And so, it begins.

Chapter 9

Harry found it irrational and unnerving that all he could hear through the silence as he and the others waited in the foliage was the resounding thump-thump-thump of his own heart. But even as the beating echoed between the gaps of the leaves, the forest was quiet and chillingly still.

This was, most likely, the calm before the storm.

McGonagall stood behind him, quietly twirling her wand between her fingers; she seemed to be experienced with the motion. She breathed deliberately slow and focused her hard eyes straight ahead at the castle door. She never once lost her grip.

From the corner of both their eyes, a light appeared.

Harry trembled. "Wands at ready."

The flurry of motion was instantaneous and all the hands raising their wands made the leaves rustle noisily, but it went unheard as soul-wracking howls tore at the black sky, making the earth below Harry's feet shudder and the air around his skin shake.

"That's the cue. Remember your positions. Watch for the light—watch."

Then the wolves charged forward, each one snapping their jaws and crying out at the full moon. They ripped their way across the clearing to the castle gates, claws digging out the earth's flesh as they rushed. Harry's fringe shifted as they ran past.

"Watch."

The main gates of Hogwarts opened up, showing the hidden army the line of feral werewolves, all of them silent and controlled under a tentative imperius.

"Don't turn away."

Remus, leading the pack, stormed into the line with a booming roar and he made the first attack, smashing his open paw onto the wet snout of the first enemy he came across, effectively breaking his neck with a grotesque noise and quickly ending his life. The line of werewolves broke, and with it so did the wavering imperius spell. No longer controlled, the beasts retaliated and chaos broke loose.

"Now!!"

With a curse ready on the tips of their tongue, Harry and McGonagall's group surged forward, joining the bloody struggle. They met the small group of Death Eater lackeys that also rushed from behind the castle doors to stop them. Harry stayed behind, not armed with a wand.

"It's win or die," he whispered without remorse. Something behind him shifted rustling the leaves and making familiar clopping noises. A low voice chuckled, "Then we best win."

Harry smirked in response and pulled the spring of his gun.

"There it is," Charlie announced to his small rag-tag group of retrieval ops. He pointed out the sea of red sparks that appeared from over the trees and Bill looked at it with narrowed eyes before turning back to his men with a rugged grin. "Easy job. Let's finish this and go help them out."

His brother returned his look. "You said it."

"It is time."

Fleur turned to her mother in law who nervously hovered around the astronomy tower, wringing her hand together and tearing her lip with her teeth. After a moment of looking around the base of the tower with darting eyes, Molly pulled out her wand and randomly tapped at the bricks. "There was an old spell around here... or so Minerva said."

The blonde French-woman smiled gently and tapped her wand into a subtle niche in the brick pillar. There was a moment of silent nervousness before a solid thud sounded within the tower and a mushroom of dust rose as the bricks moved amongst themselves, forming a line of perfect stairs.

Someone from behind her whistled lowly. "That's... handy."

"We must 'urry," Fleur said, already taking her first step. "Ze children are waiting."

Snape landed in Hogsmeade, stumbling a bit as he did so and found leverage against the moldy, grime-pasted wall of what used to be Hog's Head.

Hogsmeade had been long emptied out due to Potter's loss and the Death Eater's moving into Hogwarts, so Snape nonchalantly walked into an empty house across the street and began to rummage around, looking for a cloak and some potions.

While he scavenged around, Snape came across an old copy of the Daily Prophet. It was from five months ago and the only reason it caught Snape's shifty eyes at all was because of the large picture of a tight-lipped Harry Potter, glaring at nothing.

The Boy Who Lived's Defeat: The Rise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

Snape grabbed the paper by the edges and fell to ground, tired beyond belief. He had lost Lily and he couldn't protect her idiot son either. And even now, as L got involved in something that never should have involved him at all, he could not even hold himself up on his own two feet. How could he be so useless at a time like this?

But Snape, slimy, tricky, surviving Snape, knew adaptation.

Quick, black eyes darted around the room before landing on the curtain rods and a dark smirk spread across dry lips.

"Perfect."

"Fuck!"

Charlie's curse rang down the hall as he neatly dodged a cutting curse, but got nicked on the side by a splinter hex. Without even looking over his shoulder, he sent a quick and rather dark jinx to the Death Eaters chasing after him and his group. He had to bite back a whoop when he heard a shriek of surprise from behind him.

"Security is tighter than we thought," Bill commented from his side, but he was sharing Charlie's excitement even if the others weren't.

