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SIYE Time:2:40 on 29th March 2024
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After
By Senator of Sorcery

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Category: Alternate Universe, Asylum Challenge (2013-3), Asylum Challenge (2013-3)
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, All, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Lily Potter, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Other, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 105
Summary: *** Winner of Best Overall, Best Drama and the People’s Choice Award in the Asylum Challenge ***
*Nominated for 2014 April/May and November/December DSTA for Best Romance and Best Drama* *Nominated for 2016 January/February DSTA for Best Drama and Best Completed*

Ginny's plans for the weekend were just perfect: a day out in Hogsmeade with her girlfriends. Spend the morning window shopping and wishing, then lunch at the Three Broomsticks, and then to the local theater for a production of the Scottish Play (Macbeth).


Unfortunately, the bad luck of the Scottish Play strikes before it even starts. The village is invaded by Death Eaters, Dementors, and a man she had hoped to never see again in her life.


And in the middle of the battle, Ginny sees something she'd never thought she'd see. Voldemort and one of her greatest friends dueling; Harry Potter and Voldemort fighting so fiercely, she lost focus on her own battle. Harry Potter, crying out, falling, and hitting the ground. Dead.

And then, someone she never expected to help her saves her from Voldemort’s wrath.
Hitcount: Story Total: 167857; Chapter Total: 4391





Author's Notes:
I took forever with this chapter, I'm sorry. It's a bit short, but I hope it'll tide you over until I get my head back in the game. Well, maybe. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!




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*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*

Chapter Thirty-One
Eyes in the Back of His Head



Slowly, the red lines faded from their hands. Ginny let her fingers slip from his and fall back against her side. Harry swallowed his voice, because he didn’t know what to say now. Ginny stepped back and sank back into her chair. Bill scooted his chair closer to hers and put his arm around her shoulders. Harry nodded gratefully to him, then turned to face the rest of the room. He swallowed again nervously. They were all staring at him. He turned to McGonagall, his throat closed up.

The look in her eyes was remarkably like pity. She rose to her feet and put a hand on his shoulder.

“May I have all senior members stand and give Harry all the information they have,” McGonagall said. “We must gather together all our assets before we can form a plan.”

Kingsley stood up first and told Harry what he knew. It didn’t seem to be much. He gave him the names of every known Death Eater and those that were suspected to be members of the ranks. He told him how they had sent scouts to watch Hogsmeade and the comings and goings of the Death Eaters, how many were in the village, which of them were the bigger targets. Harry clenched his jaw to learn that Bellatrix was one of the Death Eaters stationed in the village, but released it when Kingsley mentioned that no one had seen Voldemort in a while.

When Kingsley finished, Professor Flitwick rose and explained what he knew about the wards around Hogsmeade, and about those around Hogwarts. He ended by congratulating Harry on the acid filled trenches surrounding the perimeter, and the thorns the size of men that rose twenty feet above the fencing. Harry’s neck flushed and he looked at his feet as Flitwick said this. Next stood Mad-Eye Moody, who gave Harry advice on when to attack, how best to do so, and who to bring. McGonagall thanked Moody, and they moved on.

The meeting continued with the members all giving Harry advice. Harry sat quietly while they spoke and thanked them when they finished, although his head was beginning to hurt and his eyelids were drooping. He glanced at his watch and his stomach rumbled. Ginny dropped her head onto his shoulder; he rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. The clock ticked past seven, and then past eight, and was nearing nine when the last senior member finished and took his seat again.

“Thank you,” Harry said, though he’d forgotten the member’s name. The man nodded shortly, and Harry looked around again and started turning every gear in his head.

“So, we have about four dozen Death Eaters in about seventy square miles,” Harry began, thinking aloud. “Most of them grouped in the main street, at the Three Broomsticks. We don’t know where Voldemort is, but we’ve got most of his biggest supporters in the village. They’ve got patrols going around the perimeter of the village, guards at the main entrance, changing every hour. All of this right?”

“Yes,” Moody grunted. Harry nodded slowly. He pondered a moment, then turned to McGonagall.

“Could you conjure a map table?” he asked. She nodded, and gave her wand a flick, muttering a spell under her voice. A large table appeared, then a map of the village on top of it. Harry stood, walked over it, and leaned on the edge. He chewed gently on the inside of his lip as he turned all the information over in his head.

