Heather crouched silently in her hiding spot behind a tree, senses on high alert as she waited for Riddle and his retinue to arrive. They were fortunate that Dumbledore's grave was located in a part of the grounds that was surrounded by a copse of trees. She was carefully concealing her presence, enough that someone just a foot from her wouldn't sense her if they didn't see her.
She and Bill had set up the wards around the area the day before. It had been taxing to weave the highly-specialised wards over a large enough area, but they had done it.
She had met Hadrian here immediately after Severus left. They were the only ones here because their particular control of magic meant that they were the only ones with a chance of concealing themselves from Riddle's senses. They were responsible for giving the signal for the battle to commence. They couldn't risk having everyone lying here in wait for an ambush. Riddle would sense the gathering of magic from a mile away.
Her thoughts drifted briefly to Severus, wondering if he was okay. Riddle could be capricious at the best of times, and she hated it when Severus had to be anywhere near the madman. She sighed quietly as she thought back to their exchange just half an hour ago.
Just before a war (kind of) was definitely not the best time to be confessing her undying love, but she couldn't have let Severus walk away without letting him know her feelings. Much as she didn't want to think about it, she was well aware that there was a significant chance they would not both make it out alive.
Next to her, Hadrian squeezed her hand, snapping her out of her musings. She shook her head, both at him and herself. This wasn't the time to get distracted.
"Rian?" she whispered, eyes still monitoring their surroundings cautiously. She couldn't see anything yet, but her instincts were pinging at the front of her mind.
"Yeah?"
"Be careful, love you," she muttered quickly.
"Right back at'cha," Hadrian replied cheekily, sounding almost excited.
Typical Gryffindor. She rolled her eyes.
At once, they both pulled their presences deep within themselves, just as Riddle's revolting magic brushed up against their awareness.
He strutted dramatically, dozens of masked figures following after him. She tried not to feel panic at the numbers, having not expected him to bring so many DEs. She had hoped he would be arrogant enough to just take a small group, but she had underestimated his need for an audience. Heather hoped that it was because he wanted his minions to witness him doing whatever he was here for, not that he'd found out about the ambush.
Okay, okay. She had to calm down. There were about 25 Order members and 30 DA recruits which were fifth year and above joining the fight. They didn't have the advantage of numbers any more, but they weren't disadvantaged, either. They probably had an equal number on both sides. So long as the wards held, this wouldn't be a problem.
She and Hadrian waited with bated breath as the group approached Dumbledore's headstone. She carefully didn't react when she found Severus near the helm, standing too close to Riddle for comfort. He was in the direct line of fire should Riddle realise his treachery.
Once they had them where they wanted them, she and Hadrian sent off the signal via their coins. Immediately, the DA and Order members apparated into the confines of the ward, surrounding Riddle and his DEs. This was it. One way in, no way out, not unless the holder of the ward willingly dropped it – or died.
She had argued fiercely with her brother when he had volunteered for the role, but he had only needed one sentence to silence her on the matter.
'I'm already top of their kill list, no need endanger anyone else.'
She found that she couldn't refute that statement.
So yeah, the wards would trap everyone inside it until the battle ended, one way or another. Neither could anyone else enter the fray unless they possessed one of the tokens that had been created especially for this ward. Tokens which were keyed to each individual person and were destroyed after a single use. No back-up DEs for Riddle. Better safe than sorry. And no, Fred and George, it was a suitable level of paranoia thank-you-very-much.
Riddle gave an enraged hiss when several of the masked wizards in the group turned on their fellow DEs, starting the fight. He was furious at the rebellion, but he couldn't have known that the DEs stationed in the school had been captured and replaced by Kingsley and other Order members under Polyjuice.
None of them gave the enemy any chance to catch their breath, launching into attack while they were still off-guard.
Heather jumped into the fight without any delay, wielding spells with and without her wand. If there was any time to reveal her wandless abilities, then it was now. She was overflowing with energy, her magic all-too-eagerly following her commands after months of being stifled by the dark werewolf taint running through her veins.
On the edge of her awareness, she felt Rian's exhilaration as he dealt with his opponents, taking down people twice his size with nary a thought. She didn't share his enthusiasm, but then again, Hadrian had always loved Defence the most. He was in his element here as much as she was in a potions lab.
Immobulus, duck, lunge to the right, Flipendo, Incarcerous, Accio wand, break it, next.
