Death Before Dishonor

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR

Chapter Twenty-Four: Siege

Dementors were prowling outside the walls of the castle constantly, hundreds of them casting their dark shadows over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Already, several students had taken sick, either fainting or simply becoming so dizzy that they were unable to function, and Madam Pomfrey was working madly to counter their effects. Chocolate, of course, helped some, but with so many Dementors so close by, it was hard to even think about fighting them all. And their presence made any thoughts of escape grow cold. Every secret passage had been sealed from the inside, now, and the one leading to the Honeydukes cellar that Wormtail had used to lead the Dementors out of the castle, had been re-warded as well. There was no way out--but more importantly, there was no way in.

There seemed nothing to do but wait. Wait, and hope, as a wise man once said; the Death Eaters, led by Voldemort, tested the wards constantly, and there were always at least a dozen Dark Wizards prowling around the grounds. Those wards had been the first to go, of course; within the first twenty-four hours, every magical barrier that extended from outside the walls had been torn down like paper. Voldemort's power was indeed growing. To many, he seemed unstoppable, which was why Malfoy and his friends gloated, even though there was no one to hear them, locked as they were down in the more comfortable dungeons. Snape had seen to that.

Dumbledore really should have been meeting with the staff to discuss these issues, but instead he was with Sirius Black, who was pacing the headmaster's office like a caged animal.

"I don't like it," the younger man snapped.

"Nor do I," Dumbledore admitted.

"Then why the hell do you propose to do this?" Sirius thundered.

The headmaster took a deep breath. His plan was harder for him than Sirius knew...but maybe that was doing the other man an injustice. Sirius knew that Dumbledore cared for Harry. Intellectually, he understood that. It was just that Sirius had to put Harry first...whereas Dumbledore had too many responsibilities to fulfill them all. And he is right, the old wizard told himself sadly. If this does fail, Harry will most likely die. "Because it will work."

"You don't sound too certain of that."

"I'm not," Dumbledore admitted, looking Sirius in the eye, which, even for him, was hard. "But I do know Voldemort...or at least I did, once. I hope that means I can predict him. He won't kill Harry, not yet..."

"And when he gets sick of playing games?" Harry's godfather demanded. "You and I both know that he will. He's not going to dance to your tune forever, you know."

He isn't, Albus thought to himself. Because I never meant for him to get Harry. The rest of this I expected, but Harry... God, let me be right about this. Sirius' expression was still furious, but also was very pained, which made Dumbledore hate what he had to say. "Harry's strong, Sirius," he said quietly. "You know that. He'll hold on."

"He shouldn't have to." The former Auror's eyes softened, and it occurred to Dumbledore that he'd never thought to argue his own role in this affair. Brave man. Harry needs him.

And I'm not going to let either one of them die. "I know," Albus replied heavily. "I know."

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He was beginning to understand how Sirius must have felt in Azkaban. After Voldemort's initial torture session, the Dark Lord had seemed to get sick of gloating, and Harry had been moved into Honeydukes' cellar, where he was out of the way but still, "awaiting the Lord's pleasure", as Lucius Malfoy had put it. Random Death Eaters, however, came down at odd intervals, seemingly given permission to prove to themselves that Harry Potter was only human, so he'd had very little time to himself. To the best of his knowledge, an entire day had passed, and there had been no sign of anything from Hogwarts. Voldemort had only come down once in that time; apparently, he had bigger fish to fry. When he'd visited, however, the Dark Lord had taken great pleasure in telling Harry that everything was going exactly as he had planned.

That meant that Harry was on his own.

And at the moment, he was alone, so he decided to make the best use of his time once he awoke from another pain-induced bout of blackness. He glanced around the cellar again, just to make sure, but there was no one down there. Harry wasn't sure what he could do without a wand (last he'd seen, Voldemort had his, which infuriated him), but he had to try. He couldn't just sit there and be bait for Sirius or Dumbledore, and do nothing while his friends were in danger. He had to do something.

