Reconstruction of a Death Eater

Chapter 42 - First Battle

Madam Pomfrey looked up in surprise as the door to the infirmary opened then squeaked as her two favourite partners-in-crime arrived. Roger grinned, returning her hug as Molly patted her back and began to unpack her pockets. Roger did the same, engorging the massed supplies they had brought with them.

"Thought you might need a few things," Molly remarked, popping a couple of crates of Skele-gro onto a shelf before engorging them.

"Pepper-up and Fortifying Potion, so much of them, how wonderful. We have already had our first casualties, one sprain and one death. I have worked here by myself for years but for the first time I felt totally overwhelmed by the responsibility of being the sole medical authority in the castle. And now you two arrive like a gift from Merlin."

It wasn't until the bounty was put away that Poppy thought to question their serendipitous arrival, but by then the rest of the Order members had gone off to join the defenders in the Great Hall and be assigned to their positions in the coming battle.

~~*~~

Pomona Sprout knew she was not a warrior as some of the other teachers were; she was a gardener, a grower of plants and a developer of cultivars, not a destroyer of lives. Oh, some of her creations were bloodthirsty creatures, part plant, part animal and capable of destroying living creatures. But on the whole, she was a peaceable person who preferred not to fight if she could help it.

When Harry warned them that the school was going to be the site of the last battle, she had immediately called in her sixth- and seventh-year classes to help save the plants in the greenhouses. Every plant was assessed and as many of the common ones as were ready were harvested immediately. The very rarest plants she had immediately sent off to her own private 'plant ark', a secret location known only to Neville Longbottom, Albus Dumbledore and her sister, Frieda. If anything happened to the school then the rarities and newly developed species would survive. Rare plants that could be split were immediately sent off, the cuttings and root slips sent to the Royal Horticultural College in the south so that they would have the benefit of the plants if they needed them.

Once the plants were guaranteed to survive, she then led her classes on a seek and destroy mission, denuding some of the outlying greenhouses of all vegetation, locking them down and rendering them impenetrable so that no one need defend them if there were not enough people to go around. The greenhouses actually attached to the school could not be mothballed in such a fashion and had to be physically defended if there was an attack. To help in the defences, the vegetation was cut back to the lowest possible height, paths were cleared through the beds and such interesting species as Devil's Snare, Bubotubers and Venomous Tentacular were encouraged to lie across the gravel and in the beds to catch the unwary.

Stone potting benches were levitated into position to act as breastwork to hide the defenders, and the roof water tanks were filled with acid so that anyone in the greenhouses could be doused from the overhead watering system. It would destroy the plants, but these were not botanically significant species or were so common that they could easily be replaced once the school was out of danger. If worse came to worst, they would not be particularly helpful to anyone who conquered the castle and the surprise in the sprayers might even strike a blow after the battle if the school was indeed lost.

All in all, Pomona had done what she could to make one of the weakest points in the defences of Hogwarts as secure as possible. If it came right down to it, she would even fight to the death to keep the enemy at bay until the huge blocks of stone poised inside the walls could be moved into place to block the corridors inside the building and close the holes in their defences. But that was a last ditch stand as there were still many vegetables and useful potions ingredients to be had from the greenhouses, even in their denuded state, enough good to outweigh the possible weakness the greenhouses presented. Sighing deeply, the rotund woman nodded to her fellow defenders and sat down behind the potting bench to await the rising of the sun or the first attack, which ever came first. Neville and Luna smiled back, taking their seats beside her, the rest of their group spreading out around the defences, equally dedicated to the defence of their school and their lives.

~~*~~

The attacking party that was approaching from the main gate thought they would be the first party to be engaged and were ready for anything. Before the moon touched the topiary figures with silvery radiance, they moved unchallenged through the rising paths toward the castle. Something rustled in the undergrowth and all five wands blasted, a patch of vegetation withering and dying under the massed killing curses. The disintegrating foliage revealed a very dead and very unlucky rabbit who had definitely been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Laughing uneasily, the party of five continued to slink from shadow to shadow, wondering where the vaunted opposition were and why they had been allowed to get within twenty metres of the walls.

