Sarah took a hearty swig of the wiggenweld potion, though it tasted like overcooked cabbage mixed with mucus.
"Thanks, Penny," she said, letting out a sigh as the feeling returned to her legs and feet.
Penny had already moved on to aid some other injured fighter. The Great Hall had become their safehouse; the gravely injured, if possible, made their way inside for some healing by Madam Pomfrey, Penny, Chiara, and a few other assistants.
Sarah stood as soon as her legs seemed able, and headed back to her job of protecting the entrance. The Death Eaters could not get through. Her muscles ached; they must have been fighting for hours now. The excitement had nearly worn off.
As soon as Sarah stepped through the doors, she saw Jacob fighting off three Death Eaters at once. He was being backed into a corner.
"Can you all manage without me a little longer?" she asked Arthur Weasley, who nodded quickly before firing a spell at Fenrir Greyback.
Sarah fired a spell of her own at the werewolf as the ran across the hall. It was less crowded now, though there was a hazard of tripping over bodies. She'd spotted Borf and another member of his pack drag a couple bodies to the sides, but they'd soon retreated, the bangs and flashes of light too much for them.
"Aiden, please!" Elena yelled. Sarah saw her on the staircase, dueling furiously with her brother. "You don't have to do this!"
"Yes, I do!" Aiden cried, the sound of a desperate man. "I can't fail him again! They'll kill me--or worse!"
Sarah ignored them, running up behind the three Death Eaters that had cornered her brother.
Sarah yelled, "Depulso!" and the Death Eater on her right shot forward, crashing into the wall in front of them.
This distracted the others long enough for Jacob to stun the Death Eater nearest him. Then, at the same time, Sarah disarmed the remaining Death Eater and Jacob hit them with, "Petrificus Totalus!" The Death Eater fell to the floor like a wooden plank.
Sarah rushed over to her brother, who'd been knocked to the ground.
"Where's Barnaby?" she asked, helping him up.
"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," said Jacob rolling his eyes.
He pushed Sarah back to the ground as a jet of purple light soared over their heads. As they clambered back to their feet, they heard an angry voice yell, "YOU!"
The Death Eater Sarah had blasted into a wall rose to her feet, a bit dazed, but her eyes were filled with a malicious purpose. It took Sarah a moment to recognize her. Selene Lee. Barnaby's mother.
"Where's my son?!" she roared, stepping forward to fire a binding spell at them.
Though the same question burned in her very soul, Sarah said nothing, focusing instead on blocking Selene's incessant attacks. She felt Jacob's back against hers; he must have engaged with a foe she could not see.
Sarah and Selene dueled. Somehow, Selene didn't seem nearly as tired as Sarah felt. The older woman fired spells with the speed and fierceness of her son, though her face had twisted into an ugly scowl quite unlike Barnaby's face.
Come on, Sarah thought, as she dodged and fired spells of her own. I won't let you be the one to kill me. She couldn't do that to Barnaby.
But Selene was not to be deterred.
"Avarda Kedavra!"
Sarah, her muscles screaming, was too slow to dodge away. Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side. Sarah felt the jet of light brush her sleeve.
"No! You won't touch my sister!" Jacob yelled.
Selene shrieked in fury, then fired back at Jacob. He blocked her spell and sent out a jet of flames, which Selene just managed to transfigure into bubbles and bat away, though her eyebrows were singed.
Sarah joined in with her brother, and together they pushed Selene back. She stumbled and nearly fell over a bit of railing that had fallen from the grand staircase. The castle was falling apart. Sarah had heard that the northern battlements had been crumbled like a cookie.
"Expelliarmus!"
Selene's want erupted from her hand and flew into Jacob's. He grinned in triumph at his upheld trophy.
Selene growled like a deranged tiger, pulled a knife from a strap at her belt, and chucked it at Jacob.
Sarah's panic enabled her to act. She stepped forward and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" with her wand pointed at Selene.
A ball of green shot from Sarah's wand. It hit Selene in the chest. The dark witch swayed, all the color drained from her body, then she slumped against the railing, and landed on the floor. She wasn't dead--Sarah hadn't done the spell properly--but she was too weak to defend herself or run when a large suit of armor carrying a halberd spotted her and swung its axe down and into her body.
Satisfied, the suit of armor moved on. Sarah stared, horrified by what she'd just witnessed. What she'd just done. Selene clutched at her open gut with one arm, and beckoned Sarah over with the other. Spellbound by the sight of such blood, Sarah obeyed.
She cast the basic healing spells she remembered from school. She wasn't sure why; perhaps she felt guilty about the curse she'd used, or perhaps she just felt no one deserved to die like this. Selene's wounds began to close and she seemed to be breathing a little easier, but Sarah didn't have the skill to undo the damage completely. Selene was dying.
Selene grabbed Sarah's robes and pulled her down to crouch over her. Selene's eyes were dim and distant, like they'd frosted over. When she spoke, it was with great difficulty.
"Where's...my son? I must see..."
