Chapter 59 - Something Wicked
It had been a stressful two weeks for everyone in the castle as the students returned from holiday and the Quidditch Pitch underwent rapid transformation with dozens of workmen coming and going at all hours of the day and night. When Dumbledore announced that first day back from holiday that any student over the age of sixteen could try out for the National Team, the excitement that had taken over the student population had been palpable.
For Harry, the stress was doubly so. All the Gryffindors wanted him to try out for the team, and no matter how many times he tried to explain how dangerous that would be for everyone involved, there were still many who thought it worth the risk. It was Quidditch after all.
Beyond that, he also found himself trying to read something into everything Severus said to him. Even an innocuous question about how his day had gone left Harry wondering what he might mean - was he genuinely interested or was he just being polite?
He noticed too every time the man casually touched him - as if ever since that kiss his body had become overly sensitized to Severus' presence. And he was more aware now than ever of the sense of magic he could feel emanating from the man - vibrating just beneath the surface of his skin. How easy it would be to become addicted to that sensation, to grow to crave its presence.
While there was no repeat of that kiss, Severus did seem strangely attentive to him and it soothed some raw nerve inside of Harry as it seemed to confirm that Hermione had been right - that Severus had indeed grown fond of him. But for the first time in Harry's life, he found himself dreading the approach of his birthday, dreading the decision that he knew might suddenly be thrust upon him.
The day before the national tryouts, crowds began arriving. Quidditch players from every professional team in the league showed up for the tryouts, drawing with them scores of fans that wanted a chance to see them play. Hogsmeade filled up rapidly, and after that tents began lining the road to Hogwarts. True to his decision, Dumbledore kept everyone out of the castle, refusing admittance to even the famous players who came calling. Only the scores of Aurors who had come to manage crowd-control were allowed inside the castle gates.
Classes continued despite the distraction, the teachers putting in a valiant effort. But many of the teachers were also caught up in the excitement - after all, there were few Wizards or Witches who didn't love Quidditch or who didn't have a favorite team or player. Everyone had bought tickets to the match.
On the day of the tryouts Harry woke with a faint headache as if he'd tossed and turned all night with dark dreams. But of course like always he'd taken his potion before bed and had slept too deeply for that to be true. Nonetheless he felt uneasy, and he decided for once to eat breakfast in their quarters rather than face the chaos of the Great Hall.
Not surprisingly Severus joined him, sitting beside him at a small table that Dobby set up with various breakfast servings. When the fire flared and Sirius and Remus flooed into the room, Severus did not even protest when they sat down at the table and joined them for the meal.
Harry knew all three men were nervous about the day and the security of the event. Harry, like all the students, would be going to the tryouts. The Minister had decided that it would be a great show of national pride for all the students to be present in their House colors, each carrying a British flag. As this event would be covered heavily by both the national and international press, the Minister was taking every chance for a good photo opportunity. And while he could not force Harry to try out for the team - though that had nearly sent the man into a rage - he could insist that all students be present as part of a school activity.
Both Severus and Dumbledore had gotten the Minister to agree to certain security measures - after all the man didn't want to be known as the Minister who'd gotten Harry Potter killed. Harry, along with Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Draco who by mere association would also make good targets to any enemy, would be surrounded by Order members. Severus and Remus would stay at his side at all times, as would Dumbledore and most of the elder Weasleys - Molly who was now several months pregnant would remain home.
Even Sirius had insisted on remaining at Harry's side - he and Remus had been working on his disguise. Deciding that a dog was still too obvious, Remus had perfected the illusion of making Padfoot look like a very large orange cat. As Crookshanks was a well-known figure in Hogwarts, no one would glance twice at an orange cat in Hermione's presence. Still the thought made Harry incredibly nervous. There would be Aurors everywhere. All it would take was one mistake and Sirius would be captured.
"Don't worry so much," Sirius told him at breakfast, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "Nothing is going to happen to me."
"It would be safer if you stayed out of sight," Harry insisted. He glanced over at Remus and Severus wanting both of them to back him up on this statement. Remus, he noticed, looked just as stressed as he did, but Severus' face was as unreadable as usual. Neither man, however, said anything.
"Harry," Sirius sighed. "Nothing is going to keep me from protecting you. If something happens today - if the Death Eaters attack - we'll need all of us there to protect you."