"I don't like it," Louis d'Angou murmured to his partner, a black wizard from the middle of Sudan, the translation spell making him understandable.

"I don't like it either; I feel eyes upon me," Akim replied equally quietly, turning quickly when he thought he saw a movement in the shadows. Both men huddled closer together as their party leader, Mary Denkerry indicated the ivy clinging to the wall and suggested Markus Oddenburgh go first as he was the smallest and lightest of the five.

Shivering, the lightly built man began to climb the ivy covered wall, the others beginning their own climb as soon as the vegetation looked safe enough to hold their weights. Louis, last of the party, was just about to set foot to the lowest branch when Angela, a few feet above him suddenly let out a squeal of fright.

"What is it?" The question came from various shadows in the dark.

"I can't move my foot, my ankle is trapped between two branches," she muttered in disgust.

Huffing out a put-upon sigh, Louis moved to help free her ankle only to find the branch had somehow snagged his wrist. Tugging hard only seemed to tighten the woody hold on his flesh, and he hissed angrily. "This stuff is almost alive, it will snag you any way it can," he grumbled then stiffened as another branch very deliberately snaked out and wrapped around his waist. He let out a scream as he was dragged forward into the thick ivy, more branches winding around his torso as those already climbing were equally snared and pulled into the vegetation, the leaves covering their struggling, shrieking carcasses, branches invading their wide stretched mouths to smother their cries.

Five minutes later the thrashing disturbance had stopped and the ivy lay smooth and serene over the ancient stones, moving gently in the slight breeze that played over the glossy, extremely healthy growth of new leaves. All plants thrived on fresh blood and bone. Inside the castle, the five blips faded from the ward registry, no longer alive to become a threat to the castle's safety.

~~*~~

Moonrise was approaching, the werewolves gathered in the huge lecture hall put aside for their changes. Three smoking cauldrons stood on the teaching platform with a measured spoon to dole out the potion to each woman as she entered. There were three strengths of potion available, an eight-hour, sixteen-hour and twenty-four-hour strength, or at least, Snape was reasonably sure the differing strengths would give differing times, he hoped. Having the 'return to human' times staggered was Jonathon's idea, the majority of the changes to happen at the twenty-four-hour mark simply because he believed the worst of the fighting would occur on the first day. Whether he was right or not, no one knew, but they were willing to believe in him as he was the Alpha.

Most of the women were acting as if this was an exciting jaunt, laughing and giggling as they arranged themselves around the tiers of seating. One or two were apprehensive, but for the most part these were seasoned veteran werewolves who had changed many times as a pack and were confident that it would not be as bad as a group. Both Remus and Jonathon, as solitary males, were much quieter and more worried, both waiting silently before Lypy noticed and grabbed their arms, pulling them forward to join the naked, giggling group. Lypy was going to stay wolf for the full twenty-four hours, Remus for sixteen and Jonathon for eight hours so that the chain of command would not be broken. Once those who had changed back were recovered, they would return to the battle as humans if it was necessary.

Severus had wanted to be the one to serve his potion, but at the last minute fear had overcome his desire. Instead he had taken a long and heartfelt kiss from his werewolf, the implied promise of goodbye to poignant to be said aloud. Both men knew either one or both of them would not survive the battle, but neither said it in their last few moments together. Remus held those last lingering traces of Severus' scent close as they waited for the Mistress to come.

A pained howl from outside made them all stiffen, alerted to the fact that the moon had cleared the horizon. Jonathon nodded and smiled grimly as the first finger crept over the low windowsill to enter their room. One or two women seemed to move away from the silvery light, but the majority leaned into it, accepting and encouraging their transformation almost joyously. Jon and Remus shook hands then plunged forward into the glow, to the giggles of those capable of noticing. The werewolf forces for Hogwarts' defence were being activated.

