Dark Days

Okay, I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO sorry that it has taken me this long to update. I’ve had so many problems with my computer that it’s just untrue. We’ve had over 60 viruses and worms or whatever they’re called on it. It’s taken ages to sort out. And add to that severe writer’s block and exams it’s not been a very good combination for fanfiction. Hopefully everything’s all sorted although I do have exams for the rest of the month. But with any luck the next chapter will not take that long. SORRY!!!!!! I hope you haven’t all forgotten about me. And once again SORRY!!!

Before we get into the chapter there’s something I need to clear up about the last chapter. Alanfan, I am not American as you supposed and I’m well aware of where Birmingham is. The geography is not messed up just not explained very well. In my story Hogwarts is located in the lower Pennines, not Scotland. For two reasons, one that in not one of the books does it say that Hogwarts is in Scotland, the country was used for locations in the films but it is not mentioned as the location in the books; also if I had had Hogwarts there in my story they would have been surrounded far too quickly. It’s called artistic license. The other thing is that I didn’t mention how big the area was around Hogwarts that was protected from the Death Eaters, it’s actually quite large and includes Hogsmeade and local areas. The Death Eaters have penetrated England as far as Birmingham except for those areas. It will become clear why eventually…hopefully.
I hope that clears a few things up. Enjoy Chapter Twenty.


Dark Days Chapter Twenty – The gathering dark

“A ring?” asked Severus in confusion.

“Not just ‘a’ ring, ‘the’ ring. It’s special.”

“What’s special about it?” he asked tentatively.

“I don’t know,” Hermione snapped, “She didn’t tell me.”

He didn’t reply but looked rather hurt, just for an instant before the usual man of ice and stone face kicked back in. “I’m sorry,” she said immediately, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It’s okay,” he said and held out his arms to her.

She curled up in the safety of his embrace. “How long is this going to go on? I’m so tired of it all. And now we’ve been sent on some divine wild goose-chase to find a ring and save the world… For fuck’s sake it just sounds so ridiculous.”

“Well maybe it does, but we’ve always known that the stakes were high, just not quite how high.”

“Yes but end of the world. Sounds like some cheesy action film.”

He looked slyly at her, “Correct me if I’m wrong but don’t cheesy action films usually have gratuitous sex scenes in them somewhere? Or at least the hint of one…?”

She laughed then, a smile finally returning to her lips, “Men; always thinking with the same part of your anatomy.”

“Well, you’re the beautiful, brave, yet vulnerable heroine, and I’m the dark brooding hero. It’s only natural that we should fall into each others…arms at some point…”

“Actually I think Harry’s supposed to be the hero of this scene.”

“You are not fucking boy wonder,” he said firmly.

She laughed, “Poor jealous boots! As if I would anyway!”

* * * * * *


The blonde girl was dead. Still beautiful, serene and calm now, but definitely dead. The colour had gone out from her cheeks and the sparkle of life had faded from her eyes. There were no marks on her body to testify to the manner of her death, one thing only was clear, it was not through natural causes. Chained to the great bed, on rumpled red silk sheets she lay, with more grace and dignity even in death that Voldemort had ever possessed, somehow that thought really pissed him off.

He yawned and stretched luxuriously. It had been a good day in all, his conquest of England had progressed well, many idiot rebels had been slain not to mention all the muggles captured and killed. And then to top it all off he had had his way with a beautiful young virgin, who had given him hours of pleasure before he had tired of her and cast the killing curse on her. And so it was that she now lay there on his bed, peaceful, lovely, dead.

Almost reluctantly he rose and pulled on a black silk robe that rustled about him as he moved. Leaving the girl behind he left the room to find Lucius and discuss the next stage of his conquest. They could not rest now, if England was to be his before summer the momentum must not be lost. He smiled to think of the day that the island would be his, and after that it was only a matter of time before the whole world bowed down before him.

