Chapter 81 The Lack of Calm before the Storm

From the fall of the Ministry, it had taken then six weeks. Six weeks to destroy a magical community and replace it with… something else. That something else would be a totalitarian regime that was a near-perfect union of the Communist Police State and Nazi Fascism. Their policies and ideals only intensified the already ongoing exodus. Indeed, many magical races such as the Vampyres, and the Werewolves had abandoned the country entirely. The half-bloods and muggle-born had been quick to follow suit, but Voldemort was determined to do everything in his power to ensure the purity of his empire by removing every trace of the "undesirable elements which have long plagued wizarding society."

The Dark Lord's definition of "undesirable" excluded virtually every race of nonhuman magical beings without verified proof of at least four generations of pureblood ancestry. The irony was that it was the Goblins who were provided the proof of paternal and maternal bloodlines at an exorbitant cost to the government in exchange for being left well enough alone, something everyone know would never last.

The Goblins were officially neutral in what was essentially termed a "Wizarding Conflict." However, for the safety and security of their own, the Goblins had removed much of their own wealth and immigrated nearly their entire population to "calmer territories." Gringotts was only manned by an all-volunteer force of Goblins who deemed the hazard pay sufficient remuneration for having to maintain the razor's edged balance between the two warring wizarding factions. The Goblins had to maintain the veneer of neutrality at least, even if they were providing plenty of supplies to Hogwarts at premium prices, something Harry had agreed to so that the goblins would not lose out by agreeing NOT to sell to the Ministry.

In an unprecedented move, the 100 Years War Wards had been raised. This effectively locked down the borders of the nation to all forms of magical transportation. The effect of such wards was felt by the muggles as well, who had been at a loss to explain the inclement weather, the unpredictable ocean waters, and baffling "electrical or magnetic phenomenon which renders air travel an extremely unsafe venture at this time."

The wards were a source of sarcastic amusement: "You don't want us to stay, but you will not let us leave either! "

Of course, the common witch or wizard, caught in the middle had only one bastion to turn to: Hogwarts. Voldemort had left all the so-called undesirables and unwanted gathered in Hogwarts, swearing an oath of allegiance to the Light, to the Legion, and more than once to Harry Potter. The Legion was fully aware of the simple brutality of Voldemort's strategy: Force the enemies of his regime to congregate, and then crush them in a single pitched battle. Thus Hogwarts was the anvil. The only question that had yet to be answered: When would the hammer fall?

That December, the snow lay thick upon the grounds of Hogwarts, and Christmas was still a good three weeks away. Harry sighed as he studied the Great Hall from his vantage point at the Gryffindor Table. This had once been a school he thought, and it will become the site of our last stand for a few thousand, including what's left of the Aurors, The Order of the Phoenix, my Legion, and the refugees.

He recalled the days when there would have been a dozen Christmas trees in the Great Hall, decorations that had left foreign dignitaries glancing around in amazement. He suddenly remembered the Great Hall, as it had been just a scant few years ago, during the Yule ball hosted during the Triwizard tournament. "And I thought things were already ridiculously complicated."

"I believe the saying goes, "There is no such thing as rest for the wicked" replied Rowena, "And I fear that you are correct in your assessment of the situation: It is a matter of 'when,' not 'if.' Are your preparations ready?

"They are," replied Harry mentally, carrying out the conversation in his head has he done on numerous occasions over the past year with what could be called the living soul of Hogwarts, "What of your own defenses?"

"They are ready, but you are aware of their limitations even with the "upgrades," she replied

Harry gave the mental equivalent of a nod and made his way to the Room of Requirement in order to burn off some excess energy and excise some of his frustrations before he called the 3rd of December a day.

It was late in the night, or early in the morning, on December 4th when a dozing Harry was awoken by a wave of heat from the ring around his finger. Bleary-eyed, he's fumbled his glasses onto his face and quickly decoded the message open the ring. With a wave of his hand over the ring, he acknowledged the message and sent a message of his own: Legion Commanders: Situation One. Deploy.

Within minutes, Harry was exiting Moaning Myrtle's flooded bathroom as he made his way towards the Room of Requirement. The castle was in a state of controlled chaos as everyone carried out their respective orders as Dumbledore himself awaited Harry's appearance, "Mr. Potter," he said politely.

"Headmaster," he replied as the two fell in step.

"It is true then?" asked Dumbledore without any preamble.

"Yes. Voldemort is sacking Hogsmeade as we speak. The Death Eaters are leveling every building and leaving nothing alive. They are coming to Hogwarts."