Another glance at Remus and Severus only confirmed to Harry that they felt the same way Sirius did. Despite the risk, they wanted as many people as possible around Harry as they could get. So united in this were the three men that they didn't even bicker amongst themselves that morning, and Harry resigned himself to the situation.
Around noon, the students of Hogwarts began making their way to the newly redesigned Quidditch Pitch, fighting through the mobs of people filling the stands. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Draco, surrounded by their Order guards and several Aurors, were led through a private entrance into the main stands, where they were escorted to a private box at the top of a long staircase which led down through row after row of bleachers and finally down onto the field of the Quidditch Pitch.
Like all Quidditch Pitches this remained an outdoor auditorium, but the stands had been expanded far beyond their original capacity. Twice as tall now, they started at ground level where Harry assumed the cheapest seats were located, and rose high into the air to tall private boxes with far more luxurious seating. Already the place was filled nearly to capacity, thousands of Wizards and Witches shuffling about finding their seats, cheering randomly when they spotted some player joining the others who were already circling in the air on brooms high overhead. The day was perfect - clear skies, crisp breeze - it seemed idyllic.
Seated next to Severus and Remus, a large orange cat resting comfortably on Remus' lap, Harry stared in amazement at the sight before him. Though nothing more than a tryout for the National Team, the crowd reminded him of the Quidditch World Cup he'd attended just before his fourth year. He didn't imagine that the Hogwarts stands would ever again have so many people in them - the stands would look positively empty from now on when they had their school games. The small number of Hogwarts students would barely fill one section of the stands.
"Bit of an overkill," Hermione commented - she was sitting directly behind Harry with Ron and Ginny. Draco, who was sitting in the row below Harry next to Charlie and Arthur Weasley, overheard her statement and turned around.
"It's ridiculous!" he agreed, surprising all of them. Was he actually agreeing with Hermione? "No one is going to be able to hear the crowd cheer when I beat you in our next school game, Potter."
They'd all been treated to a rather spectacular temper tantrum when Severus had informed the blond that he too could not risk trying out for the National Team - that his connection to the Weasley family made it far too dangerous. But eventually he'd calmed down - no doubt allowing himself to be appeased by Charlie's affection. While outwardly the Slytherin boy was still as prickly as ever, he seemed to melt whenever Charlie smiled at him.
Surprisingly, Draco's comment was the first thing anyone had said all day that put Harry at ease - this was normal, this was familiar - Draco Malfoy insulting his Quidditch skills. He grinned down at the Slytherin. "Beat me?" he scoffed. "Since when have you ever beaten me?"
The blond smirked up at him. "I've just been lulling you into a false sense of security. I'm going to kick your ass at the next game. Slytherin is taking the house cup this year."
"Hah!" the voice of Minerva McGonagall surprised all of them. She was seated a few seats to the left, next to Dumbledore, and had been listening in on the conversation. She along with Severus and Dumbledore were the only teachers not sitting with the Hogwarts students. All of them had felt it more prudent for them to remain near Harry. "The house cup is Gryffindor's."
Severus leaned forward in his seat, glancing down the row toward the woman. "Fifty galleons says it's not," he commented, much to Draco's delight.
"You're on!" McGonagall agreed, then glared at Harry. "You're getting me that cup, young man!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Harry nodded quickly, then threw a dirty look at Severus. "You're betting against me?"
He just shrugged. "I'm betting against Gryffindor."
"Hey, that's Galvin Gudgeon from the Chudley Cannons!" Ron exclaimed in excitement, catching all their attention. They all turned to see a blur streak by on a broom. More and more would-be Seekers were entering the Pitch. Soon, despite the potential danger, they were all caught up in the excitement of the event.
Briefly, the Minister stopped by their box with a retinue of Aurors around him as he greeted people with a friendly smile. He asked Harry once again if he'd like to change his mind and give the tryouts a go, only to back down when his words were met with a dozen glares. He excused himself and then headed along the walkway toward his own box nearby. Once there he used a Sonorous spell on himself and welcomed everyone to the event.
There were photographers everywhere and they flashed photo after photo as the Minister spoke - but Harry couldn't help notice how many of those cameras were turned toward him instead of the Minister. He felt Severus move fractionally closer to him until his leg was pressed up against Harry's own, the heat from the man's body reassuring. Harry resisted the impulse to reach over and take hold of the man's hand.