* * * * * *

Hermione and Severus sat patiently in the headmaster’s office waiting for him to show up. They’d been sat there for ten minutes now, and had just been served a cup of tea by an ever helpful house-elf, but they were impatient for Albus to arrive.

“Where is he?” barked Severus irritably.

“How should I know?” asked Hermione mildly, “Lurking in a corridor spying on people probably. I’m sure that must be how he always knows about everything that’s going on in this place.”

“Lurking? I wouldn’t call it lurking.”

Hermione looked around, surprised yet at the same time not surprised at all. Dumbledore was stood behind her, long beard billowing slightly in the breeze from the open window.

“What would you call that then?” she asked. “Seems very lurky to me!”

He looked mildly offended. “Well…but lurking has such a coarse ring to it…”

Hermione grinned and his eyes twinkled at her. Severus glanced over at her in amusement, “Lurky?” he asked.

“Well what would you have said?” she retorted pulling her tongue at him.

“I don’t know something a bit more…sophisticated I suppose.” His eyes glinted mischievously as he rather uncharacteristically baited her.

She slapped his arm and glared at him. Dumbledore laughed merrily and sat himself down behind his desk.

“If you children are q fin finished playing, I take it you’re here for a reason other than to tease each other and myself.”

Hermione shot one last glare at Severus and turned to Dumbledore. “It’s a long story,” she said.

“Well then I’d imagine you’d best get on with it then.”

It didn’t take Hermione as long as she had feared to fill Dumbledore I on the rather strange occurrences she had been enduring. And to her great relief he did not immediately laugh in her face and tell her that she was completely mad, the dream no more than a lingering after-effect of her, indisposition shall we say.

“And you’re certain that she didn’t tell you what the ring was for? Not even in passing?”

“Certain,” she replied.

“Hmm, well I’m not sure whether or not we should trust her implicitly in this. As a rule it tends to be good advice to be wary when you start hearing voices.”

“I wasn’t hearing voices,” she protested shrilly, “It wasn’t like that at all. She was trying to help us.”

“But why? For some mischievous reason of her own perhaps? Or maybe the ring will actually be the means of our defeat and she is trying to aid Voldemort.”

“Don’t you think you’re being overly cynical old friend?” interjected Severus then.

Dumbledore sighed looking suddenly very old and weary. “Yes perhaps, it is difficult to be certain of anything these days. “Whatever this spirit’s purpose however we should still tread very carefully. Even at the best of times they are easily offended and the ancestors are reputedly the touchiest of the lot, noble and honourable to the bone, but easily angered and that I think is the last thing that we need.”

“Granted,” Severus smiled wryly, “You never know, maybe we’re actually getting lucky this time, getting unexpected help.”

“Maybe…” His eyes however looked worried and careworn, and his shoulders were hunched as if under a great weight.

* * * * * *

Sentries at the boundaries of the land protected by Hogwarts paced anxiously. All the lands surrounding them were covered with a dark shadow that seemed ever to thicken, writhing in anticipation of the slaughter to come perhaps, for there would be death there soon. The feeling of it hung in the air stifling and choking men’s spirits. At times it almost seemed that mocking laughter taunted them, whispering in their ears and making them want to cower away and give up. They slept warily, ever aware that soon the darkness would descend upon them and the death eaters would come. Overhead carrion birds circled adding to the gloom.

The silence that filled the air just before Dawn seemed even worse than the laughter and dit not noises of before. No-one slept. Men rolled in their blankets gazed up at the dark sky, stars blotted out by thick clouds and thought of home. Of happier days when they didn\'t lie awake awaiting death, be it theirs or others.

Two hours before the sky graced the sky a weary, mud-splattered soldier came limping into camp and barged his way into a large tent in the centre of the camp.

“Creevey reporting sir,” the young man saluted. “They’re coming sir. They’ve broken camp and are heading this way.”

“How many?” asked the man before him.

“More than all we have here sir. There are at least four thousand of them.”

