could so as to give Harry a chance to escape, however unlikely it was.

Deep down she knew that if anyone could make it, it was that boy. Minerva did not know how he did it but Harry always seemed to land on his feet, or at least on his knees. That tendency he had of diving head-first into danger and emerging alive was both admirable and very annoying.

Despite her contradictory feelings regarding Harry's trait, she was holding onto the possibility of seeing him again by means of his 'sheer dumb luck', as she had heard some people calling it before.

Suddenly, a group of twelve black-robed figures appeared out of thin air at the front gates of the prison. They dropped some kind of shimmering-blue object on the ground and drew their wands, pointing them at the doors.

Adding to the dread she was already feeling, Minerva realized that they were waiting for Harry to emerge in order to kill him on the spot. She looked at her colleagues and saw similar pale faces staring at the new arrivals, cursing under their breaths.

She was jolted out of her observations by the triumphant voice of one Ronald Weasley.

"Oh, now they did it," he said quietly, a hint of glee and something else she could not quite put her finger on. "The idiots think Harry's coming out the front gates," he finished, laughing coldly.

They all turned to look at him expectantly. Minerva noticed a subtle difference between her own reaction and those of Ron's brothers and Neville. While she was genuinely curious and sceptical about his comment, the rest appeared almost eager. If she could bring herself to admit it, Minerva would say that they looked downright frightening.

"Enlighten us, little brother," one of the twins said gleefully.

"Please do, we all recognize that look of yours," said the other, equally eager.

Unlike other times when Minerva would have dreaded to know what could possibly put the Weasley twins in such a state of anticipation, she found herself drawn into the mood of the wizards surrounding her. Whatever the boy had in mind, she knew it would be good; or at least, good for them.

"All right, listen up," Ron said quietly. "These ruddy bastards are waiting for Harry over there," he continued, pointing at the gates, "but he's not coming that way. If I know Harry at all, he'll be jumping out the window."

"I agree, Wings. Harry will come out the way he went in," said Neville calmly, only his eyes betraying the fact that he understood what Ron was planning ahead of her. While Minerva realized that Harry would not be ambushed by the Death Eaters, she was sure that part of the plan eluded her if their looks were anything to go by.

"Quite," Ron continued. "To ensure Harry has a chance to make it out alive we'll need to draw their attention to the door and make sure more guards are posted there. Dementors will come our way, also clearing a path for Harry."

Ron looked at his team mates expectantly and she could not help but feeling proud of the young man that had once beaten her transfigured chess-set at the tender age of eleven.

After receiving nods of agreement, he continued explaining his plan. She had to admit that the plan was, well...outstanding. Harry's chances of making it to the docks increased with each input they added.

Finally, the plan was forged. It was not dead perfect due to the short amount of time they had to plan it. However, Minerva felt that Harry's wisest choice since he re-entered the magical world had to be befriending Ronald Weasley.

Thursday 24th of October

Grounds of the Prison of Azkaban

"Activate your hearing devices," said Ron quietly.

The team tapped their wands over the white pieces of modified Extendable-Ears and spread out towards their respective positions.

Since Minerva did not have one of the devices, Neville was to be paired with her to avoid mistakes in coordination. They both moved stealthily and took their positions behind a rather large boulder at the left from the dock.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the twins conjure matching rocks that effectively hid them completely and provided them with protection. Meanwhile, Ron and Bill moved towards the right, ducking behind another huge boulder that covered them completely, even while standing straight.

Neville shifted his undivided attention to Ron and watched him concealing a few Restorative Draughts and Pepper-Up potions and then levitating them towards the base of the north tower. They had agreed that Harry would need a little pick me up after his efforts.

"Package is set, wait for my signal," he heard Bill's whisper in his ear.

Neville relayed the message to Minerva and shifted his focus towards the front gates of the prison where the Death Eaters were standing. They had formed a semi-circle in hopes of catching Harry off guard. He bitterly had to admit that their tactic would have been good if only Harry decided to take a tour of the facilities.