"That's what makes it fun!" his brother crowed.

Bill barked a laugh and pointed ahead. "Dumbledore's office!"

The Retrieval Ops valiantly fought off the surrounding Death Eaters while Bill quickly read off a long list of muggle and wizard candies.

"Hurry up, Bill!"

"Cockroach Clusters, Blood Pops, Twizzlers, Hershey's Kisses—"

Charlie dodged a curse and sent a stunner in retaliation. The man on his right fell to the ground, dead. "Shit! Bill!!"

"Sugar Quill, Ice Mice, War Heads, Lemon Drops—"

The gargoyle moved, jumping to the side fluidly and it revealed the hidden passageway to the Headmaster's Office. And for the moment there was complete silence—

—before Order members and Death Eaters alike were scrambling to get into it, but with a few well placed physical attacks and curses from the Weasley-brothers, the Death Eaters were pushed back.

"Good save!" Charlie cried joyfully and Bill mock-bowed. "Thank ye kindly."

As they ran through the opening, the gargoyle jumped back into place behind them and Bill, an experienced curse-breaker, undid the password spell with little difficulty and put a new one in its place.

While his brother did this, Charlie assigned two others to guard duty, ordering them to make sure the passageway was not breached and if something happened to call for them and run. The pair nodded their heads, not minding this job as they were only relieved they survived their initial encounter with the Death Eaters.

After Bill had finished, he and the others who weren't assigned to the passageway walked up the spiraling staircase. Once they entered the office, Bill paused next to the antique mahogany desk to check for traps and when found he broke them efficiently. "It's clean now. Search it."

One of the older wizards jumped to it while Bill went around breaking other spells.

For several long minutes the group searched and searched only to come up with nothing. Time was coming up short and Bill found himself getting panicked and restless. He wondered morbidly what would happen if they never found Dumbledore's will at all; did that mean that this whole plan was just going to go to rot?

Just as his thoughts began to take a dark turn, Charlie called him over, pointing at a teak armoire that was hidden behind a enchanted curtain. "It only shows itself when opened by the hands of light."

Bill scowled at the implications his brother sent his way. He had opened those curtains himself and it showed naught but dust. Just because he was a bit wolfish now didn't mean he had to be insulted by it.

"Check it."

With only a frown and a bit of quick wandwaving, Bill did so and raised an eyebrow afterwards. "It's clean," he announced, which was strange since everything else in the room was very well protected. "Open it."

Only a beat after, Charlie grabbed the simple handles and wrenched the doors open. The brothers paused, not knowing what to do next as their eyes landed on a simple and unassuming vial as well as a single slip of parchment in the midst of nothing else. Bill reached for both, holding them delicately in his scarred hands.

"What is it?" Charlie asked.

"It's... a memory."

The younger Weasley furrowed his brows at the answer, "Do you think it's—"

And whatever Charlie was going to ask was cut off by the sudden sound of an explosion from down below and Bill faintly realized that their time was up.

"Shit!" someone shouted, spelling defenses onto the office door. "What about Grant and Hunter?!"

"What about us?!"

Thinking quickly, Bill shoved the paper and vial into Charlie's lax hand and pushed him towards the window. "Go!!" he ordered but his brother hovered anxiously.

"What about you?!"

"Don't worry about me. Just go! We can't lose this war again!"

And while the remaining others protected the door with all their might and will, Charlie looked Bill in the eye and found only a fiery sort of determination, and his face twisted into a fierce expression of acknowledgment. "... be safe," he whispered in farewell and without a second to lose, he jumped out of the window, transforming into a dragon mid-fall.

Bill watched as Charlie disappeared into the darkness and grinned, baring vicious fangs at the inky sky. "Well then," he rumbled, turning back around and watching as the last defenses on the door fell, "let's get this over with."

And in the distance, Charlie fought to ignore the boom of a breaking door.

There was a moment of terse silence as children looked at the group of Death Eaters that stormed into their room without so much as a knock. Then it was broken when one of the younger girls sobbed and practically buried her face into the ground as she prostrated herself to the dark-robed figures. "Please," she begged, rubbing her hands together above her head, "please don't hurt us..."

Fleur flinched under her white mask and kneeled down, startling the young girl as she got closer. "Shush," she breathed, trying to comfort the girl as well as the other kidnapped students who huddled together in their own, wounded groups. "We will not 'urt you," she promised and lifted the girl back up to her feet.

