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LEGACIES: The Grim by The Dark Lord Nedved
Chapter 27 : The Fall of Harry Potter- Pt I
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 28

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A.N: This chapter is pretty violent, so it is not meant for the soft hearted.

**CHAPTER 27: The Fall of Harry Potter- Pt I**

“Didn’t expect this, did we Albus...” Randalf Ravenclaw grunted. Even though they didn’t think this was possible, the impossible had indeed happened. They were losing. Two hundred and eighty Aurors lives were lost trying to defend Hogwarts, and only himself, Albus Dumbledore, and Jeremy Kingsley were left on the front lawns, defending the castle walls with all of their considerable might.

Jeremy Kingsley’s seventh corporal Patronus charm was fading. His eyes were shut tight, using all of his innate ‘Seeing’ magic to detect his enemies instead of looking directly at the couple hundred Boggarts that, in his mind, represented the rotting corpse of his beloved wife of nearly thirty years. Even with his eyes shut, the image was clear as ever in his mind.


“Remarkable strategy,” Dumbledore panted, his wand blazing unspoken curses as he tried valiantly to destroy the boggarts assuming the shape of his beloved students. The Enflumeri internally combusting second year’s Jacques Leverand look-alike, the Secumseptra curse eviscerating yet even more Romilda Vane duplicates to pile on top of those charming Creevy brothers. All of the dead boggarts and aurors alike were strewn over his school’s front meadows. “Reducto Maxima!” he incanted, destroying a stubbornly difficult Ron Weasley with clinical decisiveness. In particular, the seventh year boggarts were getting dangerous, as each of their personal repertoire of skills was uncannily copied by the magic cloning creatures. “An army of boggarts, taking the shape of whatever we fear most, and assuming their abilities as well- Lestrange has delved himself deep into the dark arts.”

“Good thing none of them turned into Potter or Malfoy…” Randalf declared, secretly grateful that none of them perceived those two young men to incorporate their worst fear.

Or, he should say, to incorporate their worst fear... as yet.

The seventh moon would fall in only two months’ time, and they haven’t made much progress. “Riddickulus!” he screamed, changing on of his dead forefather into a clown. However, the Dementors were sucking away any inclination to laugh, and he watched in frustration as the clown manifested itself into yet another ancient Ravenclaw member. They were getting nowhere, and at this rate, they’ll also be one littered amongst the dead.

“We need to get rid of the Dementors, Albus! And right now, I’m too scared to think up another happy memory! It’s a cursed loop! Reducto!” Randalf screamed, his voice going hoarse after being forced further and further back up the hill for nearly an hour. “The Dementors’ stop us from using the Riddickulus spell, and the Boggarts prevent us from remembering a memory strong enough to produce a proper Patronus charm! What is there to gain by battling here? We should evacuate everyone!”

“Impossible at the moment. The anti transportation wards were reversed by a powerful magi. Nothing can get out,” Dumbledore breathed, his face in grim concentration. How could he have underestimated Lestrange’s genius? “Do not despair- As long as there are those who will risk their lives to protect the students, we must not give up hope. Harry will join us soon, he has never let us down before-“

Jeremy Kingsley used another repulsion hex, sending back another one of his decomposing wives fifty feet away. Even with limbs broken, they resolutely got back up and began screaming after them again, his wife’s shrill voice blazing curses upon their fading shields. He inched back closer to his two companions, their backs to each other as the horde of fear-inducing demons swarmed them from all angles. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. This was something out of his nightmares, not his real life! He resolutely set in his mind that today was the day he will die. It was hopeless.

“Dumbledore, sorry to say this, but there’s no way either Malfoy or Potter can be here in time. We can’t count on them. Who do we have left?” Kingsley said, the depression in his voice directly proportional to the enclosing proximity of the Dementors.

“Those in my staff are the last line of defense inside of the walls. And other than that- ” An idea popped into his head, and Dumbledore’s mind began working once again, using his Occlumens ability to force out the fear out of his mind temporarily. Tearing away his concentration from the demons surrounding him, he formulated a plan. “Wait- Randalf, how can we forget?”