Shifting slightly, Harry tested the magical chains that bound him, and almost yelped out loud. They burned! Grimacing, he tried to move even less, just to see if they had any give at all, but there was nothing. Unfortunately, the chains seemed kind of intelligent (which, given that they were magical, probably wasn't a surprise), and they didn't stop burning, even if he moved very little. Harry scowled, and then gave a mental shrug. Well, if that's the case... He hesitated. If he was wrong, he was going to end up in a world of trouble. Think realistically, Harry. You're already in a world of trouble! It can't get much worse! Suddenly, he grinned, even though he felt a bit mad doing it. What do I have to lose?

Bracing himself, Harry yanked his right arm upwards. He had to bit back a yowl of pain, and his vision went all sorts of watery, but the chains gave. After giving himself a moment to recover, he stared at them. The magical chains holding his right arm to the chair hadn't come off...but they were definitely looser. Maybe this will work, after all, he thought with amazement. I wonder if Voldemort realizes that these stupid things aren't infallible. He snorted. Then again, I don't think anyone else has ever been stupid enough to try that. Harry screwed up his face and jerked his arm up again. When the pain faded, and his vision cleared, he chanced a glance at his arm. It was almost loose.

Harry took a deep breath and tasted blood. He must have bitten his tongue that last time as he struggled to keep quiet (it just wouldn't do to have them hear him and ruin everything, after all), but in the grand scheme of things, that hardly mattered. It was working!

Another yank and it was done; his right arm was free. Harry could have sang in triumph, but he had no desire to be found out. Quickly, he went to work on his left arm, trying to ignore the pain. He had to hurry. He didn't know how long they'd leave him alone. If he could just get free and slip into the passageway...he knew it would be blocked from the Hogwarts end, but the closer he was to the school, the safer he would be...if only he could get there. Harry doubled his efforts.

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In the middle of the Great Hall, Snape suddenly went down with a cry. While Ron hated the Potions master with a passion, he knew they were all on the same side, so he headed in that direction, unlike many of his classmates, who simply stood and stared. He didn't have time to examine the irony of the sitiuation when he was the first to reach Snape's side. "Professor?"

Snape was on his knees, pale, shaking, and clutching his left forearm. "Bastard..." he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Professor?" Ron wasn't quiet sure what was happening, but he was positive it had something to do with Snape's Dark Mark.

The ex-Death Eater shook his head to clear it, although his face was still tight and pained. "Weasley..." he snarled. "I'm fine."

Scowling, Snape levered himself to his feet, only to sway and collapse once more. Ron caught him. "Somehow, Professor, I don't think that's the truth."

"Shut up." But the usual venom was absent from Snape's strained voice, and Ron almost laughed. Somehow, I don't think you'll be giving me detention right now. Snape was definitely shaking.

"What is it, sir?"

Surprisingly, the Potions master opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a sharp peal in the air. Then Professor McGonagall's voice split the air.

"ATTENTION ALL. THE COURTYARD HAS BEEN BREACHED. ALL STUDENTS ARE TO REPORT TO THE GREAT HALL IMMEIDATELY. ALL TEACHERS ARE NEEDED AT THE FRONT ENTRANCE."

Snape let loose a string of curses that even Ron didn't know. He didn't even think half of them were in English--but then the Potions master was gone, sprinting out the doors to the Great Hall and towards the attack.

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It was chaos outside. Hermione had been caught in the courtyard when the attack had come, and had immediately run for the closest professor, which had turned out to be her own head of house, Professor McGonagall. The deputy headmistress had swung immediately into action, and after the announcement, Hermione had rushed to the Great Hall, only to find the doors locked and warded so well that she would never make it through. Nervously, she glanced around, unsure of what to do, but knowing she couldn't stay there. Finally, she spotted Professor Snape's back as the Potions master sprinted away from the hall, going towards the school's front doors. Hermione ran to catch up.

"Professor!"

He skidded to a stop. "What are you doing here, Granger?"

"I couldn't get into the Great Hall," she answered hurriedly. "The wards--"

Snape cursed under his breath. "Well, I can't take the wards down now." He cursed again. "Come with me."

"What--?"