"I don't know," Sarah choked, tears threatening to spill out onto Selene's face. "I don't know where he is."
Selene blinked, and a tear ran down her face and to the floor. "I just want to see...one more time." She pulled Sarah close, the last of her strength used to clutch at the young witch's robes. "You must...stop Drystan."
With blood-soaked and shaking hands, she began fumbling with a ring, attempting to remove it. Sarah took it off for her and tried to hand it to her, but Selene shook her head, swallowing hard several times before she could speak again.
"Give it to my son. To Barnaby. Tell him..."
But what she was to tell him, Sarah would never know. Selene clutched Sarah's hands, and tried for a minute or more in vain to speak, then to swallow, then to breathe. All alluded her. Sarah saw the life leave her, saw Selene Lee vanish, leaving a destroyed husk behind.
Sarah pulled her hands, stained with the witch's blood, out of her grip. Unable to look at the body anymore, she stared down at the ring. It was stained red, but Sarah could see that it was beautiful. Like a golden tree branch sprouting fresh blossoms, embedded with rubies and emeralds, and in the center, a diamond. She felt a sharp intake of breath as she realized, with more certainty than she'd had over anything in months, this is mine.
"You have fought valiantly."
Sarah jumped to her feet. Those left standing in the Great Hall ceased battling as the high, cold voice sounded throughout the building once more.
"Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.
"You have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a waste.
"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately."
Several black robed figures snarled, then turned to exit the hall, a few of them limping or bloodstained. No one stopped them. With dismay, Sarah realized there weren't enough fighters left to stop them if they'd wanted.
"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."
Sarah glanced at Selene's dead body then, back to her brother.
But Jacob had disappeared.
*****************
The northern battlements had been breached. In fact, they'd all but come crumbling down. Barnaby felt the stone quaking and groaning beneath his feet as he ran toward the gap in the wall that Death Eaters had begun to pour through like an inky flood.
Tonks and Lupin levitated chunks of stone that had broken off due to the giant's attacks to block the path of the Death Eaters in between defending themselves against curses, but it did little to stem the flow. Barnaby followed them, as well as Tulip, as they jumped down from broken stone to broken stone to take a stand, to defend the gap in the wall.
There was a pause in the tide of Dark Wizards as his spells hit. Barnaby stunned three or four before they could react--they fell, to be trampled on by their comrades. The Death Eaters halted their charge to fire back spells of her own.
Barnaby heard a gleeful cackle and saw a mess of curly, black hair. Bellatrix Lestrange commenced a duel with Tonks. Barnaby knew from her reputation that Bellatrix was one of the greatest duelers of their age. Tonks would certainly hold her own, but she'd need help, and Lupin and Tulip were distracted by other powerful Death Eaters.
Barnaby fought off three Death Eaters who'd spotted him stunning their fellow soldiers. He waded through enemies, knocking them back with blasting jinxes. He winced as he was hit in the back by some kind of stinging jinx, but he continued toward Tonks, painfully slowly.
Flashes of green light lit up her face as they flew mere inches from her. She was not afraid. Her jaw was set in determination, and her eyes held that purposeful glint they'd always had at school when she was up to a bit of mischief.
Then, they were blank.
Barnaby still charged forward, though all the sound seemed to have been sucked from the world. He wanted to catch Tonks before she fell to the ground. As if that would save her, as if the green light had not hit her square in the chest. As if she weren't already dead.
But Tonks hit the stone ground. Bellatrix cackled in delight.
"NO!"
Lupin fired one last spell at the Death Eater he'd been fighting, then abandoned the battle to run to his wife. But the spell missed. Barnaby saw the Death Eater's grin as he pointed his wand at Lupin's back. Barnaby raised his own wand to disarm the man, but he was knocked back by a blasting jinx from some unseen foe.
Another flash of light, and Remus Lupin didn't reach his wife. He fell forward on the ground, his wand bouncing from his hand, as if it knew he'd wouldn't be needing it again.
Tulip screamed in agony. The Death Eater she'd been dueling fell before her, but she'd barely had time to raise her angry, tearful eyes to Bellatrix, to wave her wand in the direction of the witch who'd murdered her best friend, before Bellatrix giggled once more, dancing happily on the spot as the jet of green light hit Tulip in the stomach.
Barnaby didn't see her fall. Bellatrix spun to face him with a little twirl, blocking Tulip from view. She raised her wand. Barnaby couldn't even remember how to cast spells. It was his turn now.
There was another smoky hand at his throat. He nearly passed out as the hand squeezed down, pushing him up and back, dragging him painfully across the the broken stone of the battlement. He fell to his knees once the hand let him go at the top, sucking in a great gulp of air.
"No no, Bellatrix," came his father's voice. "This one is mine to finish."
Barnaby rose to his feet. Drystan stood on the other side of the battlement, the gap in the wall separating them by about twenty feet. Barnaby knew the only reason he wasn't dead was because his father had lifted him out of Bellatrix's reach, but he couldn't bring himself to be grateful. He didn't want to face his father. He wanted to lie down with Tonks and Tulip, to be at peace, to leave a world in which their jokes and laughter would no longer be heard.