Not knowing what a professional tryout consisted of, Harry was surprised when the rules of the first round were explained to the cheering crowd and all the players. There were over fifty potential Seekers trying out for the National spot. All of them would take to the air, and five hundred snitches would be released at once. The ten players who caught the most snitches would advance to the next round. The event promised to be truly spectacular and utterly chaotic - and Harry regretted deeply the constrains that kept him from being out there in the air flying with the others.
Harry glanced over his shoulder and Ron gave him a sympathetic smile. He nodded his head in agreement. The red-haired boy knew exactly what he must be feeling and the commiseration eased his heart.
The crowd screamed wildly when the snitches were released, and the players who'd been hovering overhead took off like a shot, swooping down into dives to catch the snitches even before they could get much air. Harry spotted Marci Alegar of the Appleby Arrows grab two snitches in one swipe, stuffing them both into her shirt before heading off after several others. And across the pitch Marco Halifax of the Falmouth Falcons was scooping snitches out of the air with his hat. The crowd was cheering their favorite players even as some of the snitches dive-bombed various spectators prompting them to catch one or two of them out of the air.
Swept up in the excitement of the show, Harry was caught off guard when his headache suddenly returned with a vengeance, striking him sharply between the eyes. Beneath the noise of the cheering crowd, his gasp went unheard, and he took a deep breath as he closed his eyes against the pain. For a moment he felt a strong tugging sensation as if he were being yanked away by a portkey, and yet the sensation of the seat beneath him and the warmth of Severus next to him never once faded away, assuring him that he had not gone anywhere. He could still hear the roaring of the crowd around him and the cheering of his friends as various players caught more and more snitches.
Nonetheless he saw something completely different before him, felt thoughts moving through his mind that were not his own. One moment he was watching the Quidditch game, and the next he standing in a cold ice field in Northern Canada, a hundred miles north of Yellowknife.
'Humans, so far way,' the thought drifted through his mind, cold and alien, and this mind focused on the strange sigil he traced upon the ground in the predawn light.
His mind flashed again, and now he was in the middle of a Nebraskan cornfield and there were humans closer, sleeping nearby in several houses. He felt hunger well inside him, but again he turned his mind to the sigil he traced upon the ground.
Then he was in the middle of the Amazon, life teaming around him, the air humid and heavy, and the hunger grew once again for this time he could feel not just humans nearby but Wizards, magic. Again he traced his sigil upon the ground and moved on, crossing over time zones in the blink of an eye.
There was nothing but ice now, down on the bottom of the world, but the sigil still burned hard and bright into the frozen earth where he traced it. And then he was in the middle of the Australian Outback and he could feel life far to the east in Alice Springs where there were both Wizards and Muggles mixed together. His hunger grew again as he swiftly drew his sigil.
There was a human waiting for him in the middle of the forest in Indonesia and the man screamed when he devoured him whole before leaving his mark upon the ground. A swollen river in China and empty grasslands in Russia kept the humans away and his hunger grew greater when he marked the ground, his thoughts on his final destination. There would be Wizards there - as many as he wanted, he'd been promised.
He could smell blood on the ground in Darfur as he left his sigil there, and so much turmoil in the sands of Egypt as he marked the desert. And then he turned his attention north toward the Wizard-populated Europe where his journey at last would end, and his hunger would be sated. Southern France first, and then finally, England where he'd been told he could feed until there were no more bodies to devour.
Harry shook off the strange thoughts filling his head, forced his mind back into the present, into the now where Severus was beside him along with Remus and Sirius and all the others he called family and friends. They were all still watching the Quidditch players and their mad dash for Snitches, utterly unaware of what was coming toward them.
He reached to the right and to the left, blindly groping for Severus' and Remus' hands catching them and squeezing tightly. Both men turned immediately toward him, Sirius, in his cat form, whipping his head around to see what was wrong.
"We have to get everyone out of here," Harry told them, his voice filled with panic, with certainty, with absolutely doom.
"Harry, what is it?" Severus asked immediately.
And then it was too late.
