HP&SB: The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 14

Everything was a mess, and I was only hearing about it second-hand.

The castle was impossibly huge, and after not being there for two years, it was incredibly easy to get lost in. I found myself sprinting down halls I had no recollection of, talking to unfamiliar people who knew my face, and searching for those who had scattered from the Room of Requirement since news spread that Snape and the Carrows had been kicked out.

I hadn't found Harry, Hermione, or Ron yet, but I was trying.

"Charlie!" I called over the swarm of moving people, many Order members and fighters who had arrived to take their chance at challenging the Dark Lord. The second-oldest Weasley turned to me, eyebrows raised high.

"What?"

"Have you seen–" I began, trying my best to yell over the fuss when something much louder clouded over us, blocking out my voice and twisting my head into a pain so great my knees gave out. The world flashed in front of me, too bright then too dark, and something cold crept over my back in a quiet hiss, whispered into my ear as my arm burned.

"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me, I do not want to kill you," the Dark Lord hisses, coaxing and quiet, "I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, give me Siri Black, and you shall not be harmed.  They school shall not be touched. Give me Harry Potter, give me Siri Black, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

The world flashed in front of me as I gasped. Charlie kneeled beside me, hands wrapped around my shoulders, keeping me from collapsing completely– he was saying something, something? I let out a hiss, urging the pounding in my head to disappear, the cold that had slipped up my neck, that stung in my arm, and opened my eyes.

"You're not gonna turn me in, right?" I asked– a weak joke. Charlie snorted.

"Merlin's beard, of course not. Don't be daft."

"Then I have to find Harry," I told him, letting out a deep breath. Charlie's eyes were wide, but he nodded.

"I think everyone's at the Great Hall," he told me, and helped me up to my feet. I nodded, trying my best to not look as disoriented as I felt; my head still swam, and when I tried to move my arm, the scar that ran up it ached as if it had been gouged yesterday, instead of seventeen, or even three, years ago. I could feel the pull, the connection that trapped me– a weapon. I pushed it down and moved on, counting every breath I made as we ran through the castle.

One-hundred-fifty breaths later, we arrived.

Whatever had happened in the Great Hall, we had missed it by seconds. Students were flooding the corridor, led by a sniffling Argus Filch, and worse yet, the trio was nowhere in sight. I let out a frustrated huff, running my fingers through my hair– it had fallen out of its braid sometime during my limp-filled running, but I didn't bother to deal with it now. If it got in my way, I'd cut it off; I'd done it before.

"They're in the castle!" The cry didn't come from Charlie or I, but bounced down the hallways. It was punctuated by the sound of shattering glass and a flurry of spells being shot off. Indeed, it seemed to be everywhere– one after another, the echoes arrived, more and more Death Eaters slamming into the castle, more and more Order Members and fighters arriving to stop them. I let out a hiss, jumping as the window we had passed shattered. A Death Eater landed in the hall with his wand already drawn.

"Black!" He snarled, and I grit my teeth.

"Rabastan," I returned, twisting my wand between my fingers.