~~*~~

Lurid hex light lit the horizon as the watchers on the roof looked toward Hogsmeade. An engagement was obviously being fought just over the brow of the hill. Harry moved fretfully then stiffened as Professor Dumbledore leaned forward, a smile lighting his old face. "There they go," he murmured, pointing slightly.

A faint wave of movement marked the massed pack as it skimmed over the short grass. They looked like liquid shadows as they moved silently, breaking into smaller groups to patrol the grounds, a larger group heading toward the fight.

"I wish we could go with them," Harry sighed as the werewolves disappeared over the hill.

"We have to stay here and wait until our resources can be used most effectively," Professor McGonagall reminded him slightly sourly; she too was impatient to 'get it over with'. "It's nice that Hogwarts manifested this useful set of battlements for us to watch from."

"Gives grandstanding a whole new meaning, doesn't it?" Hermione mentioned chattily, peering out between two authentic medieval crenulations. "Can we pour hot oil on anyone attempting to smash down the main doors?" she asked with academic curiosity.

There was a subdued chuckle then a thoughtful pause before Snape waved a hand and a cauldron appeared on the flagstones. "I can't see why not. Perhaps Incendio Solution would be more effective than oil," he mused, nodding when Minerva transfigured the water into the very volatile substance.

"That's the spirit, always thinking," Albus encouraged, his eyes still focussed on the horizon.

~~*~~

Scrimgeour knew he was outnumbered; even with the help of the Hogsmeade Militia there were not enough powerful or cunning wizards in the group to defeat the mixture of Death Eaters and trolls that were attacking his badly fortified position. Aberforth Dumbledore had been a tower of strength both magically and tactically as they fought off another troll, but the baying of the werewolves as soon as the moon rose made everyone cringe in horror. A wild burst of laughter came from the Death Eaters as the first of the wolves came bounding from the rear of their ranks, leaping high and long. Mid air, a second, lean grey body hit hard, cannoning the graceful shape sending them both snapping and snarling across no-man's-land in a bloodthirsty tangle. The flashing white teeth were the only discernable part of the mess until the two beasts sprang apart, circling with stiff legs and low held jaws.

Rufus nearly screamed when he realised there was a huge grey shape at his right shoulder, hot, foetid breath stirring the short hairs on his neck. Something slightly wet and limp was dropped on his hand and a long red tongue unrolled, making the beast look like it was laughing at him. An inch at a time, the Auror picked up the parchment and unrolled it, the note quite detailed.

'To the commander under fire. Our werewolves are wolfsbaned and can understand you. They have orders to support your troops and patrol the grounds. You can recognise our werewolves by the line of phosphorescence down their backs from nose to tail. There will be a surprise at moonset so do not worry and good luck!

Yours,

Albus Dumbledore'

"Sneaky little fellow, that brother of mine, isn't he?" Aberforth remarked, sending a hex winging out. "So, how do we want to deploy the werewolves?"

The large golden beast beside him yipped and four more werewolves slammed into the Death Eaters' lines, slashing their jaws and ripping anything they managed to get their teeth or claws into. Terrified, the Death Eaters began to Apparate out, leaving the trolls to cope with the slashing, ripping death, the defenders cheering slightly as they were relieved.

Teams of five werewolves attacked each troll, nipping and shoulder-charging at their legs in an attempt to bring them down. A lithe grey body got too close to a swinging club and yelped as ribs crunched, tumbling through the air to lay still. Suddenly the werewolves were no longer playing, fast and deadly efficient as they circled and harried their prey. The Aurors were wondering what to do about the fallen werewolf when the troll went down and disappeared under the weight of fur and teeth. Horrified, the defenders watched as the werewolves literally gnawed the troll's head off after tearing out its throat. One of them rolled the head well away from the body then howled a long and undulating note before they approached their fallen comrade.

