The Dementors' Kiss

Chapter Twenty: Hogsmeade At War

Harry swallowed slowly, feeling as though the slightest move would trigger an all out attack by Voldemort's forces. The whole of Hogsmeade was silent, and Harry could feel the breeze blowing gently on the back of his neck. The Death Eaters and the Dementors stood still where they had Apparated, savouring the sight before them. The pupils of Hogwarts School, plus the population of Hogsmeade, all stood at their mercy. Harry shivered as though he could feel the wave of malevolent, perverse pleasure washing off the black-clad figures.

"Crucio!"

The muttered conjuring cut through the silence like a blade. It was followed a second later by an agonised scream as one of the witches who served in the post office was caught by the Cruciatus curse. She jerked horribly as though being crushed by an invisible hand. A wizard standing nearby looked as though he wanted to help her, but was restrained by a hand on his arm. The Death Eater whose hand it was strode easily through the crowd, tapping a silver-capped cane on the ground as he walked, the only thing moving other than the screaming, twitching woman.

"Enough!" The single word lashed out like a whip, and the woman dropped to the ground, whimpering in her agony. The Death Eater stood over her, the cane in his hand. He prodded her sharply, and then turned to look at another Death Eater, this one several inches taller and much heavier, bringing his cane up to poke the larger man in the chest.

"You were told," he said, jabbing with the cane. "We are not here to hurt people in such a manner. It is not necessary. These people know that the Dark Lord has sent us, and so they will do as they are told. Tempting though it may be to kill and torture, that is not part of our mission today. Do not disobey your orders again, lest you wish to be the subject of a little. . . experiment I have in mind."

The chastened Death Eater stood before his apparent leader, glaring his defiance. Then the shorter man's hand lashed out with lightning speed, the cane crashing into the side of the larger man's head. The Death Eater dropped bonelessly to the ground. Harry heard Ginny gasp. Automatically, his hand searched for hers, and he took some comfort from the feel of her. It lasted as long as it took him to focus on the fallen Death Eater. Part of him wanted to rejoice at the falling of an enemy, but another part of him rebelled, sickened by the viciousness and ruthlessness the shorter man had shown to someone who was theoretically his comrade. What chance did they have against an enemy that was capable of such things?

The Death Eater turned in a slow circle, the only thing moving now besides the robes of the Dementors as the wind blew gently through the streets. He raised his cane as he turned, pointing with the ornate silver handle as he looked around him.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said. "However, it serves to illustrate a point. We are not here to kill, not today. We knew that today would bring the Hogwarts pupils back to this town. We are only after one of them. We take him, we go, and no one need be hurt. It really is that simple, and you get to live. Under the circumstances, and I'm sure I don't need to explain to you exactly how much damage myself and my comrades could cause, I think we are being extremely reasonable."

"Who is it you want?" Harry heard. Looking around, he saw Madam Rosmerta standing in the doorway of the Three Broomsticks. He gaped at her, distantly feeling Ginny's hand tighten in his. His attention flicked from Rosmerta, who had started walking across the town square, to the Death Eater, who was standing almost expectantly, his hands on the head of his cane, the point planted firmly in the ground in front of him. Harry could tell that it would be the work of a second to raise the cane and strike Madam Rosmerta down, probably with even more viciousness than he had shown his comrade.

"You know who we want, Rosmerta," the Death Eater said, silkily. "No reason to risk the safety of your business for a child you barely know, yes?"

"You'll take the Potter boy, and leave the rest of us in peace?"

"For now, yes," the Death Eater replied, drawing out the final -s like the hiss of a snake.

"Very well," Rosmerta said quietly. "He's over there," she said, pointing away from the Three Broomsticks. "I saw him going toward Honeydukes."

The Death Eater's head almost turned, for a fraction of a second even was turning. But then his hands moved, and Rosmerta was borne to the ground with a sickening crack.

The hooded figure turned slowly, red blood glistening on the silver head of his cane.