The captain ran his hands through his flaming red hair. “Bloody brilliant; Dennis rouse the men, form up in defensive positions and lets hope to hold them off until help arrives. We can’t afford to lose this passage through the mountains. And ask Hagrid to come here please.”

Dennis saluted again and left at a limping run. Ron immediately began cursing and grabbed Pigwidgeon of his perch. The tiny owl hooted happily, its head poking out of Ron’s fist. Hastily he scribbled a message on a piece of parchment and attached it to the owl’s leg.

“Now listen here you bloody stupid bird. No side trips, no stopping to catch mice or anything else you fancy along the way this is vitally important. Get this to Dumbledore straight away, understand?”

The little owl hooted again and Ron released it. Reassuringly the bird did begin to fly towards Hogwarts, maybe there was hope for the little git yet.

Just then the tent flaps parted to admit an enormous man who despite the tents size still had to stoop. “Hagrid, I take it you’ve heard?”

“Aye, the bastards are finally coming.”

“Yes well I wish they weren’t. How many men do we have?”

“Just over eight hundred fit to fight Ron, and another hundred or so injured who have stayed to tend to the wounded.”

“Eight hundred against four thousand… I have a feeling this isn’t going to be one of my better days!”

Hagrid smiled wryly, “Well we best get movin’ keep up morale and all that.”

Ron nodded and hoped that Pig would get to Dumbledore soon. With the odds as they were, they wouldn’t hold this passage for long, and after that there were only fifty or so miles to Hogsmeade.

* * * * * *

Hermione and Severus were sat in silence, immersed in their own thoughts. The tower room was cold despite the fire on the hearth and the last remnants of last nights frost still clung to the window pane. They had not spoken much since they’d left Dumbledore’s office. Both however were thinking the same thing. What was the mysterious ring? Why was it needed? And was Maoli a friend or a foe? Outside an icy drizzle had started, and the sky was grey and dismal.

Suddenly the flames flared up in the hearth and Dumbledore’s head appeared in the flames. “Get to the entrance hall immediately, gather up your teams, our boundaries are under attack.” With one final flare the flames died down and the head disappeared. Hermione and Severus looked at each other stunned.

Hermione was the first to move, “Come on, we have to go,” she said standing and moving toward the door.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said leaping up and grabbing her arm.

“I have to, you know that.”

“I don’t want to lose you again,” he said.

She smiled but it looked out of place on her worried face, “You won’t,” she said simply and stood on tip-toe to kiss him. Then she turned and swept out of the room.

The entrance hall was packed. Witches and Wizards milled about getting organised and checking their wands. Apparently Dumbledore’s call had been universal. Harry and Tonks hurried towards them.

“What’s happened?” Hermione asked them.

“The old git’s finally decided that it’s time to pay us a visit,” said Tonks with a wry smile. “Ron’s unit’s already engaged and has been since before dawn. They got word to Neville and Oliver and they’ve now arrived to support them but they’re still horribly outnumbered.”

“By how many?” asked Severus.

“Well Ron had just over eight hundred but reckons he’s taken about two to three hundred losses so far, Neville sent three hundred and Oliver five hundred, but that’s still only just over one thousand, and you-know-who apparently has four thousand. It’s not looking good.”

Behind them the wizards were beginning to disappear, company by company. Minerva McGonagall approached them then. “Our soldiers are apparating to a gully about half a mile from the battle ground,” she said without preamble. “The ravine that they’re fighting in is only narrow which gives us a slight advantage as they can’t all attack at once. But we’re still horribly outnumbered.”

“Do you have a map of the area?” asked Severus then.

Silently she pulled one out of her robes and handed it to him. “Reveal,” The map lit up to show the deployment of the troops on both sides. “Here,” he said pointing. “That’s our weakest point, and here,” he indicated again. “That’s not looking too good either. If you two take your lot and move to fill this gap, we’ll take the first one and we’ll see if we can force them back. If we can get them to this point then we can form a shield across the entrance which should keep them at bay, for a while at least. Agreed?”

