1088 Clash of the Titans Ⅴ

The lower depths of the Ministry of Magic are made of dark stone and dimly lit by torches. There are no pictures on the wall or any matter of decorations. The air is bleak and forbidden. The Department Head of Magical Enforcement Elphinstone Urquhart anxiously paces before the sealed chamber of the Wizengamot having relived Dorcas Meadows and sent her on another errand.

Abruptly the doors of the chamber slam open to reveal the Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore. His child-blue eyes are not jovial but blazing and solemn behind his half-moon spectacles. His long silvery hair and beard have been firmly tucked into his belt. His robes are unusually solemn and despite his age, his magic feels powerful and imposing.

Elphinstone Urquhart is unable to say anything and merely steps aside as Albus Dumbledore sweeps out of the chambers. The widow's peak on Elphinstone's brow deepens as he turns towards the Minister of Magic Eugenia Jenkins. "Minister," he begins to say but is cut off by her hand gesture.

"We will speak later, Urquhart," Minister Jenkins firmly declared unable to hide the worried expression on her face.

"Yes, Minister," Elphinstone said, before following Minister Jenkins back to the Minister of Magic's quarters.

As the two of them hurry away behind them in the rising benches of the chamber, the seated members of the Wizengamot remain in their plum-colored robes that have an elaborate silver letter-W engraved on the left-hand side of their robes.

"Well, that was most melodramatic," drily remarked the elderly, Tiberius Ogden.

"A goat Patronus, most unusual," murmured, the very elderly, Madam Professor Griselda Marchbanks. "Hmm, and that voice even sounded rather familiar too."

"Indeed," Elphias Doge loudly coughed hunched over even further causing his bald, spotted head to gleam in the light. Then again, he had recognized the voice as belonging to Albus's brother, Aberforth. And though he and Aberforth did not see eye to eye, frankly never had, he also knew that Aberforth would never lie about such things to Albus.

"What I would like to know is who was so kind enough to deliver such an urgent message," rumbled, the gravel voice of Albert Runcorn. Standing six feet tall, with powerfully built broad shoulders with a neatly trimmed black beard, Albert Runcorn is an imposing wizard.

"The Ministry of Magic should acknowledge this hero for the sake of our citizens as a shining example to others," Albert Runcorn warmly said, however, the warmth of his tone does not reach his icy dark eyes.

"Hear, hear," echoed several members of the Wizengamot in agreement.

Elphias Doge loudly blew into a handkerchief and sniffed. "Well, we ought to go see what is going on." Grumbling to his feet, he stopped to help the even more elderly Madam Professor Griselda Marchbanks, who waved off his hand.

Madam Professor Griselda Marchbanks might have been Elphias and Albus's O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examiner, but she could still get up and walk by herself thank you very much! These young folks shouldn't be trying to put her in the grave that much sooner!

With the atmosphere disrupted, the Wizengamot begins to disperse. Albert Runcorn maintains a civil disposition despite his annoyance at being interrupted. Still, his plan had succeeded, and he had been able to effectively tie Albus Dumbledore up for a time. If Voldemort still not could succeed without the interference of Dumbledore, then it was time to look for an alliance elsewhere.

While the troops rally, the battle continues in Hogsmeade. The battle has mostly dispersed as students and villagers flee and the Death Eaters begin to give chase through the village. The train platform is largely empty except for the wounded who have been abandoned and the dead.

"It seems that you are more troublesome than you are worth, Rowan Prince," Voldemort hissed in parseltongue.

Sensing that Voldemort is tired of playing around, Rowan is about to teleport away and closes her eyes to open her mapscape. A horrible weakness, but one that she could not avoid. However, something stops her from doing so as she spots a hurtling figure rapidly approaching them.

Taking a gamble, Rowan opens her eyes and does not teleport away as planned.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort screeched.

However, before the Killing Curse can ever reach Rowan, the spell is halted by a giant block of ice that erupts between them. The ice simply absorbs the killing curse causing Voldemort to furrow his brow in rage before his crimson serpent eyes widen in astonishment.

A white, albino Great Horned serpent at least 19 feet long hurtles threw the air towards him. "How dare you!" Hissed, the youthful voice of Nadira. "Depart from these lands, filthy snake speaker! They are under my protection!"

Nadira bares her teeth as gleaming silver-like ice daggers form from in the air and hurtle towards Voldemort and reign down upon the Death Eaters scattered through Hogsmeade. The Death Eaters instantly begin to defend, while others flee and apperate away.

Voldemort's crimson serpent eyes gleam with newfound interest. "My, my, Rowan Prince, if you are not full of surprises," he murmured in parseltongue, "taming a Great Horned Serpent, I am suitably impressed."

Rowan slightly stepped around the ice block keeping the ice block firmly between her and Voldemort. "I did no such thing," she firmly denied. "Nadira belongs to no one but herself."

"Nadira is it?" Voldemort said stretching his spider-like fingers to the serpent. "My apologies for not appropriately greeting you before, Great Horned Serpent."

"Broken serpent, depart from these lands," Nadira hissed in a warning for the final time. "I am the Guardian of Hogwarts, and I am sworn to protect the inhabitants of this land!"

Voldemort began to hear loud popping sounds signaling the arrival of the Aurors and allies. "We shall meet again, Nadira," Voldemort harshly vowed, before instantly apperating away.

"You should not have come, Nadira," Rowan quietly said in parseltongue. "I am certain that our enemy is here or was here. Surely the word of your existence will reach their ears."

"I wrestled with those same thoughts, protector," Nadira steadily replied. "However, I cannot ignore the pain and cries of those under my care. Young and weak, I may still be, but I will not stand aside and permit these heinous crimes to be committed within my presence."

Rowan sighed, before rubbing the top of Nadira's head, who happily flicked her tongue in the air. "There is much to be done, Nadira," she said turning towards the ruins.

Nadira arched her head proudly in the air, before darting into the sky and hurtling towards the still ongoing battle against the giants. She had much to do!

Rowan watches Nadira dart towards the Forbidden Forest, before turning her head to the nearest Auror. Senior Auror Alastor Moody's swiveling magical round blue eye stared directly at her. "Never thought I would see the day of a second parselmouth," he said in a thick Scottish brough. "Then again, the Prince's are legitimate descendants of Salazar Slytherin."

Rowan's face slightly relaxes at Moody's words, before tiredly sitting down on the ground. "I don't feel so good," she said, before turning on her side and hurtling the contents of her stomach. How embarrassing…

Yet Rowan is unable to think on it longer as she feels the suppressed Death Surge begin to swirl through her body and into her magic core. She had killed the Death Eater and now her magic is growing uncomfortably again. She would surely die if this occurred again during the battle.

"Not this again," is what Rowan thought in annoyance before losing conciseness and collapsing on her side next to the puddle of vomit. What an utterly undignified way to go…