Protego, Glacius Tria, Obscurus, Stupefy, Accio wand, break it, next.
Reducto to three DEs with their backs turned, Locomotor Mortis, Accio wands, break them, next.
It was an endless stream of attack, defend, neutralise. She left a trail of broken wands and tied up Deatheaters as she charged on. The battlefield was chaotic, but she did her best to help where she could. So far, she none of theirs had fallen, but she was on the lookout for when it did happen. She was one of the few who knew healing spells, after all. If she could prevent any casualties on their side, then she would.
She panted lightly, neatly dodging several spells that came from different directions. She had been boxed in on all sides once the DEs realised how quickly she was winning her fights. With a hidden smirk, she grasped a phial attached to her belt and sprayed the neurotoxic potion around herself. The wizards circling her dropped like flies, unconscious, and she was quick to disarm them.
That would teach them to underestimate a potioneer. Battle Potions wasn't a specialty she was particularly interested in, but she had learnt what she could out of necessity.
She turned to the side and was moving before she even caught her breath.
Her jaw clenched tightly as a streak of agony flared across her back. Susan, sprawled on the ground in front of her looked at her with shock and worry. Ignoring the way her body protested, she pivoted on her heel and stunned the witch who had snuck up on the Hufflepuff.
Heather only managed some basic healing for herself before she had to defend against more attacks. She was acutely aware of the blood flowing from still-open wound, but she didn't have any time to cast the counterspell. She gritted her teeth and bore the pain.
When she started feeling dizzy and cold, she knew she had to heal herself or she'd faint from blood loss. With extreme reluctance, she slowly inched towards the peripheries of the battle. When the crowd finally thinned enough for her to take a breather, she chanted the healing spell under her breath. Her voice was weak as it struggled to sing out the words.
"Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur."
This was the first time she had the pleasure of experiencing the vicious severing spell, but she had some vague admiration for Severus for inventing it. It was a real piece of work.
Healing went slowly, in part due to her dwindling focus and another part due to her off-tune incantation. Vulnera Sanentur was unique in that it was a tonal spell. It couldn't be performed wordlessly and it had to be sung in a particular way. It just went to show how strong a spell Sectumsempra was, really.
The slash was about halfway knitted together when her charmed galleon vibrated in a series of pulses. She tensed up at the message, wincing when her back muscles screamed at her. Her gaze immediately whipped towards the centre of the field, where Hadrian and several others were converging on Riddle.
It seemed that they'd gotten the message as well.
Nagini had been destroyed. Now all that was left to do was to deal with Riddle.
By now, the DE ranks had thinned considerably. The DA and Order were dealing with the few remaining, leaving the fight with Riddle to Hadrian, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Moody and Kingsley. Heather couldn't make herself stay to finish up her healing, though she knew she'd be hearing about it later. Gulping down a Blood Replenisher or two, she pressed onwards.
She wasn't going to fight against Riddle herself, no, that wasn't her role here. Instead, she rushed towards the injured and provided first aid. Just enough to keep them stable so they would last until the battle finished up. Hannah, Remus, Neville and a few others were doing the same. Hopefully between all of them, all of their allies would survive.
She caught sight of Fred and George incapacitating the still-standing DEs, and a knot of worry forming when she saw the blood coating Fred's hair. Sirius was rounding up the defeated ones, making sure they were fully restrained. She took stock of all her loved ones. Molly, Arthur, Bill, Daphne, Astoria, Adrian, Cedric. They all seemed well enough, if exhausted and battleworn.
Her heartrate started picking up when her cursory glance around the field lacked one person. Severus. She scanned the place more carefully, not finding the man fighting the DEs, or even among the injured. With trepidation, she glanced towards the intense duel nearer to Dumbledore's grave. Sure enough, the idiot man was there, fighting against Riddle. You know, the man that had a dark magical link to a tattoo on his arm?
Heather bit her lip in frustration as she scolded him in her head. It was simply too risky for Severus to antagonise Riddle at this point. Who knew what the crazed man could do to him through the Dark Mark?
She shook off another wave of dizziness, taking the time to do more self-healing after she made sure everyone else was doing okay. She yearned to jump into the battle against Riddle herself, but she knew her limits. She would only mess things up if she joined them now.
