Chapter 196: Chapter 196: "Halloween Havoc Part - 2"
Meanwhile, blissfully unaware of the danger approaching, the Gryffindor students were making their way back from the feast. Charles walked with Ron and Hermione, while Neville trailed slightly behind, listening to Seamus recount a particularly funny moment from the feast.
"Did you see Nearly Headless Nick's reenactment of his botched beheading?" Seamus laughed, his Irish accent thick with mirth. "Brilliant stuff, that."
They stepped off their moving staircase onto their floor, but before they could move to the corridor, figures emerged from the shadows ahead. The laughter died in their throats as they realized who stood before them.
Bellatrix Lestrange stood in the center, her wild hair framing a face twisted with malice. Flanking her were Rodolphus and Rabastan, their wands already drawn and pointed at the group of students.
"Well, well," Bellatrix cackled, her voice echoing in the suddenly silent corridor. "If it isn't the Boy-Who-Lived, little Longbottom, and some cute little Gryffindors. How convenient."
The students froze, terror etched on their faces. Neville, in particular, paled at the sight of the woman who had tortured his parents into near insanity.
"Now, now, no need to look so frightened," Bellatrix cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "We're just here to... finish an unfinished job." Her eyes fixed on Charles and Neville, a predatory gleam in their depths.
Charles, to his credit, stepped forward, placing himself between the Death Eaters and his friends. Following his lead, Neville stepped forward too, though his legs were visibly shaking. The others remained frozen in fear, their wands forgotten in their pockets.
"I won't let you hurt anyone else, monster," Neville said, his voice trembling but determined.
'Longbottom?' repeated Bellatrix, and a truly evil smile lit her gaunt face. 'Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy.'
Neville was visibly shaking now, a mix of anger and terror battling across his face. Bellatrix's aura of insanity was overwhelming, seeming to fill the corridor with a palpable sense of dread.
Bellatrix raised her wand, aiming at Neville. "I don't have much time, but who says you can't have some fun on the job? I'll let you experience what your parents felt that night. Crucio!"
The curse flew towards Neville, who stood frozen in terror. But before it could connect, a massive slab of concrete materialized in its path, absorbing the spell and crumbling to dust.
Harry Potter stood before the students, his wand raised and a look of grim determination on his face. He had not arrived at the nick of time, as stories often portray. He had been there for a minute or two, using the time to cast protective wards and traps in the area to ensure that the missing Pettigrew could not meddle in his fight with the Lestranges.
Now, although Harry had not completed his preparations, seeing Neville in danger, he had jumped in to save him.
"That's the end of the road for you, Lestranges," Harry said, his voice cold and confident. "It's back to Azkaban for you."
Bellatrix's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing dangerously. "The elder brother is here to save the day. It looks like the rat failed in one of his objectives. No worries, I can finish his job too."
Harry's lip curled in a smirk. "If you were Voldemort, I might be worried. But just you three with second-hand wands? It's better if you surrender. It can help avoid the embarrassment of getting your butts kicked by a 16-year-old boy."
'You dare speak his name?' whispered Bellatrix, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and rage. It seemed she had not heard Harry's mocking words, fixated instead on his casual use of Voldemort's name.
'Yeah,' said Harry, maintaining his confident demeanor. 'Yeah, I've got no problem with saying Vol—'
'Shut your mouth!' Bellatrix shrieked, her face contorted with fury. 'You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare -'
The enraged Bellatrix cast the first spell, a jet of red light shooting from her wand. The two Lestrange brothers, equally furious, followed her lead, their own curses flying towards Harry.
What followed was a duel unlike anything the Hogwarts students had ever witnessed. Spells flew thick and fast, the air crackling with magical energy. The corridor lit up with flashes of various colors as curses, hexes, and charms collided in midair.
The Lestranges, true to their reputation, fought with a savage intensity. Their spells were designed to maim and kill, dark magic that left scorch marks on the walls and floor where they missed their target.
But Harry was more than a match for them. His wand was a blur as he cast shield charms, conjured objects to absorb deadly curses, and returned fire with his own barrage of spells. He was constantly moving, placing himself between the Death Eaters and the students, ensuring no stray curse could reach the terrified onlookers.
Despite facing three opponents, Harry held his ground. All the while, he hoped the professors would arrive soon. With these students around, he couldn't go all out and take out the three Death Eaters. He had to spend some of his strength to protect these bystanders from the Unforgivables. Any mistake could lead to death.
"Run!" Harry shouted over his shoulder, deflecting a Killing Curse with a conjured mirror. "Get to safety!"
But the Gryffindors, true to their house's nature, didn't flee. Instead, they began to fight back, casting whatever spells they knew at the Death Eaters.
"Stay back!" Harry shouted, frustration evident in his voice. "I don't need your help. Get to safety! That way I can go all out without worry."