They all nodded, “Let’s go then,” said Hermione grimly.

“Good luck,” Minerva called after them as they disappeared.

* * * * * *

The first thing Hermione saw as she appeared at the battle field was a flaming man running towards her, his screams filled the air he collapsed at her feet clawing at the dirt and kicking his heels as he died. Quickly she put out the fire, but the man was already dead. Grimly and forcing herself not to look she stepped over the still twitching body and ran on towards the main fray. Severus appeared seconds behind her and nodding ran on past her to find the commander.

The wounded had been carried to a copse just removed from the battle, but as there were few to tend them many lay there dying. Hurrying through Hermione headed towards cliff where she could see out across the battle ground and see the damage.“Win“Wingardium Leviosa,” she cried softly and silently rose up off the earth. She reached the top of the cliff and stood for a moment looking out across the darkness. From here she could see where the weakest points were and casting the spell again, floated gently down just behind the danger point.

A soldier in front of her cried out in alarm as she reached the earth and spun round, wand raised. “Easy, easy,” she cried. “Only me.”

“Bloody hell Hermione; don’t do that to people,” cried Ron.

“What don’t bring help?”

“Help? Where’s help all I see is you?”

“They’re there,” she turned and pointed back where five hundred witches and wizards had appeared and were now marching forwards to relieve those at the front. “Severus’ taken five hundred more over that way,” she pointed. “He’ll have probably found Hagrid by now. And Harry and Tonks have another thousand five hundred and have gone to strengthen another weak point.”

Ron grinned, “I could kiss you!”

She grinned back, “Just don’t let Severus see!”

“So what’s the plan then? Since you’re here I’m deferring all decision making privileges to you, you’re better at it than me anyway.”

“Gee thanks!”

“Well it’s true.”

Hermione turned again and pointed south to the narrowest point of the gorge. “Severus and the others are going to turn all our forces that way, we have to do the same. We need to push them all back beyond that point and then we can shield it.”

“That won’t work, it was shielded before.”

“The magic doesn’t last forever Ron. It has to be renewed, but it seems this one was overlooked.”

“Oh great, that’s reassuring.”

“Shut up, come on, we’ve no time. Find your captains and get them to start pushing the death eaters back. If we get most of your men back from the front line and give them a bit of a rest they should be okay. With any luck we can have this sorted by tonight. It’s far too cold and rainy to want to have to stay out all night.”

Ron grinned but didn’t reply and ran off to find his captains and get the men moving.

“How’s it going?” asked a voice behind her then.

“Severus!” she hugged him. “Ron’s got the men moving and the reinforcements have mostly relieved those at the front. We should be able to start the push soon.”

“Good, Harry and Tonks are at more or less the same point. But Poppy’s arrived. She asked me to find you.”

“Poppy? What for?”

“There’s more wounded than she can care for and men are dying needlessly. And since you’re the best medi-witch here she needs your help.”

“What? She needs my help or you want me not to fight.”

“Me? Tell you what to do? Never!” he said but looked a bit sheepish. “Okay so I don’t want you fighting, but she could really do with the help!”

“Fine I’ll humour you this once,” she gave in. “But just once okay? Let Ron know where I am so he doesn’t panic will you?”

He nodded and kissed her nose before apparating back to his men. She shook her head after him, “Honestly!”

Severus had been right about one thing. Poppy was run off her feet. Even with the three helpers she had there was more to do than they could reasonably manage.

“I’ve come to help,” said Hermione simply.

“Oh thank GOD!” cried Poppy fervently. “Finally someone who knows what they’re doing and I don’t have to supervise. You don’t know how much I need your help.”

“I can imagine. Where do you want me?”

“Over by the great Oak tree, I haven’t managed to get to any of them yet. Helen, go with Hermione and help her.”