"Let that be a warning to each and every one of you," he said, raising his cane to emphasise the point. "We do not talk, we do not prevaricate, we do not waste time. We will strike, and you will suffer. Unless. . ."

The Death Eater's voice trailed off, and his gaze settled on a group of students sitting near Harry and his friends.

"Unless you give me the Potter boy."

The Death Eater approached the group of students, and lashed out with his cane. There was a sharp cry, and Harry watched a third year boy fall to the ground, one arm limp at his side.

"It's not so much to ask, is it? One boy, for all of your lives? And that is what is at stake here, have no doubts."

He moved on a few steps, before spinning and driving his cane into the leg of a worker at the Post Office. The man yelled in pain, and crumpled gracelessly to the ground, clutching his knee.

"Come now, Potter, make yourself known. Show some of that famous Gryffindor bravery. Save all these people, and I promise you an honourable end."

The Death Eater raised his hand above his head, and let it drop. One by one, the Dementors began their slow advance, tightening the ring they had drawn around the innocent civilians. As the ring grew smaller, students, shopkeepers, and the other inhabitants of Hogsmeade clustered together, their fear growing by the second. Harry tried to ignore the echoes in his mind, the dreadful replay of his parents deaths, the feeling of despair as Hermione and Ginny lay seemingly dead before him, the sheer terror of confronting Voldemort once more, the silent corpse of Cedric Diggory bearing testimony to the evil he was facing now.

"Not death, though," the Death Eater said. "No, Lord Voldemort has great plans for you. And I promise you, they do not involve your death."

"Okay," Harry said, quietly. The word sounded like the slamming of lead doors in the silence of the terrified town.

"Harry, no!" Ginny whispered, pulling on Harry's wrist as he walked forward.

"I have to," he said quietly, half turning to shake off her grip.

"Ah, Mr Potter," the Death Eater said. Harry stood firm in front of the tall man. His eyes fixed on the snake's head that topped the man's cane.

"Hello, Mr Malfoy," Harry said loudly.

Harry's eyes flickered upward as he said the name, and he was rewarded with the Death Eater's own eyes widening behind the black hood.

"Well, well, well," the Death Eater said quietly. "You surprise me, Mr Potter. You have recognised me? Well, it pains me to do this, but you can't be allowed to give me away. So, stand still my boy, and this won't," he added, his eyes gleaming, "hurt a bit."

The Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, was already drawing his wand from within his cane. The black ash rod seemed to already be shining at its tip as whatever spell Lucius had in mind struggled to be cast.

Harry would never know what the spell was meant to be. With reflexes honed by years on the Quidditch pitch, and a decade or more of dodging Dudley, he dived forward, not thinking, just reacting. His shoulder hit Lucius hard in the midriff, sending the taller man staggering backwards, the black wand tumbling from his hand.

Harry jumped to his feet, his fingers closing around Lucius' wand as he rose. The older man clutched at his stomach, glaring fiercely down at him.

"Give me back my wand, boy," he spat. "Give me my wand, or I shall give the order, and everyone here will die. Do you understand me? They. . . will. . . die!"

"Expecto Patronum!" came a roar. Both Harry and Lucius Malfoy looked in the direction of the cry. A faint silver falcon hung briefly in the air, before diving down at a Dementor.

The thrall that had frozen the village was broken. One spell had been all that it had taken. One person defying the seemingly insurmountable odds. The silver falcon swooped again, and was joined by a kestrel and a buzzard. A silver menagerie began to emerge from the wands of the resisting wizards and witches. The adults of Hogsmeade were taking advantage of the surprise their resistance was creating, and were attacking the Dementors.

But the black-clad former Azkaban guards did not, it seemed, fall victim to surprise. Already Harry could feel the waves of terror growing stronger. He struggled to remain lucid as, one by one, the Dementors spread their wave of fear through the village. Behind him, someone was yelling.

"Everyone! Like we practised! Now!"

Ron, Harry thought. Putting himself in harm's way for my sake. Again.

Harry saw Lucius' head come around like a cracked whip. But Harry was already moving, diving sideways past a bulky Death Eater who momentarily served as a shield between Harry and Lucius.

