Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Cavalry Charge ( Chapter 24 )

Part 24

Draco saw a flash of gleaming fangs before he jerked his besom around and tore down the hallway, dimly aware of Harry flying close at his side as they turned the corner so sharply that only years of practice on the quidditch field kept him from being thrown off. He'd never flown anywhere except outside, often high amongst the clouds, and his brief time flying through trees during Voldemort's blizzard hadn't prepared him for diving through stone hallways. Turning too late or clipping the wall or Harry would send him crashing at such a speed that no amount of magical protection would save him.

Behind him, Fenrir's heavy paws slammed against the floor, occasionally hitting the wall as he turned and ran almost sideways in his rush. Draco spared a quick glance at the werewolf and then looked forward, telling himself not to look back again. Fenrir was all fangs and claws and muscle, and every inch of him strained forward, intent on ripping the Malfoy heir to pieces and splashing the castle red.

In the brief moment it took Draco and Harry to whip around the next staircase, however, Draco decided that he had to look backward again. There was no choice. If they didn't kill Fenrir before they reached the next floor, then they'd lead him right to the Room of Requirement and a feast of children to devour.

Spinning his besom around, Draco sacrificed precious distance between himself and the werewolf to aim and cast another athama spell at Fenrir's head. Although the death eater couldn't deflect it in this shape, he easily sidestepped it and lunged. Only the besom's matching lunge saved Draco from losing more than a few shreds of his robe in Fenrir's outstretched claws.

"What are you doing?" Harry yelled over the wind rushing by them as they flew.

"We've got to kill him!" Draco yelled back. "Before we reach the--!"

But he had no more room to maneuver. His one chance wasted, he flew only inches away from Fenrir's reach. Even at their speed, the werewolf's breath prickled at the back of his neck, the heavy heartbeat roared in his ears. In less than fifteen seconds, he'd gone from scattering the death eaters to becoming an imminent snack.

The besom jerked in his hands, nearly sending him crashing but saving him from a face full of flames as a fireball hurled over his shoulder and into Fenrir's mouth. The werewolf's fur ignited and his furious howls echoed through the castle as he tried to shake off the fire.

"Watch where you're casting!" Draco yelled at Harry.

"Why didn't that stop him?" Harry said, his eyes wide as he watched Fenrir keep on them, looking far more ratlike than Lupin with his fur falling out in blazing clumps and charred black skin landing on the floor behind him. "It barely slowed him down."

"Because he's a werewolf," Draco snapped. "You've got to get him with silver or cut off his head--"

They turned another corner and Draco's eyes widened. The hall ended with the staircase to one side but right in front of him was a large glass window, far too close to slow down for, let alone stop. He had no time to raise his wand and force it open. Screaming and raising his hands to protect his face, he crashed through in an explosion of glass and sailed out into the night.

His besom came to a stop out of sheer inertia. Sitting in mid-air, he whimpered with sharp pain all over his body, but pain could not drown out the panicked howl behind him than quickly grew fainter. He looked down and spotted Fenrir plummeting to the ground, his legs snapping as he landed.

Stupid werewolf couldn't stop either, he realized, looking back at the much larger hole Fenrir had left in the window. Blood dripped from the jagged ends of glass. Draco hoped most of that was Fenrir's.

The fall hadn't killed the death eater, but it certainly slowed him down. Dragging himself by his front legs, Fenrir turned toward the nearest door and moved at a surprisingly fast pace for a crippled werewolf. But not fast enough. Draco raised his wand and cast athama once more, and this time it connected. A second after he cast it, Fenrir's head neatly popped off and the body sprawled on the grass. Just to be sure, Draco accioed the head and sent it flying toward the Forbidden Forest.

Task done, he let his hand fall and slumped on his besom, catching his breath. Two death eaters killed already, bringing his total dead up to four, not including the ones he'd indirectly poisoned through his work with Severus. And one of them was a werewolf. Not bad for a craven little Malfoy.

"You're bleeding."

Draco blinked. So that's what the pain was, a thousand messy little cuts perhaps. He looked down at himself. No, just a few cuts, but they were very messy and they weren't at all little. Gouges on his shoulder, his left arm, his left thigh and one jagged line on his waist left him and his robe looking like a mess of wet black ribbons. They looked even worse, no doubt, because of the green light coloring his skin.