"Given the level of controlled chaos, I presume you have a plan in place," said Dumbledore, "and the Room of Requirement plays a crucial role?" They were standing just outside the aforementioned room as Harry pushed the door open. The sight within left the headmaster momentarily dumbfounded.

Harry had a small smile on his face, "Welcome to Legion Command, Headmaster."

As Harry strode in with Dumbledore at his heels, more than one of the students stopped to snap off a salute. Legion Command was massive. Three floors were set deep into the room. Two tiers of individuals sat in front of crystal and glass screens around the walls, the uppermost tier only accessible by an iron and steel walkway and manned by students. There was an observation gantry about them that housed a trio who looked down on the proceedings and provided overwatch on the door into Command.

In the center of the chamber was a large table, a project of sorts that flickered as information was updated from a wide brass-like stand beneath it. Half a dozen semi-opaque screens, three on each side of the display showed certain areas of the display up close and in greater detail. A student operator stood on each side with their wands outstretched. Another ring of control consoles and displays sprouted from the stones like standing stones, paneled in wood with brass controls and crystal dials, and displays were crewed by even more students.

Harry made his way to a large table that left Dumbledore staring at the replica of Hogwarts, in full color, showing her walls and grounds, leading all the way down to Hogsmeade, the Black Lake, and even the Forbidden Forest. "You have outdone the legacy of the Marauders," murmured Dumbledore, as he looked around and saw Patronus messages flitting back and forth between the multitudes of individuals, relaying information and updating the tactical display. It took Dumbledore a moment before he could believe that there were third-year students using Patronus messengers, and the fragments of messages he could hear.

"Ravenclaw: Situation One…."

"…batteries four through six ready op!"

"Slytherin contained, will take some time….

"…reported at two hundred plus on brooms…."

"…findor: Situation one achieved."

"Dragon? Did you say dragon?"

"Dragons? How many?"

"Copy: Armoured Trolls…"

"Dementors alongside…"

"…puff, Situation One."

"Copy: Giants…"

"Harry! The ward matrix is under attack! The intruder… the intruder knows the passphrases! I cannot deny her entry! Hurry!" Rowena was practically screaming into Harry's mind.

The warning was a stream of screamed telepathy that made him wince, making him wince - a motion that was not lost on Dumbledore who wisely kept his own counsel, "I will join them," said Harry, "Headmaster Dumbledore, your presence would be more useful atop the battlements than in here."

"Indeed," said the Headmaster and departed quickly. Harry nodded to three of the ten Legionnaires guarding Command. They detached themselves from the walls and followed the headmaster quickly and covertly.

Nineteen minutes had elapsed since Harry had been roused from his slumber, but it had been almost thirty minutes since someone stepped over three bodies without a second thought and drew a heavily enchanted dirk from the folds of a black robe.

The intruder placed the tip of the dagger against the door lock and smiled as the wards a whirlwind of swirling light and color as the powerful protection were undone, turning a rancid black and green before fading away, leaving a door of stout oak without a lock. Grasping the doorknob, and slowly opening it, the intruder entered and closed the door with a self-satisfied smirk.

The room pulsed with beautiful light in different shades of green and silver, red and gold, illuminating the intruder's features for several seconds despite the heavy hood that hid the features. The humming noise was strange and oddly comforting emanated from a large crystal, suspended in mid-air, surrounded by a spiral of smaller crystals that pulsed with white light. She knew that the smaller spiral were essentially power stones that helped maintain the integrity and stability of the master ward stone, which essentially kept all of the intricately interwoven wards from causing a cascade failure against each other

She shook herself out of her stupor and quickly approached the outer spiral and the closest crystal, glowing with reddish-brown and golden hues humming a quiet song. Raising her dagger, she slammed it down into the crystal. There was a sharp cracking sound and the humming became a high-pitched whine as magic crackled over the surface, causing it to crack before it began to shatter in on itself.

Withdrawing the dagger, she slammed into a second crystal. Purple and blue hues turned black and the crystal itself fell out of the formation as the entire array began to vibrate dangerously. Turning she plunged her dagger into a third crystal and then a fourth.

The door exploded off its hinges in a roar of magic as Harry stalked into the room, alongside both security teams, totaling nine Legionnaires against the one traitor. "Edgecombe," he whispered softly in surprise as he identified the face standing behind the crippled crystal array from the very faint but still visible scars that still outlined the word "sneak."