"Get him!" Lucius yelled, waving his arm in Harry's direction. Harry weaved and dived through the crowd, which was slowly breaking up into small clusters of fighting. Ahead of him, he could see Seamus and Dean huddled behind a water trough, firing off spells at a pair of Death Eaters who were sheltering behind an advertising hoarding.

They weren't ready for resistance! Harry thought, desperately. All around him, the villagers, the students, and even now some of the Hogwarts teachers were fighting back.

"Expecto Patronum!" a voice roared to his right. Glancing to that side, he saw Neville standing tall with Daniella Spinnet at his side. Neville's stare was calm and calculating, scything from side to side across the battlefield. His Patronus gleamed brightly before him, a tall man with glasses and straw-like hair similar to Neville's. Without stopping, Harry knew that Neville was being protected by his father, and smiled tightly.

"Potter!"

Harry didn't look back. Instead, he broke for a clear patch of ground, ducking under the clumsy lunge of Crabbe, the Slytherin boy apparently having chosen his side in the conflict. Harry briefly wondered if Crabbe had even the faintest idea what was truly going on.

Ducking and diving through the crowd, Harry heard the meaty sound of two bodies colliding behind him. Rather than slowing to look back, he put on a last burst of acceleration, and broke through the crowd into the empty space beyond. Still running at full speed, he ran from Hogsmeade, hoping to lessen the severity of the fighting, maybe even draw the dark forces away from his friends, and the other innocents that had been put at risk because of him.

*

"Where the bloody hell's Harry going?" Fred roared over the chaos.

Gryffindors, Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws stood back to back, fighting to defend themselves and their friends in the face of the dark force's attack. Ron stood side to side with Blaise Zabini and Justin Finch-Fletchley, while the twins flanked Cho Chang. All around the battlefield the students were clustered in small groups, holding their own as the Dementors advanced inexorably. Fortunately or otherwise, the former Azkaban guards seemed to be discouraged from feeding on their foes, seeming instead to settle for spreading discord among the Hogsmeade defenders. Ron grimaced as a middle-aged warlock dropped his wand and tried to run, before being caught in the back by several vicious curses that left him writhing pitifully on the ground.

"He's trying to lead them away," Cho managed as she tried to Stupefy a Death Eater. "Idiot!"

*

"Harry's away," Hermione said, back to back with Ginny.

"Good," the red-haired girl replied, her wispy Patronus spraying once more from her wand. "Maybe he'll get away completely."

Neither girl said what they were really thinking. They needed to focus on the positive, or they were lost.

*

In so much as there were any positives to the battle, the presence of the Dementors seemed to be the biggest one. Voldemort had seemingly miscalculated by sending the Death Eaters back to Hogsmeade with the Dementors as reinforcements, for what Dementors want most is fear, and the associated venal emotions. The defenders of Hogsmeade certainly had fear to spare, fighting as they were for their homes, their lives, their children, but the Death Eaters had more to fear. The unexpected resistance they faced blew away any mental defences they may have had in place to protect them from the Dementors' effect. And what the Death Eaters feared was that most terrible of things: Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, resurgent, terrible and displeased with them if they failed in this mission.

As the battle wore on, both sides took casualties. The Dementors sowed terror and discord wherever they were, preparing a great banquet of terror on which they would gorge themselves given the chance. Concentration failed, terror took over, and ambushes were laid and fallen into.

The Death Eater's fought with viciousness, knowing they had made their Devil's pact, that their only hope lay in victory. They threw vile hexes and curses about them with reckless abandon, and among their number were those prepared to chance everything. Sporadically, unpredictably, lethally, Avada Kedavra was cast. Each time, a defender fell, never to rise again.

And yet the defenders fought with hope, the greatest foe of evil everywhere. Friendships were strengthened by the fire, and where one fell, another stepped readily forward to shoulder their burden. The deaths of some among their number only strengthened their resolve, and the adults of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts stepped forward without hesitation to guard the students and children. In this, the adults displayed the anger and protective instinct of a lioness shielding her cubs.