Green light? They both met each other's eyes and looked up.

A huge dark mark floated over Hogwarts, the luminiscent skull waving like a flag over a captured fortress.

"He's here for sure," Draco murmured. "The dark lord."

"Then let's get out of plain sight," Harry said, taking his good hand and leading him back inside. He stopped and stared at Draco, grimacing at the blood dripping down his wand. "I don't think I can fix those. We need to get to the room."

"Right," Draco said softly. Amazing how pain could suck all the fight out of him. "Lead on."

Their flight had taken them nearly to the other side of the floor, but fortunately they flew the rest of the way without incident. Draco followed with his head bowed, just hoping to reach the room in one piece and before he bled to death, but Harry's soft gasp roused him from thinking about his injuries. At first he couldn't tell what had caught Harry's attention. The torches were all dark with only a bit of green light coming in from a window at the other end of the hall. As they flew closer, he made out three bodies lying near the center of the hall, two wearing masks and one not.

Since they were all adults and Draco didn't care about anyone he knew would be here, he paid attention only to the death eaters, flicking their masks away. He didn't recognize either of them. Their faces were open in silent screams of pain, frozen in their final moments. Not until he made out the twisted outlines of their bodies under their robes did he understand why. Their arms and legs were violently twisted around.

"Hell of a jinx," he mumbled.

"Wouldn't expect less of her," Harry said softly.

Draco turned his attention to the other body and sighed. Now that he was close, he could tell it was McGonagall. Her eyes stared at nothing. Unlike the other two, she seemed to have simply fallen in a heap. The killing curse, most likely.

One less ally they could count on, he thought, but he didn't say it out loud. He simply put his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a soft shake.

"We've got to get inside," he whispered.

Harry nodded once, but it took another moment before he could turn away and leave her.

Despite Voldemort's magic-draining trap swirling in the dungeons, the rest of the castle still acted as if it had a mind of its own, revealing the door to them without any problem. They both stepped off their brooms, and Draco flipped his besom around to use it as a crutch.

"You shouldn't walk," Harry started, but Draco shook his head.

"No cushioning charms. Rather walk."

With a frustrated sigh, Harry turned and opened the door, going in first with his wand raised.

The Room of Requirement looked like a strange cross between a hospital and the room for hiding things. Tall piles of junk stacked on top of cabinets dwarfed the dozens of children seated on ancient chairs and mismatched mattresses. The sound of children crying filled the room, and several first years huddled in a corner with thin blankets over their shoulders. There were no adults. The oldest students tried to tend to the younger children, but there were only so many of them and they were all just as shocked. He glanced at a pair of Gryffindors sitting by the door, an older student holding a child but it was the older student who was crying, rocking back and forth with her arms around the first year and murmuring "she pushed me in and closed the door, she pushed me in and she closed the door" over and over.

The last student in, then. He snorted, but not too loud. That was the thing about light children. They just weren't equipped to deal with someone else's sacrifice.

Students sat neatly divided with red scarves on one side and green scarves on the other, and despite his injuries he smiled in relief. Although some of his little ones had bruises where falling stones had hit them, they were all there and in one piece. Even Blaise had escaped unscathed, although Draco thought he probably owed that entirely to the confusion when Gryffindor tower started to fall off.

"Harry!"

Draco winced as everyone turned to look at them, or rather at Harry, as Ron came towards him. His hand tightened around his wand. If Weasley had betrayed them and told everyone about their savior's tryst with a dark wizard, they could find themselves fighting their way back outside into the comparatively safer company of death eaters.

"Come on," Harry said, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I know Hermione can fix you up--"

"So can Blaise," Draco said softly. He moved out from under Harry's hand and took a step away from him.

"But--"

"I'll be fine. Go find out what they know." He met Harry's gaze and shook his head. "I know you don't believe me, but please humor me. I'm safer here if we keep our distance."

Unconvinced, Harry frowned but didn't argue. Trusting that Harry would be safe for a few moments, Draco limped toward his Slytherins. They all sat close together and kept a watchful eye on the Gryffindors, which making it hard to spot individual faces as he picked his way over forgotten trinkets toward them.