“What?” Randalf looked at Dumbledore as if he had gone senile, then around at the virtual fog consisting of countless Dementors and boggarts swarming closer and closer. Glancing at the dead littering the battlefield, he cursed, his face weary from almost an hour of fighting a losing battle. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly twiddling our thumbs out here-” A dementor swooped in close, but he wasn’t ready to die yet. “Expecto Patronum!” he shouted, and a faint mist in the form of three young kittens* half heartedly shot forth. “Looks like I’m nearly done for- Albus, what do you have in mind? Now will be a lovely time!”

“There are still two particularly gifted members of the Order in the castle-“ Dumbledore said grimly, another mediocre Patronus shooting out of his wand. The bird shot forth valiantly, but was quickly subdued. Dumbledore’s vast recollections of happy moments were coming to a swift end. It was either now or never.

" I’ll have to tell them what to do…”


Remus Lupin was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts alongside the remaining staff members. He could feel the pull of the Dementors, even though the walls of Hogwarts were magically reinforced against Dark magic. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it felt like out there. His Patronus was on it’s third patrol round, each of the staff creating one at timely intervals to make sure that they all kept their head on. His Artic Wolf was climbing all over the house tables, sniffing here and there as if sensing danger nearby. In a few minutes it would be Pooch’s turn. Her gaggle of geese would surely lighten up the morbid feeling creeping into them. He wondered if they could hold out that long.

His thoughts strayed to his fiancé- and the baby that was going to be born anytime now. She was on maternity leave and was resting comfortably at her mother’s home. How he wished he’d live past this day.

To have a son or daughter of his very own…

He’ll send him or her to Hogwarts, where they would learn the ancient ways of magic. And he would be loved, accepted...instead of being feared, and isolated how he was in the beginning.

Before he met James…

He looked over to his right, his gaze falling upon their two youngest members, Ron and Hermione. He had to give them credit. Even though he could see the anxiety on their faces, the both of them still stood proud, strong, their wands at the ready. McGonagall’s Cloak of the Order was now passed down to Hermione, while Moody’s cloak fitted Ron as if it were made for the young man all along. Remus smiled sadly. It was a shame to see them die so young. They were talented individuals in their own right.

They knew what it was to face death, and not give up. Despite their tender years, there were few others he’d rather have at his side in his final battle.

“Remember, the Boggarts would take the shape of our worst fears, and I’m told, have all of their capabilities. Our only hope is to destroy as much Dementors as possible so we’d be able to generate the levity we need to do the Riddickulus spell. Understood?” Remus said weakly, his lack of confidence making the wolf vanish in a mist of soft light.

“Yes, we unde-“ Hermione’s reply was cut off by a desperate touch in her mind.

Hermione! We need you and Ron to help us!

“Professor?” Hermione whispered, her eyes focusing on the far wall for a few seconds. After a curious nudge from Ron, she returned the gesture by giving him a meaningful look. “Ron, we have to go outside and help them.”

“What?” Ron said, watching her as if she had gone mad.

“I will be your ears, your eyes. The numbers are too many Ron, even if we all did try to use our Patronii charms, it wouldn’t be enough to stop them. I will give you a boost. Dumbledore secretly knew what you and Ravenclaw were doing. He says you will have to do ‘it’.”

It ?” Ron exclaimed. Hermione nodded.

“Yes. ‘It.’ ”

A second passed when Ron’s face turned from utter bafflement, to a look of determination. Clenching his eyes shut for a second, he drew fortitude from deep within.

“He’s right. I won’t die like this, I won’t wait in a corner waiting for something miraculous to happen. Come on, let’s make something happen. Let’s go.”

“Wait- you’ll need this,” Hermione took off her Gryffindor scarf and handed it to him. “Cover your eyes. Once you see them, it may be too late. You have to trust me.” Ron took it without hesitation, blindfolding himself tightly. He smiled.

“We’re a team. I believe in you.”

Hermione’s self confidence soared. He trusted her completely, even to the point where he was running into a battlefield completely blind. Taking out the Halo of Life, she took Ron’s hand and led him to the front doors. Hermione paused as the darkness outside threatened to devour the light of the fires inside the hall. With a firm resolve, she guided Ron outside, shutting the huge doors behind them.

Professor, I’m trusting you on this.