It appeared in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch. There were no wards to keep this thing out for it had walked this earth long before Wizards had even existed. And yet on some deep, horrible, instinctive level, everyone who saw it knew exactly what it was - evil, demonic, some elder god from a long forgotten nightmare.
The creature was as tall as the Quidditch stands themselves, dwarfing even the giants of legend. Its skin was nothing more than dark, moving shadows, making its shape hard to distinguish - though it seemed to have far too many arms and misshapen, flailing tentacles that might have been better suited to the giant squid. But there was no mistaking those glowing red eyes that dripped fire and set alight the grass of the Pitch, or the enormous mouth filled with row upon row of serrated teeth like some primordial shark.
It took only seconds for the cheers of the crowd to turn to screams of terror before people began scrambling from their seats to escape. But there was no suitable place to escape to - for the only way out of the Pitch was downward, and the moment the creature saw movement, it reached out with enormous clawed hands and snatched up four people and stuffed them into its mouth. Rows of serrated teeth crunched down on the screaming, helpless victims and all out panic filled the Pitch.
Aurors rushed forward through the crowd and fired blast after blast of magic at the creature, but the shadowed skin of the monster absorbed the spells with little effect. Eventually their spells all turned bright green as they gave up on firing anything other than the Killing Curse itself -though those too barely phased the creature who was still picking up Wizards and Witches and devouring them whole.
Harry struggled against Severus and Remus who were pulling him up toward the highest point of the box they were in. "We have to do something!" he shouted to them, his eyes fixed on the creature below him and the people dying beneath the crunch of its teeth. The grass beneath the creature was turning red with blood. The stairs down to the field below were the only way out of the box, but Dumbledore and McGonagall had blasted a hole in the back wall and were busy transfiguring a set of stairs to lead them down behind the stands. The screams in the air were nearly deafening.
"Harry, there's nothing we can do!" Remus shouted to him.
"Banish it!" Harry shouted. "It's a demon. Someone must know how to banish it! There are spells to banish demons!"
Remus caught hold of Harry's shoulders when he struggled again. "Harry, that is not just a demon - it's one of the elder demons, one of the old gods. There are no spells to banish it. Only the summoner can send it back. There's nothing we can do!"
"We have to get out of here, Harry," Severus confirmed as he pulled on Harry's arm, tugging him toward the opening Dumbledore had made. Other people in other boxes had seen what Dumbledore was doing - and while some tried to mimic his actions, others instead simply swarmed toward their box intent on escaping down the swiftly transfiguring staircase. The Wards of Hogwarts kept anyone from apparating away.
Cursing, Severus and Remus both stepped forward to make more openings in the back walls - knowing that if there were not more avenues of escape, everyone would be crushed trying to escape down the same stairs. Even Sirius had transformed back into his human form - fear of capture gone in the face of this new terror.
But Harry found himself staring back down at the creature still devouring people below; it was starting to rip into the stands, pulling them apart with its tentacles to better reach the men and women trying to escape. And the children - oh, god! Harry saw the students of Hogwarts trying to escape from their own section the same way they were - blasting holes in the back of the top wall. But the did not have Dumbledore or McGonagall with them - and the other teachers did not have the same skills with transfiguration. The students were trying instead to climb down the scaffolding that held up the stands, desperate to escape. Professor Sprout had managed to get vines to grow up the side of the scaffolding that the students could cling to, and Professor Flitwick was trying to levitate students down to the ground. Already Harry could see people jumping in desperation, only to lie unmoving or mangled upon the ground below.
This couldn't happen. Harry looked for the Aurors - they were still firing Killing Curses. But their spells were having no effect. Many had given up, had turned to escape instead - some few had gathered the Quidditch players and urged them to aid people to escape the stands on their brooms.
Harry did not understand why not one of them tried to banish the creature. There was a spell - he knew a spell - one that was supposed to banish anything. Hermione had taught it to him, though he had never practiced it. After all you could not practice banishing demons without first summoning one. And he knew - just knew - that he could not stand here and do nothing while around him men, women and children died.
He pushed past several large forms - Weasleys he thought - and raced toward the stairs. There was no resistance as he headed downward - after all, everyone else was heading in the opposite direction, climbing over bleachers and chairs as they tried to reach the top of the stands. No one in their right mind was heading down toward the field below. He met no resistance, and only vaguely was aware of voices behind him shouting his name in a panic.