"Surprised Potter?" she sneered, doing an excellent impersonation of the now long dead Severus Snape, "Did you honestly think that I would forgive what you did to me? My Lord knew precisely where and how to cripple the castle wards. He will kill your precious Legion and it is has been the greatest pleasure of my life to be the one to do this to you! My revenge for what you did to me! And now the Dark Lord comes with an entire army! You will scream for death until you have no voice! Your pathetic legion! The mudbloods! The traitors! All will suffer and perish before my…."

Harry had heard enough and his wand was up and a burst of dark crimson magic had flown from his wand. It was a single spell that coalesced into a shimmering yellow and red orb of flame that struck her in the stomach. She stared at her stomach for a long moment and then looked at her adversary, "Is that it?" with heated scorn and hate in her voice.

There was a sudden warm tingle, then it became a heat, and then the pain as something began burning inside her. She opened her mouth to scream, and felt a raw wave of pain as the very oxygen in the air she breathed fuelled the flames within her.

Harry watched, dispassionately as Marietta Edgecombe screamed in agony and screamed some more. Her skin began to glow from within as her skin cracked and flames oozes through like slow-moving lava. Her flesh blackened and charred. A yellow and red glow sparked from her eyes, and sparks flew from her nose and ears as her hair burned away. She fell to her knees, and then on to her face, reaching up to Harry desperately, her horrified eyes pleading for a quick death as her hand latched on to Harry's basilisk hide boot.

He looked down at her and lowered his wand, before kicking her arm away. Harry watched for the thirty seconds it took for her to die, and for another thirty seconds as the flames consumed her entirely, leaving nothing but some ash and scorched stone.

Harry left the room at a dead run back to Legion Command. He needed to be there to coordinate their severely compromised defense: None of the Legion's planning and simulations had ever even considered that they would have to defend the castle without its wards or what was left of them, "Rowena?"

"Harry," she sounded for the first time in all the while Harry had known her weak and tired. She did not speak, more like whimpered in pain, "The shattering… it has weakened me… I do not… I cannot… the defenses."

"Rowena, do what you are able," said Harry quietly, "But rest assured, no matter what happens, they will not take this Castle without a fight!"

He took a moment to compose himself before emerging from the hidden passageway and into the seventh-floor corridor. He walked, briskly but at a measured pace, nothing that could be called an out-of-control run as he schooled his face into a mask of calm. He walked and studied the massive marauders' map spread out across the table and read the tactical situation with a growing sense of disbelief.

There was everything imaginable out there: Dark Witches and Wizards were one thing. Trolls and giants were expected and so were the Werewolves, no doubt led by Fenrir Greyback. The Dementors came as no great surprise either. What would pose a tactical nightmare would be the dozen or so giants and the half dozen Dragons, "Where the hell could they get dragons from?" growled Harry to himself. He turned to his aide-de-camp, Neville, "Sitrep."

"Slytherin resists, but everywhere else is at Condition One Commander," Neville reported. He took a long hard look at Harry's, noting that his commander has run his fingers through his hair. Never a good sign, "What?" he prodded.

"We've been betrayed," he said quietly, "Marietta Edgecombe. She's shattered the ward and power stone matrix. They'll last a while but nowhere near long enough for anything we planned to actually work. We are going to have to go with Plan "Make-it-the-fuck-up-as-we-go-along. Now give me a minute to think."

The moment Harry's message had gone out to the Legionnaires, within the Castle, a series of one side duels had erupted the length and breadth of the Castle. The Goblins had gleefully provided extensive information regarding all the Death Eater offspring studying at Hogwarts. The Legion moved swiftly to neutralize a large portion of the Slytherin Seniors, as well as select students from all the houses. However, the unmarked and "junior" Death Eaters of Hogwarts had taken to camping in their common room as much as possible and with only one door, it was proving to be an incredibly difficult to crack open.

At least it was until a second Legionnaire was taken down by a bludgeoning hex and evacuated to the Infirmary where Madam Pomfrey waiting alongside several other students to deal with the incoming wounded. "Twins never got these working the way they should have," she said calmly to her boyfriend as she handed out the cylindrical shapes.

"I know," he said, equally calm about what he was about to do, "But you got to give the Death Eaters in there some credit: least they got their juniors bundled out before the spellfire started."

"True."

"Legion summons: a Tempest Pacificus in ten!" shouted Colin to the dozen Legionnaires with them. Just like they had practiced, Luna set pulled the pins and tossed them up before Colin banished them through the doorway and into the Slytherin Common Room. Precisely five seconds later, there was an explosion of noise, and a cone of white light flared out of the doorway accompanied by the shouts and screams from the Death Eaters within.