"Just come!" He grabbed her arm, dragging her forward, and suddenly they were in the front entranceway to the castle. The doors were open, and Hermione could see outside, where the sky was dark gray and moving figures dotted the lawn. Oh, my God... are those...?

"What is she doing here, Severus?" McGonagall demanded, turning in their direction.

"I set the wards as I left the hall," Snape explained. "She was too late."

"Oh, dear--are there any others who are outside the Great Hall?" the deputy headmistress asked worriedly. Snape looked at Hermione.

"I don't think so, Professor," she replied. "I think I was the only one who wasn't there already. I was coming back from Hagrid's house; he and I were working on--"

"Very well," McGonagall cut her off with a stern frown. "I suppose it cannot be helped. It's a good thing you're one of the best in your class... Stay here, Hermione. Defend yourself if you must, but stay inside the castle. If we succeed, they will never make it this far."

Hermione didn't want to think about what would happen if they didn't succeed, so she only nodded. "I understand."

Movement suddenly caught her eye, and she noticed two new figures rushing across the courtyard, side by side. They came from a different direction than the front doors, from the right side of the castle, and both were moving with wands raised, straight towards the middle of the fray. Between the attackers and the doors, Hermione could see one teacher go down--she thought it was Flitwick, judging from size, and saw another bending down by his side. That looked like Professor Vector, and as red light flashed in the sky, she recognized the running pair as Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Snape cursed.

"They're leading with Dementors," he breathed as new forms suddenly swept into view with inhuman speed. "Fool! Dark wizards he can deal with, but Dementors will be the death of him!" And then McGonagall and Snape were gone, rushing through the doors with their wands out.

There were hundreds and hundreds of Dementors; even from so far away, Hermione felt cold inside. To the far side, though, Sirius and Lupin were the closest--and suddenly, she saw Sirius falter. He stumbled, but she saw Remus grab his arm as the Dementors came nearer. Silver shot away from the pair, and Hermione squinted, trying to identify Professor Lupin's Patronus, but could not. It seemed to have eight legs and two heads...but then she realized it was not just one Patronus, but two: a wolf and a dog. Then two more silvery forms appeared directly between the doors and the Dementors: McGonagall's eagle and Snape's raven.

Voldemort's inhuman creatures fled under the quadruple onslaught, but Hermione did not even have time to breath a sigh of relief. There was still a battle raging in the courtyard.

Briefly, she wondered if she should close the doors, but before she could even figure out how, it occurred to her that if Professor McGonagall had wanted the doors shut, she would have told her to do so. Hermione frowned. Wouldn't it be better to close the doors? Wouldn't that just give them an extra layer of defenses? Coldness swept through her again, and she thought she understood. If Voldemort made it that far, no doors were going to stand in his way. If her teachers failed, closing the doors would only become an exercise in futility.

Bright lights were flashing in the courtyard, and she could see battle lines forming. Enemies were still approaching from the gates, one at a time, and at a very slow rate. The line of Death Eaters was larger than the professors' but not by much, not nearly as much as it should have been. Is this just a test, or are some elsewhere? she wondered. Hermione shuddered. If the Death Eaters hit in two places and the professors were only defending one... But there was no time to think of that. She felt so helpless, though, sitting there and watching. There was nothing she could do--Hermione would not dream of ignoring Professor McGonagall's commands--and she hated it. All she could do was watch.

A wall of fire suddenly burst into the center of the Death Eater ranks, and she heard people screaming. The Dark wizards scattered, trying to escape the inferno. A streak of green power suddenly aimed at McGonagall as she cast spells by Snape's side, but the Potions master tackled her and dragged her to the ground as the killing curse flashed over their heads. Hermione gasped, but both were up in a moment, and fighting once more. Sirius and Remus had circled around next to them, and she could see communication passing along the line of professors. White light flashed, then, and she saw the Death Eater spells begin bouncing off an invisible barrier between the professors and the enemy.

