The Girl in the Tower

The Girl in the Tower

Chapter Thirty-four: Smoke & Mirrors

~

The members of the Order did not make their way outside with brooms in hand, nor did they mount thestrals and take to the sky. Instead, they crowded into the secret Apparation chamber beneath the Hogwarts library. Harry's confused questions went unanswered by Hermione and Ron, who often glanced at each other for help.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you should talk to Dumbledore."
"Harry Potter!" came a voice, rising above the din. It was the headmaster, calling to him and scanning the crowd.
Harry gulped and looked to his friends.
Hermione urged him to answer the summons. "You'd better go see what he wants!"
"Right," Harry muttered, not knowing why he was invaded by unease and his pulse quickened. The feeling of dread only grew as he made his way across the room. He approached the old wizard and waited.
"Harry," Dumbledore said, "there's something I need to speak to you about. I was waiting for Nikolae, but he says he will meet us."
"What is it, sir?" Dumbledore seemed nervous and hesitant and Harry took it as a bad sign. "What haven't you told me this time?"
"You've always been intuitive." Dumbledore sighed. "Though I fear your reaction, I'm afraid."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Then it has to do with Sara."
"I want you to remember that she kept this from you because I asked her to, though she wasn't comfortable with the idea and refused to lie if you asked outright."
Harry felt himself growing angry and was quick to reign it in. "Just tell me."
"As you wish." Dumbledore sighed again. "As you can see, we are not flying out to meet Voldemort. The battle will take place at your house in Princeton Heights."
"What?" Harry's heart started to hammer in his chest. "Sara's there alone!"
"She'll be fine, Harry. She agreed to do this."
"You used her as bait!"
"We did, but with great reluctance. We had to consider Voldemort's mentality. Why take on all of us when one of his prime targets sits alone, weak, and unaccompanied?"
Harry's hands curled into fists. "I can't believe you!" he shouted, his anger escalating. "You're her uncle!"
All conversation stopped and the room turned its collective attention on the headmaster and his apprentice. Dumbledore noticed the silence and the eyes upon them and addressed everyone present.
"You're all wondering why Harry is upset I imagine."

There were nods and mumbled agreement.

"It is because he has only just been told what is really happening here. He was not alone, for only those who needed to know were told." He took a deep breath. "Sara Lemke, the Elemental and Harry's future wife, has agreed to place herself in a position to lure Lord Voldemort into a trap at my request. It is there that we go tonight, to Harry and Sara's house, and that is why we are all crammed into this room. When we get the sign we await, we Apparate as a group to ambush the Death Eaters."
This news was met with a mumble of surprise and concern.

Harry glared at him. "I'm going NOW! Sara isn't strong enough to defend herself as you well know!"
"Wait, Harry." Dumbledore placed a bony old hand on his shoulder. "We need you here. You'll know when the time comes. Sara said you always know when she needs you. Also, the locator you wear will give us foolproof indication."
"You can hear her telepathy. I can't. Besides, I'm not the only one in this room with a locator. You can use Ron's or Hermione's. I'm going."
"If you go, then it's all for nothing. He will not attack her if you're there."
"What am I supposed to do then? Stand here and wait for her to get hurt? You can't just rely on theory!"
"Do you trust me?" Dumbledore asked, looking Harry in the eye. Or use a different speech tag besides asked.
"I can't. Not this time."
"Then trust in Sara."
Harry looked at his mentor for a long moment before sitting on the steps. His eyes lowered to the floor, troubled.

* * *

Christina grew nervous as she watched Sara bustle about her bedroom, tossing various items into a backpack. Clothes, another one of those funny cloaks, other things she couldn't put a name to. Sara wore jeans, even though the night turned out to be balmy and warm. Christina had never seen Sara wear jeans, though she didn't know why this struck her as odd. Didn't everyone wear jeans? Sara always wore skirts or pretty dresses and usually looked like a modern Gypsy with style and grace. Her relaxed manner was gone. Sara seemed on edge. Her hair was pulled back, wrapped tight to her head and she was all business. She added a gleaming dagger to the bag and a tiny, rolled-up rug.
"No matter what, don't go outside for any reason. Stay out of the courtyard and off the balconies. Keep off the roof and don't go near any windows."
"Ok." Christina acquiesced. "But won't you tell me why? Where are you going?" You can't acquiese a sentence.
"Oh." Sara stopped to consider the complexity of explaining. "I'm just going outside."
"Right."
"Don't worry. Just stay wherever there are four solid walls. If anyone comes in, I want you to hide until you're sure it's one of us."
"It's that man again, isn't it? The one who came to Draco's house?"
"It is." Sara sighed. "Promise me you'll hide. I'm not kidding. Besides, Draco will kill me if anything happens to you!"
Christina smiled. "Will he be coming back tonight?"
"I don't know," Sara admitted as jealous anger shot through her at Christina's obvious affection for Draco. "Now promise."
"I promise to hide until I know it's safe."
Sara shouldered her pack and put a hand on Christina's arm. "Now keep that promise!"

* * *

Sara found Nikolae waiting in the coat room near the front entrance, wearing the sheet wrapped twice around and tied on one shoulder. She again laughed at his appearance. "I can't get over it," she said as she beheld him. "It's so bizarre."