However, there was one advantage they had over them. Lord Voldemort did not know how the Order operated since Albus Dumbledore had died. Neville could tell that their modus operandi had been very different from what they were doing since the Battle for Hogwarts.

Hence, while Voldemort was at a loss as to trying to predict their moves, Harry and most members of the Order were well acquainted with his usual moves and strategies. Ron had made a point of studying previous encounters and his dedication proved to be very useful.

"This is it, remember your responsibilities," Neville heard Ron say and immediately motioned for Minerva to get ready.

"Blasting Curses on three...two...one-"

"REDUCTO!"

Six beams of deep red burst from the tips of their wands and sped towards the group of waiting Death Eaters. As a whole, they turned their heads in time to watch the approaching threat and call for help before the spells struck.

None of the Order's members had aimed directly at the wizards. The practical approach, since they were outnumbered, was to aim at the ground. And just as they had predicted the damage was severe.

Chunks of earth, rocks and a few limbs exploded where the blasting curses impacted. Out of the twelve Death Eaters only three survived but their bodies were so damaged that they posed no threat. Even from the distance Neville could count seven legs disconnected from bodies and a shower of blood coating the grounds.

The plan next called for 'Fire at Will', as Ron had named it. Hence, the Order members proceeded to launch any and every spell they came up with towards the gate while keeping an eye on their surroundings.

Different spells struck the stone walls of the prison, leaving great pieces of rock missing. A particularly well-aimed curse set the wooden front doors on fire and they could already hear the frantic shouts from the guards posted there.

Suddenly Neville noted that the air seemed to be turning colder and he could hear shouts inside his head. He desperately closed his Occlumency shields to block his parents' screaming and Lestrange's laughter.

"Dementors coming! Mind the middle and the right side!" Neville called when he noticed two groups of around five Dementors each closing in from both sides.

True to their tasks, the Weasley twins conjured their patronuses and directed them at the two groups of scattered Dementors approaching. The two identical mid-sized silver monkeys jumped around soundlessly, chasing the foul creatures away from them.

With that problem covered, the rest of the Order members renewed their efforts of causing as much damage to the front entrance of the prison as possible. Ron's plan suggested they forced the guards and Death Eaters to cover that flank, while leaving Harry's escape route relatively deserted.

They were counting on their enemies to act rashly. They would no doubt think they intended to keep the front entrance of Azkaban clear because Harry planned to escape that way. While their efforts concentrated on the six of them Harry would surreptitiously approach the docks and they would make their retreat.

As they had expected, in the midst of their spell-fire, groups of Death Eaters and Aurors alike forced their way out of the gates and spread out. Some took cover behind boulders while others erected shields and returned fire.

In barely twenty seconds the Order of the Phoenix was caught in a battle they could not win. There were at least thirty-five enemies littering the grounds while they tried to hold positions at the docks.

"We need a miracle or we'll have to flee right now!" Neville heard one of the twins calling.

"We bought Harry only five minutes, we need to at least make it ten!" Ron answered.

Neville doubled his concentration on his task and continued to reinforce his boulder while firing a series of blasting and ripping curses. He was just about to launch another volley when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned his head and saw McGonagall conjuring a rock as big as a small car. She was levitating it on the left side of their protective boulder.

"I conjure and you banish, understood?" she asked hoarsely. Apparently conjuring and levitating such a huge rock was weakening her already debilitated state.

Neville nodded and immediately concentrated a short but powerful burst of magic in his hand. He allowed the tingle to linger a few seconds and then thrust his wand forward.

"EXPULSO!"

There was a blast of blue light and then the rock was flying fast towards the front group of Death Eaters. They tried to blast it apart or even to arrest its momentum but it proved fruitless. The large boulder continued its course, occasionally losing a piece that nevertheless raced forwards.

With an ominous rumble the vast piece of rock landed in front of the Death Eaters and rolled over them, effectively killing at least three of them. It continued to roll towards the gate, forcing the startled witches and wizards to dive aside lest they be killed too.