Their help was hurting him instead of helping. Now he had to be careful of any stray spells from these inexperienced students hitting him or inadvertently shielding the Death Eaters from his attacks.
From the expression of anger on Harry's face, the Gryffindors finally got the message and stopped helping. They decided to run to safety, though Charles and Neville hesitated, clearly torn between fleeing and staying to help.
Rodolphus, seeing the students attempting to escape, snarled, "That won't do."
He was about to cast a large-scale spell to block the fleeing students, but Harry, anticipating this, quickly said, "You're too late. The professors are just a floor below. In a few moments, it's back to Azkaban for you three."
Truth be told, Harry didn't know if the professors were nearby. It was a bluff, a desperate attempt to buy time and protect the escaping students.
But the bluff worked. The Lestranges, aware that Harry had a special map that could see everyone's location in the castle, believed he was telling the truth. They exchanged quick glances, silently communicating their next move. Then, Rabastan made a sharp gesture with his wand.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, an explosion rocked the corridor behind them, sending debris flying and filling the air with dust.
Harry, having learned from the earlier explosion, didn't fall for this distraction. He trusted his wards and traps to slow down Pettigrew, who he suspected was behind him and had caused the explosion.
The Lestranges had turned to run, but Harry wasn't about to let them escape so easily. He sent a barrage of bone-breakers and blasting curses at their retreating forms. The Lestranges blocked some spells, but others found their mark. Despite the pain, the three didn't stop, disappearing around a corner in their desperate bid for freedom.
Harry didn't follow. He could have pursued the Lestranges, but he was worried about the explosion and Pettigrew. If he left here, Pettigrew might go after the students. For their safety, Harry had to stay put.
"Is everyone alright?" he asked, his eyes scanning the group for injuries. The Gryffindors looked shaken but unharmed, staring at Harry with a mixture of awe and gratitude.
Before anyone could answer, the sound of running footsteps announced the arrival of the professors. Dumbledore was in the lead, his usually twinkling eyes now sharp with concern. They came from the Gryffindor tower side and not from downstairs, which struck Harry as odd.
From the other side, more professors arrived at the same time. It looked like Harry's bluff had been true after all. Had the Lestranges waited a minute longer, they could not have escaped. Harry quickly removed the traps he had set earlier.
"Mr. Potter," the Headmaster said, taking in the scene of destruction. "What happened here?"
As Harry explained the situation, he learned why help had been so long in coming. Not only had there been the explosion in the dungeons, but the portrait of the Fat Lady had also been attacked.
"It seems Pettigrew attempted to enter Gryffindor Tower," Lupin explained, his lips pressed into a thin line. "When the Fat Lady refused him entry, he slashed her portrait in a rage."
The realization dawned on Harry. The attack had been carefully planned, with multiple distractions to keep the professors occupied while the Lestranges went after their real targets.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he regarded Harry. "Good job protecting these students, Mr. Potter. It looks like your study under Filius is going well. You will be a force to be reckoned with in the wizarding world."
Harry replied modestly, "I'm not there yet, Professor. My aim is to be strong enough to be in control of my destiny. There's still a long way to reach that goal."
That was a veiled message for Dumbledore, but Harry didn't see any reaction to indicate whether the Headmaster had understood the subtext.
After a visit to the hospital wing to check for injuries, the students were escorted back to their dormitories, including Harry. The corridors were eerily quiet, the usual Halloween cheer replaced by a tense silence as the reality of what had transpired began to sink in.
With a heavy sigh, Harry entered the Ravenclaw tower. He assumed there wouldn't be another direct confrontation with the Death Eaters in the near future because he had hurt them quite badly. They would need a healer to take care of their injuries, which would likely force them into hiding for some time.
As the common room came into view, Harry saw it was full of students, all eyes turning to him as he entered. He knew the night for him was not over yet. With another sigh, he stepped towards them, bracing himself for another round of interrogations. It was moments like these that made him miss the days when he acted in secret. He wouldn't have had to deal with things like this and the aftermath.
Chapter 197: Chapter 197: "Aftermath and Quidditch Storm"
The morning after the Halloween attack, Harry woke feeling refreshed, the adrenaline of the previous night's events having worn off. As he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, he couldn't help but notice the awed looks and hushed whispers that followed him. The attention was even more intense than after his Under-17 Dueling Championship victory or his apprenticeship announcement.
Students from all houses craned their necks to catch a glimpse of him, and conversations hushed as he passed by. Harry understood the reason behind the increased interest – standing one's ground against three of Voldemort's most feared Death Eaters was no small feat. Still, he found the extra attention uncomfortable. It could potentially interfere with his future covert activities, as people would be more likely to notice and remember his movements.
As Harry tried to eat his breakfast amidst the stares, he couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversations around him.