She dumped the bag onto the floor and each took what they would need. Sara looked at her watch and took a deep breath. "It's time, Nikolae. I have to go out now."
With frightened eyes, he drew her into an arduous embrace, resting his head against her cheek. His breath was cold on her skin and Sara's hand touched the back of his head, smoothing his hair. Nikolae hesitated.
"Go on," she said. "Do it."
The vampire sank his sharp fangs into her neck and Sara gasped, though his bite was the very meaning of gentleness. He took from her only the smallest drink and trembled as he pulled away.
Sara smiled and kissed his face. "I love you, Nikolae. Whatever happens, I want you to know that."
Nikolae pressed a square of linen against the small wounds and kissed her in return. "I have loved every Elemental that has lived for a thousand years, but only Antonya is closer to my heart. There is such passion in you, Nikita, even when you suffer. There is such beauty in you that one must risk death to protect it or die from the pain of its loss."
Sara was overcome with emotion and tears leaked from her eyes as she put her arms around him. When she pulled away, there were tears in his eyes as well.
"Nikolae!"
"It's your blood, Nikita. It elicits such emotion! How does one live with such pain and desperation? I'm nearly overwhelmed with it."
"Then you understand me at last, my friend."
"Yes. And can only respect you more for it.
"Come," she said and led him to the door. "I don't want them coming into the house to find me. We're having a party here tomorrow."
He smiled as she opened the door, then left her with the swoosh of a black cloak.

* * *

A girl with platinum hair that held the soft, silvery moonlight, lovely fine features, and a stomach full of butterflies stood on the edge of the cliff until the feeling grew intense. Danger was coming, lots of it, and she turned back toward the house, walking slow, wandering really, with her cloak swirling around her. The winds blew from the north and they brought the scent of death, so detectable as to be obvious. She wondered if they knew.
It seemed to happen in one suspended fraction of time. One moment she was alone in the middle of the yard between the house and the cottage, the next she was surrounded by a blur of black and white. Dark cloaks swooped down as if they were made of the night sky. White masks blinked past her eyes like shooting stars. She turned around and around, confused by their number - and having frantic second thoughts.
There was no time to think. No time to prepare a defense. She caught a glimpse of their weapons in the pinkish glow of the Orb. Then she heard the mind-shattering explosion of gunfire, clapped her hands over her sensitive ears and screamed. The bullets ripped through her body, blood spilled down the front of her white cotton dress. It stained her hair and the ground at her feet. Collapsing to her knees, she struggled to breathe, but her organs were failing, torn to shreds and bleeding life from her body. One last bullet slammed through her chest, chasing the pain to new heights and she fell to the ground, staring up at the Dark Mark, floating high above like an epitaph.

* * *

Draco stood in front of the Dark Lord, facing Sara, his eyes glued to her body, unable to breathe. He'd tried to run to her while the bullets were blazing, but he was stopped by a strong hand on his collar. Now, in the silence, in the smoky stillness, his voice broke free.
"SARAAAAA!!!" he screamed, unable to stop, frantic, panicked and terrified. Hysterical with the thought that what he saw before him was not a dream, it was not a hallucination, nor a trick of the light.
"SARAAAAA!!"
He was running, though he had no knowledge of his actions, he could think only of her, of getting to her. He stopped short and dropped to his knees in a crimson pool. He knew there was no saving her. Her body was broken, torn, and all the blood she possessed had left her it seemed and he had never known such loss. Sara meant more to him than anyone. She meant so much to him; she was everything! His friend, his driving force, the only opinion that had ever mattered. She had changed him from the moment they'd met, made him a better person, and she had loved the person he'd become. Now she was gone. Never to cast her radiant smile upon him again. And she lay like this; she had died like this for no clear reason. Only because she existed and nothing more.
Draco wished they would open fire on him as he took her lifeless hand and kissed it, wishing he could go wherever she was because he didn't want to live in a world where she didn't exist. His heart was bleeding, tortured, as if stuck through with a poison blade, twisting, until he thought he could die from the hurt it caused. Draco went on screaming with the greatest pain he had ever known as the Death Eaters looked on and laughed at him. He screamed her name until his voice was spent and his pleas came out in a hoarse whisper, choked with tears.
A familiar voice came into his head as he held her hand against his cheek.

Draco, it said. Get down!

* * *

She simply couldn't help it. She had to look. Any living, breathing, thinking person would have to look. The explosion of noise, which sounded like the rupture of gunfire, had shaken the windows and now there was nothing except the unmistakable absence of noise, divided by one person's muffled screaming. Christina moved the curtain only the slightest bit as she sat on the floor, off to the side so there was no silhouette, and peeked out. The first thing she saw was a sea of white masks, lustrous like old bones in the moonlight. The cloaked figures who wore them stood in a semicircle, staring in one general direction. As Christina followed their collective gaze, her eye caught on a lone mask, so white it glowed, lying on the ground, discarded.
Someone, she whispered. Has seen The Phantom of the Opera one too many times.
She had to peek out a little more to widen her view, but didn't dare open the drapes any further. She moved to the window's other side with the greatest care, afraid of attracting the attention of the frighteners. Her pulse quickened at the thought and she considered where she should hide if someone looked up.
It was easier to hear this close to the glass. She now discerned the laughter of many and that single tortured voice had grown hoarse, but was distinguishable. And it was familiar. It almost sounded like a name being called in absolute terror - or maybe horrified shock was more like it. It was the most awful sound and it hurt Christina's heart to hear it. That one voice was the very essence of grief.
She pulled the curtain out only a centimeter, but it was enough to make out two figures in the night. She recognized Draco and her heart raced, knowing he was alive and here at the house, but dread encompassed her when she realized it was his voice she'd heard. A voice that had now gone quiet, broken and exhausted. He knelt on the ground, looking down on the second person, cradling her hand against his face. Christina was sure this figure was a woman because silvery golden hair fanned out around her, full of a dark and shiny substance she took to be mud. Her rational mind whispered as she watched. The ground is warm and dry, it said. The grass is thick. There is no mud. Christina pushed this knowledge away, unable to deal with the implications of it. It was obvious who the girl on the ground was. The horror of Draco's screams echoed through her head and Christina came to realize that Sara was dead. Tears filled her eyes, yet something seemed odd. Out of place.
To her surprise, an entire group of people quite suddenly appeared, drawing sticks from their cloaks at once and those in front yelling nonsense words at the frighteners. It made no sense, what happened next, as white masks flipped through the air or fell to the ground, still attached to the wearer. Flashes of gunfire marked the black cloaks, but the bullets appeared to turn around somehow and strike those who issued them. Not one of the newcomers fell.
Draco threw himself over Sara's unmoving body, close to the ground, just as a thick, crackling blanket of what could only be described as static electricity rolled like a wave through the enormous group of frighteners. Many sharp cries were heard as their metal guns channeled high voltage into their hands and then exploded with trapped ammunition. Many collapsed; others dropped their weapons and reeled from the jolt. Some scattered, but one remained at the forefront, unflinching and unharmed.

