Harry Potter and the Unlikely Gryffindor

Light and dark battled in the sky as it did on the ground. Between small shops and large stores, in large courtyards and small verandas and through darkened windows the play of light danced this way and that as hexes, curses and jinxes of all types zoomed through the empty spaces. Sometimes they would hit nothing more than brick or bush. Other times they struck trees and those taking shelter behind them would have to flee or be crushed by the trunk as it was blown from its roots. And still other times, they would hit their target and leave wizard or witch either unconcious, tied tightly in chains, or lifeless on the concrete. And above it all, as though paying silent witness to the battle below, floated the Dark Mark the serpent twisting itself this way and that into intricate knots.

The U.S. Wizarding Forces had sent a good two dozen or so Aurors, as many as they could spare. And yet they were still at a draw, neither gaining or losing ground but trying desperately to keep themselves and the children fighting with them alive. The Aurors were trained for situations like these. The students however, were trained for straight out face to face duels. They hadn't the nerve for springing from their hiding places and casting wordlessly under pressure and slipping back into the shadows again. There were some who were holding their own with a variety of clever hexes that would not only leave the Death Eaters incapacitated, but in a rather... compromising situation. Others were trying their best to blend in with their surroundings and wish they were anywhere but in the middle of the fight of their lives.

Jenkins couldn't blame them. They were barely able to preform magic outside of school. Some of them were probably old enough to be taking their N.E.W.T.s this year. But all of them were scared out of their wits. Jenkins was frightened, as well. America had it's share of rotten witches and wizards, and some of them were as bad as they came. These people however, they enjoyed cutting down children. They took a particular pleasure watching the lights leaving their eyes as they sighed their last breaths. But as time went on, it became obvious to the Major that there were less and less spells being thrown at them. He felt a momentary surge of triumph, but he was too seasoned to let this blind him from what was really happening.

They were being played with the oldest trick in the book. They were completely exposed on their rear and these Death Eaters were taking advantage of this, sending half their number behind to cut them down. Jenkins looked down at the young Ravenclaw girl beside him, watching as her breath hitched with her tears. It was not right to ask her to fight, but if she did not she would join her classmates in the grave. He bent low to the girl, putting his hand on her shoulder. "How good are you at Transfiguration?" The girl was so shocked by the benign nature of the inquiry that she forgot she was crying.

"Good enough to get an Outstanding on my O.W.L." Jenkins smiled at the way she lifted her nose in haughty pride. This he could work with.

"Try something with those two Oak trees over there. Something that would crush anything coming between them," he suggested, patting her on the shoulder. The young girl seemed to falter as she understood the reason for the request. But self-preservation won out and she pointed her wand at the point where the two trees branches twined together, her face set in concentration. The half dozen or so Death Eaters walking from between the two arbors had nothing to warn them that their ambush was about to be countered. All they saw were thousands of long wooden spikes as they seemed to sprout from the bark and catch the dark wizards in their maw. Jenkins had to admit he was as impressed as he was horrified. The girl repeated the jinx all around them until there was no way in or out but to blast the wooden fence and risk exposing your flank.

"Nice work, erm, I didn't catch your name," he asked, taking advantage of the momentary break in the fighting to rest his mind. The young woman wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, sniffling softly.

"Cho Chang," she answered softly, threatening to start crying again at any moment. "How did you know where to find us?"

The question was fair, Jenkins supposed. "The mother of one of your classmates gave our commander an ear full about dark wizards attacking a wizarding school. I think he sent so many of us here just to shut her up. We followed the fires and ended up here. Apparently this is as far south as these Death Eaters as you call them, have traveled. London is further south of here, isn't it?"

The raven-haired girl nodded, her nose red and puffy. "Yes, that is were the Ministry of Magic is. Do you think they are going there?" Cho was on the verge of crying again. She started wringing her hands on her wand as though she could choke it. "Oh, this is so awful!" And that was all it took for Cho to burst into tears again, her head in her hands. Crying women were one of the top items on Jenkins' list of things to stay away from, and this girl could cry at the drop of a hat. What was worse, was that now she was clinging to his arm, crying into his sleeve. He sent a thankful prayer up to heaven that his wife was never like this. Even when she was pregnant she was never this weepy.