This confused the children. During their time here the Death Eaters were nothing but cruel and mocking. Begging usually resulted in positive things, like enough pieces of bread for everyone, but this sort of kindness was different and it unnerved the children.

"Who..." the girl gulped, gathering some feeble courage, hoping the Death Eater before her would not hurt her, "who are you?"

Fleur smiled and slowly pulled off her mask, showing the young girl her beautiful face and gentle eyes. "We are 'ere to save you."

The others took Fleur's example and began to take off their own masks. With this motion, some of the children looked up with bright, hopeful eyes as they took in the kind faces and warm grins of each of the Order members. Some recognized one or two of the members and began to climb to their feet weakly. An excited sort of buzz began to rise amongst the children, and one of the boys grabbed his friend and crowed, "We're saved!"

Molly sadly watched the children as they cheered and jumped for joy, tears running down their dirty faces and smiles brightening their entire visage. The image was... heart-breaking. So many children gathered in one place, smothering their glee into each others' arms because they weren't going to die. Because they were going home.

"These poor things..." Molly gasped, wrapping an arm around herself to hold back tears. Fleur looked back at her mother-in-law with gentle eyes. Molly knew for herself that the more children one had, the more children one was able to lose, and Molly had already lost too much.

With a stern look, Fleur put the mask back onto her face and turned to her group, confidence rolling off her waves. "Our first and foremost mission iz to bring ze children to safety. Safety means we must do whatever necessary to avoid direct confrontation. Comprenez-vous?"

She was answered by a cheeky echo of, "Je comprends."

Huffing in mock-anger, Fleur turned back to the children and gave them all a warm smile that they could not see, but instead felt. "Now come. We must be leaving soon."

Harry pressed hard onto the open wound of a damaged wizard, trying to slow the blood flow. "Will he live?"

Madame Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at the dark-haired man and frowned. "Do you doubt me, Mr. Potter?"

"No," Harry answered wisely and quickly. He didn't even bother to correct her on his name and left her to quickly stitch up the man's open wound with practiced zig-zag motions with her wand. The ripped skin slowly twitched and stuck together, stopping the profuse bleeding. "This is just a temporary hold," Pomfrey admitted, and pressed the tip of her wand along the line of the red wound. "Steti."

The man howled in pain as his wound was stapled shut by burning magic. Harry forced him down with everything he had as the wizard bucked and tossed his body around, trying to escape Pomfrey's wand. But the mediwitch continued on without pause, wrapping her hand around the man's sternum she redirected her wand onto the wound again. "Steti."

Harry grimaced as the man fought harder against his grip. It probably wasn't the pain that set him off, but simply the feel of something sharp piercing his skin and entering him that terrified him into a state of sheer panic.

"No more! No more!!" the wizard begged, tears streaming from his eyes, and Harry felt his hold on the man waver.

Pomfrey snapped, grabbing Harry's wrist and shoving his hand back down again. "Keep your hands on him! He's not happy now, but it's what's best!" she barked, muttering the spell again and hardening her resolve as the wounded screamed.

Terrible. This was just terrible.

The quick surgery felt as if it had last hours, but it had only been a quick duration of five minutes. Once Pomfrey finished up with the man, she cleaned him with a spell and moved on, huddling over the next man and doing the same to him. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Harry bit back his own sickness at the sight of Hogwart's matron. Her hands were dyed red with thick, dark blood and her face was one of a warrior. Harry had a close relationship with Madame Pomfrey since he saw the woman so often as a child, and to know that she was as battle-hardened as the rest of the fighters on the field made his heart sink to his stomach. It was just a horrible sight.

And suddenly, an explosion sounded from the war zone, catching both Pomfrey's and Harry's attentions. Their eyes scanned the field but their view was deterred by a screen of smoke that was billowing widely from the ground...

… but there was scream that followed after, sending cold chills of horror and anticipation down Harry's arms and he instinctively clenched his hands into fists, almost as if he was holding his wand in his fingers.

"It's him!!"

"You-know-who!!"

A cackle followed the claims, wild and screeching, and immediately, Harry's scar burned.

"Incendio!"

A jet-stream of fire blew away the smoke and caught onto the leaves and bark of the trees lining the forbidden forest, making them burn black into ashes.

And the flames quickly spread.

The flickering and jolting flames cast an ominous shadow across the courtyard, as if there were a hundred more Death Eaters then there actually were. The effect was breathtaking and Harry realized, in the glow of the fire, Voldemort's eyes were hysterical and giddy.

"Crucio!!"