* * *

Harry's breath stopped dead in his throat. His heart stood still as his eyes found Draco in the darkness. Red streaked his platinum hair; blood smeared the side of his face and oozed from his neck. He held a bloodied hand and stared into the sky, oblivious to the engagement that erupted around him.
Harry felt a curse dissolve against his dragon hide cloak, but the battle faded from his focus. The world grayed until it was a silent blur around him and nothing existed except Draco and Sara. He did not know he was screaming, or that he was moving forward. He did not know that Dumbledore was trying to get to him, stop him before he reached her. Harry could only see the blackened holes in Sara's red dress, the torn flesh on her arms and legs, the blood in her hair, and her blank eyes, staring up at the stars, glassy and half closed.
"HAAAARRRRRYYYYY!!!!!" Dumbledore shouted as he ran through the many wizards, desperate to reach him, knowing what manner of terror must be fueling the boy's thoughts. "HARRY, STOP!!"
Harry's knees dropped into the syrupy, sticky puddle beside her, his eyes wide, unable to breathe, silent and struck with disbelief. He did not feel the book he concealed press hard into his ribs or recall the wand in his hand. His heart slammed against his chest, he felt sick and his every sense betrayed him. His eyes blurred, his mind and body were numb. Harry did not feel Draco's hands on his shoulders or hear his shouted words. He could see only Sara's blood-smeared face.
A mangled bullet tumbled from her side and onto the ground beside her and Harry's breath hitched as reality tried to invade him. Draco took the bullet and held it in front of Harry's face, yelling in his ear, but Harry did not hear and the hand was invisible to him, blurred and unfocused.
"HARRRRYYYYY!" Dumbledore bellowed, defending himself as he ran, colliding with others as they moved about in the chaos.
"POTTER!" Draco shouted. "LOOK AT ME!"

* * *

Ginny accepted the cloak and the little flying carpet as she stood on the roof, unafraid and confident of victory. "The boat is tied by the entrance to the tunnel. I've set up a good system and it's all go with me, so you'd better get going. Good luck." She brought the cloak around her shoulders, pulled the hood over her face, and disappeared.

* * *

Christina held her breath as Harry collapsed at Sara's side. Tears rolled down her face as she imagined how he must feel and knowing he didn't deserve such agony. Not Harry. Christina thought Harry Potter deserved only the best things in life. She had never met someone like him before, who elicited her greatest respect in mere minutes. She thought he had the heart of a saint and it killed her to see him in such pain.
It also upset her to see the elderly man Harry and Draco called "Professor" and Sara referred to as "Uncle Albus" running across the expanse, through the crowd, and calling to Harry loud and clear. She was touched by the urgency in his concern and knew Harry needed such empathy and kindness right now. Harry, she knew, would never be the same again. Christina saw how he looked at Sara, how he sometimes touched her face with such gentle affection that to look on was soul stirring. One could only be envious of Sara, of anyone who is shown such intense and unconditional love. Now, the object of that love lay dead before him and his countenance held absolute decimation.
Harry didn't move, simply knelt there beside her, his face pale in the moonlight overwhelmed, devastated, and in agony. He was catatonic, refusing to acknowledge Draco, who shook him, yelled and carried on. It annoyed her that he would have such disrespect for Harry's loss, regardless of the fighting all around them. She wanted to go downstairs at once, venture into the midst of it and demand he leave Harry alone, but then she recalled Draco's own anguished screams and was sorry for her anger. She didn't know how they felt, losing someone so dear to them. She could only aspire to understand. With the small exception of peeking out the window, Christina decided to honor her promise to Sara, now more than ever.
At last, the old man threw his arms around Harry and dragged him to his feet, turning his face away from the body. Draco stood beside them, frantic, pointing at Sara, holding up a small glinting object, though his words were lost in the confusion. People lay everywhere, presumably dead, most in white masks. Christina once again grew scared when she saw the masks outnumbered Harry's companions by maybe seventy. Their numbers were small, perhaps thirty-five in all, but they were holding their own, whatever it was they were doing.
The masks encircled them and pressed in on all sides, with Harry, Draco, Uncle Albus and Sara at the center of it.
Out of the corner of her eye, Christina caught movement near the front of the gathering, outside the ring toward the road. A dark figure flew through the air. Christina watched it land as the sky flashed purple and thunder rolled across the clouds. Her curiosity overtaking her compassion for Harry, she watched as lightning shot forth from this figure and many white faces fell to the ground. The ever-tightening ring was broken and those who remained fled at once to either side. Christina's breath caught in her throat.