A thunderclap split the air, and she heard screams. The courtyard gates suddenly seemed to glow momentarily, and she saw the two Death Eaters in their immediate vicinity go down, unmoving. Only then did she hear the footsteps rushing up behind her. Hermione spun, wand in hand--and came face to face with the headmaster. Why isn't he with the others?

"Professor Dumbledore!"

But the ancient wizard ignored her as his long strides carried him outside. Turning back to the battle once more, Hermione saw that the professor's invisible wall seemed to be cracking--until Dumbledore raised his wand, still running, and said a word of power.

Thunder rumbled again, and the invisible wall held. Dumbledore joined the line, which began moving irrevocably forward, pushing the Death Eaters back. Soon, the Death Eaters had neared the gates, but they were sealed. Hermione watched one of the Dark wizards turn and attempt to open them, only to fall either unconscious or dead. The Death Eaters' formation contracted upon itself as they moved closer together for protection, but Hermione saw both Sirius and Snape break free of the professors' line, and each head towards the Death Eater flanks. The number of Death Eaters now equaled the number of teachers, if one did not count the unmoving ones scattered across the lawn.

And if you ignored Flitwick's motionless body lying not far from the castle doors. Hermione tried not to think of that. She hoped he wasn't dead. He had always been one of the nicest of the professors.

Suddenly, one of the Death Eaters dove for the gates, clearly hoping to somehow break past the enchantments binding them. He, too, went down, and Hermione watched the other Death Eaters move still closer. That, however, was when Snape and Sirius went to work, and the enemy line faltered once more. They can't get out, Hermione realized. They're cornered. From the look of them, the Death Eaters knew it, too; they were fighting defensively, now, and Dark magic simply wasn't tailor-made for self-defense. But why were there so few Death Eaters? And where was Voldemort? That, of course, opened up a whole new line of questioning, like how they managed to get into the courtyard in the first place.

As Hermione watched Snape dive out of a curse's path, she realized that neither he nor Sirius was protected by the shield the other professors had erected. Both wizards, however, kept firing spells at the gathered Death Eaters, and she saw enemy after enemy go down--until Snape suddenly staggered (even though she was sure nothing had hit him) and started to go down. Lupin, however, darted out of the professors' line and grabbed the ex-Death Eater's arm, half-dragging, half-leading him behind the others. The Potions master, she noticed, was holding his left forearm--and Sirius was alone on the right flank, without anyone opposite him to gather the Death Eater's attention on the other side. But the ex-Auror did not flinch, and she watched him continue calmly as Lupin left Snape's side and took up position on the left flank.

Magic crossed in the sky too quickly for Hermione to follow, but inexplicably, Sirius and Remus stepped back into the line after only another minute or so. Then, however, everything stopped, and there was stillness. She heard Dumbledore speaking to the few remaining Death Eaters (who were now greatly outnumbered by the professors), and slowly, she saw them lower their wands. They were surrendering.

The first battle of Hogwarts had been won.

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Harry worked furiously to free his left leg--he heard angry voices upstairs, and heard screaming, which meant that some Death Eater had displeased Voldemort immensely, and it meant he might have a little time...but he had no idea how much. All he knew was that he had to act quickly. He was weak and lightheaded from the burning pain due to this last manacle, but he couldn't quit now. He was so close... Got it!

Kicking his leg free of the chains, Harry bolted out of the chair. He was free! Quickly, he glanced around the cellar, but he was still alone, and the screams were continuing upstairs. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he searched, he saw nothing that might have been useful. No weapons. No wands. Nothing but himself. Oh, well, he thought. I've been worse off, before. Harry sucked in a deep breath, trying to still his spinning head. He was still sick with pain; he had lost count of how many Death Eaters had put him under the Cruciatus curse, but he knew that his strength was fading fast. Breaking loose of his chains had proven harder than he had initially realized...

With a start, Harry realized that he'd almost collapsed. Get a grip, Harry! he scolded himself. You'd look really dumb if you break yourself loose only to collapse on the floor and wait for them to recapture you. Gritting his teeth, he headed for the trapdoor. He could only hope that when he reached the other end, one of his professors could find him before Voldemort realized he was gone. Very carefully, he hauled the trapdoor upwards. Geez...I don't remember it being this heavy, he thought dizzily. Finally, though, Harry forced the trapdoor open and staggered down the stairs. It was getting hard to see straight, but he managed to close the trapdoor above himself, even though it landed with a little bit harder thud than he intended it to. Breathing hard, Harry stopped to listen but heard nothing new. The screams continued.