"Bloody brilliant!" he heard the twins and Ron shout at the same time.

"Keep it up, you guys!" Bill said.

Neville nodded to Minerva who looked exhausted but nodded back and conjured another boulder to throw at their enemies.

Thursday 24th of October

Grounds of the Prison of Azkaban

Ron saw another boulder fly over his head and land three hundred feet away, burying a group of four Death Eaters that had taken cover behind another big rock. He supposed Minerva did not transfigure things to attack due to the distance between them and their enemies. Anything she could do would be vanished or killed before it reached their ranks.

However, he was not too worried about that. The distance between both sides provided them with good cover and effectively prevented them from being overpowered too soon. After all, they were not fighting to win but to buy Harry some time. They could only hope it would be enough.

As Ron was firing several incendiary curses that created scattered fires to burst from the ground an idea struck him. It was potentially dangerous and recklessly insane, but nonetheless brilliant.

He quickly conveyed his plan to his team and then adopted his Animagus form. Without waiting to hear agreement or disagreement Ron took off into the sky, being careful to fly right in an arc to avoid any stray spells or being spotted ahead of time.

Ron soared over the battle and noted the positions of his enemies. Most of the Aurors, distinguishable due to their red-clad robes, were taking cover where they could. A few Death Eaters, however, were trying to advance unnoticed and wreck havoc from the sides.

As soon as he landed on the roof of the prison, Ron transformed back and looked down cautiously. So far no one had spotted him and he had a clear view of his enemies, plus the advantage of the higher ground.

He conveniently positioned himself directly above a group of Death Eaters that had gone unnoticed and drew his wand. Before any of them realized what was happening Ron swished and flicked his wand, concentrating on the whole group.

The five Death Eaters suddenly found themselves speeding upwards, levitated by an unseen force. Fearing being hit by stray curses or the giant flying rocks they conjured shields and tried to dispel the levitation charm.

Unfortunately for them, they did not succeed. With a last twirl of his wand, Ron dropped the Death Eaters from a height of about a hundred and fifty feet. Panicked yells filled the air as both the Order and the Aurors stopped to watch the group of five wizards fall to the ground. With a sickening crunch, they landed hard on the hard earth and moved no more.

Ron smirked in triumph as he lay flat on the roof to avoid the inevitable response-fire from those below him. Even as he remained out of spell-range he took a leaf out of Minerva's book and began conjuring pieces of rock and metal as big as he could make them.

Admittedly, they were not as big as hers, but they did the job anyway. Ron did not even bother to haul them towards the ground. He allowed gravity to drop the boulders and spears on the unsuspecting Death Eaters and Aurors while he remained out of reach.

Suddenly he heard a loud blast coming from his left and then saw a shower of red sparks that caught his attention. He turned to watch Bill pointing his wand at the north tower. Curious, Ron followed the line of sparks and what he saw lifted his spirits immensely.

Two dark figures, one noticeably bigger than the other, were falling fast to the ground. About eighty feet before they crashed they began to slow down until they landed lightly on their feet.

Without waiting any longer, Ron placed the tip of his wand to his temple, concentrated for a split-second and then pointed it towards the direction of Harry and Hagrid. Since the Tactical-Talking-Tuners did not work from such a long distance, a Patronus was his only means of communication.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silver terrier burst from Ron's wand and flew straight towards the dark figures lying on the ground, carrying a message he was sure Harry wanted to hear.

Thursday 24th of October

Grounds of the Prison of Azkaban

Eighty feet before crashing on the ground Harry pointed his right wand downwards and pointed his left wand at Hagrid.

"Arresto Momentum"

Instead of violently stopping the fall both wizard and half-giant decelerated until they reached the ground. Harry's knees barely buckled before Hagrid landed lightly on his back beside him.

Wary of the cold and the voices in his head he spun around in an attempt to spot the Dementors but could not see any nearby. He figured they were roaming the grounds, probably trying to get near the Order members that were admirably holding their own against the onslaught.