* * *

Harry tried hard to follow what was being said. He couldn't believe what he'd seen, but the feeling had been replaced with disbelief of another sort as he struggled to take in what they were trying to say. He looked from one pleading, worried face to the other, then back again, looking for truth. Looking for understanding.
"Look, Potter!" Draco shouted with red-rimmed eyes and tears still drying on his face, pointing at the ground around her. "The bullets have come out! We're not making this up!"
"Use your intuition, Harry!" Dumbledore told him. "I know you can sense it! Look at your locator!"
Harry gave each face a blank stare.
"Potter! You must know it's true!"
Something happened far behind them, though no one cared to investigate why the Death Eaters chose to break formation, but were glad when the Order filled the gap and went back on the offensive, though it was doing them little good. No one expected Voldemort to have such a large gathering. The Order was outmatched. They were losing, but only two had fallen by Dumbledore's count. Two they couldn't bear to lose. Dead or alive had yet to be determined.
"Harry," Dumbledore said in his gentle voice, "the fingers are moving."
Harry allowed himself to be turned and, once again, his eyes found her face but something had changed. She no longer stared at the sky. The lids had fallen shut. Then he noticed the movement. Her hands clutched at the grass and her back arched as bullets surfaced and spilled to the ground as though she pushed them out through an act of will.

"How..." he managed. "How can it be?"
"I told you, Potter! Sara is fine! She spoke to me, she attacked the Death Eaters!"
"Harry." Dumbledore gave him a warm smile "This is Nikolae."
"Polyjuice Potion, Potter! He's a vampire!" Draco explained, glad to end Harry's suffering. "He's immortal! He can't die!"
Harry smiled and laughed. Then he collapsed to his knees and sobbed into his hands with no other way to express his relief.

* * *

Christina looked from one to the other. It was dark, but not dark enough to be mistaken. It was Sara.
Sara dead on the ground.
Sara throwing lightning at the frighteners, fifty yards away.
She should have seen it before. Sara left the house wearing jeans and with her hair wrapped in a bun. The Sara on the ground was wearing a white dress, saturated with blood. How could it be? she wondered. Did Sara have a twin? How did she fly in off the roof? How did she manage to direct the lightning with her outstretched hands? How were people hurt by being on the receiving end of a pointed stick? Christina was dizzy with the impossibility of what she'd seen. Of what she still saw happening right outside the window.
As Harry's defenders pushed back the encircling threat, the 'real' Sara slipped into their midst, anonymous.

* * *

Draco went down on his knees as the wounds in Nikolae's body closed and healed, rid of their bullets. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry raised his eyes. "She tried to tell you," he whispered, "but you can't hear her voice."
Harry threw his arms around his childhood rival and Draco pulled him into a fierce embrace. He held on for a long moment, his eyes falling closed, ridding himself of all the anguish he'd felt in the comfort of this single gesture. When he'd thought Sara was dead, it was Harry he'd thought of.
Harry pulled away, the hug becoming immediately odd and uncomfortable but, for those few moments, it was necessary, welcome, and the only thing in the world that was real.
"Potter!" Draco said, his face lighting up as he stared into the crowd. "It's her!"
"HARRY!!" they heard from perhaps twenty paces away.

Harry's eyes snapped up, frantic to find the source in the many faces.

* * *

"Ron!" Hermione yelled as she out-cursed yet another Death Eater. "Ron! What do we do? We can't hold them much longer!"
"Where's Moody?" he yelled back, busy with his own advancing threat. "We need help!"
"He's hurt!" she answered, not knowing if this was true. She'd seen Moody fall, saw wizards in white robes bearing prominent red crosses and the words "St. Mungo's" in bold black letters carry him off - as they did with the wounded Death Eaters, too - but she did not know his fate. "Think fast! We need a plan!"
At the sound of splashing, both turned in surprise and watched as two nearby Death Eaters burst into flames and screeched as they burned, their black cloaks blazing orange, igniting their hair. The ties that held their masks burned and fell away.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron shouted, now standing back-to-back with Hermione as they talked around curses and blocked strong offensives.
"It smelled like alcohol. I don't know! I didn't see anything!"
A third and fourth person backed into them on either side, forming a solid 360-degree defense. Susan hurled curses without hesitation or pause for breath, saying anything that came to her and the strategy was working quite well. Even simple spells, such as her favored combination of Expelliarmus and Patrificus Totalis had a hindering affect and she directed them without tactic.

Seamus had always been a bungler with a wand but was still on his feet. "Did you see that?" he yelled. "Who here can set people on fire??"

"Besides you?" Hermione tried to jest.
"It's not possible!" Ron bellowed. "I bet Dumbledore can't even manage that!"
"You're right!" Hermione agreed. "It's not possible, at least not by magic. But didn't you hear the splash?"
"I heard it!" Susan offered. "It smelled like liquor! We were right next to it!"
"It smelled like swill!" Seamus shouted.
Again came the sound of liquid pouring as though from a bucket and three more Death Eaters burned and ran from the gathering, heading straight for the cliffs through a wide path that cleared for them. Without hesitation, they leapt over the edge; their only thoughts of getting into the water.
"Sara can throw fire!" Seamus recalled.
Hermione burst into tears.
Seamus wondered at this. "Where's Harry?"
"With Sara," Ron answered with an unsteady voice. "Voldemort's people killed her before we got here."
"No they didn't!" Susan yelled. "We just saw her not two minutes ago! She was calling to Harry!"
"It's true, mate!" Seamus confirmed. "She looked fine to me!"
Hermione laughed through her tears, knowing Sara must have been clever enough to use a decoy. She'd only glimpsed the body as they had been immediately engaged in battle, and had seen Harry's reaction to what she'd thought was obvious.
"And just in case you two didn't realize it," Seamus added, "we're losing. Tonks is down and so is Mary."
"Mary!" Hermione gasped. "Where's Neville?"
"Hurt, but he's ok. They're fixing him up."
"Who else?"
"Tom," Susan announced, "from The Leaky Cauldron. He was still moving, though."
"We need to find Dumbledore!" Ron shouted. "Before we're all on the ground!"