"Did you hear? He fought off all three Lestranges single-handedly!"
"I heard he used wandless magic to protect the other students!"
"Do you think he'll teach us some of those spells?"
Harry sighed inwardly, knowing that the rumors would only grow more exaggerated with time. He was considering leaving early when Professor McGonagall approached him.
"Mr. Potter," she said, her voice low to avoid drawing more attention, "the Aurors are here. They'd like to speak with you about last night's incident."
Harry nodded and followed her out of the Great Hall. As they walked through the corridors, McGonagall informed him of the new security measures.
"The Ministry has added extra protection to Hogwarts," she explained, her Scottish brogue more pronounced in her evident displeasure. "Aurors will now be patrolling the corridors at night, in addition to the Dementors guarding the perimeter."
Harry could sense McGonagall's displeasure at this intrusion into Hogwarts' affairs. For his part, Harry was indifferent to the change – it wouldn't affect his plans. More interestingly, the fact that Aurors were now permitted inside Hogwarts suggested that Dumbledore's influence was waning. Harry couldn't help but feel satisfied at this development.
Upon entering the Headmaster's office, Harry was greeted by a contingent of Aurors. While Sirius was absent, Amelia Bones herself had come to lead the investigation. James Potter, Mad-Eye Moody, and several other Aurors Harry recognized from their visits to Bones Manor were also present. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his usual twinkling eyes serious as he observed the proceedings.
Amelia immediately embraced Harry, her usual professional demeanor momentarily set aside as she checked him for injuries. "I'm so relieved you're safe, Harry," she said, her voice filled with pride. "What you did last night was incredibly brave."
Harry downplayed his actions, conscious of the watching Aurors and Dumbledore. "The Death Eaters were using unfamiliar wands, which slowed their casting. It made it easier to handle them, even outnumbered."
Mad-Eye grunted from the side, his magical eye swiveling to focus on Harry. "Even so, holding off three Death Eaters while protecting other students is no small feat for someone your age. You've got good instincts, Potter."
After Harry modestly accepted the praise, the Aurors asked him to recount the events of the previous night. He provided a detailed account, carefully omitting any mention of the Marauder's Map or his prior knowledge of the attack. He ended with a suggestion, "I managed to hit them with some nasty curses. They might need healing – that could be a lead to follow."
Amelia nodded, making a note on a piece of parchment. "We'll look into that, thank you. Your insight could be valuable in tracking them down."
Mad-Eye then asked if Harry had any ideas for patrolling Hogwarts, mentioning that Sirius had praised Harry's strategic thinking.
Harry thought for a moment before responding "You could station people at the secret entrances to Hogwarts." He turned to James, who had been standing quietly throughout the interview. "Mr. Potter should know the passages Pettigrew might use to enter the castle. Guarding those might at least keep out the Lestranges, even if the rat is harder to stop."
James looked surprised at being addressed directly, but nodded in agreement. "That's... actually a good idea. I'll work with the team to identify and secure those passages."
After some further discussion, Harry was excused. As he was leaving, James stopped him, his hand hovering uncertainly as if he wanted to place it on Harry's shoulder but thought better of it.
"Harry," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude, "thank you for saving Charles's life."
Harry brushed off the thanks, maintaining his emotional distance. "I was just protecting students from Death Eaters. I would have confronted them regardless of who their target was." Without waiting for a response, Harry left, feeling the familiar urge to distance himself from the elder Potters.
In the days that followed, the castle gradually returned to normal. The presence of patrolling Aurors seemed to be effective, as Harry saw no sign of Death Eaters on the Marauder's Map – except, of course, for Snape.
As the fear of intruders began to fade, excitement for the upcoming Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor took center stage. Harry was grateful for the shift in attention away from him and towards the sport, though he still caught people watching him in the corridors and common room.
The morning of the match arrived, bringing with it a palpable excitement that seemed to push aside the gloom of the recent attack. Harry made his way to the Quidditch pitch with his friends, noting the unusually large crowd. He was not here for the match but for the trouble that was due to follow during it. He had his wand at the ready and his mind focused, prepared for the Dementors he knew would make an appearance.
It was supposed to be Gryffindor vs Slytherin as usual, but the weather today was bad with heavy rains and wind. Marcus Flint had played his tricks and changed the match to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The Slytherins clearly didn't want to play in this weather.
"Everyone's eager to see Charles Potter's new Firebolt in action," Roger explained as they found seats in the stands, huddling under umbrellas to shield themselves from the rain. "We want to know how he flies with it to prepare strategies against it."
Harry nodded, his eyes scanning the sky. It looked like the Potters were really spoiling Charles. Maybe the broom was to ensure Charles finally showed his potential on the field and that the Gryffindor house would forgive him for his actions in the previous years. Well, it was working well for now since Charles and the Firebolt were getting the loudest cheers from the Gryffindor stands.
