Inner Demons

Inner Demons

***Chapter One***

"Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric moved:
To rear me was the task of power divine,
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I shall endure.
All hope abandon, ye who enter here."

Dante Alighieri

1998

Ten years ago, a battle had been fought that stayed in the minds of many. On the steps of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry two hundred Aurors, the members of the Order of the Phoenix, staff, allies and students alike, led by their hero Harry Potter, met Voldemort's army of three hundred Death Eaters and Dementors. Of their number, the most terrifying of all, was the Dark Lord himself who's red eyes gleamed like hot coals in the waning light. The battle had been long and hard, lasting four days and four nights. The forces of Dark bent on capturing the school, which had for almost a millennia been a symbol of Wizarding power, while their opponents battled heart and soul to defend it.

The staff of Hogwarts were the first to defend the castle. Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard of the age, fought as a man a century younger. With a staff in one hand and the Sword of Gryffindor in the other, he felled Death Eaters left and right until they parted before him in fear, and it was as though he were surrounded by a halo of magical power. Severus Snape, having shown his true allegiance at last fought beside his former foes Remus Lupin and Sirius Black - put aside the differences, forged in the tempest of youth, for a far graver cause. With curses and spells, some Dark and some Light, Snape killed men whom he had once stood beside to serve the Dark Lord.

Remus, with a potion that Snape had developed to trigger his lycanthropy without the influence of the moon, fought in wolf form. With the advantage of greater speed, reflexes and senses he was far more deadly and became unrecognisable as the gentle, soft-spoken man as he dispatched of Death Eaters with animal savagery. It was he who tracked down Peter Pettigrew and wrestled the traitor to the ground. Burned by the silver hand, curse to all werewolves, he snarled with a rage that surpassed his pain and ripped out the throat of the man that he had once called friend and would have died for. Again and again he attacked, exacting his revenge until what was left of Pettigrew was unrecognisable. Only then, with blood and gore dripping from his snout did he stop to howl as if calling to two friends, beyond the grave, that they had been avenged.

Some staff members were also the first to fall. Professor Vector, the quiet Arithmancy teacher, was caught in the cross fire between a band of Death Eaters who were pinning a group of Aurors by the castle wall and gave the Aurors the precious seconds they needed to repel their enemies. Professor Filius Flitwick, casting charms and curses was caught off guard and struck down from behind by the Cruciatus curse until his mind and body could no longer bear the agony. Professor McGonagall, strict but kind, had been struck with the visceras incendius curse, cruellest of the Dark curses that burned the victim from the inside out, cast by Marcus Flint whom she had taught barely four years earlier. And Rubeus Hagrid, the gentle giant, fought long and hard, dispatching dozens of Death Eaters, their curses rolling off him as waves break upon rocks, until they banded together and brought him down with the Killing Curse. He fell, crushing two more of their number, fighting to the very end.

At dawn of the third day Voldemort, watching the battle as it had progressed, stepped through the mist of the battlefield which was strewn with the bodies of the injured, dying and the dead. He had stayed low since his resurrection, building his power so that when he stepped amidst the battle, the magic radiated off him, its dark evilness sapping the will of those whom he fought. It was then, in that moment of despair that Harry Potter, flanked by his two best friends Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, and his newest ally and double spy, Draco Malfoy, had cut a path to the Dark Lord, dispatching all enemies that stood in their way. Blocked by a line of Dementors none of Voldemort's foes had been able to come close, but Harry with his stag Patronus and Draco with his terrifying Hungarian Horntail Patronus had quickly cut a path through the Dementors while Hermione and Ron fended off the stragglers until nothing but the bare earth had stood between Harry Potter and his fate. The Dark Lord's attack had been furious but Harry, after two years of training for this very moment held his own.

It was during this melee that Lucius Malfoy had crept up behind Harry but was intercepted by his son, who drew his sword. The battle between father and son had been just as furious but they resorted to fencing rather than spells. Back and forth they parried, lunged and riposted until Draco stumbled and was knocked onto his back. Lucius stood above his son, ready to kill him when Draco had rolled away and blindly thrust his sword forward, feeling it rip through skin, muscle and bone. And so ended, Lucius, last of the Dark Malfoys, and it was on that battlefield that Draco claimed his birthright.

Hermione Granger, a witch born to two Muggle parents, proved her worth to wield a wand, that day. The Head Girl of Hogwarts stood steadfastly, never straying too far from Harry, defending him against other attacks. With the depth of her knowledge and her skill in the wand, she repelled Death Eater after Death Eater who dared to approach. Ron Weasley fought beside his brothers as they fended off their enemies. Even when first Fred then Bill fell by his side, both by the Killing Curse, he stood his ground fighting with the desperation of a man who knew that he was overwhelmed. When it seemed that his strength would fail him, Draco Malfoy came to his side and in that moment the Gryffindor and the Slytherin forged an unbreakable friendship.

Exhausted but determined, Harry proved beyond any doubt that he was a Gryffindor as he fought Voldemort - a wizard who was as powerful and more experienced than he, and whose evilness had daunted even the most battle-hardened Auror - but more importantly to him, the wizard who had murdered his parents. Careful not to use their wands against each other, they hurled wandless curses at each other for what seemed to be a lifetime to those that watched fearfully from the castle battlements. At the peak of the battle, when it looked as though Harry's strength would fail him, Voldemort cast the deadly Killing Curse but even as it streaked towards the boy, an enormous black dog leaped in front of him and took the curse. When the body landed it lost the form of the dog and in its place lay Sirius Black, his dark eyes now vacant but his face retaining that look of grim determination. With the renewed strength of his rage and grief, and with his friends channelling their own magic into him, Harry screamed his final curse and Voldemort, the last Heir of Slytherin, was consumed by a blinding light and was no more.

As though the world sensed the passing of the greatest Evil of the time, all was silent, and when the smoke cleared Albus Dumbledore, wearied from all his fighting, scattered the ashes of the Dark Lord so that he would be beyond resurrection and picked up the limp body of Harry Potter. With all the magical energy drained from him, Harry, near death, had been Apparated quickly to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Only when the dust finally settled and the dead and injured seen to, was the extent of their losses evident. Of the five hundred who had battled, only one hundred and fifty remained. The forces of Dark had been all but annihilated including Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. Less than fifty or so stragglers remained, whisked away to Azkaban. Of the defenders, only half of their numbers were left standing. Amongst the dead had been Fred and Bill Weasley, Professors McGonagall, Vector, Flitwick, Hagrid; no less than thirteen seventh year students and also Colin Creevy of sixth year who, as a war correspondent, was caught in the crossfire.

Harry's convalescence had been long and arduous. The battle had left scars all over his body but deeper ones on his mind. He lay, unresponsive and apathetic to all those who came to visit, not even changing expression as Remus Lupin came and told him gently that Sirius had left everything to him and left the werewolf as his guardian. The day after his graduation, two long months after the battle, Harry slipped out of the hospital and vanished from the Wizarding world.