Previously:

When the smell of weed hit Neville's nose, Zabini turned to look at Bill and Neville, his eyes hard. "Get ready, gents. This will get ugly."

Chapter 15: HERMIONE'S WORST NIGHTMARE

25 May, The Parliament Library, Budapest

Nikolič made his move then.

The moment no one was looking at him, he drew his spare wand from somewhere and aimed it at Zabini.

He didn't manage to finish his incantation before Neville's and Bill's silent curses hit him, rendering the soldier unconscious and in ropes.

The wizard who obviously wasn't Zabini didn't even pause in dragging his joint. He slowly exhaled a puff of smoke before he spoke up. "Well, thanks gents, but I kind of need him awake for the next bit."

"Harry?" Bill wagered a guess.

Not-Zabini chuckled. "No shit, Bill, it is me! Were you expecting someone else to come to save your arses? Again?"

Bill ignored the jibe. "We need to get out of here," he urged. "They know about Rusty's—we need to get Annie to safety."

"Teddy and George are already on it," Harry said distractedly, his eyes now closed.

"Well, shouldn't we get out of here anyway?" Neville asked, frowning at Harry's seemingly relaxed face.

Harry cracked one eye open. "No shit, Nev."

"Shouldn't we hurry up?"

"I'm considering our options. If you give me a moment, I'll get on with it. In the meantime, you can wake Nikolič up. And Bill, I'd recommend throwing your strongest locking charm on that door. We're going to need it in about forty seconds."

That got them moving.

Neville brought Nikolič back to consciousness with a silent Ennervate. He left the ropes in place, though. When his eyes returned to Harry, Harry had his wand aimed at his own- well, at Zabini's face. He started casting one human-transfiguration spell after another, changing his appearance into that of… his true self.

Harry noticed Neville's questioning look and shrugged. "The Polyjuice will take ages to wear off. I'm not used to fighting with Zabini's gangly limbs."

They both turned to the door when they heard its locks click. Bill was standing in front of the frame, his wand levelled at the key chain in his left hand. Neville nodded in appreciation—Bill must have figured out the warding system which had locked them inside the office in the first place.

"Good thinking," Harry commented.

He turned to Nikolič next. "Now, you." He pointed his wand and growled "Legilimens."

The soldier started screaming almost immediately. Neville winced, watching him thrash in agony. He knew only too well how painful it was when a Legilimens wasn't being careful with his prod. And by the looks of it, Harry treaded about as gently as an elephant in a china shop.

"They're here," Bill spoke up next to Neville.

He glanced over his shoulder at the door and sure enough, flashes of spellfire were shining through its keyhole and the slits next to its hinges. The door itself didn't even shake. Yet. Neville shifted his stance to face the door with his wand half-raised, whilst he still watched Harry through the corner of his eye.

Harry broke his spell five seconds later, leaving Nikolič panting and crying in the bindings.

"Was that really necessary?" Neville asked as much in distaste as in pity.

Harry nodded. "It was the fastest way to get to know him. If he needs to die tonight, I can at least make his death useful."

Neville's eyebrows rose at the unexpected peek into Harry's abilities. This was not a time to comment on it, though. "What's the plan?" He really hoped Harry had one.

Harry pointed at the main door. "I'll come out that way and make as much noise as possible." He turned and pointed at the door on the other side. "You leave through there. There are some wizards there, too, but they should be called my way, too."

Neville looked at Bill, glad to find doubts written all over his face, too.

"How many soldiers are that way?" Bill asked, gesturing at the main door.

Harry scrunched up his forehead for a beat. "Right now, eighty-one."

Neville paused at the specific answer. Then he felt his eyes widen at the actual number.

"Right. That's no plan, that's you playing the stupid hero again," Bill grumbled. "Let's all leave the other way."

Harry shook his head. "Then, there would be almost a hundred that way and we'd take the fighting to the streets. I'd like to keep it contained to the library if possible; there's no need to include civilians."

"How about the windows?" Neville suggested.

"Wouldn't make much of a difference. They have us well and truly surrounded, we can't all sneak away." Harry paused for a moment, a dangerous smile growing on his face. "And if I'm forced to fight, there's this gentleman named Mendel I'd like to meet."

"We're not running away while you fight everyone else," Bill said, getting the conversation back on track.

"Splitting up is a good plan."

"Not a hundred to zero."

Whilst they were arguing, the door heated up in front of their eyes, going orange all over from a blaze of spellwork someone must have been throwing at it from the other side.

Almost simultaneously, Bill and Harry sent two identical beams at the door. Neville didn't recognise the spell but it seemed to have cooled down the wood somewhat.