Helen was a young, skinny, rather scared looking witch. Her hands were covered in blood so she’d clearly been doing something to help which Hermione took as a good sign. “Come on, let’s go and see the damage.”

There were about twenty people under the tree at the moment. Three were already dead and Hermione quickly sized up the condition of the others. Worst injuries would have to be treated first. She went straight to a slight young man with long black hair and a great gaping wound across his head. His right arm was mangled and one look told Hermione that it was too far gone to cure even if she’d had the right potions. His eyes were vague and he slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Helen what potions do you have in that bag?” Hermione asked then.

The girl didn’t answer, she looked slightly green. “I know him…” she stammered.

Hermione’s look softened, “Give me the bag.” It was handed over, but the girl’s eyes never left the man’s face. Thankfully the bag was well provisioned and Hermione thanked heaven for small mercies. Seeing that Helen couldn’t function here she handed her two small blue bottles full of a simple healing potion. “Take this to those people with smaller wounds, it will ease their pain. Can you do any healing spells?”

“Simple ones, cuts and bruises, maybe broken bones if they aren’t too bad… I’ve not been learning long.”

“Okay, well deal with what you can.” She nodded reassuringly at her and turned her attention back to the wounded man before her. The head wound, although it looked awful wasn’t too bad, she quickly cleaned and sterilised it and stitched it up with quick spell. All around her echoes of the battlefield sounded, mingling with the moans of the wounded. It constituted a miserable situation. After the head wound had been fixed the man before her began to regain some semblance of coherence. “What happened?” he asked groggily.

“You were in the battle, you’ve been injured, lie still while I tend you.”

“Barry, where’s Barry?”

“I don’t know, please lie still, I need to fix your arm.”

“Promised I’d look after him…Scared…Promised…”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” said Hermione reassuringly as she numbed the shoulder and upper arm.”

“No, no…not fine…battle,” his words were getting weaker and he hovered on the brink of unconsciousness again.

“Okay, I need you to listen to me for a minute, you’re arm is damaged, I have nothing here to fix it with and if I leave it it will kill you, do you understand?”

He nodded weakly, “Terry,” he said.

“Pardon?”

“It’s my name,” he said and passed out.

Gritting her teeth Hermione gripped her wand a bit tighter and severed his arm from elbow down, cauterising the wound as she went to prevent blood loss. Then she strapped it up for him, gave him some potion to ease any other pain and moved on to the next person.

The battle went on and on. All day the Order of the Phoenix battled the death eaters, trying to push them back beyond the edge of the gorge. Hundreds died on both sides and the endless stream of wounded kept Hermione and Poppy on their feet. It had been a depressing job, with too few helpers many had died that could have been saved and Hermione was now bone weary, and covered in blood and gore that was not her own. But nothing was working. If anything there seemed to be more death eaters now than there had been when they started.

In desperation Dumbledore had sent for aid from the south where they could ill afford to remove men from. But still men came. Thousands now fought and died in the gorge. The first day had passed in a haze of despair. Second day had been lifted with the coming of the reinforcements from the south. Third day, weary men thought longingly of sleep, a rare thing at the moment. Soldiers and generals alike were lucky to get two hours before starting again. It seemed an impossible task. The death eaters weren’t moving back and the order refused to give up such an important passage. Almost it felt like they would be stuck so forever, locked in immobile conflict until the end of days.

By the fifth day Hermione was ready to give in. She felt sick of the sights before her, men and women maimed and disfigured, scarred for life despite her best efforts. Death and decay around her. Only a few metres away was the pile of corpses that no-one had time to bury properly, and so they lay open to the sky and the carrion birds and creatures that now feasted on their flesh. She hadn’t seen Severus for days and only knew that he was still alive because Ron had been brought in with a broken arm and carrying a man with ruined legs and had told her that he was fine.