"Draco!" Vincent waved and came toward him. "You made it!"

All around him, Slytherins lost in their shock looked up and smiled in relief only to falter when they saw how hurt he was. Like a snake creeping back into a familiar den, he felt them moving around him and surrounding him, helping him sit down on the floor where Theo held Pansy in his arms. Dimly aware that Vincent had sent one of the girls to fetch Blaise, Draco leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

"Draco," Theo winced in sympathy. "You look like you've been cut to ribbons."

"I'll be fine when Blaise gets here," Draco murmured. "Besides, small price to pay for killing Fenrir."

Theo's eyes widened. "Fenrir? We heard howling but--"

"Oh yes, he was transformed and snapping at my back," Draco said. "Went through a window and the stupid thing followed me without a broom of his own. Managed to take his head off finally."

"Chased by a werewolf, nearly killed by a window," Pansy murmured. "Such a great warrior."

"Good to see you in one piece, too," he said.

With a wan smile, she put her arm around her waist. "Doesn't quite feel like it yet."

"If it's any comfort, the squid is dead. Snape sliced it in half."

"Did he? Yes, it does make me feel a little better."

"You saw McGonagall when you came in, right?" Theo asked. "You think Snape's dead, too?"

Draco shook his head. "No. Don't go spreading it around but he's with my father. I don't know how the fighting's going. The dark mark's floating over the castle and the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws have been rounded up in the great hall."

"They wouldn't send up a dark mark just for McGonagall," Theo said. "Who else is dead?"

"We are," Blaise cut in as he arrived, kneeling down next to Draco. "That's probably the only advantage we've got. The dark lord thinks he's already killed half the school."

"Not for long," Draco said. "I'm sure my aunt is rushing downstairs to tell him me and Harry are still alive."

He winced as Blaise examined his cuts, tugging the shreds of his sleeve and the side of his robe away to get a better view, and he shivered as the cool air touched his skin.

"Can you fix 'em up?" he asked.

"You don't think you can do it yourself?" Blaise drew his wand and sat down. "You're better at this than I am."

"Liar. You're just squeamish."

Blaise grimaced but he didn't argue. Draco considered himself lucky to only need a few heaen spells rather than the sticenia he'd cast on Pansy before, and he pressed his good hand against his mouth to smother his groans. If a girl could take it without screaming, surely he could, too.

By the third cut, he wasn't so sure.

"Theo," he hissed through gritted teeth, asking questions to distract himself. "Did everyone make it?"

"Yeah," Theo answered. "Greg said it was touch and go for awhile, the seventh years kind of grabbing kids and throwing them out while the professors tried to keep the tower from falling off. Didn't help that Blaise almost got his head hexed off when he came through."

"You owe me one for that," Blaise murmured as he worked. "For putting you back together, too."

"Just one," Draco ground out. "Saved your bloody life sending you through that fireplace."

Finally Blaise finished, adding two quick charms that cleaned off the worst of the blood and mended the biggest rips. It didn't hide the fact that Draco had been in a fight, but at least he didn't look so mangled anymore. After a few deep breaths, he got back to his feet, leaning heavily on his besom on wobbly legs.

"Whoa, don't rush yourself," Blaise said, putting a hand on his arm. "Take some time to rest."

"There isn't time," Draco said. "The dark lord is here--"

"But we're safe here," Blaise said.

"Don't be naive," Draco snapped. "We're safe only because he thinks we're dead. The moment he finds out we're here--"

"No, Harry, it's too dangerous!"

Draco's head snapped up in time to see Harry stop in front of several of his housemates, all of them looking typically stubborn. Harry had Hermione and Ron at his side, and no one looked ready to budge. Draco had no doubt as to what they were arguing about. The Golden Trio loved running headlong into danger and a castle full of Death Eaters probably seemed like a delightful romp and nothing would convince them otherwise.

He sighed. Not even the Slythrin Harry loved. Holding his besom a little tighter, he started towards them, feeling everyone else's eyes watching him.

"--don't care what you think," Harry said, glaring at Seamus. "Voldemort's going to kill everyone in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, if he hasn't already done it."