It was a very even battle.

*

Harry, standing by the cave where Sirius had hidden the previous year, could see the broad strokes, but not the details. He tried to search for a red-headed figure, but couldn't make out individuals. He stood as though frozen at the peak of the hill, until;

"Hello, Mr Malfoy."

"You want to beg for mercy without anyone watching, Potter? Even as I say it, it seems unlikely. Not at all the style of a true Gryffindor. . ."

"What do you know about Gryffindor, Mr Malfoy? Your family has always been in Slytherin. One of the first things your son ever told me, that."

"Draco is properly proud of our position in the pantheon of wizarding families. Great things are expected of him."

"Not on the Quidditch pitch, of course," Harry goaded.

"I will say now, Potter, that you shan't press me into making a mistake. My son is immaterial to this little meeting. I am sure he has done the sensible thing, and found a safe spot to watch the extinguishing of your classmates and the other rabble that infests Hogsmeade."

"You won't make me mess up either, Mr Malfoy," Harry said, turning at last. He looked Malfoy squarely in the eye. "Besides, I still have your wand. What can you do to me without it?"

"Never trust a Malfoy, my boy," Lucius said, pointing his headless cane away from his body. As Harry watched, the black wood began to smoulder, and then suddenly burst into flame, burning rapidly down to reveal a slim yellow wand that Malfoy levelled at him. "We always bring a wand to a fistfight."

With difficulty, Harry swallowed.

*

"Dean! Seamus! Those two there!"

Ron was standing tall in the midst of the battle. While the adult witches and wizards sought to contain the worst of the dark force's attacks, the students were trying to knock holes in the defences of Voldemort's army. Many of the students looked to Ron for advice, for they knew that Ron had been in some tight situations before. Ron hadn't even thought before beginning to issue orders.

Tears streamed silently down Hermione's face as she looked out over the battlefield. She had fled, with Ginny, to the Three Broomsticks when the battle had begun to rage fiercely near them. Now the two girls looked at the fight going on before them, and tried to regain their breath.

"We're going to get through this, Hermione," Ginny said.

"Of course we are," Hermione said. "It's just that it's so horrible. . ."

"We need to go back out," Ginny said, quietly, determinedly.

"I know. We have to fight. But I'm scared."

"So am I. So's Ron, so's Harry, so's everyone. There's no shame in being afraid."

"What if I have to fight a Dementor?" Hermione asked, trembling at the thought.

"You'll be fine," Ginny said, uncertainly. A loud crash shook the girls, and they looked at one another, their resolve strengthening.

"Let's go then," Hermione said, her steps shaky and uneven as she made for the battle once more.

*

"So?" Harry managed. "You have a wand, I have two wands, so what?"

"A fully grown wizard against a child, Mr Potter?" Lucius said, his customary sneer settling on his features. "Come now. Surely you don't think yourself capable of defeating me?"

"Why not?" Harry said, grasping at straws. "I beat Voldemort when I was a baby. Why would you be a challenge?"

"Oh, yes, the famed defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Lucius said, smiling indulgently. "Perhaps if you had any clue how you survived, or if the Dark Lord hadn't spent the last year educating myself and my brethren, well, perhaps I might then be concerned. As it is, Mr Potter, I think it is high time that we put an end to these tiresome shenanigans, don't you?"

"Your move, then," Harry said. The two stood facing one another, each awaiting the other's first move.

Then Lucius raised his wand. "Relashio!"

*

Ron ducked under a rogue hex, and tried desperately to think of any jinx that could break through the blocks and wards the Death Eaters were now using.

He looked around, catching sight of Draco Malfoy sitting coolly inside a top floor window of the Three Broomsticks. Ron scowled. Draco seemingly didn't want to choose his side just-

"Whaugh!" he grunted, as he was tackled from behind. He rolled over to see Ernie McMillan atop him.

"Sorry, Ron" Ernie said. "But you were about to be hexed."

Ron nodded his thanks, and the two fifth years rose up and took the fight to the enemy once more.