Jeremy Kingsley had no more fight in him. With a last ounce of desperation, he incanted his twelfth patronus charm. When it was eventually devoured as did all of the previous attempts, he cried out. Falling to his knees, he passed out from exertion, the haunting images of his wife cursing him over and over his last conscious thought.

“Just us two now, are you sure Granger can help us? It’s hopeless!” Randalf barked, his Protego Charm taking the brunt of another attack from his dead brothers and sisters. Hmph. Lestrange knew how to hit close to home. Damnation of not living up to the Ravenclaw name was his worst fear, an army of dead schoolchildren were Dumbledore’s, and a cross between a living (or dead) wife with incredible Mirage spells were Kingsley’s innate Achilles’ heel.

It was just his luck that these two powerful wizard’s worst fears had to be ridiculously difficult to fend off, not to mention the deceased Ravenclaw heritage line breathing down their necks made this battle a trifle more than the three of them could handle.

Damn Lestrange to hell. So be it. If he had to go down, he’ll go down fighting, he’ll have it no other way….

Suddenly, a bright light began to shine at the base of the steps. He couldn’t hear the incantations, but that power signature was unmistakable. Granger had just performed a very high level of Divine Summoning. He knew she was good, but he had no clue she was this good.

“What’s she doing?” Ravenclaw said. “We need some offensive spells! That can’t help us now!”

“You’re correct. She can’t help us directly, but she can help a certain individual left in your care, who in turn, would turn the tides for us.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but if you’re talking about Weasley, it’s only been five months- he’s nowhere near-” Randalf argued. As if on cue, a powerful voice began an incantation, and the very ground beneath his feet began to shake. Dumbledore smiled, his face heavy with fatigue and crippling fear

“Have… faith Randalf,” he wheezed, his mouth tightening in a grimace. He had to stay alert! “I believe in my students.”


Ronald Weasley sat cross-legged a short distance away from the front steps to the main hall. Dementors and Boggarts began to assault his psyche, but he resolutely ignored them. Hermione would protect him, he knew it. His hands rested on his knees, the Cloak of the Order of the Phoenix billowing restlessly as magic built up from the very ground below. Every muscle tensed in a rudimentary self diagnostic. There was no room for failure. The fate of many rested on him, and even if he should fall on the battlefield, he would not give up.

This is the oath he had taken, and now he must make good on that promise.

Hermione incantations mumbled faster through her slightly parted lips, her hands playing in the night air as her fingers danced along the Halo’s perfect circle, the glowing object coming alive to partake in her Summoning Ritual. Slowly, she levitated four inches off the ground behind her companion, her hood falling from the crown of her head. Her eyes shone a bright white light, and a luminance began to emanate from her skin.

Asi Sali reminascier allerai truvoller Fortemus!

Ron felt a spike of life energy surge through him, and then recede. It was now time. The very air around him became heavy with magic, and pebbles and stray leaved began to fall upwards into the sky. His eyes completely covered, he brought together his hands, beginning a powerful incantation.

From The Depths Of The Ten Tiers Of Magicke…“ Ron began, his brow creasing in concentration.

Randalf froze at the sound, turning his head to look behind him.

Through The Era Of The Ten Centuries Of Drought…

Ravencalw couldn't believe it.

The Call Of The Raven Would Be Heard…

Ravenclaw’s eyes burned, and he felt his lineage’s magic slowly leaving his body. His eyes grew heavy, and he knew his time was near.

From Blood To Blood…” Ron shouted, his magical ability skyrocketing to heights he has never felt before. Down the hill, Randalf Ravenclaw collapsed, his wand falling from his fingers.

Grant Me The Sight Beyond Sight…”

It was done. His task was complete. It was now up to them to finish what he has started.

…And The Strength Beyond STRENGTH !!

The blindfold covering Ron’s eyes was magically released, and his eyes snapped open, a deep purple fire blazing in his eyes.

DEXA RAMNIFERA! ” he screamed, and a bright light shot straight up to the sky.

With him in the epicentre, a ten-sided figure etched itself into the soil, the magical lines glowing purple with an icy cold fire. Both Hermione and Ron remained in the eerily flaming Decagram, their combined magic sending forth a ripple effect through the grounds. In the middle of the Decagram, Ron stood up, his Hogwarts uniform changing into the black magi robes that the Ravenclaw family used to distinguish their bloodline.