As the teams took to the air, Harry's eyes were drawn to his brother. The weather was bad and the visibility low, but Harry with his heightened sight and senses was able to follow everything that was happening.
Charles, playing Chaser, moved with a grace and speed that was truly impressive. The Firebolt responded to his slightest touch, allowing him to weave through the Hufflepuff defense with ease.
The match was not great. With the winds and low visibility, the players were having difficulty keeping on their brooms, much less scoring goals.
But the teams were adapting slowly as the game went on. Charles, with his superior broom, was handling the weather better. He scored goal after goal, putting his team firmly in the lead. The red and gold section of the stands was in a constant state of celebration, their cheers barely audible over the howling wind.
Harry turned his attention to Susan, who was among the Hufflepuff chasers. She was playing really well, but since she was on a Nimbus and not a Firebolt, she was no match for Charles. Harry remembered that Sirius and Amelia thought she was too young to handle a Firebolt. Even though Susan had played with Harry's Firebolt during the summer, they hadn't gotten her one of her own.
As the game went on and the weather worsened, the crowd was slowly losing sight of the players high in the dark clouds. Suddenly, there was an unnatural chill in the air – the telltale signs of Dementors approaching. Harry reached for his wand, scanning the sky intently.
The weather made it difficult to spot the Dementors, but Harry was able to see the players on their brooms. He could see Charles faltering, signs that he was affected by the Dementors although Harry couldn't see one near Charles. Harry searched for the Dementors, not wanting to interfere in the game without the situation becoming too dangerous. No one had seen the Dementors yet; Harry just knew from the signs.
Before Harry could spot the Dementors, however, he saw Cedric zooming up and catching the golden snitch. The match had ended.
"Hufflepuff wins!" came the announcement. The Hufflepuff stands erupted in cheers, their joy piercing through the gloomy weather.
But the celebration was short-lived. Suddenly, a wave of black-cloaked figures swept onto the pitch.
"Dementors!" someone screamed, and panic exploded through the stands.
The creatures descended in a terrifying swarm, their rattling breaths audible even over the howling wind. The temperature plummeted and all around students were crying out in fear, some collapsing as the Dementors' influence overwhelmed them.
The intensity of the Dementor invasion was higher than what Harry remembered from the books. In the books, only the canon Harry was severely affected by the Dementors. Here, the impact seemed more widespread and devastating.
On the pitch, chaos reigned. Players struggled to control their brooms in the sudden, bone-chilling cold. Harry's eyes darted to Charles, who was visibly faltering, his movements becoming erratic. A Dementor glided towards him, skeletal hands outstretched.
Without hesitation, Harry leapt to his feet, wand raised. "Expecto Patronum!" he roared. The silver Thunderbird erupted from his wand, its wingspan massive and radiant even in the gloom. It soared towards Charles, interposing itself between him and the Dementor.
But the danger was far from over. More Dementors were flooding the pitch, circling players and diving into the stands. Harry saw Cedric, still clutching the Snitch, nearly unseated as a Dementor swooped past him.
Harry's Patronus wheeled in the air, diving and striking at the Dementors. Other silvery shapes joined it - a cat from McGonagall, a phoenix from Dumbledore - as the professors fought back. But the Dementors kept coming, drawn by the fear and excitement of the crowd.
Through the chaos, Harry saw Charles lose his grip on his broom. As if in slow motion, he saw his brother fall. A scream of "Charles!" cut through the din - Lily Potter, her wand out, slowing her son's descent.
The Firebolt hovered in its place, the advanced broom not going out of control and zooming into the Whomping Willow like the broom in the books Harry remembered.
Dumbledore's voice boomed across the stadium, magnified and terrible in its fury. The intensity of his Patronus increased, and Harry too put more power into his Patronus. Gradually, the combined efforts of Harry, Dumbledore, and the other professors drove the Dementors back. As the last of the dark creatures fled, an eerie silence fell over the stadium, broken only by the sound of rain and the occasional sob from the stands.
Dumbledore was visibly furious with what had happened. The crowd could feel his anger from far away, his magical aura palpable even through the rain and wind.
As the stadium cleared and the teams were escorted back to the castle, Harry had no idea what would happen next. The Dementor invasion had been too fierce. Many were affected by their presence and would need time to recover from this experience. Harry hoped that the parents could convince the Minister to remove the Dementors from Hogwarts. This incident had proven just how dangerous their presence truly was.
As Harry made his way back to the castle, his mind raced with the implications of what had just occurred. The timeline was shifting dramatically, with familiar events becoming more intense and dangerous than he remembered. This deviation served as a stark reminder that his knowledge of the future was becoming less reliable. Harry realized he needed to be more vigilant than ever, preparing for the unexpected and adapting his strategies on the fly.
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