In three very different settings, three very different armies were hastily preparing for the battle that was about to take place.
There was the Dark side, led by Voldemort, nothing but a skeleton possessed with the darkest of magic with a pitch black cloak thrown over, two ruby-red eyes glistening from under the hood, with over three thousand witches and wizards, all leering and cheering, all confident they would win.
If they lost…everything was lost.
There was the Light side, led by James Potter II and Fred Weasley II, an army of near two hundred witches and wizards, all grim and worried, but all had a smoldering fire alight in their eyes. They knew this was a suicide battle. They were ready to die rather than live in a world ruled by Voldemort and his followers.
If they lost…everything changed.
And then there was the third army. Quite possibly the strangest one of all three groups; quite possibly the only factor that won or lost the war.
If they lost…everyone died.
The war is here. This is it.
“Remember what is in store for winning,” Voldemort’s voice hissed, the sound reaching to each and every person standing before him, chilling their nerves. “Power, wealth, invincibility. Winning this war means that each and every one of you will finally have everything you could ever want.”
Eyes flashed greedily.
“We will not lose.” They chanted obediently.
“Alright,” James began, his voice low, but easily heard in the silent room. Two hundred pairs of eyes turned towards him, looking at him, all hoping he’d have something miraculous to say. He took a deep breath. “We can do this, guys,” He continued, looking as if he were giving a pep-speech before a major Quidditch game, back when they were all in school. James swallowed hard and looked around, hoping someone would help him; it’s hard to give a pep speech to a group where everyone is sure to die, no matter what’s said.
Lucy came to his rescue. “Look,” She said firmly, standing up and gently easing James into one of the seats, her hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder as she made eye contact with everyone. “We all know the opposing side is bigger, but we’re faster. We can go home now and just not fight, we can ensure that each and every one of us will survive tonight, but at what price?”
She paused, her words ringing in the ears of everyone. “The price is too high for me to go home, I would rather die than live in a world so terrible and know that I could have done something to change it.
“We’re out numbered, they’ve stolen everything from us; this is our final chance to do anything. Fighting for something that seems so hopeless is hard, but I know that we can do it because unlike them, we’ve got this one trait that they lack. We care for one another, and that fear that we have for a loved one to die, be it your child,” She looked at Scorpius who was hugging Callie tight to his chest, rubbing her back gently, “Be it your boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife,” She looked at Dominique and Lysander, who had their hands clasped tightly together, “Be it your siblings or cousins or friends. That fear makes us invincible, because knowing that someone is willing to die for you because they love you makes you fearless. And being fearless is what we need to be because inside, every single one of those men and women on Voldemort’s side is terrified of being killed, of being abandoned, of being left alone because no one cares enough to help them. We are going to win this war.”
She allowed a small, prideful but slightly sad grin to tug at her lips, “Or we are going to die trying, right?”
The roar that followed was deafening.
“This is it,” She said quietly, looking down at her scared hands, the wounds still as raw as they had been the day she’d gotten them. She looked around and nodded once, “Are you ready?”
The explosion that came after shook the ground for miles.
James was point, insisting that he would be the one to lead them all inside the ministry, before the inevitable split up, when everyone fought everyone, so much like the Second Wizarding War. The children were left at the Burrow, Percy's wife watching them.
As soon as they entered the ministry, everyone was on edge, waiting for the first spell to go off.
And when it finally did, everyone sprang into action. Brightly coloured rays of light flew every which way, most going long, but some hitting their targets. It was evident that the Light side was reluctant to kill anyone, but as soon as the first person fell to the black cloaked people, the jets of green joined their other spells.
Voldemort was not there, Dom mused, fighting hard against a group of four Death Eaters, two of which were laughing madly as she dodged more than she fired, he was waiting out the war again; waiting for everyone to kill themselves before he came out and declared himself ruler.
That thought surged into a blind fury, and her left hand dove into her cloak pocket, grabbing the pistol as her right still fired off spells one after another, and soon there were four dead Death Eaters surrounding her, each with a bullet lodged in their hearts, her ears ringing slightly at the bang that was still heard to her over the screaming and exploding of everyone and everything else.
She watched Lysander fumble, and within a second, the Death Eater that was about to kill him from behind was on the ground, blood pouring from his stomach, clutching at his foreign wound desperately.
Lucy glanced at her and shook her head a couple times, as if amused, but swore loudly when someone took advantage of her distraction and sliced her back. With another bang, this time from Lucy’s gun, another Death Eater fell from the bullets.
But the Light side was falling quickly as well. For every ten Death Eaters they took out, five Order members collapsed, either dead or severely wounded.
It truly seemed a lost cause.
“Lily,” She whispered to one of the spirits only she could see, “Do your thing.”
There were hundreds of screams heard as the entire left side of the ministry exploded, as if on its own. People froze in their tracks, coughing and hacking at the dust that blinded their eyes, clawed at their skin, suffocated their windpipes. Ancient marble came crashing down, hitting people in its wake, and there was a strained haze as spells, placed on the walls by the first witches and wizards themselves were banished, as if they were mere spells cast by incompetent first years. The brillant greenish-black marble was completely shattered--it would have been surprising if the muggle world above did not feel the eruption.
Finally, the dust settled in layers drifting across the cracked marble floor, and the sight that was before the fighters was so shocking that the fighting was still paused.
The Order gasped as they all took in the flawless face, not a wound in sight, standing tall and proud, the slight breeze making her hair flutter as if in a movie, her hands on her hips, an army of near fifteen hundred behind her, a third of them seen, most of them invisible to everyone, though their presence was easily noticed.
Rose had finally come.
Heh heh. That was a bit longer of a wait than I imagined it would be. A fun fact about this story. I'm scared shitless to post the last two chapters. I'm doubting myself. No one reassure me. I might go completely rewrite the ending now. And then do my pile of homework that I've got. School sucks. Meh.
On the plus side, two more chapters left! This is the first actual long story I've ever finished. That other one The Bet doesn't count because it's four chapters and that's no fun. :D
EDIT: On the not-so-plus side, I'm dumb. I had stuff written and I'd changed it, but I dunno why it didn't save, and so you lot who've already read this chapter got the bad part. But it's edited now, I'm almost positive I fixed everything. Sorry!