Jenkins sighed and after some struggle, managed to wrench his arm from Cho's grasp. The dark wizards pinning them in were thinking better of their situation and backing away at lightening speed. Jenkins allowed himself a sigh of relief as he checked everyone around him. Thankfully, only a few had been hit with anything more than a stupification hex. They would recover in time, though the dead were another matter. He pulled his second-in-command over; a rather short, balding man with a long face. Jenkins whispered something into his ear, and the Lieutenant was off in the direction of the cellars the Muggle inhabitants of the town were using as a shelter. They may not be able to take their dead with them, but at least they would be treated with respect. And hopefully with the sun just beginning to peek over the eastern horizon, these people would be able to put out the fires that had burned all night long.

****

Harry was laying on the cold ground, his legs and arms spread out as though Dudly had just hit him with a left hook. Ron was on his feet, his face as red as his hair. Hermione looked as though she could not descide whether to be shocked or amused. Ginny was silent, glancing to Harry for less than a second before blushing bright pink and looking down at the ground again. Hera was actually cracking a smile, Lupin was trying hard not to laugh, and Snape was deadly serious.

All in all, Hera surmised, besides the cold ground, bad biscuts, low fire and the rumbling of her stomach; this was just like any other day. Which did not do at all because this was not just any ordinary day. Today was Christmas Day. And the day that Remus Lupin had casually suggested that the two couples quietly eating get married! Ron had jumped to his feet faster than if someone had told him that the Quidditch World Cup was being played over his head. Though he was now mumbling something no one could quite understand as he just stood there, blushing as red as his sister. Hermione spoke first. "I see your logic, Professor Lupin, but... well... " she seemed to falter at this point, twirling her hair around her finger so tightly that it came out straight. "Are you sure this is the only way to keep ourselves out of Azkaban? Not that marriage should be entered into soley on those grounds," she quickly added, tugging on Ron's pant leg to get him to sit back down.

Remus sighed. "I know that Hermione," he managed in his most patient tone, "but it is hard to miss that you and Ron, as well as Harry and Ginny are in love. That is the first step, I believe." Remus could not say for sure, because he himself had never been married. "You are also great friends. And as your friend, I do not want you to pass up any chance to be happy."

Harry lifted is head, straightening his glasses from across his nose. "We would need a minister. Where would we get one on such short notice? That is if we descided to get married at all..." he quickly added after watching Ginny's face pale. Ginny's cheeks went right back to rosy pink, her eyes still not meeting Harry's. It was true that she had dreamed of this day since she was a little girl, jumping up and down to get a good look at The-Boy-Who-Lived as the Hogwarts Express steamed out of the station. But dreaming about it and having it thrust upon her were two very different things. Not that she didn't love Harry. She loved him quite a lot. And she had been sleeping in his bed in the Head Boy's dorm for most of the year. Though they had never gone any further than kissing. Both were scared to death of, as Hera had put it once; 'going all the way'.

Hermione on the other hand had come to the same conclusion a little on the slow side. She and Ron had clashed like cold water on hot steel. The fireworks were almost never ending when the two of them were in the same room together. But lately he had kept most of the fireworks in the form of playful banter. It seemed that over the summer, her stubborn Ronald had losened up a bit. At least where Hermione was concerned. He still got up in arms when he saw Ginny sitting close to Harry. He dared not say anything because of Ginny's threat at the beginning of the term. Hermione found his protectiveness endearing. Up to a point. He could still get on her nerves when he tried to make sure that no other boys were looking at her. Hermione couldn't have cared if the entire hall had been filled with Victor Krums, she still would have had eyes only for Ron.

Ron sat down finely, after Hermione's fifth tug on his trouser leg. He let her ask all the questions. Hermione was the smart one, always asking the right questions and getting the right answers. She more than made up for him and Harry as they lost house points left and right. Mostly to Snape, who was staring at him at this moment with the most pecular half sneer, half smile on his face. Hermione was his rock, that stable place he could look to for reason and logic to think his way out of any situation. If ever he had a question, Hermione either knew the answer, or knew of a book that did. Ron and Hermione seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same instant, their eyes meeting. What ever happened, for better or worse, there would never be a dull moment in their house. Ron actually found himself with the silliest grin on his face, mirroring Hermione's more conservitiave smile.