Out of nowhere he began to feel warmer and turned his head in time to see a silver form approaching. Twenty feet before it reached him he identified the Patronus as belonging to Ron. The silver terrier was moving fast and soon it landed beside him and opened its mouth.

Ron's voice was barely audible over the noise of the battle so he leaned over to listen.

"Nice of you to join us, mate. I stashed a couple of vials you might want to drink below the north tower with standard concealing charms. Get to the docks as soon as you can, we'll keep them busy."

His best friend's silver guardian vanished into mist and the cold came back in full force. However, Harry was undeterred. Not surprisingly, Ron thought ahead and all he had to do now was find the potions.

Harry waved his wand in a circular arc in front of him, the north tower straight ahead. He immediately spotted a dull flickering green light on the ground, near the wall of the building. With a flick of his wand and a muttered 'Accio', a set of five Pepper-Ups and three Restorative Draughts flew towards his outstretched hand.

After forcing some potions down Hagrid's throat he drunk one of each himself and immediately began to feel much better. He felt his energy returning and the cold no longer seemed so bad. His magic though, was still fairly low.

"Ennervate," Harry intoned quietly. His emergence had not been registered and he intended to keep it that way until they arrived at the rendezvous point.

Hagrid stirred and then gradually opened his eyes. He was still haggard looking but much better than he had been mere minutes ago.

"'Arry?" Hagrid asked, still somewhat dizzy. "Oh, Merlin."

"Hagrid, good to see you awake, my friend!" Harry spoke cheerfully. The half-giant had been such a constant in his life that he could not bear the thought of losing him. Although they were still surrounded by enemies and in the midst of a battle, seeing him awake and coherent put Harry in a better mood than he had been for the past month.

Thursday 24th of October

Grounds of the Prison of Azkaban

Hagrid looked around slowly, trying to take in his surroundings to truly comprehend what was happening. He looked at Harry's cloaked form, immediately recognizing the hilt of his sword protruding above his right shoulder. He was holding two wands, one in each hand. The most distinctive feature though, was his eyes. He immediately recognized the emerald pools and realized it was really him.

The sight brought a smile to his face for the first time since he had been captured, long ago for him to remember; much too long.

He then shifted his focus towards the building behind Harry and stiffened. Azkaban stood as impressive as ever, an enormous dark rock shooting straight up. Only the light coming from a half-destroyed room at the tallest tower shone through the darkness of the building.

Faint noises to his left caught his attention and what he saw made him gasp audibly. Hagrid got to his feet as fast as he could, using some support from Harry. His limbs ached dully, particularly his left leg. He found he could not breathe properly and vaguely remembered being kicked one too many times. To top it all, he had a pounding headache and his body in general felt stiff and unresponsive.

With visible effort, he focused his gaze towards the spells, curses and objects that were flying back and forth, from the front gates of the prison to the docks. He eventually understood that Harry was here with some other Order members. They must have come to get them out of hell.

"Thank ya', 'Arry," he said sincerely, tears forming in his eyes. He abruptly pulled the young wizard into a hug and patted his back a few times.

"No need, Hagrid, no need," Harry said with a smile. "Let's just get out of here as fast as we can."

Hagrid nodded shakily and they both began part walking and part running towards the edge of the island. With no apparent reason at all Harry pointed his right wand over Azkaban and a silver stag burst from the tip and appeared to land somewhere on the roof of the prison. Whatever he had done, he did not explain and Hagrid did not feel the need to ask.

He did not care for much besides leaving this place and never coming back.

With considerable help from Harry they carefully made their way over to the other Order members that were apparently creating a distraction for them to get back safely.

Harry would occasionally launch a volley of spells at a few cloaked figures that attempted to approach them. Other times he would flick his wand to deflect a stray curse that came too close to them.

Bless the boy, Hagrid thought half-fondly and half-proudly, breaks in and out of hell to get us.

Hagrid suddenly remembered that he was captured alongside Kingsley and Professor McGonagall. He turned to Harry to ask the question but found he was already pointing ahead.

