Chapter 30

Four robed figures stood at the edge of Dartmoor forest, their eyes fixed upon the black smoke and wild fire that threatened to drown the land in its thirst. Black cloaked broom-riders flew across the lands, shooting spells and gusts of flames to destroy the tents below.

"Morgana…" Breathed out the captive one, her hands bound tightly with a thin rope that circled her wrist over a hundred times. "I didn't know they planned for this."

Stella, Harry had found out her name to be. Stella Cromwell, one of the most famous pure-blood families of America.

Or so she said.

"What did you think Grindelwald is here for?" Harry snorted. "Quidditch finals?"

"No, I just…" She stuttered. "This isn't…what they said will happen."

Shaking his head, he tugged at her ropes. "C'mon. We have work to do."

Fleur and Apolline followed silently, their eyes still stuck upon the burning lands. It was understandable. What laid in front of their eyes was an apocalyptic scene that could chill the most jaded of hearts.

The fire extended to all the levels—its fiery embrace enveloping the tents, player-posters, hanging-clothes, the wooden barricades, and anything else it came in contact with.

People were pouring out from the stadium like it were an inferi apocalypse, desperately crowding upon the various Apparition points. Some tried to salvage their tents, scurrying to save their things, but most simply wanted to escape.

None were able to. The apparition points were all shut down, while the level 7 tents—which had contained fireplaces—were thoroughly destroyed. Some of the crowd even sprinted down towards them, pushing past Harry and his group in hopes of escaping through the dark forest on foot, unheeding or uncaring of the moonless night.

Most though, aimlessly wandered in helpless urgency.

Screams of panic and fear were now taking over the hills, desperation and helplessness clawing at their hearts.

Harry's lips curled up in a grimace.

He could understand them. Truly, he could. The worst they'd always imagined had just come to pass, Grindelwald was here and looking for blood. It was easy to give into the panic.

And yet, he couldn't help but see them as stupid sheep that ran around mindlessly. It was the same thing the previous time. No sign of intelligent life was present in their minds, and no sign of resistance seemed to grow in their chest.

Even knowing the uselessness, he couldn't help but rage in his mind. 'Why the fuck are you all panicking!? This is what the enemies want! Stop, for once in your life, grow a spine and be useful!'

But he knew his people. He knew their mentality. And he had no time to rage on them, because his family mattered more.

With a last grimaced grunt, he pulled his prisoner along and started their journey upwards—towards the stadium.

They made their way through the maze of flaming tents, occasionally shooting spells to keep the fire at bay. However, his main focus was on guiding them forward while keeping an eye on their prisoner, so he couldn't quite defend himself when flaming splinters and kindling assaulted him, or when—more than once—his boots stamped through live fire. Thankfully, his Dragon-hide robes and shoes were fire resistant, so he was free to ignore them as much as he liked without the worry of burns or sears.

"They're targeting the crowd!" A furious whisper came from his prisoner.

He glanced where the woman was pointing and saw three cloaked figures streak past, diving low on the ground and launching killing curses amongst the people willy nilly, before escaping away with mocking laughter.

Most of the wizards were able to take cover—must've gotten used to the attacks—but some fell dead upon the ground, lifeless.

His heart angered at the sight but he'd sworn not to have his vision tunneled by it ever again.

So they moved. Stumbling up the Level 5 grounds, sometimes forced to duck down in the shadows to hide from the broom-riders.

Smoke was now rapidly covering the grounds, mixing with cold mist to limit their vision. The fire, while still spreading aggressively, was barely enough to light their passage.

"Where are your Aurors?" Apolline asked in frustration, covering their rear. "Where is ze security zat was promised?"

Harry frowned. "Probably dealing with Grindelwald."

But something didn't make sense. James had assured them of how tight the security would be this time. They even had the help of foreign Aurors. He had half expected things to be completely subtle this time, with Aurors and Hitwizards taking care of the matters before public could even become aware.

"Cut me loose, I could help." Stella whispered harshly, her eyes tracking the skies with righteous anger.

Harry snorted. "Right."

She opened her mouth to argue but Harry quickly dragged her to the side as a different group of riders bore down on their position. Fleur and Apolline took cover behind remnants of a destroyed tent as well, safe from the green flashes of spells that reaped a new round of casualties from the crowd.