And Harry headed down the passageway.

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"What's the final report?"

"We have nine alive, three of which are unconscious. All are secure in the dungeons," Snape replied. Then he frowned reprovingly. "One of the ones you hit lived."

"Macnair?" Snape nodded, and Sirius shrugged. "I wasn't aiming to kill that time."

"Why ever not?"

"I have a feeling that he knows plenty of things that we would like to find out," Sirius replied. He felt calmer now. It was a sad and sorry fact, really, that killing Death Eaters had gotten some of the fury out of his system, but it had.

The Potions master studied him for a moment. "You surprise me sometimes, Black."

"Why's that?"

"Twenty years ago, I wouldn't have thought you capable of such foresight."

Sirius grinned. "Twenty years ago, I would never have imagined speaking civilly to you."

"True." Snape shrugged. "How is Ravenclaw taking Flitwick's death?"

"As well as can be expected," Sirius replied quietly. He could only imagine how the loss of their Head of House brought the war home to the Ravenclaw students...they had faced their first loss. How many more would come before the end? With an effort, he pried his mind away from such morbid thoughts. There would be plenty of time for that later. He smiled slightly. "However, we Gryffindors find ourselves in an interesting position after your saving Minerva's life. It seems some of that Gryffindor-Slytherin hatred may have been placed on the back burner, eh, Severus?"

"Don't count on it," the other snorted, and Sirius chuckled. "Did you talk to Albus about what created the opening in the wards?"

The ex-Auror nodded. "Apparently, it's a very old and very Dark spell that more or less transforms an individual into a ward-breaker. As long as that person stands in the opening, others can get through."

"Slowly, it would seem," Snape commented.

"Quite. Regardless, once Albus eliminated the ward-breaker, the spell collapsed, and so did the opening. While you and Remus were securing the prisoners, the headmaster and I integrated defenses against that type of magic into the wards. It won't work again."

"Good." Snape scowled, running a hand through his greasy hair. "I wonder what unwilling sod Voldemort forced into becoming the ward-breaker."

"I don't think I want to know." It went without saying that the person in question was dead. Dumbledore hadn't had a choice.

"Me neither." The two men stood in silence for a moment, each thinking their own thoughts about what was to come. The professors might have beaten back the initial attack, but that only restored the status quo. Hogwarts was still under siege, and the next battle would not go so easily, whenever it came. Finally, Snape continued, "You realize, Sirius, that we can't hold these Death Eaters forever."

"I know." The only fool proof way to confine wizards ever found was through the use of Dementors, and Sirius didn't even want to think about that. Seeing them earlier had been bad enough--if Remus hadn't snapped him out of it, he did not know what might have happened.

"Voldemort is patient enough to wait us out," the Potions master persisted. "And unless Dumbledore's got a plan, it won't take long before defending this school becomes impossible."

Sirius scowled and felt the familiar pang. "Oh, he's got a plan."

"Care to enlighten me?" Snape's eyebrows shot up.

"Ask him," he growled, and the other wizard looked at him perceptively.

"You don't like it," he commented.

"No," Sirius said shortly. "I don't."

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Harry stumbled down the stone stairs, struggling to see in the darkness. Without his wand, he had no way to create a light, which made his life difficult in more ways than one. First, he had no way of avoiding running into walls or falling down the stairs; second, the darkness made him sleepy. Even though Harry knew that he couldn't afford to sleep, it was hard to resist the urge to lie down and rest--just for a little while. He was so tired... The after effects of Voldemort's torture were starting to become worse. If there had been light, he'd have doubted that he could see straight, but at least the darkness saved him from that. He certainly felt dizzy, though.

A sudden noise made him jump. Footsteps. Someone was coming.