*

Harry dived out of the way, but the flames spraying from Lucius' wand caught the hem of his robes. He batted at the fire frantically, watching from the corner of his eye as Lucius stalked him. Eventually, he was able to put out the blaze, and rose to his feet as Lucius stopped in front of him.

"I could have killed you, of course," Lucius said. "But I don't want to do that. No, I shall present you to my master, beaten and broken. Imperio!"

But Harry had been ready for this. He raised Lucius' wand and cried "Expelliarmus!"

The spells hit in mid air, and ricocheted away from one another. Lucius frowned.

"My new wand is not related to my old school wand in any way, Potter," he said, brandishing the slim yellow wand menacingly. "That trick won't save you this time.

"Imagine, if you will, when I visited Ollivander's that first time. This wand, I was told, would be good for Transfiguration. Let us see, shall we?"

Harry was caught by surprise. Before he could move, Lucius hissed "Expelliarmus!" and the black wand flew from Harry's hand. Lucius reached out and caught it easily, sneering at Harry as he brought both wands around to point at him.

"Oh yes," Lucius smirked. "I changed my wand from being in your hand, to being in mine. Ollivander was right, all those years ago. . ."

*

Ron, Hermione and Ginny had regrouped, and were tucked away in an alleyway behind Zonko's. Ron was cradling one arm protectively, having been caught a glancing blow by a Death Eater's Cruciatus curse. Ginny was gasping for breath, while Hermione tried to watch both ends of the alleyway at once. They could hear the sounds of battle, the sizzling spells, the cries as people were hit, and the dull impact of bodies dropping to the ground. No-one wanted to speculate whether the bodies were dead or just stunned.

"We need to get back out there," Ron said. "The Death Eaters will win this if we're not careful."

"They're killing people," Hermione said, her voice distant. "We can't stop them, not just us."

"But it's not just us, is it?" Ron said. "Harry's fighting the leader, Fred, and George and the others are out there. . ."

"I'm scared, Ron," Hermione said, simply. "I can't fight properly, not with the Dementors out there, I just can't."

"Hermione, you can," Ron said, reaching out to her with his good hand. "You're the smartest person I know. If you can't do something, then it can't be done. You're smart, and you're brave, and you're beautiful, and I love you."

A hush fell over the scene. Even the noise of the battle seemed to come from far off.

"You. . . you do?" Hermione said, uncertainly. Ron pulled her close to him, his good arm holding her in a tight embrace.

"I do," he said, simply.

"I. . . I do too," Hermione stammered. "Love you, I mean."

Ron grinned. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Think you can fight now?"

"I think so," Hermione said, an impish grin on her lips.

Just then, a Dementor floated into the alleyway, drawn by the sudden surge in positive emotions.

"E-" Ginny managed

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!!!"

A silvery knight, huge and imposing on its gleaming horse, charged down the Dementor. The tip of the knight's lance slammed into the Dementor's chest, sending the black garbed creature backwards into the alley wall. The Dementor's impact was a meaty crunch, and the fiend slid slowly, bonelessly to the ground.

"Now that was impressive," Ron said, grinning proudly at Hermione, whose wand was still outstretched, her face drawn in a tight frown of concentration.

*

"Ollivander was right, all those years ago. . ."

The words echoed in his head. Lcuius Malfoy had said them seconds before, but months before that it had been Professor Dumbledore telling Harry that. Harry grinned.

"Fine," he said. "Kill me."

He looked calmly at Lucius, the challenge hanging between the enemies like a Snitch between two Seekers.

"You can't, can you?" Harry said. "The worst you can do is stun me, maybe rough me up a little, but you can't kill me. Your master won't allow you to."

"Perhaps not, but believe me, boy," Lucius said, "when the Dark Lord is done with you, you shall most certainly wish I had killed you. Not just because of the myriad tortures that will be inflicted on you, but because you shall see what the loss of the great and wonderful Harry Potter does to the morale of those who oppose us."