But Harry's eye caught something shocking. A pale, skull shaped mask with reptilian eyes, covered the faces of these new enemies.

'Death Eaters!'

Hatred—unbridled and unconstrained—coursed through his veins, unable to be stopped by his passive Occlumency. Almost instinctively, his wand aimed at one of the three passing brooms and cast with deadeye accuracy.

'Crucio!'

The figure—taken as male from his low-pitched voice— wailed on his broom painfully in the most horrible of cries, his body jerking like a highly electrocuted patient. After the torture stopped, his body toppled down from the sky—unconscious from pain—disappearing down into the fire.

"Y-you killed him."

He didn't know which female whispered it, but he was aware of the two shocked—and one fearful, in the case of Stella—pair of eyes staring at him.

Harry rubbed his face, feeling hollow all of a sudden. "I've killed a lot of people today, haven't I?"

First the Delacour man, then those two Alliance members, and now a death eater.

'What? Getting soft now, Harry?' A dark whisper needled him.

"I fear you may have to kill some more, Mr. Potter." Apolline stated grimly, her shock disappearing in caution.

He glanced at her, before turning to stare where her eyes pointed. His stunt seemed to have gained the attention of his enemies. Not just the dead Death Eater's two partners, but even the rest of the cloaked riders came tearing through the night sky towards them.

This was the exact reason Harry and his group had been moving quietly: To not attract attention.

'How long did my promise to not act upon anger last?' He grimaced, though found he wasn't too bothered by it. Death eaters deserved all of his vengeance and more.

Just the sheer sight of them reminded him of everything he'd went through in the last life. Every struggle to survive, every injustice done, every loved one's death…all would come roaring back to the forefront of his mind. The dead itself would scream at him for vengeance, begging to be avenged, and Harry was more than happy to deliver.

Without actively occluding his mind, he found the deeply jaded monster that he'd become in the last days rearing its ugly head in his chest again.

"Let me free!" Stella struggled against her bonds, breaking his thoughts. "I can talk to them!"

Harry shook his head, walking forward. "They're Death Eaters, woman. They serve a different lord."

Of course, the fact that Death eaters were working with the Alliance was easy to see now. That was the only way they could've beaten the security.

A darker, more chilling realization that Voldemort and Grindelwald might also be working together born within him an instant later, but he quickly suppressed it for now. He will have time to ponder upon that later.

Gasps of shock went through the gathered crowd—who had come to surround him in awe—at his words, and they quickly scrambled away when they saw the dark figures riding through the night.

"Then cut me free, please!" Stella begged again. "I can help! I swear to god!"

With his eyes still on the soaring figures, he raised his wand and quickly started shooting. His spells were fast, reaching the sky in barely a couple of seconds. The Death Eaters were by no means professional fliers, and most likely did not expect the flashes of red; for before long another couple of dark figures were falling off of the skies.

The remaining ones wisely flew down.

"Fleur, Apolline, get ready." He called back at the two before moving towards their captive.

He looked her in the eye, and the grey pupils flushed with fear—and something more—though refused to look away. "I have no god."

With a swipe of his wand, he cut through the bonds. "But I have magic."

He took her hand and opened her palm, handing her wand back as she stood frozen. "So swear it. On your blood, like Krafft had."

She closed her fingers upon the wand and gave a determined nod, taking a deep breath.

By the time their enemies arrived—shearing a path through the crowd, killing and slaughtering, and sending them running—the oath was complete and Harry trusted her to guard his back. Well…for now.

They were ready.

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In the underground section of the stadium, Lily Potter and Bellatrix Black had all but lost any hope of finding one most troublesome young man; Harry Potter. Had it not been for the Stag Patronus to come and assure them of his safety, they would've most likely still been haunting the stadium's underground compartments for years to come.

While some simple assurances would usually not be enough to calm the thunderstorm of worry in their hearts, Grindelwald's presence made things desperate, forcing them to abandon the search and hope Harry would find them quickly…or perhaps just escape from the whole mess altogether.

In the meantime, the least they could do was to see to the safety of the remaining children.