"Okay, time to leave. Let me speak plainly." Harry's tone finally turned serious. "I know what's going to happen when I walk through that door. I know where every man is waiting. I know I'll get through them all in one piece. What I cannot assure is your safety if you follow me. That's why I'm saying—no, wait, let me rephrase—that's why I'm ordering you to go-"

Bill looked him straight in the eye. "You have no right to order me around, Harry. We're not leaving you to face them alone."

Harry swore. "You stupid bull-headed Weasleys. You are not helping anyone by staying, Bill, least of all me!"

"And you're going to kill yourself by trying to fight all the battles on your-"

"We don't have time for this."

Neville half-remembered Harry saying the exact same sentence a lifetime ago, in a dead zone along the Magical Curtain, just before he'd jumped at a muggle staying in his way. Only because of that memory did Neville instinctively know to start moving when Harry's left hand raised towards him. It was how he managed to avoid the Imperio that Harry threw at him from a wand that wasn't in his palm half a second ago.

Neville and Bill both stared at him in silent shock.

"It was worth a try." Harry shrugged unapologetically. "If you die today, I'll be able to tell myself I've tried everything."

It was then that the door exploded.

Neville had a shield ready in an instant, conjured purely on instinct. It wasn't needed, though. Harry had somehow moved even faster and frozen the splinters midair before they'd got anywhere near them. He released the tiny projectiles back at whoever was standing on the other side. Before Neville could see anything through the cloud of dust that still hadn't settled, Harry conjured an opaque shield over the hole where the doorframe used to stand. Neville expanded his shield and let it join Harry's.

His knees almost buckled under the barrage of curses that hit their improvised barrier the next moment.

From the corner of his eyes, he watched Harry point his second wand at Nikolič behind them. Without ever looking away from the door, Harry let the soldier's bindings disappear. He threw another blind yet perfectly aimed Imperio at Nikolič. Apparently, he somehow acquired the skill to use two wands simultaneously. And the ability to aim without looking at his target. And the guts to use Unforgiveables on friends and foes alike.

Neville watched, impressed and still vexed in equal measures, as the soldier got up from the ground and mechanically walked up to stand in front of Harry.

"We're going to have a long-overdue conversation once we're out of here," Bill shouted over the noise of curses hitting their shields.

"I wouldn't threaten with that just now," Harry laughed. "I might change my mind and abort the rescue mission."

He started walking up towards the entrance with Nikolič in front of him as a human shield. "Don't get anywhere near me!" he said across his shoulder.

"Wait!" Bill shouted when Harry dropped his shield. "We still don't have a plan!"

Harry disappeared through the collapsed doorframe before Bill finished his sentence.

The storm of curses raining on Neville's shield abruptly stopped. He kept it raised nonetheless. Listening to the shouts of incantations coming from the other side, he cursed the fact that he picked a non-transparent variety.

"Cocky idiot," Bill was muttering next to him. "I'm half-tempted to just leave him there alone."

Neville glanced at him. Bill was eyeing the back door with contemplation. Neville chuckled humourlessly. "You and I both know that's not what you're going to do."

Bill grumbled something unintelligible before he spoke up. "Do you know this part of the building? Is there a way we could get around the fighting and join Harry from the sides?"

Neville shook his head. "This is the first time I've been in this wing."

Bill swore under his breath. "Straight to their waiting arms it is, then." He opened his pouch and rummaged inside elbow deep. A moment later, he took out his potion belt and secured it around his waist. He opened a Pepper-up and downed it quickly.

"Your turn, Nev," Bill said, conjuring a shield behind Neville's. "Drop your shield."

Neville did so, and suit himself up in a similar fashion to Bill's. Once he felt the steam of the Pepper-up potion coming out of his ears, Bill spoke up again. "Right. Stay behind and on my right."

"—on your right," Neville finished in unison.

It had been decades since they'd last got into a proper fight. But it had been only weeks since they'd last trained for it. Neville could hear his heart pounding in his chest but his wand arm was steady.

Bill's eyes bored into Neville's when he turned to him now. "Ready for this?"

Neville nodded without hesitation. Bill's gaze lingered on his face for a bit longer. Whatever he was searching for there, his friend must have found it a moment later because he nodded to himself and turned towards the collapsed door. "Disillusion yourself and stand by the wall. I'm going to drop my shield in three."

The corridor outside the office was empty, apart from five bodies lying motionless on the floor among the debris of the blasted door, a number of wooden splinters protruding from their chest. Their clothing was torn in places but Neville still safely recognised the uniforms of the Empire's Army. The fifth body, the only one in mundane robes, was Nikolič.

