Title: Of Draons & Prophesies 1/?
Pairing: None yet
Warnings: Creature Fic, OOC-ness, Post OotP, Pre HBP
Disclaimer: Nope, doesn’t belong to me. I only play with them a bit.
Summary: This is something I had written almost a year and a half ago, and that I really wanted to turn into a story, but because of what happened in Great Britain with the terrorist attack in the underground train’s stations I don’t think I should keep writing. In my story the attacks were indeed caused by terrorists and not the Death Eaters, so I guess that makes things even worse. Still here it is the start of it for a few to read.
Mad-Eye Moody, Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley had just threatened the Dursleys on his behalf, and the only thing Harry could think of was… Wow! It was worth seeing the purple face or his ‘Uncle’ as he barely contained his anger. Knowing it was one thing to bully the boy, since he was underage and could not do magic, and quite another to do the same to adult wizards. After that he had grunted in acknowledgment, turned 180° and started walking towards the exit. His aunt and Dudley caught up with him while Harry trudged a few paces behind pushing the trolley with all his meager possessions.
They were moving rather slow because the station was more crowded than the teen remembered from previous years. In fact, if he did not hurry up a bit he was going to loose sight of his hateful relatives. And despite the warning From the Order’s members he rather not test Vernon’s self-control. He speeded up a bid, doing his best to weave his way among the throngs of people. As he looked about for the Dursleys, he noticed Hermione and her parents were a few people ahead of him. There were also more than a few faces he recognized from Hogwarts. The Creevys walked a couple of yards ahead and to his right, their mother, and grandmother herding all five children. Almost beside him walked a 7th year Ravenclaw that he could not remember the name of, but that seemed to be the eldest in a ‘Weasley big’ family.
The-boy-who-lived lost sight of his relatives for a moment, caught as he was in a swarm of people coming off a train. So many persons in one place were making Hedwig and him uneasy. He frowned and could not help asking himself why there were so many people. He then spotted Dudley’s massive bulk waddling up ahead and he began walking faster.
There were about ten people between his relatives and him when there was a loud explosion in the wagon the Dursleys were passing by. In what appeared to be slow motion Harry saw a huge fireball erupt from the wagon and engulf anything in its path; people, luggage and the station’s furniture. Shrapnel from the destroyed wagon flew everywhere. Just as the expansion wave hit him, the boy realized his relatives were no more. The fireball got the trio dead on.
Harry was projected against the other people and ended after it passed on the floor with everyone else. People started to panic and Kings Cross became a war zone, the sea of humans inside the station was suddenly moving towards the exits with no regards to those lying hurt or dead on the floor. The boy managed to stand on his feet and avoid being trampled by the terrified mob thanks to a column he hid behind. At the moment he did not feel any pain, though he knew he had cuts on his face, as blood ran down from his forehead.
‘Great, just great I managed to get me another scar in a visible place,’ was his annoyed thought. At the moment he was having a hard time grasping the situation. Still not feeling pain he noticed that the left side of his huge t-shirt was wet and sticky. Venturing a look he found out it was blood, his own it seemed. Gathering his Gryffindor courage he peeked under the shirt. ‘Bloody hell!’ he thought with a grimace. `Something’s sticking out, this can’t be good.’ He tentatively tried to remove it, but decide against it when more blood gushed out.
No more than five minutes had passed since the first explosion when a second, a bit closer to the exit, detonated, killing several people that were trying to escape and blocking the exits. That shocked him out of his dazed state, his mind immediately focusing on his best friend. Hermione had been walking with her parents ahead of him. She might have been injured or trapped by the debris and he would not think of the possibility that she might have died. The thought did not bear thinking.
Harry began making his way over debris, luggage and… bodies; sometimes it was an arm or leg with nothing attached. It was a gruesome scene filled with dust that had not settled, smoke, and the nauseous scent of burnt flesh. There were moans, and shouts along with pleas for help and it was truly overwhelming. It was by far the worse thing he had ever witnessed.
In his search for Hermione he came across the Creevys just as a third explosion went off to his right; sending him and every one back to the floor trying to cover themselves from the debris coming down from parts of the collapsed ceiling. His house-mates were in shock, and injured, thought it appear to be minor things. But their grandmother was dead; she tried to protect her youngest granddaughter from a beam that was much too heavy. The little girl was gravely injured and trapped under the old woman’s body.
Between them and a couple other survivors they managed to free the child. Harry then renewed his search for his best friend. As he made his way to the place he last saw her, the young Gryffindor recognized a few students and helped to the best of his abilities, but refused to use magic. He was not sure the people at the Ministry would let him get away with it. He did warn sternly those he could against using their wands, but he could see that many of his school mates were using it. He just hoped those inept Ministry officials would not be expelling anyone.
Harry finally found Hermione just as a fourth explosion rocked what was left of the building. She was kneeling beside an upturned wagon that was precariously held off the floor on one side by a mound of debris that probably used to be part of the ceiling. The teen could see there were people trapped not only underneath it, but also inside. Some were alive, their pleas for help were heartrending; others were clearly dead. Hermione had her wand out and was trying, without success to cast Wingardium Leviosa, but she was so shocked and shaking so badly that she could not concentrate.
“Hermione stop it!” He ordered her for the third time, his voice as stern and commanding as he could make it. Training the D.A. had helped him develop it. He also grabbed her wand in hopes of finally calling her attention, to his relief, she reacted.
“Harry?” she asked in a dazed kind of voice that reminded the teen of Luna Lovegood. “Harry help me please! Please! They… they’re trapped; I have to get them out. Dad… Dad pushed me out of the way, but… but now they are trapped!” she began in her dazed voice that slowly turned hysterical.