Randalf turned over on his back, his wand fading away as he breathed his last. His mouth tightened in a satisfied smile.

“You did good, kid…” he whispered. Dumbledore immediately knelt down at his side, worry etched into hsi features.

“Randalf?” he asked, shaking him “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Goodbye Albus. My work here is done…” and with that, Randalf faded away, leaving nothing but a Ring. Dumbledore looked back up to the castle walls, and the purple fires blazing near the entrance. A strong emotion gripped the center of his chest, and he stood up straight, watching as the man destined to stop the Dark Sons of Magic materialize his full potential. He had never felt such pride in one of his students before.


Sansa Ferri cried out from the cloud covered sky, swooping down with a mighty gust of wind to hover protectively in front of Albus Dumbledore, her wingspan encompassing the entire breath of the Hogwarts Lake. Dumbledore had seen a lot of things in his life, but this was probably the only time he has literally been swept off his feet.

[… you are the phoenix wizard dumbledore, correct...? ] Sansa stated, facing the ghoulish army.

Dumbledore dusted himself off, and greeted the mythical creature. “Yes, I am Albus Dumbledore. I thank you for your assistance.”

[… amazing… he has really done it…] The Bird God mused, her eyes flickering at the wave of Dark creatures swarming the grounds. [ …where did the boy get all of this power…?]

“Mr. Weasley has a very talented ally,” Dumbledore replied, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve only heard legends about you, Sansa. I’m honoured to actually meet you. Randalf has told me precious little.” Sansa Ferri did not need to be told that her previous master had passed on.

[… i grieve alongside you, dumbledore… he was a special wizard…and i was particularly fond of him….ah well….he has passed on the torch of the Ravenclaw heritage… ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the cycle must go on…] Sansa flapped her massive wings powerfully, and shot up higher into the sky. […excuse me while i deal with this…]

In a matter of seconds, Sansa Ferri vanquished all of the undead spirits and boggarts that had no response against an entity so powerful. Her talons ripped at them, her intelligent eyes stopping even the unfeeling Dementors of Azkaban as her paralysis gaze inhibited all movement on the grounds. When she was finished, Sansa circled into the sky and swooped low back to Hogwarts, alighting on the ancient structure with a grace uncommon for something so huge.

She peered down her beak at the two young people looking back up at her, scrutinizing the young man in the Grand Magi Robes of the Ravenclaw family line.

[…very impressive, young master…]

Ronald Weasley looked back up at her, a grim line on his face. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he surveyed the dead Aurors on the ground. He couldn't save them, but at least the students were safe. He had done it. He couldn’t believe it himself, but here was the proof. He had actually summoned Sansa Ferri, well… with Hermione’s help, of course.

“Er..Sansa? I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Hermione Granger. You should be thanking her; she did most of the work,” Ron explained solemnly, pulling the awestruck girl in front of him.

[…greetings, young granger…yes, i sense the ancient magic inside of your weapon…} Sansa paused, her huge eyes surveying them once again. […very strange, this new generation… in particular, you gryffindors are confusing…. the dark magi potter controls slytherin’s shalingini, this young lady wields helga’s life-giving circle…and ronald here can call upon me, the standard of the house of ravenclaw…i have never been more befuddled in almost two millennia…]

“Is.. Harry… really ..a Dark Wizard?” Hermione blurted out, her fears coming to the forefront.

[… his heart was once in the right place…but now it is clouded…his actions cannot be categorized in any other way…i'm sorry..but he is no longer the man you once knew…] She sighed. [...ronald..if you need to see for yourself…I can show you what young potter is doing at this very moment…]

“How?” Ron asked, befuddled. Sansa alighted off the huge parapets of Hogwarts, and landed nimbly on the meadows.

[…do you have an idea where he is now…?]

Hermione had overhead Kingsley talking via floo fire to the Aurors at Durmstrang. She knew where he was. “He’s in Norway.”

[…very well…ronald, look directly into my eye, and i will grant you the sight beyond sight…]

For a few seconds, Ron was captivated as he stared into her huge eye. Then suddenly he was drawn in to a vision, one showing exactly what was happening ni Norway.

“Oh my god…” Ron breathed, horrified.