Harry sat back with his hands holding him up. It was true that he had only pulled his head out of the clouds a year and a half ago concerning Ginny. He had been interested in Cho for over a year before they ever went out, but in the end she was just too unstable for him. Ginny was sweet, with a good head on her shoulders. She reminded Harry of her mother. He had always liked Mrs. Weasley. She was always quick with a kind word, and mothered over Harry like one of her own. It showed that she liked him when she did not hex him into a knot when she had caught them kissing in Ginny's room the day before they were to leave for Hogwarts. Though she had given Harry her sternest warning she reserved for the twins. They were not to do anything more than kiss until the had been properly married. Not a minute before.

That was just fine with Harry, since he knew it would take more than a minute to do anything else. And Ginny was sensible enough not to press the matter. That was what attracted Harry most of all to Ginny. Her sensibility, kindness, her almost motherly aura and the way she played Quidditch. Hell, she could burn everything she tried to cook and he would still love her till the day he died. Harry smiled, sitting up beside Ginny and nudging her with his elbow. "Your mother did say..." he was cut short, however when Ginny gave him a playful slap on the arm.

"Harry James Potter!" She exclaimed between giggles. "Am I to understand you want to marry me just to get into my knickers?" Ron nearly choked, too shocked to do anything more than stare dumbly. Lupin on the other hand had fallen onto his back, howling with laughter. Snape's mouth only twitched, though he did notice that Hera had a grin plastered on her face. Severus had to admit, she was beautiful when he could see all the way to her wisdom teeth.

****

The halls of the Ministry of Magic were quiet and still. Only a few witches and wizards walked its halls, most were healers sent by St. Mungos to tend to the children. A few of the children had been sent to the hospital for mental trauma but most were well enough to spend the night inside the Ministry's protected halls. All the students had been moved back into the entrance hall where all the fireplaces were crackling with warm fires. There were wizards stationed at every fire in case someone tried to come through, but no one had. After the commander of the American Aurors had informed everyone that he would send all he could, the Ministry had yet to see another visitor.

Cecilia Thomas sat in the corner, laid back in a rocking chair. In her lap, covered by a blanket lay little Lilith Jacobs. The small first year Slytherin had her head on the Muggle woman's shoulder and was fast asleep as were most of the other children sleeping on the floor. Cecilia had softly sung a lullaby she had often sung to Hera when she was a child. It was an old song. Legend told that it had been passed down from the Inca and its words were magic meant to chase away fears and lull the frightened into sleep. Cecilia had not put much stock in magic before. After seeing and knowing all that she had though, she could not dismiss the idea that there may have been some magic in those words. After all, her ancestors were steeped in it.

She smiled down at the fair haired little girl sleeping on her shoulder. Cecilia missed this. She missed rocking her little girl to sleep, missed holding a child, missed the absolute trust and faith conveyed when her daughter had fallen asleep in her arms. Her sons had yet to bless her with grandchildren to spoil. Oh, how she looked forward to that day. Cecilia smiled as she finely drifted off to sleep, comforted by her husbands soft snores a few feet away. The entrance hall stayed this way for several hours. The charmed windows had streamed sunlight into the quiet hall for at least an hour before the rattle of metal disturbed the silence. The elevator from the telephone booth descended slowly, its doors sliding open.

Out stepped an average looking wizard with brown hair and eyes. He was followed by several Hogwarts students, many of whom looked as though they had survived hell itself. The wizard found the nearest person of authority, and demanded to see the Minister. Apparently the Minister of Magic was held up with important business, because this representative denied the request with a shake of his blond head. "You get me in to see him this instant," the Major used his deadliest tone he could muster. "because in less than an hour this entire city will be crawling with Death Eaters!" The Ministry Representative looked over the Major's shoulder as more students and Aurors came in through the elevator, some of whom looked bad off. He seemed to think better of himself, and motioned for the American to follow him.

Those students found friends and house-mates and reunited in huge group embraces. When all were through the elevators, the car was locked down. No one would be able to get in or out that way for the near future. Some of those who had just arrived wanted nothing more than to just sink down on a soft blanket and go to sleep. And that is what most did, just ignoring their friends questions and closing their eyes. Two of those students pulled themselves away from their own houses, finding a quiet corner to just sit and think. Though for a long moment, neither Neville nor Luna could find anything to say. They seemed content to just sit there and lean on each other. "Luna?" Neville asked when he had collected his thoughts. "What did it sound like, you know... when you heard your mum's voice?"