An order member fell victim to the unforgivable, screaming and clawing at themselves, hoping more pain would make him forget the initial hurt. Voldemort laughed wildly, arms swinging around as he casted curse after curse at anyone without a mask. His robes danced around him with his frenzied movements and he looked like death personified at that moment with his red eyes and black shadows.

Had Harry been more subjected to his emotions as L, he would've been terrified out of his wit. As it was, he simply crouched back down onto the heels of his feet and bit at the skin of his thumb.

Pomfrey looked at him with wide eyes before realizing she was quite busy and instead turned back to her next patient.

McGonagall stood strongly on the field, shouting orders and dodging spells with catlike reflexes. "Keep them at bay! Do not let them over run you!!" she hollered and slashed her wand through the air like a blade. "Protego!"

To her left, Remus knocked down another werewolf and growled ferociously, almost making Harry forget that he had taken his Wolfsbane potion. He barked something to an ally beside him and the she-wolf gave an affirmative with a nod of her snout. She and two others dashed up into the front where the gates of the school were and made to knock them down.

"Confrigo!" a Death Eater casted at the werewolf's back, but the curse bounced off her wiry skin and with her mighty claws, the she-wolf tore down the guarding gates of the castle as easily as knife through butter.

There was a great cheer on the Order's side. Hogwarts had been breached, they were slowly beginning to gain.

But even with this small victory, the difference in their numbers were making itself clear. As much as they tried, the Order could not push forward. They were being swamped by a sea of black cloth and white masks that surrounded them, making them vulnerable on all sides. They had held up well, but if the other groups did not start making their way to the main front, everything would be over before it even began.

Harry decided then that it was time. He looked to the burning trees and caught the glint of metal between the leaves and smiled. So they decided as well...

Although it went unnoticed at first, a Death Eater fell, an arrow sticking out from the back of his unprotected neck. Even as he died, the spells kept flying and the trees kept burning. And another Death Eater caught an arrow through his back, piercing his vitals with deadly accuracy. Then another, another, another...

And before the cluster of dark wizards realized they were under attack by a hidden enemy, their allies were no longer falling one-by-one, but in groups as many arrows came flying out with a shrill whistle from behind the shadows of the forest, hitting their intended targets without mistake.

"Shite!" one of the more vocal Death Eaters cursed. "Protego!" he casted, knocking away an arrow that came for him. "Show yourselves you soddin' cowards!"

The attack paused with this demand and the trees shivered as the hidden figures appeared from behind their protective shadows. Horse hooves clopped against the grassy soil and powerful bodies of men straightened themselves, flexing muscles and fingering the edge of the arrowheads. Centaur after centaur showed themselves outside of the Forbidden Forest barrier, each one of them intent on protecting their homes and driving those who threaten their peace away.

"Jupiter is bright," the same voice from before spoke to Harry who didn't even flinch. Instead, the young man looked up at the fair-haired centaur beside him with a small, knowing smile. "Weren't you banished from your herd?" he asked without much thought on tact, but Firenze didn't seem to mind and only shrugged his shoulders; a very human gesture. "I am not fighting with them; I am simply fighting for myself."

Harry kept his comments to himself and asked instead, "Do you know what made them change their minds?"

"Your words, Jupiter, and the helpful fact that Magorian favors my younger brother Cain," Firenze said in a light tone, as if they were talking over tea and biscuits and not in the middle of an ongoing war that the centaurs involved themselves in, something that was simply unheard of.

Harry chuckled, somewhat flattered. "Will you not join them?"

"I will," Firenze answered, shifting the bow and arrows strapped across his strong chest. "And you, young Potter?"

Harry stared into the open, dark eyes taking in the fire and death calmly. This was his life since he was born; he was raised into who he was to defeat Voldemort. And he ultimately failed.

And died.

"I... think not," Harry answered, curling his fingers into fists to keep them from tracing the scar on his forehead. "For I am a mere muggle named L."

"L," Firenze repeated, tasting the name on his tongue before he shook his heavy head with a whinny snort. "If that is who you wish to be, then so be it." And he stepped out, strong and steady. A creature proclaimed a traitor by his own kind. Harry faintly wondered how a traitor could be so pure.

"Yet, listen to these words, L," Firenze spoke gently, looking over his shoulder at the man on the ground. "There will come a time when you will have to throw away fear in order to protect a greater need. And if fear is the mask you wear, then you must discard it."

"... I don't know what you mean."