Everyone had their eyes on the fight now. All the DEs were taken care of, and, really, Riddle was backed into a corner. He was proving how he had risen to his position as a Dark Lord, however. His magic was strong – oppressing, almost. He tossed about the darkest of spells like candy, Unforgivables not even the extent of them. The Blood Boiling Curse could kill anyone, after all, and not painlessly like an Avada would.
Her hands twitched at every close shave, magic itching to slam into Riddle even as depleted as it was.
Finally, finally, Riddle made a misstep and fell into the path of an Impedimenta, a Merlin-be-damned third year spell, of all things. It slowed him for only a split second, but it was all it took for everyone to close in on him, focussing their most deadly spells on him.
Even so, the hastily thrown-up shield Riddle cast was enough to keep him alive. At the end of his rope, the man hissed venomously in Parseltongue. Even from this distance, Heather could see how her brother panicked at the words. She was a little too groggy to try and decipher the words, but Hadrian – who had retained his use of Parseltongue – clearly realised it was bad news.
Hadrian threw his magic out violently, not even bothering with specific spells. Despite his best efforts, Riddle managed to complete his incantation before Hadrian's blast of magic practically tore him apart. From the bloody mess of what used to be the Dark Lord Voldemort a huge writhing mass emerged. It was darker than black, almost like it absorbed all the light around it. Heather could feel the evil the thing emitted, even all the way where she was. Everything in her wanted to cringe away from how repulsive it was.
One, two, three...nine heads reared their ugly heads as they released ear-piercing shrieks.
A hydra. Tom Marvolo Riddle had created some sort of shadow hydra creature. Bloody dramatic megalomaniac that he was.
The next few things happened concurrently. Every DE screamed in pain, even those unconscious. Severus clutched his arm, the one with the Dark Mark, and staggered. The hydra reared up and lunged towards Hadrian, the largest head opening its mouth wide.
Heather watched, frozen in horror as the gleaming black fangs closed in on her brother. Everything happened in almost slow motion. Hadrian flinched, prepared to leap backwards when another body flung itself in front of him.
She screamed.
Most of the magic she had left rushed out of her in one fell swoop. She was blinded for a moment before the light coalesced into a tiny ball that slammed into the hydra.
The shadow creature screeched in pain, ripping its fangs from flesh as it shrunk away from the supercharged patronus. Around her, everyone began casting their own patronuses. Animals of various shapes and sizes joined her snidget in the assault.
She paid no heed to all of that. Trembling heavily, she ignored everything to run towards the fallen figure on the floor. Her legs all but collapsed underneath her when she reached, blood soaking her robes when she fell into the rapidly spreading pool of crimson.
Severus' neck was a mangled mess, bleeding in spurts. Arterial spray, the clinical part of her said. There was a cacophony of hisses and sibilant shrieks in the background, but she didn't look around her to find out where it was coming from.
Once again, Heather found herself desperately singing Vulnera Sanentur. It was the strongest healing spell she knew.
Someone was rummaging through her potions belt, but she couldn't summon the energy to care about anything else at the moment.
Blood was coating everything. She couldn't even tell if the bleeding was slowing or not.
"Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur!"
She sang. Her vision grew spotty. She sang. Her throat felt like she'd swallowed broken glass. She sang. And even as she swayed and fell forwards, the last words on her tongue as she blacked out were the desperate syllables of the healing chant.
~~~
Explosions sounded around her, vicious spelllight narrowly missing vital spots. Everything was a mess of violence, fear and adrenaline. Her weary limbs ached with exertion, but she had to keep going, had to continue fighting.
Enemies and allies alike fell to the ground.
Red lifeblood staining the ground like a sacrificial ritual.
Pain, agonising pain shooting up her spine.
Visions of a terrifying creature rising from the depths of hell to wreak destruction.
She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped. She choked on her breath as a person – that precious, stupid man – crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut, neck torn open and gaping crimson.
NO not him, never him, Iloveyou, please NO don't leave me, you can't die, DON'T DIE.
Her magic roared, forcing its last dredges into action. Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, VULNERASANENTUR!
"SEVERUS!" She coughed and spluttered, grasping for something out of reach. Her core was running low, practically empty, but she pulled as much magic as she could, ready to continue the spell. Everything was a blur, she didn't know what was happening, but all she knew was that she couldn't. Stop. Chanting.
She felt herself being shoved down onto a soft surface and she growled, struggling against the hold. Her fingers sparked angrily, but that was the most she could do with her current reserves.
"Hold her still! She needs Calming Potion."