* * *

Sara pushed her way through and threw her arms around him. She kissed his face as he held her so close there was no room left to breathe.
"I thought..." he said as his eyes fell closed, unable to believe she was here with him, alive and unharmed.
"I know, Harry! I tried so hard to tell you! I knew what you would think. All I could do was tell Uncle Albus and Draco and hoped they got to you first. I'm sorry." She kissed him. "I'm so sorry you had to see that."
"I thought you were dead!"
"It's ok now," she whispered. "I saw it in the Orb. They would have killed me, Harry. I didn't know what else to do."
He kissed her, having been struck by yet another curse, reflected off his dragon hide cloak, sent by Charlie Weasley from Romania one year as a birthday gift. "Get back in the house," he told her, looking around at the failing battle, "this isn't going to plan."
"What do you mean?"
"There are twice as many as expected!"
"I'm not leaving your side."
Harry knew better than to argue. "Then take my cloak and stay close!"
Sara dropped to one knee and took the Orb from Nikolae's finger, returning it to her own. Nikolae was alert, but still recovering.
I need help, Nikita, he said through tired thought. Draco's blood wasn't enough.
Without pause, Sara grabbed a fallen Death Eater and dragged him to Nikolae's side. The vampire lifted his head with effort, still in the image of Sara, and sank his teeth into the wounded man's throat.
Splash!
Poof!
"Look out!" Harry cried and pulled Sara hard aside as more burning figures rushed past.
"Don't worry! That's just my secret weapon."
"Sara?" he shouted back through the roar of noise around them. "Why isn't the Orb working?"
She glanced at the dark Orb and looked him in the eye. "Because I'm not afraid."

* * *

Dumbledore pointed his wand at his own throat. "Sonorus!" he spoke above the noise, whispering so not to alert the surrounding town. "ORDER OF THE PHOENIX! REGROUP! REGROUP!!" He re-pointed the wand. "Quietus."
The exhausted and battered witches and wizards followed orders at once, forming a tight group in the center, surrounded by a thick ring of Death Eaters with Voldemort standing at the rear. Watching his enemies drop in number.
"Harry." Dumbledore kept his voice low. "We can't win this. We have to withdraw!"
"No! Not yet! We still have maybe twenty. It's enough!"
Ron squared his shoulders and blocked a curse. "I'm not giving up! I can take down a good lot before I drop out!"
"Professor," Seamus added, "we're staying. All of us."
"So be it." Dumbledore sighed, thinking twenty against sixty-five were terrible odds.
"Um..." Hermione's frightened voice drew their attention. "We might want to reconsider."
All looked around and saw why she shook with fear.
The Orb of Arassel erupted with pink light.
At least forty feral vampires, the mindless, common ones that could not be reasoned with, were running straight at them from within the trees.

Arthur Weasley put his arms around his wife.

"We're going to die," she whispered.
Voldemort raised a confident finger, pointing straight at the huddled Order. "Kill them all."
A figure pushed through the tight group, fast, barely seen and emerged in the path of the vampires.

* * *

"HA HA HA HA!" came a thick, deep, bellowing voice from outside the circle, now a horseshoe as the Death Eaters made way for the new attackers.

The vampires had all stopped short, which confounded Voldemort. He trained his eyes on the direction of this unfamiliar laughter.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "More defenders of Dumbledore's? Come to be slaughtered with the rest of them?" This earned a good round of laughs from his followers.
"We are the People of Keltse-tia. We come to protect the Elemental and all who defend her!"
Many gasps of delighted surprise came from the Order.
Ron grinned with relief and shouted his welcome. "Well, you've got bloody good timing!"
Voldemort ignored Ron, his eyes fixed on the tall burly man who led the villagers. "You're too late. The Elemental is dead. Let's hear your laughter now!"
"Are you so blind that you do not see the light of the Orb of Arassel? The Elemental is hardly dead! And I was laughing because only a fool would send feral vampires to face a superior of their species! HA HA HA! They'll do whatever a cognizant vampire tells them to!"
Now all the villagers were laughing and Voldemort was growing impatient. "I saw the Elemental die with my own eyes. Don't think Dumbledore can fool me with his smoke and mirror magic tricks! Besides, there is no such thing as a cognizant vampire!"
"That's what you think," came a youthful male voice and the girl in the bloody dress stepped further out. "Don't you know a predator when you see one?"
The Death Eaters took in a collective breath at what they took to be Sara, alive and undead and speaking with a voice that was not her own.
"Behold." The burly man grinned. "The Vampire Nikolae, who we proudly call our own."
Voldemort faltered, seeing this costly mistake for what it was and stalled for time. "What do you expect to do with twenty-five farmers and some women?"
Dimitri, the leader, grinned and gave another hearty laugh. "Twenty-five farmers, some women, and forty or fifty vampires." He turned to the crimson smeared girl with respect in his eyes. "Nikolae, whenever you're ready."
The Death Eaters attacked at once and, a moment later, the vampires were on them. The white masks of Voldemort fell to the ground in numbers. They were lifeless, dead as dead could be, and drained of blood. All of this took place in mere moments and in flashes. While none of them could move as fast as Nikolae, they were still swift as the wind. Many were cursed or confused and Sara had yet another idea.

"Harry!" she said. "Lift me up on your shoulders!"
Harry did without question, not knowing what she meant to do, but it was quick to come clear. Sara, under the protection of Harry's cloak, raised her hand in the air and the light of the Orb reached the outer ring of Death Eaters. Members of the Order whose wands failed them moved inside and those who were immune took to the forefront and led a passioned assault. Nikolae led the villagers on an exterior attack, taking down scores of Voldemort's army, who had no power thanks to Sara and the ring she wore.
Dumbledore battled with Voldemort, mostly to keep him from cursing the Order, as he was the only one who could. Harry passed Sara to Mr. Weasley, who was tall enough to lift her high and whose magic had failed him.