It wasn't as if they were caught completely off-guard by the Dark Lord's presence of course. They'd made plenty of plans in the case of the most unfortunate event's occurring. It would've been foolish not to.

Thus, in no time, they were back to the surface and guiding a large group consisting of Weasleys, Tonks, Potters, Longbottoms, and a few of their Hogwarts friends, to the underground section of the stadium. The two women knew exactly what would be happening outside in public entrances, so they had planned ahead for this escape route.

The underground path joined the back entrance of the stadium, through which they would be able to exit and lead their group into the restricted ministry lands behind the stadium. While Grindelwald may have shut down the Apparition routes, he could do nothing about the Floo network that Ministry-officials (and Level 7 tents) had.

However, barely a third of the way away from their destination—when they were just out of the stadium and making way for the ministry tents—they were stopped short by Bella's twinkling telecard.

"Lily! Bellatrix!" The Minister's furious voice gonged through the group, spreading winces of pity as they all stared at the two suddenly anxious women.

Lily waved at Bella desperately, mouthing 'Tell her I'm not here!'

"I know you are there Lily, don't even try!" Lily winced at the Minister's angry bellow. "I need you two here, like, yesterday!"

Bella pushed the card towards Lily, urging her to talk, only to have it shoved right back.

"Where are you two!? We are about to be slaughtered!"

Bella cleared her throat. "We're leading a group of…helpless survivors to escape, Minister."

She became a target of multiple glares. Not least of them was Alice Longbottom, one of the 10 tested Level 6 duelers.

"We won't be long though." Bella finished with an awkward chuckle.

"Bella," Bones voice was now laced with grim desperation. "Voldemort is here. Along with Grindelwald and his group. We need you two. Now."

Stunned silence enveloped the group, and the adults had to hush their fearful—and a few daring and raring—children quiet.

Then, in a cold enough tone to send shivers down their spines—something no one would've expected from her—Lily spoke out, "If they are both together, then you are simply calling us to our deaths, Minister. I suggest you quickly take your leave and drag my husband along with you. Dumbledore will deal with the mess."

"No!" Amelia Bones snapped. "We will never get another chance like this! He's not in his full strength yet, but I fear that won't be for long. They're preparing a ritual, Lily. And if they succeed, you can be sure our relatively peaceful days are at an end."

In the moment of silence that ensued, both women grim-faced and hesitant, Alice Longbottom spoke up. "It's fine. I know which tents have a Floo network. I can lead us there, and we don't need any guards. You really have nothing to worry here."

"We may not be Aurors, but we can defend ourselves, you know." Andromeda Tonks said with wary amusement.

"Oh, very well then." Bella grasped Lily and began dragging her to the stadium's back entrance. "We're joining you now, Minister. You lot take care!"

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There were eight of them, all cloaked with wide flowing black robes and faces covered by Death Eater masks that no two shared the same. They sauntered over slowly, spreading out through the crowd who drew away at the sight—still over a hundred meters away—to surround them from 3 sides, their gait confident and arrogant.

Harry itched to start casting and lay them low, but with Occlumency now actively running on the forefront of his mind, he stayed still as a stone, controlled and coiled in—ready to let loose anytime he wished.

Once the crowd thinned out, and he was sure they wouldn't be accidentally murdering civilians, Harry surged forward with a single order to his companions. "Attack."

And they did.

Picking their targets from the eight, they started casting. Harry chose the one wearing the most intricately crafted mask.

His opponent, just as overconfident as Krafft, found himself without an arm when Harry's first Reductor cracked apart his shield, and the following Sectumsempre hit him right in the left shoulder.

Harry didn't stop to finish him, already turning aside from a killing curse and returning fire with a Bone-breaker, before being forced to dance away as two masked wizards targeted him specifically, grouping up to put pressure on him.

This fight was quite different from all the ones he'd had today. There was not an 'us' vs 'them' here. They didn't have the luxury of fighting in a single direction, against a single group of opponents. This fight was more 'us' vs 'everyone else' as spells came from all around them, except from their back.

Yet, that too soon proved wrong and he barely managed to duck down a wild stunner, letting it soar past him. Glancing back, he saw a new squad of Death Eaters aiming at them from behind, coming at them from between the parted crowds.