"I don't like it either," Seamus said, obviously offended by the implication. "But Harry, it's You-Know-Who and all his Death Eaters. They already destroyed our tower and flooded the dungeons. Three professors are dead--"

"--that we know about--" someone muttered.

"--and no one's come yet." Seamus shook his head. "There's no way we can do anything."

Harry opened his mouth to yell at them, but Draco cut him off.

"Such cowardice," Draco sneered. "Aren't you Gryffindors supposed to be the brave ones, running headlong where sensible people fear to tread?

The crowd of Gryffindors bristled while the room fell silent on both sides. The younger Gryffindors wondered if their house was about to finish what the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws started, while the Slytherins slowly reached into their robes, wondering if Malfoy was going to get them into a fight. Harry just looked happy that Draco was no longer bleeding to death.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Dean growled. "This isn't a conversation for dark wizards. For all we know, you might've helped You-Know-Who."

Draco glared back, but his anger didn't focus on Dean. Dumbledore's habit of keeping secrets might have helped the headmaster manipulate the school, but it also made things difficult when the old bastard wasn't around to explain his machinations. He looked around at the angry faces glaring at him and took a small step behind Harry, pride be damned, and besides, everyone knew he was a coward anyway.

"Draco isn't the enemy," Harry said, putting his arm protectively in front of Draco. "He's on our side."

"How can you be sure?" Seamus asked. "The little snake might've helped get the Death Eaters into the castle--"

"Without Dumbledore noticing?" Hermione asked. "Or any of the professors?"

"Sure," Seamus said. "Finch managed, didn't he? Convenient he was caught by Malfoy."

"I suppose You-Know-Who wouldn't mind me killing a few of his Death Eaters either," Draco drawled. "I'm sure he'll be happy to hear Fenrir's dead."

Seamus' jaw snapped shut. "Fenrir's dead?" he said after a moment, looking to Harry for confirmation.

"Draco took his head off," Harry said. "And he saved my life tonight. You don't like him, but Voldemort wants him as much as me."

"Don't have to say that like it's a good thing," Draco muttered. "So, is it just the four of us then?"

"Four?" Harry echoed.

"He means us," Hermione said, pushing her damp hair out of her face. "And yes, it's just us against Voldemort unless anyone else wises up and sees what's going on."

"In Gryffindor?" Draco gave a low, humorless laugh. It was easy to be brave behind Harry. "Really, Granger, you shouldn't expect lions to understand a snake's schemes."

"What scheme?" Dean demanded. "You-Know-Who doesn't know we're here. If we stay put and wait for help--"

"--then our rescuers will find our corpses under a pile of rubble," Draco said. "You-Know-Who's going to destroy the castle before the night's out. Filch's runes were found almost everywhere. Hogwarts was supposed to crumble in one strike."

"But we're still in one piece," Dean said.

"For now," Hermione said.

"You believe him?" Neville asked her, finally saying something.

"He's right," she said.

"You can't expect us to fight all the Death Eaters," Dean said.

"Unless you think you can lead everyone safely into the forest," Draco said, "that's exactly what we have to do. You're not helpless little first years, you're nearly of age--hell, some of you are of age. And you don't have to kill if you can't stomach the thought of it."

"So, what then?" Neville asked. "We charge straight to the Great Hall and face off with wizards even Aurors have trouble with?"

Draco sighed. Charge straight into battle? Was that the only way Gryffindors knew how to think, in nothing but straight lines?

"No," Ron murmured. "No, we couldn't match them in a straight fight, but if we come at this from an angle..."

"Like a bishop?" Hermione asked with a smile.

Ron smiled back at her, but he started glancing around the room as if he was searching for something. "You think we could get brooms in here?"

Harry shrugged. "If you need them, the room should make them."

"But will we be able to take them with us?" Ron asked.

Hermione paused to think. "Well, I know Filch used to get cleaning supplies from in here, so maybe it'll let some things out. Or maybe it brought them from somewhere else."

"So we need our quidditch brooms," Ron said. "Although it's a bit of a ways to the--"

A loud clattering behind them made everyone draw their wands as they turned, ready to attack whatever had snuck up on them. Instead they stared in surprise at the pile of brooms that had appeared on the floor. More than the Slytherin or Gryffindor brooms, the pile included every spare broom and every Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw broom, enough for almost all of them.