Wearily she pulled herself up from the half rotten log that she had sat on to take what meagre lunch she could and turned back to face the endless stream of wounded being brought for her to tend. It seemed amazing that there was anyone left to fight at the front. Helen was working on some minor wounds and Poppy was tending people with serious injuries, which left burns to her. She had given up on trying to get help out of Helen; it was just as easy to let her deal with the minor injuries so that the men could get back to the battle. Besides the poor girl was no good with the serious wounds, she just got too upset.

It began to rain, on and on the day went. Soaked and covered in blood once more Hermione longed for an end, to the day, to the battle, to the whole stinking war. This was no way to live, to see your friends blown apart and maimed. To live in constant fear of your life and the lives of those you loved. To have to raise your children to know blood and death and decay. She thought of Harry and Cho and the baby they were expecting and dared to hope that it would all be over by the time the baby was born.

It was funny how the mind worked, the more horrific things you were forced to see the more your mind wandered. She began to find that she could be tending a wound perfectly but be thinking about the wonderful day that she had found out Severus loved her, or her twenty-first birthday party, or how excited she had been as a girl when her mum had got her a bike for her birthday.

A loud explosion ripped the air a great flash of fire leaped up high. Those well enough to walk and fight started to their feet and ran back to the battlefield to see what had happened. Hermione’s heart was in her throat. What had happened? Which side had caused that horrible explosion? Was Severus okay? And Harry and Ron? A fresh panic in her heart she set about tending the people around her, trying not to picture her friends lying dead.

* * * * * *

Draco Malfoy, Keria and Jai’mea lounged in the great black tent in the centre of the death eater’s camp while Voldemort paced.

“What’s taking so long?” he demanded irritably.

“They’ve brought up reinforcements from the south My Lord which we had not anticipated, but my father assures me that they cannot hold out much longer. They are tiring and we are frequently coming up against wounded men now rather than fresh reinforcements. They cannot last much longer.”

“I hope for your sake you speak the truth Draco,” Voldemort snarled.

Draco shuffled nervously. He had been fighting all day and had bored of it now, returning for some rest and recuperation and possibly the always agreeable company of Keria. Just the thought of her creamy white body had been enough to distract him as he was fighting. He had returned to find her and put a stop to his daydreams before being cornered by his master and made to keep him company in his irritability. Keria smiled, sensing his thoughts.

“That’s rude,” she whispered in his ear.

“What is?” he murmured back.

She spread her arms apart slowly ran her leg down his. “I can see you picturing this,” she breathed.

“How do you always know what I’m thinking? It’s disturbing stop it!”

“I can read you like a book Malfoy,” she whispered, tracing patterns on his back with light fingers. He shivered and shuffled uncomfortably.

“Stop it,” he chided. “This is hardly the place.”

She grinned wickedly at him but didn’t stop. He looked appealingly at Jai’mea. Normally she would have just left him to his suffering, but their banter was giving her a headache and she had better things to do than listen to them so she came to his aid.

“My Lord,” she purred, “All this worry is no good for you. Everything’s going smoothly we’ve been assured so why not retire and relax for a bit?”

He grinned and pulled her up off the couch. “Yes perhaps you’re right, besides if we stay here too long Mr Malfoy may no longer be able to contain himself, and I don’t think I’m really up to that sight today.” He smirked at Draco and swept out if the room.

“Alone at last,” purred Keria.

“Not here…” said Draco looking round worriedly.

“Our Lord told no-one to disturb him, no-one’s going to come walking in.” Then with surprising strength she pushed him backwards on to the couch and straddled him. “So…about those daydreams…” she smirked and kissed him fiercely.

They lay for some time afterwards in their own sweat, discarded robes tangled about them. Draco’s lips curled up in a self-satisfied smile as he ran his hands up and down the body of the woman atop him. Suddenly a loud explosion sounded.

“What was that?” asked Keria starting.

“Nothing,” smirked Draco, “Everything’s going according to plan.” With that, and without any explanation he dropped the subject and rolled Keria on to her back. “My turn!”