Luna sat there for several moments silently. Neville opened his mouth to repeat himself when Luna spoke up. "It sounded like the voices behind the veil when we were in the Department of Mysteries." She trailed off, leaning her head on Neville's shoulder. "It sounded like when Mum would talk to me while she was working. She would whisper in this reverent voice, like she were talking in a church." Neville nodded, remembering the last time he had visited his parents.

"My mum talks like that," he said quietly, sighing. "When I visited them in St. Mungo's before this year started. She started reading from the Quibbler last time. It has been a long time since I've heard her laugh. I could almost see who she was before..." he stopped there, watching as their fingers twined around each others. The two sat quietly as the hall settled down again, watching as the American wizards bustled around. Neville watched as the 'sun' in the charmed windows started its journey over the sky, wondering how the Muggles above were faring. The news agencies had been warned and were even now telling their viewers to stay inside or use shelters of any kind to avoid the danger.

Around noon, a delicious smell started wafting through the Ministry. Apparently Cecilia had found the kitchens and started cooking Christmas Supper. She had baked traditional Equidorial treats for the children. She started passing around grape salad with a mayonnaise, cream and cocount dressing. The food was sweet and tart and had a spicy tingle to the first taste but filled the belly with warmth. Along with the cookies and puddings the smell of roasting turkey made the entire Ministry seem almost, not quite but almost like home. Cecilia started homemade caramel candies and made sure, like the mother she was that everyone got at least one candy. She seemed to even deputize the Aurors as her offical servers and charged them with the task of making sure that all the students were fed and comfortable.

The Muggle woman seemed to carry an awful lot of authority in the Ministry. Though it could be that the little woman held as much authority as Molly Weasley did when she was alive. In fact, Neville who had known the Weasley matron likened the woman to the late Weasley. Even her husband Harold was very similar to Arthur. He just sat back and let his wife have reign of the kitchen and the Ministry and even the Aurors. She ran the kitchens like she ran her home, like clockwork. There was a place for everything, and everything had its place and if someone threw that smooth running machine off, she was there to put it all back on track. She made it look effortless and it was no time at all that she had most of the children referring to her as Mrs. Thomas and coming to her to beg for more sweets. She was all to happy to give these children anything she had the power to give. Even some of the Slytherins warmed to her, though there were still more standoffish than the other students. There was still a status quo to maintain and they would not risk being the first to break it.

****

Ginny and Hera were quiet for most of the long journey back to London. They were shuffled around from Lupin to Snape and back again as they side-along apparated a dozen miles at a time. The travel was tiring, and for several minutes at a time the two wizards stopped to rest before apparating again. There weren't nearly enough brooms to carry them all on and there was no gurantee that they would not be spotted by Muggles or a dark wizard. If that happened they would have no where to run since Voldemort would know exactly where they had gone to. As they traveled east, the sun seemed to barely move in the sky giving the distinct impression that time had slowed just for them. Harry knew that this was all but impossible, but it was a heartening thought. At the very least it would still be daylight when they reached the Ministry.

All seven apparated at once, the air sliced by a loud crack that sent birds in every direction flying. Even though they had appeared near a large intersection, everything was quiet. Christmas this year was on a Friday and there should have been celebrants taking part in all the festivities hosted by the city and private interests. But there was nothing, not one single solitary person was on the street. Every business was empty and either had their shudders drawn or some other sign stating that they were closed. Homes in the suburbs that would normaly be bustling with extended family coming in from all corners of Britian, were quiet. All the cars that would have clogged the side streets and drives were no where to be seen. The Christmas lights that had been left on were almost eerie against the silence. Something had happened to put a stop to the festivities. Londoners were famous for carrying on in the face of danger, so this had to be something big for them to just pack up and leave.

"This is weird..." Hera's first words to the group pierced the silence, making the hairs on the back of Harry's head stand on end. They were only a couple of miles from down town London and the Leaky Cauldron. There they had hoped to use the Floo to get to the Ministry but now that plan was withering. If Muggle London was like this, they could bet money that Wizarding London was exactly the same. Ron peered around, wrinkling his nose.

"Do you smell that?" He sniffed again, this time sticking out his tongue. "It smells like...burning hair."