He was beyond terrified now, beyond panic, only one thought burning in his mind. He had to stop this - why was no one stopping this? Why was no one banishing this thing? Screams filled the air, drowning out all other sounds. This was Hogwarts - the Quidditch Pitch where he played his favorite game, where he'd fought Voldemort last year, where the Eye of Odin had exploded in his hands. And for a moment he thought he saw two ravens flying along side him as he raced down those stairs, two ravens leading him forward, cawing encouragement as he set foot upon the grassy field and ran toward the towering creature that was devouring innocent people.
The creature did not even notice him, so intent was it focused on the group of people it was picking off one by one from the section of stands it was tearing apart. Harry raised his wand. Killing Curses were still flashing through the air, absorbing harmlessly into the creature's shadowy skin.
He felt the surge of magic inside him, felt it bubbling up through the ground and into his veins. His body vibrated, but his wand held steady. He raised his voice and shouted. "Exsilium Regalis Numen!"
A blast of blinding white light shot from his wand and struck the creature in the chest. Instantly the thing turned those burning red eyes on Harry, a shriek of rage that shook the earth escaping from its throat. It locked gazes with Harry as that white light enveloped it and Harry felt a terrible force press against his mind as the thing fought back.
Oh, god, he thought as an ancient mind surrounded his, swallowing it whole. And still his wand hand held steady.
When Harry had grabbed hold of Severus' hand and told him they had to get everyone out of there, Severus had felt true fear take over his heart. They had known, or guessed of course, that something might happen this day. But the look on Harry's face had held such terror that Severus wondered if they might have just grossly underestimated the trouble they might face.
A moment later he had his answer. The instant the creature had appeared in the center of the Pitch he knew immediately what it was - knew also that all hope was lost.
He was reminded suddenly of the conversation he'd had with Lucius in January when he'd spoken of the Dark Lord's madness. He had said that this madness was something different, something unspeakable, and Severus now knew exactly what Lucius had seen. There were few things in this world that would truly horrify Lucius Malfoy - but this creature was one of them. This creature, alone and unaided, could destroy the world. To have summoned such a thing - to have unleashed it upon a helpless population - defied all logic. There would be no England to rule when this creature was done with it, and surely even the Dark Lord would understand that basic fact.
Dumbledore, never one to delay when action was needed, gathered them all and blasted a hole in the back of the stands, both he and Minerva using their extraordinary abilities to transfigure stairs that would take them out the back way. Catching on quickly to what they were doing, Bill and the twins opted for a quicker option and set their own magic to transfiguring not stairs but poles for the more nimble members of their group to slide down.
Severus and Remus stayed at Harry's side, Sirius transforming to take up guard position as they realized that they might well have to hold off that creature if it turned its attention toward them. He knew the Killing Curses the Aurors were casting would do no good - but a strong shielding charm might be able to hold the thing back physically - at least for a moment.
And then he heard Harry arguing with Remus, shouting as they both tried to push him upward toward the opening in the wall.
"Harry, there's nothing we can do!" Remus shouted to him.
"Banish it!" Harry shouted. "It's a demon. Someone must know how to banish it! There are spells to banish demons!"
He heard Remus explain the situation to Harry, before he added his own agreement. "We have to get out of here, Harry," he insisted, only to spot the mob of people from the other boxes swarming toward them, having seen the escape route Dumbledore and the others were still making.
"Lupin!" Severus shouted, urging the werewolf to help him make more openings - they'd be crushed beneath the onslaught of people if they didn't so something. The Weasleys' idea of the poles was a good one - the younger Wizards and Witches could easily slide to the ground.
He felt Harry slip from his grasp even as he tried to pull the boy after him upward to the back wall. Turning swiftly, he pushed aside several people as he tried to see where the boy had gone. His heart dropped into his stomach when he spotted him racing down the stairs toward the field below.
"Harry!" he shouted, panic over taking him now. What in Merlin's name was the boy doing? He couldn't be thinking of taking that thing on alone - couldn't possibly believe there was anything at all he could do against it if even Dumbledore had not attempted a single spell?
His shout caught the attention of the others, and they all turned to look toward the fleeing boy. "Harry!" the shout was taken up by more than one person - and Severus could not imagine facing life alone after all this.