“They’re sleeping in the Three Broomsticks, the Hog’s Head, and the Dragon Inn.” He pointed to each of these places on the map. “Do they guard the Shrieking Shack at all?” he asked, looking up.

“Not that we’ve noticed,” Kingsley answered. Harry nodded, turning his gaze back down on the map.

“How many people do we have that can fight?”

“There’s about thirty in the Order,” Flitwick piped up. “Twenty more came from the Ministry, and several parents are here for their students. We could call in other alumni and seventh year students to fight as well.”

“So about fifty to seventy?” Harry asked. Flitwick nodded. Harry looked back down to the map, frowning, as he looked it over.

“What if,” he started, “we split into four teams.” He conjured four little flags with his wand and started to set them out. “One team, the largest, goes through the passage from the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack. Teams two and three come in from the sides, and four comes in the main gate. We could come middle of the night when the most of them are asleep, and come quietly. Team one comes through quietly, then goes directly to the middle and makes as much noise as they can, startling everyone. When the Death Eaters flock together to fight the first team, the other three come in from behind.” Harry conjured more flags and placed them, marking the points with moving people.

“That’s a fair idea,” Moody said.

“We can call in the twins,” Ginny said, standing up and joining him at the table, “and have them bring their worst to use against the Death Eaters.”

“We could see if they’ve got any more portable swamps!” Harry said, grinning at her. “And the Wildfire Whizbangs could be modified into land mines.”

“Land mines?” Kingsley repeated.

“Bombs that go off when you step on them,” Harry explained. “And the Shield hats and cloaks, we could use them as extra protection.”

“They are pretty good,” Moody said. “We’re getting somewhere.”

Harry tapped the center of the map with his wand, and green ink spread over it, going around the buildings and seeping slowly. “The swamp should go right where there’s the most of them, and we’ll put our people on brooms so they can fly over it and get to the stuck Death Eaters. The bombs can go on the edges of the swamp, so any Death Eater that tries to get out will get a face full of fireworks.”

“The twins have some prototype shoes that let you walk on water,” Ginny said. “They’ve got about ten right now, but given the proper help, they could mass-produce more.”

“That’s brilliant!” Harry said. “We’ll have a chat with them and see just how much they can make for the attack in a few days.”

“What about a retreat plan?” Moody asked him in his gruff voice. “Or plan B?”

“Retreat plan…” Harry rolled the words around in his mouth, thinking it over. “We’ll buddy up; if your partner goes down, you get a broom and take them out of fighting, then you stay on the outskirts and make sure that no Death Eater gets out. Each time a fighter goes down, we’ll have a ward that lets the senior members know. If too many go down, we get on brooms and get the hell out of dodge.”

“Dodge?” Ginny said, frowning.

“It’s a Muggle expression,” Harry said.

“Do we have fifty to seventy brooms?” Kingsley asked.

“The school has about twenty for the use of students,” McGonagall said. “Most of the Quidditch players have their own, which totals to about forty.”

“Not enough,” Moody growled. “Don’t suppose those brothers of yours produce flying shoes, eh, Weasley?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Ginny said.

Someone in the back cleared their throat. Harry looked up, and saw a wiry brown-haired boy standing up. “My uncle’s friend’s with the bloke who runs Quality Quidditch supplies,” he said, “I could ask him to lend us some.”

“There’s an idea,” Harry said. “Is someone writing any of this down? I should write this down —”

“I have it, Harry,” Professor Sprout said quickly as she scribbled on a sheaf of parchment.

“Oh, good, thanks. Anyway, we’ll get a bunch of brooms and try to get at least one to each pair, and then the water-boot things, and attack at midnight.”

The Order members expressed acceptance of his plan. Harry looked down at the map as his thoughts bounced around his skull. He prayed that this plan would work.

“We should delegate the tasks,” Ginny murmured to him. He nodded quickly and glanced at Moody. Moody nodded as well and banged his staff for quiet.

“All right then,” he grunted, “I want everyone working on getting this plan put to action. We’ll split into teams later; for now, I want the castle’s defenses strengthened and supplies gathered. Flitwick, pick whoever you want to help re-enforce the wards. You, in the back with the broom friend,” Moody gestured to the man who had offered his uncle’s friend’s service, “you and me and Tonks here —” he jabbed a thumb at Tonks’ pink hair beside him — “are going to get those brooms in the morning. What’s your name again?”