Whilst Bill carried further along the hall, his now disillusioned body discernible only by the shimmering of its silhouette, Neville stayed behind, firing off five cautionary Stupifies in quick succession. He'd seen better wizards than him getting hit in the back by enemies playing dead. None of his stunners latched, though; the soldiers were well and truly gone. Quickly falling back into the old routine, he then tried to summon their wands. None of the corpses seemed to have one. That was good; if Harry'd spared the time to gather their wands, he must have been in control of the situation.

They could hear the sounds of fighting from up ahead. Among the occasional booms of spellfire, they easily recognised spell incantations and shouts of pain. Other than that, it was quiet in the corridors of the library; the adrenaline pumping through his veins now, mixed with the effects of the Pepper-up, made even the tiniest of noises stand out.

They carried on swiftly but carefully. Bill was in the lead whilst Neville walked almost sideways, watching the hall behind them. They didn't encounter anyone, although Neville did fire Stupifies on seven more corpses they passed.

It was only when they entered the grand staircase a minute later did they learn where everyone was.

They stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at the great hall in front of them. Neville remembered its splendid decor from their way up, the marble columns and golden carvings of the arched ceiling.

It was utter mayhem now.

Dust and debris and occasional flames were permeating the air. The fresco on the walls was scorched or scratched in places. Tens of wizards in army uniforms were milling on the staircases and on the two galleries up on the sides. Neville quickly scanned it all, his trained eyes taking note of the pillars along the galleries, thick enough to hide a wizard three times over. They'd provide good cover fighting outnumbered.

However, Harry wasn't up there. Neville's eyes found him a moment later at the bottom of the staircase, in plain sight of everyone standing above him, and closely surrounded by wizards from all sides.

It took Neville all of two seconds to realise that those wizards were all the cover Harry needed.

Neville's eyes landed on Harry just as he tripped a witch over her own feet with a quick hex. Neville watched as Harry slid towards her, crouching low, and hurled her falling body over his back. She crashed into another attacker behind him. Simultaneously, Harry's other wand was controlling the red carpet of the stairs, directing it to rise in waves like an oversized ribbon. One of its coils scooped up a wizard and pushed him towards Harry. He stabbed his wand into the soldier's belly and banished him from point blank several feet high into the air.

Throughout the whole time, curses rained down on Harry from the galleries above his head. None of the spells reached their target, though. They'd hit the witch Harry had conveniently hurled over his bent back, or the carpet that had surged up in a timely fashion to intercede several beams, or the soldier that Harry had hunched behind for half a second before he'd sent him flying.

One of the curses from the galleries turned out to be a Bombarda, and a Maxima at that. Someone threw it at Harry's feet, with utter disregard for the lives of their comrades around him. Neville flinched as the floor exploded, stone and dust bursting high, splashing all the way against the ceiling. Some dozen bodies got caught in the blast, Harry being one of them. Neville's heart clenched in worry for his friend, only to see a shield appear in front of Harry in time to fend of the debris. The red carpet swooped up to cushion his fall. It embraced him completely for a second and then sprung him back onto his feet. By then, Harry was flinging curses again, taking advantage of the lull in the fighting. He made a quick work of the dazed soldiers close to him, finishing three at a time with sweeping motions of his wand.

"Holly mother of..." someone breathed out. Neville wasn't sure if it was him or Bill standing to his left.

Either way, Neville could relate to that sentiment. He had seen wizards fighting with this level of efficiency only a handful of times before, when soldiers would drink Felix Felicis as preparation for a battle. He didn't think Harry had slipped back to his old addiction, though. His movements were fluid, calculated; there wasn't the potion's signature twitch when it prompted to interrupt the natural course of action.

Neville's eyes followed as Harry waved his wand at the settling dust of the explosion and made the whole cloud glisten bright red. He banished it towards the nearest group of soldiers. They put up shields in time but it didn't make much of a difference; the fiery powder slid off the curved shields, straight at their friends standing beside them.

This wasn't luck. This was skill and strategy.

Neville watched as the dust grains burned through their uniforms. They cried in pain, momentarily distracted, and then, Harry was upon them. He used an acceleration charm, prompting himself straight into their midst, attacking them with his two wands up close. It became obvious then that Harry was not surrounded. Quite on the contrary, he was pursuing the wizards, forcing them into close combat, using their bodies as shields against the curses flying at him from afar. Neville noticed soldiers backing away, trying to keep their distance; that's when the carpet ribbon coiled up behind them, pushing the wizards back at Harry in manageable groups. They were trying to dispell the animation, or destroy the fabric; they succeeded in places, but Harry's magic held mostly true, the carpet mending itself and shepherding Harry's enemies as he pleased.