"Merlin," Neville whispered, walking over and picking one up. "It's mine, all right. How'd it do that so fast?"

"Maybe all the magic that can't get to the dungeons is making the rest of the castle kind of supercharged?" Hermione said. "Or maybe the castle's as desperate as we are. Or maybe--"

"Doesn't matter," Ron said, cutting her off with an apologetic look. "All right, quidditch is pretty good training for fighting anyway. Players, get to your brooms."

"This might work," Harry said, looking more open to the plan as he started to get an idea of what they could do. "Draco and I flew circles around those Death Eaters. Probably none of them have brooms."

"Blaise, Theo, Pansy," Draco called over his shoulder. "Get over here!"

"Right here," Theo said at his side, startling him. "We've been listening, just didn't want to get close in case they hexed you."

Draco nodded. Completely understandable. "Get our team together, all of them, even the young ones. Vince, see if you can't find anyone crossbred with something with teeth and claws. Make sure they can still cast spells, though. If they can't hold a wand, don't bother."

"Half-breeds?"

The surprised whisper that floated through the other house reminded Draco that they were surrounded by light wizards who'd never witnessed this aspect of dark culture. He glanced at the sea of red and gold scarves and wondered which option to take, to ignore them or to make a big deal about the Slytherins trusting them. Either way, they had no choice. To win this fight, he would need every dark witch and wizard using all of their talents. They'd worry about the consequences if they survived.

Voldemort saved him the explanation. The castle rumbled and shook beneath them. A few of the smallest children started crying again as screams and explosive bursts echoed up from the Great Hall.

"He's killing them," Neville breathed.

"No," Draco whispered. "Listen."

Two bursts and a long crackle of lightning accompanied another round of screams .

"It's a duel," Hermione whispered. "Probably against Dumbledore."

"Like he did with me," Harry said. "But he was always scared of Dumbledore. Why would he fight him now?"

"Maybe Dumbledore got free," Ron said.

They listened to the muffled echoes of the duel below them for a moment, none of them saying a word as they imagined the battle. Draco felt the familiar urge to find a dark place to hide, a little hole he could pull in after himself and be safe.

"Draco," Pansy whispered. "What do we do?"

Pansy's question focused everyone's attention on him, even the Gryffindors if only to hear what he'd decide. He met her look, then gazed at the Slytherins withe their brooms, the quidditch team ready to fight and a dozen older students standing with Vincent, ready to transform at his word. The youngest children stood in pairs, doubling up on Ravenclaw brooms, ready to escape while everyone else fought.

"We have to kill the death eaters before they kill us," he said. Turning on his heel, he flipped his besom around and kicked into the air, facing his house. "This is our only chance. They still think we're dead. We fly in, take them by surprise and fly out again. Don't stop for nothing."

"What?" Ron gasped. "You'd leave the Huffle--"

"You want 'em so bad, save 'em yourself!" He watched as Blaise ordered the players into the air and as Vincent took his halfbreeds towards the door. To his surprise, only May rounded up the children. Pansy instead took her place beside Theo. Not that Draco wasted time arguing. He had no doubt that her siren blood would come in handy later.

"Wait!" Harry yelled, mounting his own broom.

"Everyone," Ron shouted to the Gryffindors, "get on your brooms. We'll fly in after them."

"And let them get first shot?" Dean said. "Not bloody likely. We all go in together."

"If you insist," Draco muttered under her breath.

In only a few seconds, both houses hovered side by side, children in the back, fighters in front. Draco tightened his grip on his besom. He didn't want to go downstairs and yet he did, torn by his fear and by his knowledge that his world could very well rest on how well he killed tonight.

"Nice job," Harry whispered as he flew close. "First they wouldn't go 'cause they didn't trust you, now they're flying for the same reason."

As if Draco would still be here if he thought he could convince Harry to escape with him. Draco smiled. Well, if he died tonight, at least he died with one person believing he was better than he really was.

"Harry--"

Draco cut himself off. He couldn't ask Harry not to throw himself into danger or avoid Voldemort or any number of heroic stupidities that could kill him. Useless to even try. Cursing the Gryffindor presence that kept him even touching Harry, he resigned himself to a wan smile.