Harry quickened his pace, flying down the stairs. The sound was coming from behind him, which meant it came from the direction of Honeydukes--and Voldemort. While he didn't think that the Dark Lord would chase Harry down himself, Harry knew that any Death Eater would be bad. If he had a wand, Harry would have been fairly confident in his abilities, but alone, weak, and unarmed, he didn't stand much of a chance. Of course, that didn't mean that he wouldn't try.

Trying to force his muddled mind to come up with a plan, though, was hard. A few completely ludicrous possibilities came up, but he discarded them quickly. Doing something stupid was almost as bad as doing nothing at all--both would only get him caught. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of hiding, but that went out the window, too. Whoever was chasing him had magic. He did not. Hence, a three year old could have figured out what the consequences of hiding would be. Even Dudley would understand them, and that's saying something. What could he do? Reaching the bottom of the steps, Harry began to run, knowing that he could at least put distance between himself and his purser until he figured out what to do. But the pounding footsteps only got louder.

Desperately, Harry plunged around a bend, wishing he could estimate how far it was to Hogwarts. If only he knew how much further he had to go...but there was no use wishing. He knew he wouldn't make it--and in his despair, an idea struck Harry. It was stupid, and the odds of it working were probably less than zero, but at least it was something, and doing anything was preferable to surrendering quietly like a baby. Anything was better than just giving in.

Harry skidded to a stop and started feeling at the tunnel's stone walls, searching for an alcove of any sort. Finally, he found a one; it was very small, but just large enough for him to squeeze his shoulders into. He hoped that his purser was in too much of a hurry to notice him right away in the shadows. Perhaps they'd not notice him at all... Harry held his breath, listening. The footsteps echoed in the tunnel making it hard to judge distance, but they were coming closer, and closer. It was almost time. That thought made his heart pound in his ears, but Harry found a strange calm settling in. He felt better now; it was nice to not feel like a victim or like Voldemort's discarded toy. It was good to be in control of his own destiny. The footsteps grew louder. Closer. Almost time.

A faint glow filled the tunnel, and he knew his opponent was using magic for a light. Harry could not tell who it was without exposing himself, but he knew from the pace with which the other moved that it was not Voldemort. Harry didn't think Voldemort had run anywhere in years. His ego would never support the effort--Concentrate, Harry! The other was a few steps away. Suddenly, he was in front of Harry, unaware and unsuspecting--

Harry launched himself out of alcove and at the other wizard, colliding hard and brining them both to the ground. There was a mad scramble, and the light went out--He dropped his wand! With desperate strength, Harry smashed an elbow into the other, aiming for his face but ending up hitting him in the stomach, judging from the muffled gasp. His fingers scrambled over the dirt floor, searching for the dropped wand. If I can get the wand, I actually have a chance! Harry's fingertips touched wood, then a hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked, pulling him away. Blindly, he swung and missed, but could tell from the hand on his shoulder where his opponent was, and Harry struck more carefully that time, contacting with flesh. The other yowled, and his grip loosened.

One leap across the floor, and his fingers met wood. Twisting, Harry brought the wand up. "Stupefy!"

There was a red flash, and in its light, Harry saw the other wizard go down. The thud when his opponent hit the floor confirmed it, and he struggled to his feet, suddenly realizing that he was shaking. I did it, Harry told himself. And now I have a wand. A grin split his face, and he started to turn away until he heard a very Hermione-like voice in his head. Really, Harry, now that you have a wand, you might as well use it for something. But his grin only widened. "Lumos."

A ray of light jetted from the wand, and Harry Potter looked at the figure lying unconscious on the floor before him. It was Peter Pettigrew.

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Author's Note: Before I go, I'll answer a question that a few of you have asked--Harry is not just bait for Voldemort. However, Voldemort tells him this for two reasons: 1. He knows that his plan is likely to work and 2. Voldemort's ego is too big to admit that Harry is a threat to him. Think about the books; he keeps telling Harry that there is "nothing special" about him. Sure, he needs to kill Harry, but he's not going to say that to his face. That being said, thanks again for reading, and please review!