A black wolf lay down beside the injured grey, licking the blood from her snout and whining deep in her throat until the grey wolf's ragged breathing stopped rattling. Slowly, the wolf body shifted, revealing a well built human female with a horrendously caved-in ribcage, the broken ends of ribs sticking through the skin. Even as the humans approached the black wolf stood up and with a swift crunch of her jaws, she severed the head from the neck and rolled it away with a single bat of her forepaw. Head thrown back she howled long and hard before snarling once at the audience then fleeing into the night. The wolf by Scrimgeour made him stagger as he tried to turn his wand on the fleeing figure, a low growl sending shivers down the listeners' spines.

"Why? Why remove the heads?" Aberforth mused then blanched enough to be seen even in the moonlight. "Oh Merlin protect us! Inferi! They are guarding against Inferi."

"What? But, but ... fucking hell! That's all we needed!" Scrimgeour snarled bitterly, surveying their own casualties in horror. He had fought against Inferi in the first war and had no wish to ever do that again. Swallowing sickly, he nodded to Aberforth and gave the order to behead the dead, the wolf at his side nodding slowly and distinctly before it too disappeared into the night. "Right, let's move further onto the grounds. Be careful, people, we don't want to kill the wrong troops."

~~*~~

Small groups of werewolves patrolled the grounds, attacking anything they didn't recognise as their own. All had lost friends and relations in the earlier attacks and mass slaughters of werewolves, and all had revenge on their minds. One small group found a French werewolf near the edge of the courtyard creeping up on the main wall and the watchers on the battlements were treated to a display of sheer ferocity that left many of them shaken to their cores. All that remained of the large male were a few bloody scraps of fur, not even enough for the man to revert to his human form in death. Snape clicked his tongue in disgust to see all that perfectly good potions material going to waste, but a few surreptitious accio spells rescued some flesh, bones and fur, also a little blood which he smugly bottled. Hermione snorted and cast her own accio, presenting the Potions Master with a full set of teeth and jaws, a self-satisfied grin of her own making him curl his lip at her, but he did not disdain her gift.

Fretfully, Harry raised the omnioculars to study a large looming shadow in the distance and swore fluently when he realised he was seeing a giant moving through the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Only Draco's hand on his arm stopped him dashing off on a hair brained suicide mission, the blond shaking his head and beckoning Weasley. All three students quietly left their elders to watch the darkness shadowed battle as they moved back into the castle.

"We need to think seriously about rounding up the various Dark Lord supporters here in the castle," Draco told them as they entered the Great Hall once again. "I would suggest we use the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw contingents of our trainee Auror group to do that as they are less likely to be attacked just on the suspicion they might be up to something."

"Good point," Ron conceded, scratching his head thoughtfully. "I think dawn would be the best, psychologically significant time, don't you think?

"Yes, good point, and we can use that idiotic Ravenclaw, Loomis, to assist our people. He wants to make a name for himself so he may as well be useful," Draco muttered sourly as they set off for the Great Hall where food and drink were laid on for what may be the long siege.

~~*~~

The Inner Circle moved restlessly as the lesser troops and their 'handlers' Apparated out to take up the battle at Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort sat on his throne, surveying those of his people who were tested and true, the real Death Eaters. This inner core had killed for him, had tortured and murdered and sweated for him, their belief in him lasting for over twenty years and their loyalty had been proven again and again. Bella and her husband were almost frenetic as they bounced on their toes and giggled, pushing and poking at each other and those around them. The Malfoys were seated quietly at a table, each sipping delicately at a glass of wine, as if they were awaiting the beginning of a formal reception, always the aristocrats, damn them.

Crabbe and Goyle stood behind them, stalwart bulwarks against the intrusion of mad Bella and her retinue. Azkaban had not been kind to a number of the Inner Circle, but by the end of the day his ideology would have triumphed over the pathetic forces of so called Light, impotent posers led by an old man and a child! He caressed the smoothly rounded stone of his new throne's arms, feeling the contained power within the chair. This was his seat of power in every sense, the Elemental forces dwelling within its confines -- his to command and deploy as he willed, to the complete annihilation of Dumbledore and the rest of his pathetic crew. Now was the time of his triumph, now the Dark Mark would fly proudly over Hogwarts and all would tremble beneath his heel. His dreams of power exalted him as his impatient troops waited for his command.