“What? What is it?” Hermione asked desperately. Ron tore his eyes away from the vision, and took a few steps away, holding his mouth in contemplation. They now had a very serious problem.

“He’s… killing them,” Ron looked dip into Hermione’s eyes, taking her by the shoulders. “Randalf’s right. We have to stop him.”


Surrounded on three sides, one lone wizard was doing what he did best. Covered in blood, nothing else mattered except vanquishing the enemy.


Another green bolt of light shot across his path. They could not hit him so easily. Every attack, every attempt, was telegraphed directly to his muscles, influencing his movements. Before it was even close, he had already spun away, his right arm extended with a vicious horizontal slash at three o'clock. The Killing Curse whizzed past, missing his back by a few feet, and hit one of their own. He retaliated immediately, the blade in his left hand followed fluently with his carousel twirl. It sang through the air, just in range to slit his would be killer in the throat.

31, 32, 33…34…

The right hand followed as he continued another half-revolution, ripping open another’s stomach in the blade's wake.


Jumping high to avoid the Venutia curse coming from five o’clock, he vaulted over the petrified man in front of him, kicking him in the back of his head. The hapless man tumbled, and the huge man-eating fly trap took his life with a sickening Snap !


On his decent, he brought one of the swords down right through the collarbone of the next in line-


Ripping out that blade, he hacked wildly to the left, splitting open the face of another-


Deflected the stunning curse by crossing the two magically impervious blades together in an “X” – then snapped his forearms forward, scissoring off the man’s arm then perforating him through his middle-


Yanking out the hunter’s weapons, he cartwheeled to the right and dove to the ground, four more curses crisscrossing the space he just vacated-

40, 41, 42…

With a precise leg sweep, one man toppled into another, and he helped them to the ground by thrusting the twin weapons upwards, catching the exact centre of their sternums, both dead before they tasted the muddy blood of their comrades.

43, 44..

Diving forward at a shamelessly cowardly group behind those two, the first one in his path was cleanly decapitated as he bounded forward, his magically-enhanced strides eating up the ground en route for the fleeing deserters.


There will be absolutely no quarter.

Embedding one sword deep through the spine, he released his grip on that weapon, and swung the other with both hands, opening up a retreating back with a diagonal flash of steel. Following his downward strike, he spun on his hunches, and threw that weapon at another screaming man as he ran for his life. The deadly toss silenced him as it went cleanly through the back of his neck, the poor soul falling flat on his face, the hilt protruding straight up to the sky.

46, 47…

He calmly strode to both weapons, yanking them out of their victims.

"Who’s next?"

A large arc of space expanded as he strode forward slowly, his enemies retreating as fast as the crowd could back pedal.

"Bring me Lestrange, and I may let you all live."

“NEVER!” a particularly aggressive warrior screamed, stepping forward and drawing his wand. “ AVADA KEDAVRA !

He continued his advance, and with a slight smile, brought his palm up. The spell hit his hand, and slowly fizzled away.

“With a pathetic attempt like that, you do not even deserve to be called a wizard. Allow me-

Harry Potter’s eyes narrowed on his, and they surged brightly.


The man froze for a second, then his eyes rolled back into his head, instantly struck dead on his feet. With unnatural slowness, he toppled over into the mud.

The man closest to the mysteriously killed wizard took one step back, then turned tail and ran back into the horde. His abrupt movement caught his attention, and his eyes followed the scampering coward as he pushed his way deeper and deeper into the crowd. Lifting his hand towards him, he pictured the man’s movement in his minds eyes, and it was done.

He clenched his fingers, as if gripping around an imaginary neck. Lifting his hand high into the sky, the man screamed as he was lifted above for everyone to see- his fingers desperately trying to release the hold on his windpipe. Squeezing, Harry’s hand jerked, and there was an audible pop in the deep silence. With a negligent flick of his wrist, the man was thrown away, falling on top of the rear ranks of Lestrange’s army.

