Chapter 230 : Guerrilla
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The fake galleon flickered with gold light, and a message appeared on the surface of the coin. “Harry’s here. Come fight. Go to Hogs Head Pub directly.” Colin Creevey looked around his room that he shared with his brother Dennis; it was littered with old editions of The Quibbler and The Daily Prophet, as well as moving pictures and red and gold banners that spelled “Gryffindor” and had a lion emblem. It was late at night, and Dennis was snoring softly. Quietly, Colin opened the drawer and clasped his hand over his wand and some galleons.
He slipped on his trainers and he took some dusty robes from his wardrobe. After shrugging them on he placed his beloved camera in his pocket before turning back to the sleeping figure of Dennis. After taking a quill, he dipped it in ink and hurriedly wrote a note to his brother explaining where he was going.
He opened the only window in the room, and the wood scraped as he did so. Fortunately Dennis remained asleep as Colin landed with a thud on the grass. After closing the window, he took several strides to the sidewalk. He held out his wand, and immediately a triple-decker bus appeared, screeching to a halt.
Colin, nodding at the conductor Stan Shunpike, (“Al’right son? ‘Ow old is you? You right small for 16. Why you not in school? Where you ‘eaded?” he said) and taking a seat on the bed closest to the door. As the bus violently began to move the insecure bed was thrown back, slamming against a dozen others, all of which were empty.
After a stomach-lurching ride, Colin finally stumbled off the bus and straight into the Leaky Cauldron, the only place he knew would be safe to floo from. He lifted the hood on his robes over his head, despite the fact that there wasn’t the slightest chance of him being recognised. Walking over to the fireplace, the boy noticed that no one was in the bar. The old barman hobbled over to him and hissed, “What do you think you’re doing?”
After explaining that he needed to floo to the Hogs Head Pub, and receiving warning that there was a curfew over Hogsmeade Colin finally stood in the fireplace, throwing down the green powder he had paid a couple of sickles for.
Greeted by a tall, gruff man Colin knew to be Aberforth, the owner of the Hogs Head Inn, he was told to go upstairs, where he saw the tunnel. He hurried through, not noticing the flickering lamps or the narrowness of the path. Finally, he climbed out of the hole and was greeted by several familiar faces he hadn’t seen since the year before.
Colin stood, raising his wand and pointing it at Pansy Parkinson. Everyone around him followed suit, and the three houses of Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw united, threatening the cunning students of Slytherin. Even though she was sure to have associated with the Dark Lord’s servants, Pansy was terrified of what would happen if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named paid a visit to the Hogwarts. Harry Potter was in the school, and almost everyone with half a brain knew that the Dark Lord was after The-Boy-Who-Lived.
Professor McGonagall, who took charge of the situation, demanded the students of the House of Slytherin to leave the Great Hall. The scraping on chairs and padding of slippered feet echoed throughout chamber, and the other students watched with fierce expressions, calling insults to the students leaving. It was predicted that none of the students from that particular House would stay to guard the castle they lived in for the majority of the year. Mr Filch –the caretaker of the building- limped towards the giant doors of the hall, leading the first of the students and never looking back. It could only be assumed that he was one of the most terrified magical people, being a squib. Other wizards could attempt to hold Voldemort off, or get away much more easily. He was holding his beloved cat Mrs Norris and appeared to be soothing her. Professor McGonagall then ordered all the remaining to leave, bar those of age who wished to protect their school. Colim stayed, awaiting instruction from those of the most experience.
When Professor McGonagall saw this, she demanded him to leave, along with fellow underage housemates. He refused, and almost had to be taken by force. When he attended the school he was a member of Gryffindor, the house for those as courageous as lions.
After being led down the damp tunnel to the Hog’s Head Pub, he joined with those who, like him, were underage but wanting to fight. They stealthily snuck out of the pub, proving easy amid the chaos. Knowing the land surrounding Hogsmeade was a positive, as the members of guerrilla group had spent many Saturday’s exploring, having nothing better to do. They heard them before they saw them, the followers of the Dark Lord congregated outside the wrought iron gates that remained closed in the dark times.
The group decided that they would attack from behind, surprising the Death Eaters as they attempted to enter the school. Hiding in a nearby clearing, they discussed tactics and pledged that they would fight till the end of the war or the end of their lives, whichever came first.
It was neither hot nor cold, but the tension in the air was thick. Yes, he would try his best to defend his school, and most importantly, Harry Potter. They would defeat the Dark Lord with as few casualties as possible, although he knew that many would still perish in the battle.
The guerrillas heard the Death Eaters attempting to break the forces on the Hogwarts castle in desperate efforts to find Harry Potter. They knew that they could not defeat all that stood outside the gates, so decided to wait until some had gone in, knowing those inside were capable of skilful duelling.
Colin snuck closer to the crowd of the Dark Lord’s followers, capturing photos of their faces. The reasoning behind this: he knew that after the war Aurors would pursue theses wizards, and they needed photographic evidence to put them in Azkaban for life.
Finally, the underage students attacked. They caught the remaining Death Eaters by surprise, but didn’t realise how evil they could be. There was only so much Stunning Spells and Disarming Charms could do, and Colin quickly realised that their group stood no chance against the experienced duellers they were fighting. Some of the guerrillas had been taught the Dark Arts in school that year, Colin, being a muggle-born, had not returned to Hogwarts when the school year began. He hadn’t used magic for over a year, but the natural ability was transferred from his body to his wand.
Both adults and teenagers were wounded before his eyes, the weak falling, the strong fighting and the lucky standing. The duels were proving difficult, but Colin was never one to back down from a fight. He was one of the most persistent people one had the fortune of meeting, even if he was quite annoying. A horrid, gut-wrenching cry was heard, and the moment Colin turned his head, having a lapse in concentration, the masked wizard he was duelling took advantage of this.
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