It was utter madness, but he raced after the boy, pushing past people still fighting their way to the top of the stands - why did everyone move out of the boy's path, but his was blocked again and again? He couldn't let this happen! Couldn't let Harry face that thing - he refused to let Harry die.
And if Harry did die - then Severus would die too - go down fighting with his last breath. All sense of self-preservation, of rationality, of reason, fled from Severus as he raced after his bond mate - if this madness was what it meant to be a Gryffindor, then he would die a Gryffindor. Judging by the shouts of familiar voices behind him, following on his heels, he suspected he would be dying in good company.
Harry reached the field and was racing across it long before Severus cleared the stairs. It was sheer disbelief that finally stopped Severus in his tracks for he heard clearly the spell the boy cast at the creature. Everyone in the Quidditch Pitch heard the spell - for Harry's voice rose above even the screams of terror, amplified by the waves of magic that exploded from the boy's body.
It was foolishness, madness, pure folly - for that spell was not real. It was nothing more than a child's fairy tale - a Wizarding legend that no one believed in any more. The King's Banishment - a spell that held only a passing footnote in history books these days, because of course it did not work. A spell that was said to have the power to banish anyone, anything from this world.
But only if spoken by the King himself.
When a blast of blinding white light shot from Harry's wand and struck the creature drawing its attention toward the boy, Severus understood everything all too clearly. He knew now what it meant that Harry could use the King's Voice when no one else could. He knew what the royal white stag signified. He knew why sacred capstones danced when Harry touched them, or why the Earth herself obeyed his commands. He knew why the Black Wyrms had bowed to him, and why the proud Vikings of the Winter Land had so gleefully knelt in his presence. He understood it all in that instant.
And just as suddenly he understood that it didn't matter - all that mattered was that the ancient creature had turned its burning gaze upon the Wizard that he loved, and that all it would take would be one swipe from one of those terrible claws and it would all be over. The thing was moving forward, arms raised, tentacles thrashing - poised to strike. The white light of Harry's spell was burning it - filling the shadows inside its skin - but not swiftly enough.
Gripping his own wand tightly in his hand, Severus raced forward, desperate to reach Harry's side. He raised his hand, wand steady. "Protego Maximus!" he shouted, and channeled every ounce of magic he had into the shield that he raised between Harry and the creature.
When the first blow came, a flailing tentacle, it smashed against that shield and sent Severus staggering beneath the effects of the blow. Beside him he heard another voice shouting, "Protego Maximus!" Sirius Black cast his own shield just over Severus' joining his strength to the Slytherin's. The two of them barely held off the next blow that shook the ground.
"Protego Maximus!" a third voice shouted, and this time the strength of the werewolf joined their shield - that magic blending in perfectly with the magic of Sirius, the two men joined on a level Severus could not manage, having never shared a tandem connection before. More bone crushing blows came, shattering against their shields, and Severus feared that even with the two Marauders beside him it would not be enough.
More voice joined them suddenly - Ron Weasley and beside him Hermione Granger, both students unwilling to abandon their friend even in the face of such certain death. And then he heard Arthur Weasley joining his son, and the twins next, their magic also joined on a level only close siblings could manage. Bill and Percy joined a moment later, and then Charlie and Ginny, and Severus spared them all a brief glance to see the row of redheads who stood beside him, all terrified, but brave. . .so brave in the face of this thing.
And then beyond imagining, a new voice joined theirs, one filled with terror, trembling but strong as Draco Malfoy stood beside them, perhaps deciding, like Severus had, that death was better than living alone.
The blows came harder now, faster, and their shields were shaking - all of them together not enough - too disconnected, too separate to hold for long. He heard McGonagall join them, but even her enormous power could not long hold back the crushing blows that rushed down upon them.
And then he heard the voice he had been waiting for - the one Wizard alone who might stand a chance in this battle. Dumbledore stood behind them all and raised his wand. But it was not a shield he cast.
"Iunctum!" he shouted and his spell struck all of them, and to Severus' amazement it joined them all for one brief, brilliant moment, knitting all their magic together into one perfect, unified stream. The separate shields vanished, merging instead into one that flared with life as blow after crushing blow rained down upon them.
United, behind the boy who would save them all, they stood their ground and did not waver.