"Legion! Charge!" shrieked Luna, an edge of madness in her tone that would have done the deceased Bellatrix Lestrange proud as she led the Legionnaires inside.

"Maybe…. Ten was a bit much?" suggested Colin. "Looks like we can call Condition…"

"Avada Kedevra!" The bolt of sickening green death flashed across the room and the fight was on as Legion and Death Eater traded spell fire across the confines of the Common Room. The vast majority of Death Eaters only have three major spells in their arsenal: The Unforgivable Three. Most are also fairly lousy shots, depending on their numbers to get the job done in almost every instance. Unfortunately, once in a very great while, even a blind squirrel will find a nut: One Death Eater had used up her every last ounce of luck, indeed, the luck of every last follower of Voldemort in the Slytherin Common Room, killing Colin Creevey, and condemning them to death.

Luna's wrath was terrifying to behold as her wand spun in her hand, unleashing a powerful hex. The Ribbon Cutter sheared its target in half from the right shoulder to the left knee, demolishing several tables and an armchair before gouging a six in deep slash in the wall. She was in motion even before tables and Pansy had slid to the floor. "Corarcis!" The Siege Breaker basically smashed like a runaway train into someone else holding a wand, pulverizing him into the wall.

Two pinpoint piercing charms fired to her left blew through a sofa. Sophia and Stephan Mengsk were cowering at opposite ends of the same sofa. She watched a piercing hex punch into the top of her twin brother's head, watched their head jerk back upright as the curse bore its way out of the side of his/her neck. Barely a moment after that, Sophia was thrown backward as the second hex pierced her left eye and scrambled her brain.

The spell sent back in return seemed weak and pitiful as Luna dodged, weaved, sidestepped, and literally danced through the storm of incoming spells. The Legion charged alongside her, two falling to injury, one more killed, smashed off her feet by a killing curse.

A near-simultaneous banishing charm sent broken furniture and other detritus crashing into Quentin Blake, perforating her torso with chunks of the shattered table. Luna's summoning charm pulled Jonathan Wright into the path of a cutting curse.

It was over within seconds as she looked around, breathing hard, as tears spilled down her cheeks as she staggered drunkenly over to her fallen boyfriend, and collapsed to her knees beside him. She cradled his head in her lap and began to shudder as tears flowed down her cheeks, sobs wracking her body as she willed, prayed, pleaded, and begged for her Colin back.

"Control: Slytherin Common Room. Situation One. Four casualties," said Elaine Dryden quietly, "Inform Commander Potter, Colin Creevey… has fallen."

Commander Potter has gripped the edge of the display as he absorbed the news. He quashed the anger that warred with the sadness and grief. Family. Friend. Brother. Legionnaire. Colin had been all four. Luna would be near impossible to console. He forced his mind to focus on the display, promising himself that he would grieve later… if there was a later.

Hundreds of Death Eaters, every last Effingus no doubt were gathered at the very edge of the castle grounds, no doubt with their wands clenched tight in their hands, just waiting for the word. Hovering above the mass ranks, were several hundred Dementors, and half a dozen dragons. Interspersed amongst the Death Eaters were the Werewolves and Trolls clad in heavy armor, together with a number of small-mountain-sized Giants. Harry watched and waited. The storm front was upon them.

Just beyond the main gate of Hogwarts, the bearers of the Dark Mark stood their ground, and waited as their Lord and master, probed the wards, muttering long incantations under his breath. He smiled a death head's grin. The wards were there but he could feel it: the lack of ward stones to anchor them. There was no need to advance just yet. He nodded and raised his wands, and his followers followed suit: A mass volley of jets, streaks, and beams, over a thousand curses slammed into the wards. They shivered under the initial barrage but repeated volleys followed, a deadly mix of blasting, cutting, piercing, gouging hexes and curses pounded the wards mercilessly. The wards fizzled and flared all the iridescent colors of the rainbow. Sure enough, they began to fizzle as there was nothing to recharge them.

"Wards failing!" shouted someone

"Batteries ready to fire!" someone else echoed.

A mix of good and bad news within seconds of each other, perhaps a dark portent of the way the coming battle was going to go. Harry drew his wand. "Neville, you have tactical command."

Neville nodded, grim-faced at the massive responsibility deposited on his shoulders. But he had trained for this, drilled for it, and accepted the burden with a nod "Won't let you down, Commander."