“Stephenson, sir,” the man said. Moody nodded, his blue eye fixed on Stephenson’s face.

“Bill, you, Lupin, and Charlie come too and get your twin brothers and their swamps and bombs,” Moody added, his natural eye flicking to Bill’s face but the electric blue one staying fixed on Stephenson. Bill and Stephenson nodded. Moody’s natural eye turned to look at his magical one, and he muttered a curse. “Damn thing’s sticking again,” he mumbled. He raised his wand and with a muttered spell a glass appeared on the edge of the map table; Moody stuck his wand down in it and water sprouted from the tip. Once it filled, Moody reached up, and popped his magical eyeball out of his socket.

“Gross!” Tonks said, covering her own eyes. Moody prodded the eyeball; it whizzed around the glass and settled on Stephenson again.

“Shut it, Dora,” Moody grumbled. “Anyway, I’d like ten people to go watch Hogsmeade; five pairs of two. Who volunteers?”

No hands rose; until a woman in the back rose her hand hesitantly. Hers was followed by a reedy man in a tweed jacket, another woman dressed all in green, and a man with a thick brown beard.

“I need six more,” Moody said. Another hand rose; a man with a set jaw in the back leaned forward from his seat as he stuck up his hand. “Now five.”

Five final people volunteered, and Moody told them to report to Kingsley after the meeting. “Now, I want the rest of you to round up everyone in the castle that can fight and call in any favors you have to get your friends and family to help. We want this to be our last fight."

The group in the room agreed with murmurs and nods. Harry inhaled, glad for Moody's help.

"Well, get to it!" Moody barked. "Work until you're dead on your feet, then show up here tomorrow morning by seven; I want every inch of this castle combed, defended, and triple checked. And remember, constant vigilance!"

Those in the room scrambled to their feet and hurried from the room. The ten that had volunteered to watch Hogsmeade moved over to Moody, and he gave them quick instructions. Flitwick grabbed some from the crowd, then he and the other professors filed out with his helpers. Harry gripped Ginny's hand and watched them go. It was going to be a long night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*

Alastor Mad-Eye Moody stumped from the staff room, leaning heavily on his staff. He had sent everyone off, and now there was nothing for him to do but wait for morning. He considered finding food, but his stomach didn't seem to need any. Alastor paused by a high window, and leaned against the sill. It was later than he thought, probably close to ten o'clock, and his old bones didn't appreciate him dragging them around so late in the cold, damp air. The knee he still had intact ached and creaked as he tested it, and the joints in his knuckles trembled, barely visible but shook all the same, while he gripped his thick wooden staff.

Alastor flexed his fingers and gritted his teeth at the pain. He was getting too old for fighting, but he'd have to fight one more time.

The night sky outside was dark and empty of stars. There was no moon that night, so little light spilled over the grounds. Alastor scanned what he could see, but saw nothing. He pushed himself off the border of the window, and limped along the corridor.

A flash of light outside another window caught the attention of his magical eye; it whizzed around and saw through his head to look outside. Alastor paused again, and then stepped closer to peer outside.

He didn't see anything at first, just the denser darkness of the forest against a faintly glowing sky, when another flicker appeared in the midst of the forest. He narrowed his normal eye, and his magical one zoomed in. The light was a constant source, moving in and out of the trees, which made it seem to die and flare back to life. It was moving slowly, from the center of the forest towards the grounds. Alastor frowned.

"What the devil could that be?" he muttered, zooming in further.

He still could not make out what was producing the light, but now he could see that there were multiple sources, all grouped together and moving forward. He focused harder, straining his eyes. The old ex-Auror sucked in his breath. Those were wands casting the light.

"Attack!" Alastor shouted. "Death Eaters moving through the forest!"

He turned and ran as quickly as his protesting joints could back towards the staff room, fumbling with his wand as he did. He touched the tip to his throat and muttered the spell to amplify his voice.

"ATTACK!" He bellowed. "DEATH EATERS ARE COMING THROUGH THE FOREST! ALL HANDS GET TO BATTLE STATIONS; THERE'S AN ATTACK COMING!"

**************

A/N: Yes, I'm evil. Sorry.
Reviews 105
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