The centaur smiled knowingly, blue eyes twinkling. "Is that so?" he asked mysteriously and galloped away.

Harry watched after him, frowning deeply and holding his knees tighter together. Certainly it was not fear that held him back? Harry had no death-wish, but this did not mean he was scared of it. Right? The reason he was here today was because he was being forced into this war that he already once lost. He was not here as Harry Potter but as L, a simple muggle who knew his place and only wanted...

"For Freedom!!"

Freedom.

The centaurs rushed forward and the Order, with a triumphant cheer, followed their lead throwing stunners and hexes and even punches when deemed fit. Even with the centaurs, the Order was still outnumbered by the Death Eaters, but they saw victory and their lives afterwards. A life of simple and unadulterated freedom. This optimistic image drove them forward and pushed the straining Death Eaters back as they were being attacked from both sides.

Voldemort watched from the back, his tilted eyes were narrowed into pinched slits. He had lost his inner circle members in the first war against Potter so his firepower had decreased dramatically, but he had hoped the higher numbers of his men would have covered up that weakness. However, he seethed as he watched each of them drop like useless flies, victim to a spell or an arrow.

"Fools!!" the Dark Lord howled in fury and whipped his wand around over his head. "Don't try to push them back; DESTROY THEM!!"

With this order, as if he was making a point, Voldemort pointed his want at the first Order member that crossed his path of sight and hissed, "Avada Kedavra!"

The jet of green light flew through the air and hit the she-wolf who tore down Hogwarts' doors. The werewolf's cry turned into a shrill scream as the woman turned back into her human form and collapsed onto the ground, her breath and heart stopped.

Harry shot up to his feet, eyes wide and furious. At the corner of his sight, he saw Remus and the other werewolves roar in rage, wrenching out soil and clawing out the barks of the tree.

"Horrible," Pomfrey choked out from behind him. Harry turned to face the mediwitch and watched as she fixed another broken bone with a simple wave of her wand. She was exhausted and Harry could see how her hand shook. "He's a monster."

Harry said nothing to the woman and turned back to the war zone instead and glowered.

Harry Potter was dead, but that did not mean the wizarding world was.

Charlie gasped for breath as he ran through the forest. He had flown a good way over the forest, but didn't want to attract attention to himself by flying right over the battle so he transformed back two miles away from the main gates and ran the rest of the way. He was beginning to get near the edge of the forest, hands wrapped tightly around the vial and the sheet of paper.

He honestly didn't have the time to look at either one, but this was all he had and even if it was just a humongous waste of time he wasn't about to throw them out. This was their only lead.

With panting breaths, Charlie ran the best he could between the trees, ignoring any cuts he obtained from loose branches or otherwise. He needed to get what he had to L—to Harry—to whoever the man really was.

And as he was running, Charlie saw the stumbling figure cloaked in black too late and fell to the ground heavily with a breathless grunt as he ran into someone else. Thinking it was a Death Eater, the red-headed man immediately pulled out his wand and steadied it upon the stranger who groaned and shook out his greasy, black hair—

"Snape?" Charlie called out in confusion and mild horror, even lowering his wand in his shock.

The said-man coughed brokenly into his hand and glared over his shoulder at his former student, his nose scrunched up in what seemed to be disgust at the other man's apparent clumsiness. "Mr. Weasley," he drawled darkly, still heaving for breath. "One would think that after experience with dragons you would try to keep your eyes peeled open at all times to avoid... accidents."

Charlie said nothing and sat for a moment in stunned disbelief, trying to catch his breath. While they were both attempting to slow their racing hearts, Snape's black eyes landed on the items clutched in Charlie's deathly grip and he froze.

Are those...

With his hands on the trees, Snape picked himself back up to his feet and pressed his back against the trunk, looking down at Charlie who couldn't seem to move yet. That was good, Snape decided and pulled out Harry's wand from his back pocket and steadied it on the red-head who watched numbly with round eyes.

"Snape... what do you think you're doing...?" he asked, clutching his precious items closer to him. Even as he sat on the ground, legs trembling and worn, his mind was screaming fervently, 'Move Charlie! Curse him first or run! Run to L—to Harry!!'

Snape sneered and tilted his head thoughtfully to the side. "I would think it's pretty obvious what I'm about to do, Mr. Weasley. But of course, you never very good in theory work."

Charlie grit his teeth and crossed his eyes, quickly raising his wand again. 'To Freedom!'

"STUPEFY!!"

-be continued-

So... who stunned whom?