✔️ 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 → 𝑐.𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦

19 | G A M E C H A N G E R

This chapter is dedicated to
cigarsmokeandthedark
who inspired me to add this
little detail of hers.
It's a brilliant thought,
thank you! <3

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   Ana wasn't really interested in this war and she let the folks around her know it. Still she was with those ridiculous hooded figures, the Death Eaters, who were eyeing her suspicious. They didn't want her with them just as much as Voldemort wanted her company, but Ana left them no choice. Her to still her lust for revenge was way more important than those creatures needs.

   Rosie was circling the castle from above, less a warning than a written dead sentence for those Ana was aiming for. She could almost smell their fear!

     The castle looked peaceful, almost serene, but Ana knew that behind those thick walls the first battles had already be enflamed, and humans were aimlessly running through the corridors like anxious ants.

     But just like ants, Ana knew they would do anything to protect this old masonry.

     The ground under her feet vibrated, then quaked, as the giants joined the battle, braking through the trees of the Forbidden Forest as if they were nothing but tooth picks. To their massive feet, spiders the size of Abraxas horses crept up the soft hill, ready to invade the castle.

     Ana didn't move a toe; not as a giant's foot crushed into the ground next to her; not as the spiders passed her by with their fangs clicking, angryliy hissing. She felt the fear of the two men to both her sides. Augustus Rookwood and Rabastan Lestrange. Two of Voldemort's closest and most loyal henchmen. They wouldn't dare to run away, but also they wouldn't dare to attack her. Not after what has happened to Octavius Nott. It had been the most important statement that needed to be set. Now no one would make the mistake to ever come at her again — neither in this war, nor after it was over.

     "Shouldn't we go?", Rookwood asked, and out of the corner of her eyes, Ana could see him glaring at her.

      She watched the spiders climb the castle walls, watched those walls crumble from the hands of the giants.

     "Let's go", she said, nodding grimly, as she took her first step on the path towards the building that slowly turned to dust and debris in front of her eyes.

     The giants had left huge craters where their feet had met the ground. Red gleaming smoke around Ana's feet allowed her to cross those sinkholes without touching the dirt below her. She could sense the eyes behind the windows widen at the view of her, and wondered if Harry Potter knew who Voldemort sent to come for him.

     As much as Ana wanted to enter the castle through the front door — for the dramatic effect, of course — she chose to let her own powerful magic carry her through a gap of shattered stone. The giants had wandered to the other side of the castle, and while Ana was soaring into a hallway, Rookwood and Lestrange climbed the heap of rubble right behind her.

     The corridors were filled with yelled curses and counterspells screamed in despair. Ana didn't care for them. She only wanted to fulfil her part of the deal, then return to her peaceful life in solitude. The magical world was doomed anyways, so everyone going to die tonight would receive a favour the survivors would beg for in no time ...

     An agonising screech filled the air, pervading what was left of the thick walls, and her blood froze, jumping back to the gap she had come through, as she spotted Rosie high above the castle, amongst a hundred Dementors circling the dragon.

     "Call her back!", Ana snapped at Rookwood, who had finally reached the peak of his climb, Rabastan stepping into the corridor close behind him.

     "Who do you think I am, master of Dementors?", Rookwood scoffed. "I can't call them back. No one can control them, the Dark Lord promised them to roam this world in freedom under his regime." His lips curled into an evil smirk. "Just like he did with you, darling."

     Ana ignored his impoliteness. User other circumstances, she would have murdered this man before he could draw a second breath, but her worries for Rosie weighed heavier than anything, so she rushed down the corridor, trying to find a window where she could aim better at those vile creatures —

     Thud!

     At the corner of the corridor, someone hit the wall and slid down, unconscious, maybe dead.

     "Thicknesse", Rookwood, who had followed Ana, muttered, staring down at that man, when they heard laughter, right before two young man came into sight, both of them with flaming red hair and a freckled face, even one of them had the same warm brown eyes as ...

    "Charlie ...", she whispered, but nobody could hear it, as Rookwood next to her boomed, "Bombarda!"

    "No!"

    Instinctively, Ana's left hand shot the ruby red forces at Rookwood and Lestrange, who were thrown back, hitting the wall like Thicknesse before them. Ana heard a crack, but there was no time to care about it. All of this happened the split of a second, and now both hands were steadying the wall threatening to collapse right above the redheads. The crimson light of her magic filled the corridor, enlightening the ginger's pale faces, and Ana thrusted the crumbling wall aside.

     Red fume around her fingers slowly vanished, and Ana noticed that the two young men weren't alone. With them was no one else than Harry Potter, alongside another red head and a girl with bushy brown hair.

     Ana's eyes flickered back to the two fingers closest to her.

     "Weasleys?", she asked, and they slowly nodded, eyes the sizes of Galleons. "Don't die", she said, rushing past them as Rosie let out another agonising screech.

    Ana was facing Harry Potter now. Her task was as good as fulfilled, when out of the corners of her eyes she saw curses hailing at Rosie, fired from the ground. Black hooded men were aiming at her dragon, firing again ...

     "Must be your lucky day, Potter", she growled, before she rushed past him and vanished further down the corridor.

     The rules had been changed. And so did the battle. Ana no longer seeked for revenge. The tables had turned, and Voldemort could kiss her ass, if he lived long enough to dare it.

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