Drystan fired a jet of flame toward him, and Barnaby had to fall to his stomach to avoid it. He jumped back up, just in time to cast a shield charm and block his father's next attack. Steeling himself, Barnaby fought back, stone crumbling and falling around them as spells richoceted and struck the floor. Barnaby fought harder than he ever had in his life; but Drystan was skilled, fresh, and not grieving the deaths of close friends. Barnaby backed slowly away as the onslaught of spells continued, finally diving behind a chunk of stone for cover and a second to catch his breath.
"DON'T YOU DARE HIDE FROM ME, BOY!" his father yelled, with as much malice as his master. "The least you can do is face me like a man! Die a buffoon and blood traitor, but not a coward! At least give that to your parents!"
Barnaby peeked around the chunk of stone. His father pointed his wand at himself, then leaped across the twenty foot gap in the stone as if jumping across a puddle. The stone beneath him wobbled dangerously as he landed; the weakened battlements had suffered even more damages as the two had battled. They could crumble completely at any moment.
Drystan righted himself, stood to his full height. Barnaby, cowering behind the stone, saw his father from the perspective he'd been accustomed to as a child--towering over him, his face a calm mask barely concealing his fury. Barnaby remembered his father standing like this, threatening to beat the magic out of him, then to beat him for crying. He remembered him demanding to be told about Sarah and the Order in between bouts of the cruciatus curse. He remembered the boggart standing over him in the vault of fear, a grinning Death Eater that looked very like his father, but was in fact Barnaby himself.
Barnaby felt fear grip his heart, freezing his blood like a dementor would. He felt the emptiness, the understanding that he could never be happy again. He glanced about. There were no dementors nearby--only his father, striding toward him.
Then, Barnaby thought of Tonks's fearless gaze as she'd fought Bellatrix. Of the time she and Tulip had flooded the dungeons with frog spawn, then of the whole gang at the Three Broomsticks that evening, laughing about Snape's spectacular slip and fall onto the slimy dungeon floor.
He took a deep breath, then jumped out from behind the stone, standing nearly toe-to-toe with his father. Their eyes met for an instant.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A bright, bluish-white light erupted from his wand. By the light of the spell, Barnaby saw Drystan roll his eyes before the creature bounded forward and leapt at his face.
"Agh!" yelled Drystan, blinded by the dog's light.
Barnaby had never produced a corporeal patronus before. He'd always imagined it would be something like a kneazle, or maybe a bowtruckle. The dog--he thought perhaps it was a Labrador--jumped around Drystan as he stumbled to the side, unable to see anything but brilliant light. He cast a spell in Barnaby's direction, but it was so off target Barnaby didn't have to do anything to avoid it.
The dog vanished as more blinding light erupted from Barnaby's wand, this time in the form of cord that wrapped around Drystan's arms, binding them tightly. He yelled in pain and outrage, then, his foot slipping off the edge of the battlement, he flung forward on his knees to keep from falling. He raised his wand, but Barnaby had advanced on him, and he kicked it from his father's hand.
"NO!" his father yelled, still blinking madly. "You can't do this to me! How dare you! I'm your--"
"You have fought valiantly."
All sound apart from the groaning stone vanished as Voldemort made this second announcement. Barnaby had to look away from his father, listening with a pounding heart.
"There, you here that?" called Drystan, once Voldemort had ordered the retreat. "You've got to let me go. Fighting's done with!"
Barnaby looked down at his father. Drystan's eyes were still filled with malice, but they looked less foreboding and more pitiable from his position kneeling on the ground.
"What am I going do? You've lost my wand," pleaded Drystan. "Let me up. I've got to get back to the Dark Lord. Back to Selene."
Barnaby stepped closer and bent over his father. Drystan winced.
"Barnaby. Barnaby...please."
Barnaby's wand twitched. His tongue itched to utter a thousand curses, curses he'd learned from his father's constant use of them on him. He raised his wand to his father's face. Drystan Lee trembled. He closed his eyes.
"Vertnum Lepos."
Drystan slumped backwards, overwhelmed by the effects of bewitched sleep. Barnaby swallowed, unsure as to whether to be proud or ashamed of himself. He stepped over his father's body, toward the cascade of rocks that led to the ground floor and Sarah.
"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you."
Barnaby paused, only now realizing that Voldemort was still speaking. The pounding of his heart in his ears had blocked it out.
"You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."
It was perhaps a full minute before Barnaby moved again, weighing the words of Lord Voldemort in his mind, determining their impact. Swearing to himself, he prayed to that Sarah would be alright, then ran the opposite way, toward the Northeast tower and the stairs that would spit him out closer to the Forbidden Forest.
The stone shook and screamed, and with a mighty, crashing crumble, the battlement gave way.
***********
[A/N: Words above in bold are, again, lifted directly from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.]