"Don't get killed," he said.

Harry smiled back. "I won't. Promise."

A sick feeling welled up in Draco's stomach. Likely they would lose sight of each other as they flew. Everything was about to go to hell and all he had was a word and the anxiety twisting him in knots. He turned away and met Vincent's look.

"Follow right after us," he ordered. "Don't fall behind."

Vincent nodded and pushed open the door, then stood back as the entire house of Slytherin flew by him. In the blur of black and green, the handful of students with him altered their shape. No wonder they never revealed themselves before. Numerous broken taboos stood before him, including a troll with too intelligent eyes, a girl with acromantula legs under her robe and black fangs that dripped with poison, and a boy with claws and fangs and fur that proved that some family in the past had found a way to breed themselves with a werewolf.

He gripped his wand as the troll picked him up and put him on its shoulder. He couldn't do anything in his seelie shape, but his mixed blood made him the best suited to lead the tiny troupe that wouldn't have listened to anyone else in these forms. Wands in hand, they followed the rest of their house, jumping over the bodies at the foot of the door.

At the front of the charge, Draco wondered how the Gryffindors reacted to the sight of their crossbreeds. Did they gasp? Freeze? Try to hex them? He stopped wondering as they sped through halls that felt narrow and confined now that they were airborne. Taking them through doors wasn't an option, and he led them around a corner to an archway that led to the main stairway. Like thorns, most of the stairs had been broken in pieces that lay far below, the remaining stumps connected to the floor looked burned.

The castle had probably fought back, he thought. The floors went by in a blur, and he almost didn't blast the Great Hall doors open in time. They exploded back into the room and he angled his broom up to the ceiling, clutching his besom tight as he flew upside down for a few seconds to get a quick view of the battlefield.

The dark lord stood in the middle of the hall, his eyes wide as his mouth froze midspell. Several paces in front of him stood Dumbledore, also stunned into silence. His robes were blackened and torn, and Draco saw that the old wizard's arm was burned to a charred skeleton. He didn't know what had changed, but Voldemort wasn't just dueling, he was winning.

Away from the duel, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students huddled in a corner with several death eaters standing around them, wands drawn. If there were any professors still alive with them, he didn't see. They all looked like a blur of shadows at the taller death eaters' feet, so he aimed at anything standing.

"Caldea!" he yelled, casting a blue light into the eyes of the first Death Eater he spotted. Watching only long enough to make sure that the man's eyes froze and exploded, he relied on his besom to avoid another Slytherin. Dark children filled the air, all of them casting the vicious familiar spells that turned the great hall into a blaze of lights. The Death Eaters, caught off guard, drew their wands too late. As fast as they were, only a few managed to draw in time to aim at the children flying like ravens overhead.

Blood splashed the walls. Bodies fell, some of them with burning holes where their hearts had burst from their chest. Draco spotted the man that he'd blinded on his knees screaming, but his view jerked to the side as his besom twisted around. A green light flashed by and struck the ceiling, leaving a black scorch, but the twist left him vulnerable as a jinx struck the shaft, sending him tumbling out of the air.

He landed hard on a table, but he moved on instinct and rolled towards the wall, using his wand to flip the table on its side and save him from another aveda kedavra. As he ran along the wall, casting an athamia to decapitate a Death Eater in his way, he realized that he could hardly hear himself as he called out spells. Everyone was screaming.

Chancing another look at the fight, he saw that they had been joined by the Gryffindors, although the red scarves seemed clumped around the wandless Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Most of them were hurried out with Gryffindors providing cover, but several of them proved that they'd wisely hid their wands before being taken hostage. To Draco's surprise, Dumbledore also fought, his destroyed hand hidden in his sleeve while he dispatched the remaining Death Eaters.

No, Draco thought, watching the Gryffindors looking around for any more targets. Even the Slytherins lingered, the fight over so fast that they hadn't thought to escape yet, and their halfbreeds gathered at the other end of the hall trying to change back quickly. No, this wasn't right. Where was Voldemort?

He looked, but the other doors were all closed and blocked with broken bits of tables or masonry. Only the main doors stood open. The dark lord couldn't have tried to escape into the flooded dungeons and not even Voldemort would have risked moving alone in a castle that was trying to fight back.