Following the direction of his wand Hagrid saw Minerva McGonagall in all her glory, launching spells left and right, occasionally hurling over a giant rock towards her enemies. He assumed Kingsley was safe in the boat, probably too injured to assist in the fight.

Thursday 24th of October

Grounds of the Prison of Azkaban

Directly ahead of him, Aurors and Death Eaters were firing off curses as fast and brutally as they could. Bill ducked, fired a volley of curses of his own and then ducked again to avoid being hit.

He had already been hit with a rather nasty hex that caused his wand-arm to erupt in boils. A second time he was caught on his left shoulder with a Severing Curse that left a deep gash that still bled copiously. Bill had made a half-hearted attempt at healing himself or at least stopping the flow but it was no use.

He had been born to break down wards and buildings, not heal injuries.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Harry and Hagrid where getting close. They were about two hundred feet from reaching the rendezvous point and soon they would be going home.

The battle was still raging on but, whereas their enemies seemed to materialize from thin air, the Order members were gradually relenting. Bill could already feel himself weakening from the effort and he doubted his magical core could provide him much more than he had already used.

The others were not fairing much better either. Neville and Minerva had given up their rock-throwing tactic, apparently too weakened to continue. They were both cut in various places on their bodies and their robes were stained with blood.

The twins were throwing an array of low-powered but effective jinxes and hexes. They were not intended to kill but to incapacitate, which in Bill's opinion was more than enough given the current conditions. However, Fred and George were not unscathed. Much the same as the others, they were sporting a few nasty cuts and George appeared to have broken his left leg.

Bill ducked in time to avoid a flash of green light and noted that Harry and Hagrid were twenty feet away. If only Ron could make it back now, they would be out as soon as possible.

Without bothering to acknowledge his presence, Harry swished both wands at the same time and conjured a modest-sized black boulder. He ducked behind it while he pointed Hagrid towards the wooden boat.

Bill gathered the last reserves he had and threw a volley of blasting and banishing curses, hoping to keep the Death Eaters back. He noticed Harry tapping his Talking-Tactical-Tuner with his wand and immediately heard his voice.

"We made it to the rendezvous point", Harry announced clearly, but Bill noticed he looked rather pale and his voice sounded exhausted. "It's time to go home. Ron, get here as fast as you can, we can't hold much longer."

"Nice hearing you, I'm on my way," came Ron's voice. Bill barely saw him transform on the roof and then take off towards the dock.

With renewed strength at the prospect of making it out alive with their friends, the Order doubled its efforts. The amount and frequency of the curses being thrown at the Death Eaters and Aurors increased noticeably and Bill could tell they were pulling back, seeking cover before returning fire.

Bill suddenly heard a gasp and a muffled scream of pain from his left and turned to see Harry clutching his forehead with his left hand while trying to maintain fire with his right. All prospects of a safety departure fled his mind as he realized what this meant: Voldemort had arrived.

Thursday 24th of October

Grounds of the Prison of Azkaban

The black and red hawk took off from the roof of Azkaban towards the dock, the prospect of living through this ridiculous rescue mission ringing inside its head. Ron had to admit that it had been planned as best as it could have been, but that did not mean it was foolproof.

Once again, he realized they had been saved by the Golden Trio's sheer dumb luck.

Ron flew to the left, avoiding the stray curses, and finally reached the giant boulders that shielded the Order from the onslaught. Even before he landed he realized something was wrong.

Harry was clutching his forehead, trying in vain not to scream in pain. The others had paled dramatically and were staring past their protections towards the entrance of Azkaban.

With no small amount of apprehension, Ron turned his head and felt like a piece of lead had just found its way into his stomach.

Lord Voldemort was standing gracefully in front of the prison, Ron's sharp eyesight allowing him to see his expression. The Dark Lord looked positively livid, his black and green robes billowing behind him and his red eyes burning everything in his sight.

Around their master, a group of eight Death Eaters with a silver plaque on their left shoulders and a green python over their right arms were standing stock still with their wands pointed at the Order members.