"I know." Harry strolled out. He heard the door swing shut and lock behind him as the posted guards fell in step behind him. He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that the door itself would have vanished: Arguably the best protection that their command and control elements could be afforded.

The wards finally collapsed with a thunderclap that sounded as if Thor's Hammer, Mjoliner slamming shut the gates of hell itself. It left a sharp ringing in the ears of the defenders and buffeted many off their feet but those that remained stood their ground defiantly as the Death Eaters, with a roar that rivaled the thunderclap took their first steps past the gate and onto the grounds of Hogwarts Castle.

The Dark Army had over a kilometer of open ground to cover before the Entrance Hall, officially but never referred to as "The Chamber of Reception," where hundreds of First Years had awaited their turn to be called forth and sorted into their House. They would pay a heavy price in blood for every inch of ground that they took.

From the battlements and front towers of the castle, the students of Hufflepuff House took careful aim. Nobody questioned where the Legion had acquired the quaffle-sized projectiles, or how so many had been stockpiled in the castle. Those that knew would never reveal just how magical the Room of Requirement truly is. At a word, almost a hundred were launched from the castle and glided through the air in a gentle arc. At the very apex of their glide, each fragmented. Magic allowed for truly wonderful things to be done thanks to space expansion charms and shrinking charms. Hundreds of six-inch metal projectiles flew from each of the quaffles and fell in free fall from a height of sixty meters. The massed ranks stared up into the sky in confusion for a long moment as the last of the stasis charms faded and the propulsion charms on each projectile flared to life. The propelled hail of metal slivers smashed into the Death Eaters. Many were quick to conjure shields or summon a barrier to absorb the brutal rain. The smarter ones took cover behind the heavily armored Trolls who raised their enchanted shields.

The screaming and dozens began to die as dozens more were maimed and crippled. A second volley pummelled and shattered already weakened shields. In several places, the Trolls themselves had been perforated like pin cushions. More than one collapsed, crushing Death Eaters with their multi-ton bulk. The Death Eater advance was stalled but they quickly regrouped, layering shields and summoned barriers to protect themselves, rendering the third volley largely ineffective.

Reports filtered back to Command from the observers on brooms and Neville was quick to realize that broad bombardment would be unlikely to penetrate the impromptu heavy defenses. Considering their munitions reserves, he ordered the artillery teams to concentrate their fire on more strategic targets: The armored Trolls.

It was never a secret that Trolls were generally about as intelligent as the average piece of yard fencing. However, that stupidity made them easy to bewitch into following almost any command. In this case, they were covered in five-inch think metal plate armor with equally heavy and large helmets that covered much of their faces. The Trolls carried a shield on one arm that was almost as large as they were, and a club that was easily the size of a small tree, with heavy iron bands and spikes for breaking down walls, and cracking skulls with equal ease. Almost a hundred of the beasts were scattered amongst the first few ranks of the Dark Army, providing multiple nuggets of brute physical power and heavy cover in the otherwise magic heavy Death Eater line. The defenders unleashed a targeted barrage from the tower and the Trolls moved forward, raising and interlocking their giant shields as the stream of near molten metal rained down upon them, killing tens more. But overall, the barrage was largely ineffective.

The Dark Army held its ground, as even more shields were cast and barriers conjured and summoned. Overhead above the muddy body shattered and blood-soaked ground, dozens of Dementors alongside six Dragons streaked in towards the exposed artillery teams along the tops of the towers and battlements. Air to Air combat, between broom riders was something that the Legion had discussed and discarded early on in their defensive planning due to the impossibility of being able to train teams to fight in the air with any kind of regularity.

The artillery teams ducked beneath their own magical and physical shields the Dragons strafed the battlements with long gouts of flames from end to end. It took all of Rowena's strength to keep her defenders safe. But in more than one place, her shield failed, condemning many to an agonizing, burning death. For many atop the walls, this was the first time that they would turn their wands to cast a piercing charm upon a brother or sister in arms, and friend, to end their suffering.

It was certainly a lopsided affair: Hit a dragon with ease and do no damage to the creature. Kill a Dementor using the Iougulous Patronum – Dementor Killer – Charm, assuming that you can actually hit one. But for now, the battle was going roughly as they had planned.

Perhaps acting under orders from Voldemort, or perhaps acting under the orders of their own master, the Dementors swarmed in over the battlements and walls, just as the defenders had planned. Honeydukes would forever remember the day Luna had led a half dozen girls into the store and literally bought out their entire stockpile of chocolate for exactly this moment.