"Draco!" Pansy called out, flying down and landing beside him with a smile. "Can you believe it?"

"No, I can't," he said. He jumped up on one of the only tables still standing and looked out the window.

His heart sank.

Hogsmeade was in flames. The distant red glow against the black landscape and the starless sky looked like a corner of hell had crept up onto the earth. And by the fire's glow he saw the demons, Voldemort's giants and vampires and werewolves and legions of the dark lord's followers, marching over the road and the hills. Had the dark lord summoned them when his plan fell apart? Probably. While he stood there, he felt people climbing up beside him.

"Merlin..." Harry whispered.

Draco looked up. Dumbledore stood on the other side of the table gazing at the approaching army. Suddenly aware of the silence, Draco glanced behind and found everyone staring out as well.

"No doubt the entire wizarding world is at war," Dumbledore whispered. "We cannot expect any help. We are alone."

Draco thought of mentioning his father and his Knights, but even if they were still alive somewhere in the castle, their presence hardly meant anything against Voldemort's army.

"We can't apparate," he said. "And there certainly aren't enough brooms to go around."

"Voldemort's magic has ripped holes in Hogwarts' defenses," Dumbledore said. "Did you meet any of the professors? Anyone?"

"Some," Harry answered. "McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick are dead."

Dumbledore closed his eyes in pain.

"But Severus is still alive," Draco said. "He's with my father somewhere in the castle."

"Lucius is alive?" Putting his grief on hold, Dumbledore took a moment to steady his voice before he could speak normally again. "Are they alone or--?"

"The Knights of Walpurgis are here," Draco said. "I don't know how many are still alive, I don't even know where they are. For all we know, I might be the only one left."

"If Lucius and Severus are together," Dumbledore said, "then they are alive. And the knights are the counterparts of our aurors. I am confident in their ability to fight. I trust if we were to meet that we would fight on the same side, yes?"

"...as long as you didn't fire first," Draco said slowly, increasingly aware that he had been put in the position of negotiating an alliance. "And only until the danger passes."

"Indeed. No more could be asked." Dumbledore stared at the throng of creatures and wizards coming towards Hogwarts, sizing them up like a tired general. "Running is not an option. Even if we all escaped, they would follow us and destroy us."

"How on earth can we fight that?" Draco asked.

"I believe muggles call them combat multipliers," Dumbledore said. "But we will have to work quickly."

Turning and facing the crowd of students gazing up at them, Dumbledore raised his good hand to quiet them. Draco spotted Madame Hooch and Slughorn also in the group, perhaps the only two teachers alive except for Severus.

"My students," the headmaster said, his voice ringing through the bloodied and scorched hall. "Voldemort's army approaches. We have little time to prepare, but this fight is not yet lost. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, you must return to your houses and gather up your wands, then return and join Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"Most of you have studied defensive fortifications. You must lay charms and jinxes upon every window and door of the castle. Strengthen the walls if you can. Gryffindor, take the southern portion. Be careful to stay together and beware of any remaining Death Eaters. Return quickly. Go!"

As one, a flurry of red and gold scarves vanished out of the Great Hall. Draco listened with half an ear as Dumbledore gave directions to the other two houses, but most of his attention focused on gathering his Slytherins to himself. From the corner, Vincent left the other halfbreeds as their representative. Once they were in a tight group beneath him, he knelt and glanced over them for injuries.

"Did we lose anyone?" he asked.

Pansy shook her head. Her eyes were wide and frightened, but not panicked. "Everyone's fine."

"All right, listen. Sounds like we're getting the rear of the castle. Set the nastiest traps you can think of. I'm sure everyone else'll be going for clean kills, but I want you to try for mutilation spells. Get the blood pouring, set the vampires in a frenzy, turn on the giants' blood lust, you know. The more chaos, the better. And see if you can't avoid those Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. I still don't trust them."

"Vincent, tell yours to stay changed. If things get bad, they'll have to blend in and pick off the bastards from the other side, but for now see if that girl can't spin a web." He glanced at Pansy and Daphne. "You two, think you can summon up the water from the dungeons?"

The girls exchanged a look.