"Where did they come from?" Harry asked his companions, all of whom were stuck in the similar situation.

"They were patrolling the other entrance." Stella answered him, a thin sheen of sweat trailing down her brow as she came to cover his back. "Maybe they recognized you."

Now spells started to come from all sides, but with an Auror-level ally defending his back, Harry was free to deal with the irksome bunch in the front, casting at a breathtaking speed and sending large showers of spells every couple of seconds.

The speed of his casting and sheer power of his spells was such that all 6 opponents—one taken down by Apolline—were forced to turn their full focus upon him.

Beside him, Fleur and Apolline stood back to back as well, with Fleur facing the same side as him.

And she seemed to know exactly what to do, taking advantage of their harried opponents to pick them off one by one whilst Apolline defended her back. Her spells favored fire the most, and in no time one of the 6 remaining Death Eaters at their side was set ablaze—abandoning the fight to run around in panic like a headless chicken.

The opponents turned their attention to the girl then, taking her as the greater threat, and paid an even heftier price when Harry managed to land a perfect transfiguration spell right underneath one pair. The land turned to caltrops; sharp and metallic—piercing deep into two pairs of feet, and sending the couple of Death Eater down on their knees in howls of agony.

The remaining three could do nothing but fall victims to Harry's second most lethal spell-chain—his power simply too high to defend against, even for them working together—one died from a nasty Entrails-expelling curse that created the most gruesome sight of this battle—indeed, seeing someone (even enemies) vomit out their intestines was not a sight for weak hearted—while the other two took Bone-breakers right to the head, dying a much more cleaner death.

Just in time as well, for their two partners were stuck in a precarious position. There were only five opponents at Stella and Apolline's side, and it was clear to them by now that for all their numbers, these Death Eaters were barely level 4 in dueling skills.

Normally, Stella and Apolline would've surely managed to deal with the bunch, but their task as defenders tied them up too much.

Especially as the whole lot of the masked bastards were able to cast the unforgivables, something that Stella and Apolline could not dodge without risking their partner's—who were standing right behind them—death.

So they were forced to absorb the pressure and be on the defensive.

The moment Harry and Fleur turned around however, the tide shifted completely to their favor, and in no time five more bodies joined their brethren on the ground, though with only one dead—curtsey of Harry—while the others were stunned and bound by the females.

Harry was eager to move on, but let his group recuperate from their exhaustion first. All three of them had seen almost as much action as him today, and they didn't have the luxury of an enhanced body.

The Delacours may have joined the fight in the middle, but they'd experienced their own share of demons as well. Harry still wasn't completely aware of the business with the male Delacour, and swore to get the full story out when this was all over.

"C'mon." Harry beckoned after a few minutes. "We need to reach the stadium. This will all be over soon."

Or so he hoped.

It was a false hope, though he did not know so now.

How was he to know, that this was all just the beginning?

How was he to know, that the tune of magic has changed? No longer calm, it sang of blood and destruction; it sang of war.

And it would soon encompass the entire wizarding world. The song of magic has changed; for now it attuned….

The Rhythm of War.

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AN: Aaaaand done! Finally! God I've been working so much on this chapter, haven't slept properly for the past couple of days (due to missing the word count in day 1). Hopefully it was worth it.

Well, its all coming together now. The final stand, the big fight, the main dose of action, you'll get all that and more in the next couple of chapters. There are just two more left in this arc now (apart from aftermath and stuff).

Well, let me know if you enjoyed!

Also, fun fact: Preet Pigwetter is an anagram of Peter Pettigrew. I was slightly weirded out by how normal 'Pigwetter' seems in HP world. When I first formed it, I thought it was overly ridiculous, even though I was going for something humorous from the start. Now though, it seems quite alright lol.

Last, a massive thnx to all the support the last chapter received. Appreciate it all.

My discord: discord .gg/9wpfysDGsz to discuss fics and chill.

My Pat reon: www. Pat reon com/ Robs511 (No spaces and a dot before com) for anyone who wants to read upto the next three chaps of all my fics.

Anyway, that's all for today.

Take care and have fun, I'll see you lot in the next chapter, which will drop on 23.

Peace!

P.S: If you notice any inconsistency between povs, do let me know.