Wasting no time, Ron flapped his wings desperately and landed beside his terrified brother Bill.

"This is it," came the anxious voice of Neville, "if he attacks he'll break our wards in a second and we'll be surrounded."

"Bloody hell...don't move and try to think of something then," Ron spoke. His voice was laden with concern and apprehension.

One wrong move and they were done. Ron knew that Harry was in no state to fight. Besides, those bloody Elites were no joke either and all members of the Order were almost completely drained. The way Ron saw it, there was no option other than run and hope to make it to the boat and out of Azkaban before Voldemort broke the wards; something he knew to be highly unlikely.

He was broken out of his musing by the voice of Harry, sounding resigned but completely determined.

"Start moving to the boat now, you know the command to activate the portkey," he said calmly and determinedly. "I'll hold him off for about a minute and that's the best I can do. Get moving and I'll jump in before you get too far."

Ron stared at Harry for a moment and then turned to watch the rest of them. They were wearing resigned but reluctant expressions, much like he imagined he was wearing too. There was nothing they could do but take the chance and hope all of them would make it out alive. If the worst came to happen, at least eight of them would live through this and continue to fight the war.

"NOW!" Harry roared impatiently.

"Take care, mate. Don't do anything stupid, just hold him off and flee," Ron said, ignoring the fact that he sounded almost pleading.

The rest of the Order expressed similar wishes and retreated towards the boat. Minerva flicked and twisted her wand in an intricate pattern and the wooden boat expanded to sit more than ten people comfortably.

Once they were all set in they set the ship in motion and slowly drifted away from the wooden docks. They could still see Harry's dark figure, who had now stepped aside from his boulder and had both of his wands held loosely in his hands.

Without warning, Harry began lifting and dropping his hands over and over again. If Ron had not known any better, he would have thought that Harry was trying to fly away.

The pale faces of the other Order members switched from puzzled to shock, and then to triumph as they realized what Harry was doing. Each time Harry lifted his hands, wands held tightly in each one, pieces of rock about the size of a human head levitated about ten feet to the air.

When Harry stopped levitating rocks, Ron estimated around forty of them floated above him. As soon as the Order realized what he was going to do, the Death Eaters and Voldemort started firing curses.

Jets of light of different colours sped towards Harry, who was standing still, not even attempting to dodge. His plan, however, came into view when curses that would have hit him got near. The levitating rocks swerved down and took the brunt of the attack, exploding into dust.

While Harry intercepted curses with rocks, he somehow managed to levitate more of them to replace those that exploded in front of him, no doubt due to his mastery at using two wands at the same time.

Eventually the Death Eaters, Aurors and Voldemort caught on to what he was doing and switched to banishing curses, which instead of blowing up the rocks, simply hurled them backwards towards him.

Harry must have decided it was time to flee because he turned around and ran as fast as he could, using the large boulders as cover. Every now and then he would erect a weak shield that at least took care of most of the momentum of the rocks, which only seemed to make him stagger every time he was hit.

By the time Harry reached the end of the wooden dock, the boat Ron and the others were sailing had almost passed the entrance that separated the northern seas from the small artificial bay of the prison.

Just as Ron was beginning to worry about how Harry would make it to the boat, he pointed both wands behind him, angling slightly towards the ground. A split-second later Harry was quite literally flying with no control whatsoever, headed for the general direction of the ship.

Ron was too stunned to make a move but luckily Bill and Neville were not as they half-levitated and half-summoned Harry to the boat, placing him gently in a sitting position.

All eight of the still conscious Order members leaned forward to take a look at him and were relieved to see he was still breathing and Neville confirmed he had a steady pulse. However, they did notice that he was completely out of it. Either too tired to move or unconscious, they did not know, but it did not matter.

They had made it out of the Lion's Den and now it was time to go home.

With a last glance at the Prison of Azkaban, the Order members tapped the wooden boat with their wands, muttered "Refuge" and the portkey activated, taking them just outside the wards placed around The Valley.