"You don't have a clue, Mr Malfoy," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "What happens to me can not, will not affect what happens to you and your leader. Whether I'm dead or alive, you will be hunted down and put away. And then," Harry added, inspiration striking, "maybe we'll make a story of you. Everyone knows my story, Mr Malfoy. How I defeated Voldemort, how I became the youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in a hundred years, how I defeated Voldemort twice more. . . Now everyone can know the story of Lucius Malfoy: Liar, traitor and loser. Little children can learn of the fate that awaits anyone stupid enough to challenge people like Albus Dumbledore."

Malfoy stood impassive.

"Really, Potter, I thought you would be more of a challenge than this. Are you trying to bore me into submission?" He raised his wand. "And now... St-"

"Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"

The wands flew from Lucius Malfoy's hands, and he dropped like a stone to the ground. Harry approached the fallen Death Eater carefully, kicking the wands away. He looked up at Professor McGonagall as the teacher stared furiously down at Malfoy. Her breath was coming in short gasps as she tried to regain her composure following her dash up the hill. After a short time, she looked up at Harry, her expression a mixture of concern and ferocity. Harry thought briefly of a unicorn Hagrid had shown their Care of Magical Creatures class. A new mother, the unicorn had reared up fiercely at the incautious approach of a centaur. The unicorn foal had been oblivious to its mothers fury, but Harry was left with a deep impression of the mothers love. McGonagall was radiating much the same air of concern for her charge.

"Professor," Harry said. "The others. . ."

"Are being assisted in their battle my many of my fellow staff members, Mr Potter," McGonagall replied. "I doubt that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had prepared his forces for such resistance, nor," she allowed herself a small smile. "Nor with the fleet-footedness of Colin Creevey. The instant that the battle began, he ran for help. A most intelligent young man."

"Is anyone hurt?" Harry asked, dreading the answer. McGonagall looked sombre.

"Yes," she said quietly "I don't know the full scale of our suffering, but I saw many fallen as I passed. If only Apparating didn't take it out of me so. . ." McGonagall's voice trailed off, and Harry found himself further in awe of his head of house.

"We all have our strengths and weaknesses, Professor," he said, cautiously. "I mean, there's only one Dumbledore. The rest of us just have to do what we can."

McGonagall looked up at Harry in surprise. "Harry. . ." she began. "Your parents, they would be very proud of you."

*

An emotional reunion behind them, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron listened to Dumbledore, McGonagall and Professor Flitwick discussing the departure of the Death Eaters and the Dementors.

"Portkeys," Flitwick said. "Simple, but effective."

"We got one, at least," McGonagall said. She threw a disdainful look towards Lucius Malfoy, who sat sullenly outside the Three Broomsticks. Furious Ministry wizards surrounded him, their ire raised by missing out on more prisoners.

"The simple plans are often the ones that work the best," Dumbledore commented. "And so it seems we have something of a pyrrhic victory. What was the final list of casualties?"

"Six deaths, three of them Aurors placed here by Arthur Weasley, three residents of the town, all of whom took our advice and practised their Defence Against the Dark Arts in case there was another attack," McGonagall said, heavily. "Many more were injured, Rosmerta most seriously. The children are on their way back to school now."

"And yet some remain," Dumbledore said, his shrewd gaze turning on the four friends. "More adventures, Harry?" he asked, forcing a little warmth into his voice.

"What'll happen to Malfoy?" Ron asked, abruptly.

"Ah... Do you refer to Lucius Malfoy, or his son, Mr Weasley?"

"Either. Both. Draco just sat and watched. He watched the whole thing, Professor."

Dumbledore paused for a few seconds before answering.

"There are those that would say he took the sensible option, Mr Weasley. No one would expect an under age wizard to draw arms in a battle such as this. That so many of you did, and yet survived, is nothing short of miraculous."

"And Mr Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

"It would seem he is bound for Azkaban," Professor Flitwick replied. Ron snorted.

"I bet my dad will be ready to help make sure that happens."

"We all do what we can, Mr Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. "A point worth remembering," she added, as Harry flushed red.