48, 49…

Harry Potter looked up to the sky in the ensuing silence watching in fascination as yet another hail of fiery arrows rained down around him, none missing a target as they apparently homed in on their enemies with unnerving accuracy. Distracted at the glorious sight, someone got a shot in. He only had chance to pivot towards the direction of his attacker as the Reductor Curse hit him directly in his chest. He was blasted towards the direction of the horde, his opponent using a gopher charm to emerge behind him from a hole in the ground. He fell backwards, his magical flak jacket absorbing most of the impact of that curse. Keeping the momentum of his fall, he kicked his legs up as he hit the ground. Throwing his legs and lower body over his neck, he completed the back roll to come smoothly to a crouching position. Two more raced in behind him, trying to seize an opportunity. Standing to his full height, he didn’t even bother to turn towards them.



The next moment he was gone. A heartbeat later, each had a blade entering their spine, impaling them through their chests. He looked at the lone wizard to have landed an attack on him.


You have done well, my friend. I congratulate your skill." Harry sheathed both swords, his hands hanging looslely at his sides. "My name is Solidus De Allesandro Verineas Gryffindor. What are you called?

“Why should I tell you-“ he froze.

I asked a simple question.” Harry said calmly from behind him, the tip of a sword touching the petrified man in his back. “No need for back-talk.

With a smooth motion he fell, his life gone before he could feel the blade puncture his heart.

Harry Potter watched this man fall, his face devoid of expression. The burning flesh raked his nostrils, the decimated masses screaming in agony. Fire raged uncontrolled over the corpses, arrows sticking into the ground like tall reeds. He was only one man against hundreds, but he was not afraid.

Death could not take him.

He knew that now.

He was sent on this earth as an avenger, and Lestrange would pay for making him kill one of his best friends.


The ministry forces had advanced steadily, their artillery fire arcing harmlessly over their heads as they advanced in a steady rhythm. When Draco’s foot touched the first arrow signaling the artillery range, he stopped, and so did everyone else. He put his right palm in the air.

“CEASE FIRE!” Draco commanded. Rebecca Lestrange felt sick, her nose burning from smelling all of the bloody corpses that was once the front ranks of the enemy’s legions. They were forced back, most moving out of the artillery range, or Potter’s reach, she didn’t know which. Rows and rows of the dead lay there in the hellish blaze, the fallen bodies in higher concentration on the ground in Harry's wake. The heat and smoke made her eyes tear up, and she began to cough as the pungent air bombarded her senses. “SHIELDS!”

The first rank pointed their wands at a common central spot in front of them, and they all cast the spell simultaneously.


In front of Draco, the air seemed to flicker. The multiple force shield was up, giving their front ranks a strong protection.

“Take aim!” he shouted, crouching on one knee. There was a sound of all the second row and third rows raising their weapons up to eye level.” On my command, the Reductor curse! 1-2...FIRE!”

A hundred bolts of magic sped towards the retreating army, those who were not properly guarded were most like suffering crippling injuries and even direct loss of life if hit in the head. Harry Potter just stood there, waiting for anyone else to dare challenge him as a hail of destructive magic rained unto the enemy ranks.

..Good..good..young Malfoy. I have been watching you all this while. It pleases me that your heart no longer holds weakness towards an enemy. Now, kill him now while you have the chance..

No way. I am strong enough yet. I will be killed in his stead.

..Coward! This may be the best chance you will get!

This is not the time. I will do so eventually, but I need to keep Lestrange alive. I will have the secret to this curse!

..Fool. You will regret not listening to me...


Harry stood there in the fires by his lonesome, a wide arc of dead bodies littering the ground at his feet. “What are you waiting for, Lestrange? Send me your strongest, so that I can give them death.

Lestrange’s forces hastily put up a similar force field, their army scrambling to get back some sort of position as the second hail of Reductor Curses burned past, the searing magic lacing down from behind him.

“You have put on quite the show,” a voice congratulated him. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he searched for the owner of that voice. Rodulphus Lestrange strode forward, two hooded figures flanking him. There was a bright smile on his face as he surveyed his enemy. “It wouldn’t be a party if young Potter here doesn’t show up eh?” Rodulphus Lestrange clasped his hand in glee. “So much death, such power, yes yes...we know of all of this...the ‘chosen one’...the ‘hero’ of wizardkind…yes, yes...very impressive..” he mused, looking at the dead littering all around him. “ You have surpassed even my worst nightmares, my dear friend. I never thought there would be another who had a potential for killing as close as Tom’s, but I have assumed wrong.”

