Ch493- Chorus
The air shook as Harry raised both hands. The sky split open, tearing like cloth. From the rift came a cry so sharp the grass bent with it, Spark the Thunderbird, lightning arcing from its wings. The next roar rattled the stones underfoot, Ash the Ridgeback tearing her way into the sky, wings spread wide.
Then came more. Beasts of every kind. Manticores leapt free, tails lashing. A Basilisk slid into the open, scales scraping against stone. Thestrals and Unicorns stomped in. The Acromantulas scuttled in a tide, clicking and shrieking. The portal poured forth a menagerie of monsters, each bound to Harry’s call.
The clash was instant. Nicolas’s silver-eyed soldiers marched as one, runes blazing as bolts of pale fire tore across the field. Harry’s Death Eaters braced, gauntlets flaring, returning blasts of green and blue that cracked the ground. Where the two armies collided, the earth shook with the impact.
Above, the Thunderbird wheeled, lightning slamming into Nicolas’s ranks, frying entire lines at once. Ash roared and dove, claws raking through phalanxes that broke like waves under her shadow.
Perenelle lifted both hands, her voice echoing. The green fire leapt higher, curling into a wall of flame that split the field. Pansy and Daphne snapped their wands, cold blue slicing across, tearing a hole wide enough for the beasts to surge through.
Neville charged with Gryffindor’s sword, Fleur at his side casting blasts of white fire that seared through the front ranks. Behind them, Hermione carved through Nicolas’s rune-work with spellchains faster than anyone else could follow, Susan and Hannah shielding her without a crack in their defence.
On the flank, Ginny and Luna sent curses arcing wide, Ginny’s brutal hexes cutting soldiers down, Luna’s strange, twisting charms warping armour and turning blades into useless shapes.
The twins’ laughter carried above the noise, explosions bursting in mad colours wherever they cast, blasting holes through silver ranks. Fred ducked under a blade, George yanked him back, both firing point-blank before vanishing into smoke.
Draco stood with Lavender, their spells a brutal rhythm, Draco’s sharp duelling curses, Lavender’s charms and disorientations weaving in. Blaise and Su Li moved smoother, quieter, precise hexes cutting straight through gaps, never wasted.
On the far side, Cho and Cedric fought shoulder to shoulder, Cedric’s raw power backing Cho’s surgical precision. Each strike from them cleared swathes, never faltering.
Astoria was pale but steady, her runic chains lashing out to bind soldiers by the dozens, Daphne covering her with sharp curses whenever a gap threatened.
The field became chaos.
Harry’s left hand dropped to the ground, and the turf shivered. Stones split into jagged spears, rolling forward in a line that tore through the silver light of Nicolas’s runes. At the same time, the Elder Wand snapped upward, a stream of spells ripping through the air.
Nicolas swayed aside, cloak whipping. His eyes narrowed, and for the first time that evening, there was a glimmer of something that might’ve been impressed. “So this,” he called across the field, “is what twenty millennia of training looks like?”
Harry grinned. “Not bad for a teenager, eh?”
The next wave broke. Nicolas swept a hand across the earth, and the spears Harry had raised crumbled to dust before they reached him. He followed with a lash of white that cracked like thunder, forcing Harry back a pace.
“Don’t stop there,” Harry shot back, firing again, twin bolts crossing in mid-air before splitting into six. “I expected more from Britain’s favourite bedtime story.”
Nicholas shifted, weaving through Harry’s spellfire. He flicked his hand, and a row of Harry’s beasts crumpled where they stood, their bodies turned to mist and dust.
The Elder Wand twitched, and the basilisk surged forward, its shadow stretching across the field. Perenelle raised her hand, flame meeting scale, and the serpent slammed through it with a hiss, only to vanish again into smoke, illusion over illusion, the real strike sweeping in from the flank.
“Always two moves ahead,” Nicolas murmured, almost fond.
“You taught me that,” Harry said, and the next strike came from above. Spark’s lightning tore across the hilltop, and Nicolas barely raised his shield in time. The ground beneath him scorched black, steam rolling off the stone.