Harry took up position next to Draco, who glanced at him, grinned and winked as Death Eaters continued to run from the crowd, trailing flames.

"Hell of a night for a barbeque, Potter." He laughed. "Avada Kedavra!"
"Malfoy! We can't use the Killing Curse!"
Draco looked at Harry as though he'd lost his mind. "Are we really supposed to kill them all with Riktusempra?"
"It's the rules! It's not our place to decide who lives or dies. They will be brought to justice! Unforgivable Curses are illegal! Are you willing to spend your life in Azkaban just to kill a Death Eater?"
"Depends on which one you mean."
"Harry!" Hermione yelled. "The vampires are leaving!"
It was Sara who answered from her place on Arthur Weasley's shoulders. "Nikolae says they've had their fill."
"Great!" Ron bellowed. "What do we do now?"
Harry glanced around. "It looks like we've evened the score, but I don't understand! Why are so many still standing?"
Splash!
Poof!
"Because!" Draco shouted. "These stupid baby curses are being reversed by their cohorts!"
Hermione grew frustrated as her exhaustion mounted. Her shoulders slumped inside her Auror's robe. "Just keep fighting!"

* * *

It was incredible, unbelievable, what had just taken place. It was dark, though it took little effort to see. There were the gas lamps that lined the cliffs, the ever-present moon, plus an odd pinkish-purple luminance, held aloft by the real Sara and, every two or three minutes, live fires ran shrieking through the diminished crowd, lighting the way as they went. The incredible thing was that this was not the unbelievable part.
Christina was still reeling from the sight. Her heart had seized when the bloodied, mangled, undisputedly dead body of the 'other' Sara emerged on the far side of the battle to face a regiment of human-like beasts, only to be joined by a small group of cloaked newcomers. The fighting nearly stopped while words were exchanged, but the calm lasted only a few moments. It was then that the beasts attacked the frighteners, going straight for the throat like rabid dogs. The scene was horrifying, but Christina swelled with hope. As it was, the heroic defenders were surrounded and outnumbered three to one.
The leader of the frighteners, the Dark One, fought hard with Uncle Albus and amazing things happened in rapid succession between them. She could have let her eyes linger on them until the conclusion, but the fact that the home team was barely holding its own had her heart racing as the savior beasts ran away one by one. Hope, it seemed, was to be short lived.
It was then, in the midst of her doubt, that a small army of creatures with long, pointy ears and enormous eyes appeared in the west side of the sprawling lawn, as if they had marched in from the road. She knew they had not. Even though Christina hadn't been looking in that direction and only realized their presence through periphery vision, she thought she might have noticed a hundred or so little bug-eyed creatures carrying mini torches before they came to a stop fifty yards away. All of them wore ratty old garments, much as Christina herself had worn until she met Draco, except they were more like sack dresses, tied at the shoulders. The one who stood apart was the lone exception. He wore little clothes, modeled after normal people.
The Dark One, who still battled with Uncle Albus, called to his followers. "Fall back! FALL BACK!!" he yelled and pointed his wand at the ground. A curse took the old man off his feet and threw him over the heads of the masked minions. Nikolae, now in his natural form and wearing a black cloak he'd taken from a fallen frightener, appeared just in time to catch Albus before he hit the ground.
The frighteners were now in group formation, the thirty or so who were left, with their backs to the cliffs and a sea of white masks staring across at the good guys, who now stood before the midget army. Sara was placed on the ground and the light she held went dark.
"DOBBY!" Harry shouted.
"I promised," the little elf shouted back. "Never to help Harry Potter again. So, Dobby has brought every house-elf at Hogwarts to help everyone else!"
"Dobby!" Harry grinned. "I could kiss you!"
The elf appeared shocked by this. "Dobby has never been kissed by a wizard, sir!"
So that's it! Christina thought. They're wizards! It all made sense! The cloaks, the robes, and the sticks, of course, were magic wands! She smiled with this revelation, but HOW COULD IT BE?
Harry laughed aloud. "Come on, Dobby. It seems we have a fight to win."

The night erupted with the sounds of snapping, so many that it became a continuous drone, like the prolonged crackle of static. The creatures did not storm the frighteners, they were simply standing there one moment, the next they had infiltrated the group. They also didn't stay and have long battles with their chosen opponent; they blinked in just long enough to cause some damage, then blinked out and appeared somewhere else. The frighteners were harming each other trying to curse a creature who was no longer there and, when the little elves withdrew, there were only fourteen frighteners standing. Christina thought it odd that not one of them had attacked the Dark One.

* * *

The Death Eaters fled.

Voldemort tried to rein them in, but he was surrounded by the most unlikely of armies and all eyes were on him. He had almost no support remaining, save a handful of his most faithful minions. Draco was happy to see The Tickler was still available for a little revenge. His head still hurt, after all. A few of the others were casting spells from the woods to no avail. One of these burst into flames and flung himself off the cliffs.
Splash!
Poof!
The elves gathered behind the Dark Lord's group and forced them further into the yard where they were surrounded. Voldemort cast a shockwave spell that struck the little creatures hard enough to break their bones and blew many into the air, tumbling head over heels until they hit the ground. Several of them sat up, dazed. A few did not. Sara sent a fatal bolt of lightning, as she was enraged by this, but Voldemort deflected it with ease.
Harry looked around at the remnants of the Order. Draco, Dumbledore, Sara, Ron, Hermione, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Charlie, Snape, Nikolae and Susan Bones. Only five of the villagers remained.