“I’ll see what we can do,” his voice sounded tired. He was beginning to feel pain and the blood loss weakened him. Still, he hung on with sheer Gryffindor stubbornness. “Where are they ‘Mione?”
She pointed to the mound that supported the wagon, and Harry’s heart sank. No one could be alive under it. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that her parents were dead? That she was an orphan, just like he was. How? He did not have the heart, and yet knew he had to tell her or she would not move from that spot. Harry needed to get her to safety, before he was unable to do it.
“There’s nothing anyone can do,” he said softly looking into her disbelieving eyes. She already knew they were gone, but she refused to accept it.
“No, no, no,” she exclaimed shaking her head in denial. “No, that’s not true, it can’t be true. Please Harry, please tell me it isn’t true. They’re not dead,” The young witch begged desperately tears rolling down her eyes.
“It’s true Hermione, there’s no way they could have survived under that pile,” saying that, and seeing the crushed expression on her face, was probably the hardest thing he had ever done in his short life. And coming from the-boy-who-lived that was a lot to say.
“You’re lying Harry. Why? Why? Why won’t you help me? I’ll get them out. You’ll see, they aren’t dead,” she raised her wand and pointed it at the wagon. Harry tried to take it away but she moved faster out of his reach.
“Don’t you DARE use it Hermione!” He again used his sternest voice. He was not going to let her destroy her future, she would not forgive herself when she came to her senses, and… he needed her by his side. He had already lost too many people close to him. He was not about to let her be expelled. “The Ministry won’t care that you used magic in an emergency. They’ll expel you anyway!”
“I don’t CARE!” Hermione snapped at him. “Can’t you see? They’re all I have? They’re probably hurt; I can’t leave them there Harry,”
“I understand, but refusing to see the truth won’t bring them back, believe me I know. They are dead ‘Mione, and you know it,” His voice was serious and somber as well as filled with grief at being reminded of Sirius death. “I am sorry.”
“But I… I should have done something…” she began rambling and he had to hold her face to force her look at him.
“Please… don’t go there… it… it doesn’t do any good, believe me I know.”
“Oh Harry,” she wailed and clung to him as she sobbed in despair and grief. He too cried for her loss and her pain. She and Ron were all he had, and knowing she suffered broke his heart.
Harry muttered awkwardly reassuring words, or at least he thought they were, but he was finally feeling the strain of his injuries as the adrenaline that had kept him going began to wear out. He began to feel dizzy and weak and he sagged against her. Then he could not help the cry of pain when one of her hands brushed against a piece of metal on his back. She pulled away horrified as she noticed her hand covered in Harry’s blood and saw the metal protruding from his back.
“Oh God, you’re hurt!”
“I’m… I’m fin…” he began but stopped at a dizzy spell. Talking sense to Hermione ‘seemed to have robed him of his strength.
“No you’re not! Why didn’t you tell me?” He just shrugged, as she began disentangling herself.
Now that they were not so focused on each other, both noticed the sounds of the rescue vehicles, and the voices of the rescue teams. They just had to find someone to aid them soon. She stood up and helped him to his feet. He really was feeling bad and began worrying that he was not going to make it, too much blood loss. As both stood, Hermione supporting most of his slight weight, they heard a low metallic rumble inside the wagon, and those still alive began emitting panicked cries for help.
A group of about ten people mostly either uninjured, or with very minor ones, had approached them to offer help. Seconds later, they heard a low metal groan. In that instant their minds registered that the wagon was going to explode and they could not get away. In a panic both magical teens lost control of their magic just as the wagon exploded. The only thought on their minds, that of protecting those that had come to help them. Their combined magic created a shield that blocked the resulting fireball and the flying shrapnel. Unfortunately the shield did not protect them, and they were engulfed by the flames. Harry’s last attempt at protecting her was to cover her with his body; although it was not enough.
The Order members had just crossed back to platform 9¾ when a first year Hufflepuff girl burst in crying hysterically. It took them a few moments to calm her enough to tell them what happened and injured people, students and their families began pouring in; all were in different grades of hysteria or shock.
There were still some wizard born children with their parents. Mad-Eye Moody began organizing them to search for students and their families, worried that it might be a Death Eater attack. Arthur used the floo to call the rest of the Order, Dumbledore, and the Ministry Aurors. Remus organized the Weasleys present to search for Harry and Hermione since he believed there had not been enough time for them to leave.
As the magical people came out of the platform they were faced with pandemonium. Panicked people were running every which way among the destruction that surrounded them. Moody ordered everyone to cast shields around them after an explosion nearby threw them to the floor. It was hard to see among the smoke and dust but they had to get the students to safety.
It was Fred who found Harry’s singed trunk, and a slightly singed and panicked Hedwig still trapped in her cage. She would need medical attention. There were some panicked kneazles and owls that they caught and sent to the platform, as they kept searching worried about not finding Harry. Ginny spotted a very mauled Crookshanks hiding under a pile of baggage, so everyone concluded Hermione had not left the station either.
The explosions seemed to have stopped, and despite the decision of searching for Harry and Hermione they could not just leave the people –be it magic or muggle- to fend on their own. That slowed their progress even as more people from both muggle authorities and the Ministry joined rescue work. Obliviators were hard pressed to undo the memories of those who saw the children either using magic or trying to.
Remus was beginning to get frantic, he had just lost Sirius, and he did not think he would survive loosing Harry too. As a last resort he dared to use a ‘point me’ charm to track the boy. As he was advancing towards the exit another wagon blew up in what had to be the most spectacular explosion of them all. From the place he was, he noticed how the flames parted around what could only be a very powerful shield. Then among the panicked screams he heard two voices resounding in what could only be terror. As he moved closer to the area he realized the screams were not human.