Shaking her head, she clamped her mouth shut. She didn't need any potions! Couldn't they see? Severus needed help.
An uncomfortable heavy feeling filled her stomach in the next moment, and despite her best efforts, she felt her mind slow, her limbs grow lax. She slumped backwards, blinking sluggishly. Her vision finally cleared, and she took note of her surroundings.
The starry night sky adorning the ceiling of the Great Hall greeted her. She was lying on a thick blanket laid out on the ground, one of the many makeshift beds that occupied the large antechamber.
Slowly, her heartrate stabilised as her mind finally caught up with the situation. She grimaced, running a shaking hand along her forehead to wipe away cold sweat.
"Heather, dear, how are you feeling now?"
She turned her head and saw Mrs Weasley kneeling on the ground next to her. The woman's clothes were ripped and singed in places, tokens of the fierce battle they'd just participated in. There were tired dark rings under her eyes and Heather belatedly noted that she was stroking her hair gently.
A few spaces away, Poppy was checking over other injured patients. She must have been the one to administer the potion. Heather made a note to thank the matron for dealing with her crazed episode. Not her best moment.
"Better, Mrs Weasley. Thank you," she sighed. She tried to sit up, but Mrs Weasley placed a surprisingly firm grip on her shoulder to stop her.
Clucking her tongue, the older witch said, "Keep still, Heather. You'll reopen your wound if you continue. Honestly, what were you thinking? You almost bled out you know? I thought you were more sensible than that!"
Heather was abruptly reminded of that slash across her back from Sectumsempra. And that trail of thought led to Severus. The fog that had settled in her mind, courtesy of the Calming Potion, immediately dissipated.
"Severus!" she exclaimed, interrupting Mrs Weasley's well-intentioned rant, "How is he? Is he okay? Where is he?"
The woman gave her a complicated look which she couldn't decipher.
"Severus was on our side all along," Heather explained firmly, "We wouldn't have won without him. He was the one who gave us the information about Riddle coming to Hogwarts. He only killed Dumbledore because the old coot ordered him to!"
"Oh, yes, Hadrian explained all of that already. Never you mind, dear," Mrs Weasley said cryptically, patting her hand, before continuing, "He took quite a hit back there, but fortunately you and Hermione managed to keep him alive until Poppy got to him. He's still out like a Lumos, but he should be out of danger."
The tight mess of anxiety in her chest loosened. She felt tears gather at the corner of her eyes and relieved laughter bubbled up her throat. "Oh, thank Merlin, Morgana, the Founders, whoever!" Once she got a handle on her emotions again, she continued asking, "And everyone else? Is anyone hurt?" Or worse?
Mrs Weasley seemed to understand her real question. "No casualties on our side, thankfully. Though I believe Alastor will be needing another peg leg to match his old one. Most of the injured will be fine with a few weeks of rest. The only ones who are severely wounded are in the hospital wing, under surveillance."
Like Severus.
"Who?"
"Well, Dorcas will have to regrow a few bones," Heather winced, knowing Skelegro wasn't fun at all, "one of the younger boys, Adrian, I think he was, had a heavy blow to his head. And, of course, your Severus."
If Heather had any blood to spare, she was sure her face would be glowing. She made a few weak protests at the words, ignoring Mrs Weasley's curious smile.
"And Hadrian? Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione? We're all fine?"
"I'd say you were a little less than fine, dear," Mrs Weasley said sternly, "But, yes, they're all up and kicking. They're running about somewhere, tying up loose ends. It's like none of you know the meaning of rest at all." She frowned, disgruntled.
Heather smiled briefly before trying to sit up again. She fended off Mrs Weasley's fussing. "I need to see them." She wouldn't stop worrying otherwise.
"The lot of you are going to drive me grey," Mrs Weasley sighed. "Stay put, I'll get them to come here."
Heather didn't know how the woman managed it, but they all arrived within ten minutes. She figured wrangling wayward children came naturally to a mother of seven.
"Heather!"
She suddenly found herself surrounded, wrapped tightly in hugs and scolded in the same breath.
"You idiot harpy! And you nag at us for-"
"-not taking injuries seriously."
"Don't you ever do that again!"
"You should take better care of yourself!"
"Okay, okay!" Heather held up her hands in defeat. "I'm really sorry for worrying you guys! I was a reckless fool, okay?" Changing the subject, she scrutinised her brother and friends carefully. "You're all fine?"