Are you ready to face me? ” Harry interjected, his stance changing.

“No, no, got it all wrong!” Rodulphus laughed. The Ministry forces watched the ensuing confrontation with more fear and mistrust than anything else, the hacked up bodies proving a sight too sickly for some of the greener troops. In the momentary silence, there moans and cries of the wounded drifted along the smoky air, cries of the dying leaving an unforgettable recording deep into their psyche. “You asked for my strongest...and I should be careful what you ask for.”

Two hooded men stepped to the forefront, and Harry tensed. There was some very disturbing dark and powerful magic emanating from them….

“Allow me to introduce the two strongest from my generation-“

The man on his right stepped forward, and Harry had to stare hard at his face to acutally believe it.

“This man needs no introduction. Auror Frank Longbottom, miraculously cured of his insanity,” he laughed in his private self joke, clapping his hands once- “and now my own personal Heir of Gryffindor. Ah, what a couple decades could do eh, Frankie? He never knew it, but now that he know what I mean...the true heir, that is….” he giggled as Frank Longbottom saluted Harry.

“Aye Ralphie. I remember you vaguely, Harry. Funny, I thought you would be taller,” Frank commented, his eyes revealing a power that Harry knew could be a lot of trouble if it was what he thought it was. He didn't have to wait long to have his fears confirmed.

Frank waved his wand with a complex spell, his eyes glowing even brighter than Harry’s. He stabbed his wand into the earth, light beginning to emit from where the point sunk in the soft mud.

Leone Patronum!” he said calmly, his wand emitting a tremendous blinding light. From all directions there was a deafening roar, and a massive figure came racing in from the horizon.

The Lion Of Gryffindor raced in at tremendous speed, it’s four-storey tall body charging powerfully through the army, sending bodies flying as it massive paws trampled or flung away those in it’s path. Harry took a step back as bodies began to rain around him as it rampaged through Lestrange's ranks, leaving a trail of crushed and mangled bodies in its wake. It prowled to a stop right behind Frank Longbottom, pacing from left to right. The hide was of a dark tan colour, while the massive mane was a deep, earthy brown. The claws on the eight-foot high toes digging up the earth in a four-hole pattern. Other than it’s tremendous size, the one distinctive feature that proved this was no ordinary Lion was a huge ball of fire on the end of its tail.

Both armies retreated by a good amargin, giving the massive animal a wide berth. Only the four combatants stood in the centre, the huge lion presiding over this very exclusive meeting. The Lion of Gryffindor studied Harry diligently, his massive head looming high over the battlefield. With an almost human-like gesture, his black eyes narrowed in on his with unsaid recognition.

“Beautiful! And on my left,” Lestrange gesticulated, and the second hooded figure stepped forward. “An animagus of exquisite skill- his lucky streak only matched by my own. The Felix Omnimentia is quite strong in his bloodline, but you know that already, don’t you Harry-boy? I’m so proud of myself. An experiment I’ve been working very hard on ever since I found Tom’s Inferius research…” he chuckled. He had waited a long time to see this.
" With a few, um..minor modifications on Tom's stuff, I've amassed this army, which also allowed me to have yet another v.i.p. in our little shindig.."

The other man pulled back his hood, and Harry was taken back, his eyes returning to normal immediately as his heart began to double in speed. The face was eaten and pock-mocked with rot, the grey tone on his skin could only indicate one thing- he was ressurected from the dead. Harry’s head began to swim, and he felt faint. No…

“Oh, we wanted him dead for a long time, but his Lucky streak was too powerful. Only when you were born and his inherited ability weakened, was Tom able to do it. Allow me to introduce James Potter, one of the most powerful wizards of my time- and now back from the dead with the help of my tender, loving care. Have fun boys!”

And with a farewell wave, he faded away into a fine mist, leaving both parties in a state of shock. James stepped forward arrogantly, his smile a mirror image of Harry’s very own.

“Hello, my son. Are you ready to join your mother and I ?”


A.N.- The * means I got the idea for Randalf's patronus from Steve34 amazing "Hogwarts: A History" fic. Rowena's younger sister patronus charm was kittens. It's just a small way of saying " Hey man, great story." Respect.

a.n.2 - liked the cliffie? *evil laugh*

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