"Maybe," Daphne said, but she didn't look at all confident.

"If someone could blast a hole in the floor," Pansy said. "It'd make things a lot simpler."

"I'll get the headmaster to do it," Draco said. "Everyone else, go start on the windows, go!"

Draco didn't bother to watch them leave, too busy heading for Dumbledore. The old wizard looked like he was casting several layers of traps on the main doors that would affect much of the outer castle as well. No doubt the first wave of Voldemort's army would fall immediately, but there were so many after that.

"Can you keep those spells on the outside of the castle?" he asked.

"That's where I'm setting them," Dumbledore answered, not turning from his work. "Did you have something in mind?"

"The water flooding the dungeons, it's spelled to suck in magic, but Pansy and Daphne can summon it up. If it won't destroy your traps, I think they could throw the whole lake at the dark lord."

Dumbledore paused and looked at him. "How can they summon it?"

"They're both part siren." Draco studied his face for any change no matter how slight. Instead of a flinch of disgust, however, Dumbledore smiled broadly.

"Excellent. I assume I will need to add a few holes of my own in the floor, but it's a small price to pay."

Draco turned and spotted Daphne and Pansy standing in the center of the hall, their hands clasped as they sang. Their faces were as white as ice as they concentrated.

"And what will you do?"

"My father is somewhere in Hogwarts," Draco said. "I have to find him."

"Alone?" came a whisper from behind him.

Draco smiled. Even with death marching towards them, the sound of Harry's voice calmed his heart. He felt Harry's hand on his shoulder and turned, taking the opportunity to lean against him.

"Only if you go chasing after the dark lord," Draco whispered.

"He's not here right now," Harry said, sounding like that was the only reason he hadn't left already. "And you seem like you need a bodyguard."

"Always." He accioed his besom and hopped on, relieved when it held steady. The jinx wasn't permanent. "Up for a trip to the library?"

"Only with you." Harry mounted his own broom and wheeled it around toward the door. "See, I said you were brave."

Draco shook his head. "Just too scared to run."

Passing dozens of students on the way, they flew up the empty stairwell and onto the floor containing the library. The sounds of students nervously chatting and casting spells faded to a dull muffle and then to silence. They slowed down and floated quietly, straining to hear the slightest whisper, the rustle of billowing robes. Nothing but the growing roar from outside.

Madame Pince lay in the doorway of the library, crumpled in a bloody heap but surrounded by three charred Death Eaters. Draco tilted his head, impressed. He never thought she could fight.

The narrow shelves made it too risky to fly. Harry and Draco both hopped off their brooms and picked their way across the floor, careful not to slip on the books scattered in all directions. When they came into the main study area, they found a few bodies draped over chairs and dropped haphazardly on the carpet. Black scorchmarks lined the walls and a few of the shelves were still had a few small flames clinging to them. One of the windows had been shattered and the tables lay in a smashed heap.

"What do you think happened?" Harry whispered.

"Death Eaters versus knights," Draco whispered. "Don't see any knights, so maybe they--"

He cut himself off and raised his wand. Although the library was silent again, he knew he'd heard something crinkle, as if someone had stepped on an open book. He took a step back, then silently cursed as Harry moved past him toward the sound. Hoping it was just a mouse or Filch's damn cat, he kept close behind Harry as they eased closer.

The library had never seemed so confined before. Like a tomb, without lights the library shelves loomed over them and every empty row could have been a place to set a dead body to rest. Glad there was no one to see, Draco slipped his arm around Harry's waist. Harry was warm, Harry was taller and stronger and more powerful. But Harry didn't stop even when they heard a book knocked to the floor and the startled hiss that accompanied it.

When in danger, wyverns held absolutely still because the little winged snakes were not stupid enough to go roaming around outside of their safe nooks where dragons and monsters could spot them. Despite every human instinct telling him to run, Draco froze, yanking Harry to a stop with him.

He knew that serpentine hiss, the slow draw of breath and the cold presence of dark magic built up over far too many years. He knew that cautious, deliberate step.

The dark lord had not escaped outside. Voldemort stood on the other side of the shelf, just around the corner.

tbc...

Author's Notes:

1. caldea -- from the Old English ceald, cold