"What's the plan?" Harry asked no one in particular. "How do we do this?"
"We should all attack him at once with the same spell," Hermione decided. "With so many of us, he'll have no defense strong enough to resist it."
Dumbledore smiled. "Right you are, Miss Granger."
"But what spell should we use?" Ron wondered.
Snape sneered and raised his voice. "How did you get into the Wizard Defense League? Isn't the spell obvious, Weasley? Any first year would know it!"
"What is it we want to accomplish?" Dumbledore asked. "What spell will weaken his ability to fight us more than any other?"
"Avada Kedavra?"
Susan had the answer and whispered it to the others. "Expelliarmus!"

Charlie's wand flew from his hand.

Susan cringed. "Oops. Sorry!"
"Of course!" Ron agreed, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "He can't fight us if he has no wand!"
Draco scowled at Ron. "Bravo, Weasley! How does it feel to be the only one who doesn't get it? Even the Hufflepuff knew!"
"And what is that supposed to mean, Malfoy?" Susan seethed. "Are you saying the Hufflepuffs are a stupid lot? If so, then perhaps you should hear what the rest of us think of the Slytherins!"
Sara looked to Harry, horrified. Harry looked to her as well, hoping she hadn't heard.
"Shove off, Ginger. Don't be such a whiner."
Ron came to her defense at once. "You got something against red hair, Malfoy?"
Hermione chuckled. "Yeah, Malfoy. You might want to look around because you're surrounded by it." She paused, wearing a satisfied smirk as Draco glanced around and saw how true this was. Susan Bones, four Weasleys and now Fred and George gimping back from the hospital area with Finny supported between them. "Red heads and Hufflepuffs are good enough to defend you, keep you safe from Voldemort, but yet you consider yourself above them?" Hermione looked to Susan and Ron. "I say we toss him back to the other side and see how long he can fend us off!"
"Enough!" shouted Molly Weasley. "I hear one more comment out of any of you and they'll be carrying you out on a stretcher!"
The newly arrived Fred and George grinned behind their parents.

"She's not kidding, Malfoy!" Fred said.
George chimed in. "But we'd love to see you cross our mum!"
Molly spun on her heel and almost fell from the pain of a forgotten injury. Fred caught her and helped her to stand. "Thank you, dear," she said, then the anger returned to her face and her voice grew sharp. "That goes for the both of you, too! Not ONE MORE WORD!"
No one spoke.
"Umm..." Arthur stammered. "So... the spell will disarm... him?" From the corner of his eye, he saw many house-elves were now strewn on the ground and others were backing off as they grew frightened. They had to act now.
"Voldemort can still defend himself," Harry interjected, "just like Professor Dumbledore can."
Dumbledore smiled again. "Just as you can, Harry."
"Okay then." Hermione took charge. "Nikolae can signal by telepathy. When we see the..."
"Wedding cake," Nikolae said.
"Right. When we see the image of a wedding cake, cast your spell and mean it."
Ron thought a moment. "I think we should make a circle around him. Hit him from all sides."
"That will work nicely, Ronald," Dumbledore agreed. "Exactly what I was thinking."
Harry thought as he walked. "After the spell, the rest of you deal with the Death Eaters. Sara, the headmaster and I will deal with Voldemort."
"Why do you get to chose who does what?" Draco asked with a note of sarcasm.
"Just do it!" Hermione shouted.
Arthur cheerfully interjected, "You let us know if you need backup, Harry!"
Molly patted Harry's shoulder as they prepared to split up. "That's right, dear! We'll be nearby if you need us."
Harry smiled. "Thanks."

There was a brief pause as the Order formed a ring around Voldemort. The Death Eaters and the elves fell back. Ron, Hermione and Sara stopped for one last run-down with Harry.

"No one's lost theirs, have they?" Ron asked, talking fast as time had run out.
"Check."
"Check."
"Check."
"Me too. Check."
Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione. "Be ready. We'll call when it's time."
Without another word, they joined the others, circled around Voldemort. Ron was at the far end, closest to the cliffs and Hermione had her back to the west. Sara stood on the cottage side and Harry faced Voldemort with the house behind him. Between these four - who held the crucial positions - was everyone else. The fighting was heavy. The Death Eaters had obviously taken a potion because their strength was unwavering. They also blocked everything that was thrown at them.
These last few stood in a protective circle around their master - who cursed the Order over their heads - so a clear shot at Voldemort was impossible, at least not from all sides.

Nikolae had an idea. He cleared his mind, concentrating on the Death Eaters and feeling for their minds. He found them and mentally shouted, DUCK!
Without fail, every one of them ducked and, in this fraction of a second, the vampire switched his focus to the Order.
The Order responded as one to the image of a wedding cake with a shouted chorus of angry voices. "EXPELLIARMUS!"
Voldemort's wand flew from his hand. Sara plucked it from the grass and smiled across at Harry as she slid it into her cloak's always-ignored wand pocket. "I finally have a use for this!"
Harry smiled and turned his delighted face to his enemy. "Disarmed by first year magic! You're not as clever as I thought."
Draco, who ignored his orders and came to stand beside Harry, grinned at Voldemort. "I tried to tell him that yesterday, Potter, but he doesn't listen very well."
Voldemort turned his sinister glare on the traitor. "You'll pay, Draco Malfoy, when all is done. You'll regret the day you were born."
"Whatever!" Malfoy laughed. "One of two sides is walking away tonight and my money's on Potter and these other yahoos."
Harry rolled his eyes, but never took them from his target, even as he addressed Malfoy. "Yahoos? You mean the red heads and Hufflepuffs?"
"Only a true Slytherin would insult his friends." Voldemort chuckled. "You still belong to me, Draco."
"Friends?" Harry looked surprised and glanced at Malfoy. "Is that what you're telling people?"
Draco appeared shocked and appalled. "Of course not! He got it in his head some time ago and, as I said, you can't tell him anything. He's right thick, this one."
Without warning, Voldemort's hand extended like a flash and hurled a curse at an unsuspecting wizard. Dumbledore was knocked to the ground and rolled until he came to a stop, supine, gasping, his eyes closed. Harry screamed inwardly, knowing it was his own fault the Dark Lord had such opportunity. He didn't have time to react as he heard someone bellow a strong Blocking Charm.
"REPELLUS!"
Harry was taken off his feet and was hit by a curse without delay that struck him like a freight train. Sara threw her lightning and Draco was reciting all the Dark magic he knew it seemed.

