Non Omnis Moriar

3: Battle of Hogwarts

Hello folks!

How have you all been? Is Winter treating you all nicely? Any plans for Christmas?

Here's another chapter!

***

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was dark, embellished with stars, and below it the four long House tables were lined with disheveled students, some in traveling cloaks, others in dressing gowns. The pearly white figures of the school ghosts shone here and there. Every eye, living and dead was fixed upon Professor McGonagall, who was speaking from the raised platform at the top of the Hall. Behind her stood the remaining teaches, including the palomino centaur, Firenze, and the members of the Order of the Phoenix who had arrived to fight. I slipped into the Hall, looking curiously at Firenze.

His eyes caught mine across the hall, a hoof coming down serenely as he questioned my gaze calmly.

Were we going to be okay? What could he see in the stars?

He held my eyes for a second longer, reading my questions, surely, but he didn't deign to answer. Instead he chose to turn his attention back to McGonagall. I looked down in disappointment.

"...evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madame Pomfrey. Prefects; when I give the word you will organize your House and take your charges in orderly fashion to the evacuation point.

Most of the students looked terrified. I strayed further into the Hall, eyes peeled for Harry, Ron and Hermione when Ernie Macmillan stood up at the Hufflepuff table and shouted; "And what if we want to stay and fight?"

There was a smattering of applause.

"If you are of age, you may stay." said Professor McGonagall.

"Where's Professor Snape?" shouted a girl from the Slytherin table.

"He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk." replied Professor McGonagall and a great cheer erupted from the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables. "We have already placed protection around the castle," Professor McGonagall was saying, "but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects -"

A high, cold hiss drowned out the rest of her instructions. I paused, midway when the voice spoke up, as if seeping from the walls itself. It sent shivers down my back, a chill unexplained and primal.

"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

"Yeah, right," I couldn't help mutter.

"Give me Harry Potter and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

I raised my eyes once the voice downed. There was a piercing silence as I felt heads turn around me, looking at one particular direction. My feet began to move. The silence was pierced when another figure stood up, this time at the Slytherin table. "He's there! Someone grab him! That's Potter." Pansy Parkinson screeched.

"Shut up, Parkinson. Sit down before I burn your hair out." I snapped. More heads swiveled as I reached Harry, taking his hand in mine. I angled my body between him and the glares that were trained on him. His eyes were hooded; contemplative that he didn't protest my spontaneous defense of him.