Astoria’s chains lashed across the field, catching two of Nicolas’s soldiers and yanking them flat. Daphne snapped a hex straight after, and they didn’t rise again.
On the other side, Cho and Cedric fought like one arm. Cedric’s raw power cracked through shields, Cho’s precision stitched the openings, and the pair moved forward step for step.
Nicolas’s attention flicked across the line, catching them, catching Draco and Lavender, catching Blaise and Su Li, each pair working in their rhythm. His mouth tightened. “So this is what you’ve built. Not soldiers. Friends.”
“Difference matters,” Harry called back, raising the Elder Wand again. The blast he fired wasn’t one spell but three woven, twisting together into a streak that bent mid-air before slamming into Nicolas’s shield. The impact rattled the hill, cracks spidering in the earth.
Nicolas’s jaw set. He pushed forward, forcing the shield back into shape, and then snapped his hand wide. The runes on the ground flared, brighter than before, rising like pillars of silver flame. They raced toward Harry, a cage ready to close.
Harry slammed his left palm down. The ground bucked, transfigured spikes erupting in every direction, smashing through the cage’s walls before they sealed. The broken fragments spun into the air, shattering like glass.
Spark circled high, stormclouds rolling in at his call. Lightning crawled along his wings, and his voice rumbled across the field. “Harry. Don’t dawdle. Death’s power is gathering.”
Harry’s eyes flicked up. “I see it.”
Even Nicolas paused to glance at the Thunderbird, his voice carrying despite the clash below. “Remarkable creature.”
His wand snapped up, silver light searing through the air, but Ash dropped from the clouds like a boulder, wings snapping wide. The spell smashed against her chest, and for a moment Nicolas thought he’d cut through her, only for a blue shield to bloom across her scales, holding firm.
Harry moved. He slid forward over the ground like it bent to let him pass. Nicolas’s eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.
The din of battle shifted. What had been chaos turned into rhythm, like the beat of a drum. Roars, chirps, cries, every beast Harry had called thudded in time, and Harry’s throat rumbled. It wasn’t human. It was the cry of the Thunderbird, the Ridgeback’s roar, the Basilisk’s hiss, the Acromantula’s shriek, all merging his own. The sound cracked the air, a wall of raw magic lashing outward.
The battlefield shook. Perenelle’s fire guttered as Spark’s storm pressed down, thunder splitting the air in time with the beat. The beasts surged with it, their roars weaving into Harry’s cry until the field itself seemed to breathe with them.
Fred shouted over the storm, “Well, that’s one way to start a chorus!”
“Louder than the Weird Sisters,” George yelled back, grinning madly as he fired another hex.
“Shut up and keep firing!” Angelina snapped, though she was smiling too.
Nicolas’s shield cracked under the weight of the cry, runes bursting one by one until the ground glowed silver. He thrust his hand down, pulling on the wards buried deep in the isle itself. The land split, jagged stone tearing upward, but Harry’s cry rolled through it, shattering the stone like glass.
Ash wheeled back into the sky, Spark darting alongside her. Lightning lanced down, timed perfectly with the beat, smashing through Nicholas’s summoned phalanx. The silver-eyed soldiers stumbled, their lines broken, and Harry’s Death Eaters surged in, gauntlets flaring as they punched through the gap.
“On them!” Bellatrix screamed, her voice wild with glee.
Neville’s sword flashed as he carved through another line, Fleur at his shoulder, her spells burning hot white. Susan and Hannah braced their shields, Hermione darting between them to tear at Nicolas’s runes. Luna sang under her breath, her wand strokes strange and sharp, curses twisting armour into knots. Ginny’s hexes crashed beside her.
The roar deepened, every beast in his call joining. It wasn’t chaos, it was a rythm, a wall of living magic that slammed against Nicolas’s long-crafted runes, breaking them apart piece by piece. The field stank of ozone and ash, the sky itself bending as Spark’s storm cracked overhead.
Nicolas braced again, but his eyes narrowed. For the first time in centuries, he felt the weight of something pushing back.