Snape appeared above Harry with an extended hand. "Get up! NOW!"

Harry accepted the hand and was yanked to his feet. "Dumbledore!" he gasped.
"Don't worry, Potter." Snape sneered. "Voldemort saved the Killing Curse for you. I knew I'd end up having to save your meager life." He hurried away, irritated.
"Professor!"
Snape looked back.
"Thank you!"
Snape gave a brief nod and Harry swore a smile touched his lips.
"Potter!" Draco yelled. "Hurry up! I can't move my legs! It hurts!"
Harry turned and saw Malfoy on the ground, a creepy black essence winding up his legs like evil spider webs, his brow creased with the effort he made to get up while blocking curses.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted. "Help Malfoy!"

Hermione broke away and hurried toward Draco as Harry did his best to bring harm to Voldemort. Hermione reversed the damage, knowing what it was on sight. She pulled Malfoy to his feet and Harry grabbed him, whispering in Draco's ear. Draco smiled and set his eyes on Sara.
"Hermione!" Harry yelled when she moved to leave. "Get Ron!"
Sara smiled and pulled Voldemort's wand from her cloak. Harry winked at her as Draco sought out Nikolae, who could relay the rest of the plan to everyone else.
Splash!
Poof!
Only three Death Eaters remained and, at last, they began to show signs of weariness. Nikolae brought each to the ground in turn by taking their wands in a flash of movement and then drinking just enough of their blood to render them incapacitated, not dead. It was Dumbledore's wish that as many be brought to justice as possible.
At last, those who were still unhurt reformed the ring and aimed their wands, having received their instructions. Voldemort stopped fighting just long enough to see that he was alone and surrounded.
Splash!
Poof!
Voldemort went up in flames.
The wedding cake manifested in each mind and, once again, there was an eruption of voices. "Patrificus Totalis!" Voldemort froze as the fire engulfed his body and shrieked his horror as realization took hold of him.
With wands pointed, Harry and Sara spoke in unison. "Avada Kedavra!" Red and gold light issued forth from each wand and entwined the Dark Lord, whose eyes had gone wide with terror. The beautiful song of the phoenix filled the night as the former Tom Riddle collapsed to his knees.
"Get ready!" Harry shouted.

Sara drew static from the sky and directed the most powerful bolt of lightning she'd ever attempted. Voldemort exploded in every direction, falling to ashes at their feet.
"NOW!" Harry bellowed.
"IMMOBULUS!"
The escaping essence of Voldemort arrested mid-air as it tried to take flight and was held there by silver threads of light, tethering him to each wand. All except four.
Harry, Sara, Hermione, and Ron dropped to their knees, pulled the spell books from within their robes and cloaks and tossed them on the ground, planting their right hands on the symbols that adorned the covers. Sara tossed the Orb of Arassel into the center of their square.
"Celestira!"
"Endurius Magi!"
"Erudium Intellas!"
"Strategius Jackass!"
Light in four colors shot forth from each book to mingle together at the junction of the Orb.
"Reservo Abnocto!"
The Crux Cube appeared in a fountain of rainbow light, twirling its luminous brilliance, reflecting on the faces of dazzled witches and wizards who still held the essence of the Dark Lord above their heads. The cube lit up the night as it opened and even its creators looked on in awe. It was pure beauty to behold.
"Lower him!" Hermione yelled and, slowly, the others brought Voldemort down to the Crux Cube.

Harry gave a satisfied smile. "Let's do it."
"Clausum Semper!"
The frozen, silvery cloud that was Voldemort was enveloped by light so pristine, so blinding, it was difficult to watch as the cube swallowed him. He became smaller as the cube shone brighter until it closed and he was gone, sealed inside until the day the Crux Cube was opened again. A day they knew would never come.
"Exitus!"
The beams of rainbow light retreated to the Orb, then disentwined and faded to their respective book until all was dark again.
Some collapsed to the ground with relief and exhaustion. They had been locked in fierce battle for more than two hours and not one present had an once of energy left to call upon, save Nikolae.

Despite his fatigue, Draco was so thrilled to be free he couldn't help but get to his feet. He stepped over Harry, who lay in the grass, shedding his cloak with as little effort as possible.

Dumbledore had been taken away to the hospital area and was said to be recovering. There was no news on the others. All anyone could do was rest, but Draco had spotted The Tickler, collapsed in the grass where Nikolae had left him. It seemed so few remained that Draco guessed they must have come around enough to return to the catacombs by the Dark Mark.
"Hey!" Draco kicked The Tickler, who lay close to two other Death Eaters. "He's still alive! Can I kill just this one? Please? He broke by skull, you know, I owe him a good Killing Curse." He kicked the listless body again.
"Draco, NO!" Sara screamed. "MOVE! MOVE!"
Draco only looked to her, confused. "Huh?"
At once Draco was on the ground. Iron hands gripped his ankles and he was powerless. His wand slipped from his fingers as he hit the grass and tumbled out of reach.
Sara's eyes grew wide with terror. "DRACO!"
Draco was gone. The ground, where there was once three Death Eaters, was now saturated with moonlit emptiness. Everyone sat up.
Harry stared in disbelief. "Oh no," he whispered.
Sara was crying. She had seen the threat, but too late. Now she could see nothing of her friend. Her heart twisted with agony, knowing she might never see him alive again.

* * *