"Maybe someone tried to cook a whole pig?" Ginny tried to lighten the mood, but she was just as unnerved by the smell. What made the situation all the more strange, was that there was no smoke or fire anywhere. Not one single sign to indicate that something had happened. Just the smell.

"I remember when I was in Junior High," Hera started, holding her arms around herself to stave off the chill. "the orthadontist found an impacted tooth behind my molar. So they had to burn the gums off and chipped my jaw bone away to get to the tooth and hook a ring around it to straighten it." Ron and Hermione shared a painful look. "This is what it smelled like when they burnt my gums." Hera trailed off, slipping into silence again as she shivered. Even though the sky had cleared from the storm the previous night, the air was still chilly. It was still a vast improvement from where they had been, though all of them would much rather be near a warm fire, wrapped in thick blankets and eating good food.

The seven walked in silence for a few more moments. They were all tired, hungry and very dirty. As the minutes drug on, Hera seemed to fall back to the rear of the group, her steps shortening until she was shuffeling along. Her head was down so that no one could discern the extreme discomfort she was feeling. Her stomach was protesting to the food, apparation and all the stress she was under. She tried to limit her movement to perhaps prolong the inevitable. But in the end, all she could do was find a comfortable spot in the grass, and empty her stomach of everything she had eaten. Hermione held her hair back, rubbing her back as Hera coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. No one said anything as she just sat there, her eyes closed as she tried not to heave again.

But they could not stay and Lupin tried to bring Hera to her feet, but she flinched at the barest touch. She almost shrunk away from his hands, looking as though she were about to be sick again. The only two she would let touch her were Hermione and Ginny, and it took the both of them to help her to her feet. Lupin was puzzled by her behavior and looked to Snape for an explanation. But neither man knew what to make of her sudden shift. Harry and Ron were equally perplexed as they looked back at the three girls from time to time. The group tried to walk as quickly as they could through uptown London, passing small business and restrurants seeing the same empty buildings and closed shutters. The strange smell grew stronger the further they went into London, and soon it became apparent why.

Some of those who had fled the suburbs had obviously tried to enter downtown London. Several, however were not as lucky as the rest. What was left of the cars lay smoldering on the pedestrian walkways. But they had not been hit by another car, rather they looked as though the cars had just lost control and burst into flames. There was not much left, but the source of the horrible smell was evident. The passengers in the car had not had time to even unbuckle their seat belts as they were flash fried. That was why there was no smoke; the fire had died out so suddenly that no smoke other than a puff here and there could be seen.

Hermione and Ginny hurried Hera past the wreck, all putting as much distance between them and the burnt out car as possible. They were able to hear things now. Every now and again, they could just barely make out a word or two shouted followed by a loud crack or crash. The entire place became unnerving as the small buildings gave way to taller structures in the Victorian style all crammed together. They were near the Underground now, not far from Grimmauld place. Which would mean that the Leaky Cauldron was less than half a mile to the west. The seven sped up, robes swishing as they moved as fast as they dared to in broad daylight. The noises started again, this time louder. And now they could make out the voices. Most were male, and shouting as though they were afraid no one would hear them. "Stupify." "Incendio!" "Crucio."

Snape and Lupin glanced at eachother. That last spell was practiced only by Death Eaters. They ran as fast as their feet would carry them, but as soon as they got to the Leaky Cauldron, they knew they were in trouble. The building looked as though it had been ransacked. All the bottles and dishes were thrown on to the street outside the entrance. It was likely that it had only recently been raided but there was nothing of real value inside the small pub and inn except that it was one of the entrances to Diagon Alley. Lupin ventured toward the pub first, sneaking across the street and peeking inside. Even though the bar and tables looked as though they had been trashed, the fireplace was still intact.

Remus motioned for the others to join him inside. He pointed his wand at the floo and set a fire inside the fireplace. Down on the floor, half its contents spilled was a tin of floo powder. By the time the others joined him, Remus had most of the powder back in the tin. "Here, take this. It doesn't look like its been tampered with." Lupin kept his voice low, his eyes darting to the windows every so often. "Harry, you first. Take Hera with you." Harry nodded and took a handful of the powder, making sure that Hera was close to him.

"The Ministry of Magic," he threw down the dust, and spun out if existence in a plume of green flames. The rest followed as quickly as they could, the last spinning out of existence before a squat shadow fell across the door way.