Virtually every Legionnaire was on their feet, chomping through a mouthful of chocolate to help keep the tendrils of cold, and the Dementor's aura of chilling damnation at bay. A wall of patroni rose from the courtyard, cast by the waiting students of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Working in concert, their casters created a web that forced the Dementors to cluster together. Seconds later Hufflepuff unleashed over a hundred beams of streaming silver into the congregated mass of black robes and darkness. The first volley perforated their ranks and the second and third lanced into them shearing robes and limbs. A high-pitched keening wail speared the air, one that made the stone reverberate, leaving a palpable echo of pain, suffering, and loss.

It was more than enough for the Dementors. Those still capable of flight floated, many trailing dark black smoke, many with their robes disintegrating and many more of them dying, filling the air was the stench of something burning, and the taste of ash and soot seemed to settle in the back of the throat of every Legionnaire.

A ragged cheer erupted from the throats of the defenders as the last of the crippled Dementors retreated, but for the defenders, the victory was short-lived as the dragons made another pass. Heroically, Albus Dumbledore stop atop the battlements and shielded over two dozen students with a single shield as dragon fire began to melt the stone around them.

The heavy bulky roar was nearly lost over the roar of the serpentine beasts, but the trashing head of the dragon sprayed flames over the lower portion of the walls, giving the defenders a few moments pause. Argus Filch cackled almost evilly as he shook out his neck, working the bolt, and chambered another bullet. He nestled the buttstock of his beloved L96A Accuracy International Arctic Warfare snugly against his shoulder and put his eye to the Schmidt & Bender Military Mk. 3-12x 50 telescopic sights. "Better than a Conjunctivitis Curse" he growled to himself.

Taking aim from the Owlery window again, the rifle pushed back against his shoulder, hard enough to bruise. He smiled slightly at the memory, wishing his old friend, and spotter Frank Bryce could be with him today, spotting for targets as they had done during their shared, counter-insurgency days against the IRA. The now blind dragon flailed wildly through the air and had collided with one of its kin. Both beasts had gone down locked in a swirling melee of their own that ended with a crash landing that flattened a good three hundred meters of the Forbidden Forest.

Both sides paused as the two beasts smashed into the earth, not only crushing the forest beneath their bulk but also gouging an almost equally long and deep scar into the Earth, one that would later be known as "Dragon's Cut Gorge." The remaining four Dragons swept around for another pass along the towers and battlements. Nearly two dozen lost their lives to the brutal flames and claws of their winged adversaries. The dragons served their purpose, pinning the defenders in place under the penalty of agonizing fiery death and the Death Eater land army pressed the advance.

Harry Potter crossed the courtyard and jogged up the inner staircase that lead to the wall top just as a Chinese Fireball completed another attack run. Where the others breathe streams of flame, the Fireball actually propelled a succession of flaming spheres that exploded like miniature grenades. Though the flames dissipated upon impact, the knife-like stone shards thrown outward were brutally effective shrapnel. Drawing magic to him, Harry raised his wand and took aim at the fast-approaching brute. With a complicated twirl of his wand, he jabbed it towards the dragon.

Those watching him were confused: Nothing happened. Then the tip of Harry's wand began to glow. He looked at it for a moment then adopted a vise-like two-handed grip as the wand shuddered, and a column of pure white destruction pulsed outwards. The beam pulsed and diverged until it was almost a foot wide and blasted into the Dragon. The flare of light was so bright that combatants on both sides were momentarily blinded and dazed. Those Legionnaires close to their Commander were left dealing with a variety of symptoms ranging from flash blindness to brutal nosebleeds. But the Dragon's scaly hide was peeled away, and the flesh beneath evaporated in the onslaught of furious energy. When the light faded, the Dragon was reeling, swaying drunkenly through the air. It accidentally decapitated the Owlery with its tail, before plowing into the ground on the far side of the castle. It twitched feebly and then died.

It was enough to convince Voldemort, that for the moment, he was outmatched, and he called for his forces to withdraw. The remaining Dragons disengaged, and his land army withdrew beyond the reach of the defender's already meager artillery fire.

For the Defenders, there was no cheering. There was nothing to celebrate. Grim-faced, they assessed the damage, recovered the bodies of the fallen, and began treating their wounded and repairing their defenses. What had transpired was merely a lack of calm. The wards were in tatters, their munitions stockpile already at below half, and the leading edge of the storm had yet to fall upon Hogwarts Castle.