"Well, Forge had to reattach an ear-"
Her eyebrows raised incredulously. "What?"
Fred shrugged. "Eh, Cutting Curse. No big deal."
"Yeah, not like it was Sectumsempra or anything," George added, narrowing his eyes.
With a pout, she turned to the others.
"Nothing some sleep and food can't fix," Hadrian promised, with Ginny nodding.
"Speak for yourself, mate," Ron grimaced, "My ears are still ringing from that sound blast."
"And I'll probably just need a haircut," Hermione said, fingering some burnt strands with amusement.
Heather winced in sympathy for a moment before remembering something. "Oh, yeah, Hermione. Mrs Weasley told me you helped when Severus was injured? Thank you so much for that."
"You're welcome, I just used the potions you had with you, anyway. Plus, you're the one who taught us the Vulnera Sanentur. I'm glad he's okay."
"Still, thank you. I don't what I'd do if-" She cut herself off, fists clenching in the blankets.
"He'll be alright, Heather," Hadrian said, hugging her from the side, "Plus, Kingsley's the interim Minister now, and he knows about the spying. He'll make sure Severus doesn't get punished along with the other DEs."
"Good." She nodded sharply. "He deserves to be recognised for his efforts." The others all gave her looks that made her harrumph and avert their eyes. "What? It's true!"
"Of course," Fred and George said placatingly.
"And you're not biased at all," Ginny added quietly, smirking like a fox.
Heather pretended not to hear, asking for more updates on what had happened after she'd passed out.
So apparently, even an army of patronuses hadn't been able to do more than repel the hydra for a short while. Hadrian had had to morph into his animagus form, freaking out most of the onlookers when they realised he was a basilisk. From what she was hearing, it was an epic battle of serpent king against mythological snake beast. She would definitely be requesting to watch that memory at a later date.
Riddle had no more remains left after everyone was done with him. No one wanted to leave any chance for him to somehow come back. Even after Hadrian's wild magic had pretty much left him in pieces, other people had chipped in to obliterate the chunks. No one would be able to collect his body to resurrect him, that was for sure.
The Deatheaters that had been at the battle were all taken into custody, and so were the ones in Malfoy Manor. Riddle's last spell had been very helpful in that respect. Even some hidden DEs had been identified because of their reaction when it happened.
The students in Hogwarts had remained safely tucked into their dorm rooms, as per the protocol during the previous attack on Hogwarts. Thankfully, none of them were affected during the battle at all. However, some of the had had to be restrained by house elves when it became apparent that they were Marked.
The Ministry, which had been pretty much taken over by Riddle over the past few months was in complete disarray. It was because of that that the Order nominated Kingsley as interim Minister.
And her personal favourite; Mrs Weasley had been the one to take down Bellatrix Lestrange. Her exact words were, according to Ginny, 'Not my daughter, you bitch!' Heather hadn't thought she had it in her – the swearing, not the awesome duelling. She knew how fierce parents could be when in defence of their children.
"So yeah, that's mostly it," Hadrian concluded, still grinning from Ginny's recount of her mother's awesomeness. "You weren't out for barely a day, so not much has happened yet. There's still lots to do, like sweeping up the rest of the DEs and Riddle sympathisers. Though I hope the DMLE will handle most of it, you know, like their jobs require them to?"
"We can only hope," Fred said snippily.
"Merlin knows that we've been doing their jobs for them," George added.
"Well, you are the Man-Who-Conquered," Ron said, pitching his voice higher like he was one of those sycophants.
Hadrian scowled, punching the other boy in the arm.
"Don't tease, Ron. What they're saying about the rest of us isn't much better," Hermione said.
"I can't be bothered about that nonsense right now," Hadrian said. "I'm just glad we're finally done." Her brother looked at her, squeezing her hands tightly. "It's all over now, isn't it?"
Heather laughed breezily, leaning into his steady warmth. If there was one thing those trashy tabloids got right, it was that Hadrian was a boy no more. He had long since grown taller than her, his shoulders had broadened. He could carry his own burdens now. Had probably been able to for a long time. She had just been unwilling to see it.
She sort of missed the days when it was just them two against the world. When he came to her for all his problems, trusting that she would make everything better.
Her brother had grown up, however. He was a man now.
And she knew now that even if she couldn't shelter him from the world anymore, had to let him spread his wings, she would always be his big sister.
"No, Rian," she answered eventually, "it's only just beginning."