Neville raised his eyes to the wizards up on the gallery that didn't relent even for a second, flinging one spell after another at Harry, looking for a blind spot. Harry appeared to have none. In that moment, Neville realised it just might be so. Harry was able to aim perfectly well while facing the opposite way. He was avoiding spells that his eyes couldn't possibly see coming.

Harry's words now came back to Neville. He'd hinted at an awareness of his surrounding that far preceded that of a normal wizard. Was it the same power that allowed him to spy on people? Was he using the same tool to gain this heightened perception?

Whatever the mechanics behind his abilities, Neville for the first time believed that Harry might be able to manage on his own, exactly like he'd told them.

"He can't keep up this pace for too long," Bill's disembodied voice reached Neville's ears. "Let's stop gaping and get useful. Go through the gallery on the right. I'll take the left. Meet me on the other end of the hall."

No one had noticed them, standing unmoving and disillusioned on top of the staircase. They split up now. Neville spelled his feet and breathing silent, planning to sneak up on the wizards on his side of the gallery. He managed easily enough with his first target: the wizard was standing alone, separated from the rest of the soldiers by a thick marble column. The silent curse rendered him unconscious without him ever noticing Neville's approach. Neville levitated the body to gently fall on the ground–although it wasn't strictly necessary to be this careful among the ruckus of the fight.

He grabbed the wizard's wand, ready to break it, but he paused at the last moment and hid it in his pouch instead. Popovič did say there was a shortage of wands. George might appreciate a couple for his muggleborns.

He chanced a quick look around the pillar; six soldiers were standing close to each other by the railing, all focused on Harry downstairs. He quickly crossed the distance to the nearest one and sent a silent stunner from up close to avoid the flash of the curse. He crunched low to grab the wizard's wand. Only that saved him from being hit by the spell that suddenly flew straight over his head.

He hurriedly threw himself back behind the pillar. He looked around carefully, searching for his attacker. The curse came from the other side of the hall. There, at the opposite gallery- there was a soldier pointing at him and shouting to alert the others.

Damn. He'd been spotted. More curses started flying in his direction, both from the opposite gallery and then sideways, from the wizards standing close by. He was still disillusioned, and none of the spells got too close. He refrained from conjuring a shield, crunching low instead, further chancing his luck. He knew his cover will be only short-lived, though. The soldiers were quickly approaching, he could hear them from behind the column he was leaning on. They sent a sweeping Finite his way. It hadn't touched him behind the stone of the column but it was only a matter of seconds before they sent one under a better angle.

He glanced at the opposite balcony. He couldn't see Bill but he had to trust that his friend would join the fray soon and keep the soldiers there occupied. Neville's bigger problem was the bunch on this side.

He sent a silent spell at a floor tile in from of him, transforming its surface into glass. He ripped it from the floor and tilted it upwards, so the mirror would reflect the wizards advancing on him.

With his eyes on their reflection, he grabbed his wand in a fist and jabbed the floor with it, letting go off his favourite spell for the second time today. Eyes narrowed in concentration, he watched the reflection in his makeshift mirror as small cracks travelled from the tip of his wand towards his attackers and underneath their boots. A moment later, marble roots erupted from the floor behind the wizards, catching the last one unaware as the animated stone immediately wrapped itself around his ankles and legs, dragging him down.

He shouted in surprise and pain. His colleagues spun around.

That was Neville's cue. He rounded the pillar, a banisher ready at the forefront of his mind. He let it fly from his wand with as much power as he could muster, the sweeping motion of his arm catching all five wizards in the spell. They had their backs to him and they were all thrown off their feet. Neville quickly followed with a series of cutting curses, rendering three of them out of the fight before the rest got their bearings back and turned their wands towards him. Knowing his time was running out, Neville sent his last spell, an Imperio of his own, and then quickly duck for cover behind the column again.

Only to stare at a tip of a wand waiting there.

Its owner was looking right at him, the disillusionment of no help here. Neville's arm lifted to conjure a shield, although he knew he'd be too slow.

But he wasn't. No curse hit him and after a second of waiting, no curse hit his raised shield either. He heard a quiet thud instead. He lowered the shield a smitch in order to see. There was a collapsed body on the floor, with a bloodied hole in its back. By the size of it, Neville was quite sure the wizard was dead. The floor next to him had a hole too, some three inches in diameter with scorched edges.

The trajectory of the spell didn't leave any doubts about its caster. No matter how impossible it was for Harry to see what was happening up on the gallery, he'd still sent the curse through its floor with perfect timing and perfect aim.

Neville grunted in appreciation, of the skill and of the narrow save both, although he couldn't help but feel annoyed, too. They were supposed to cover Harry's back, not the other way around.

In the shock of the whole incident, he felt his control over the Imperio slipping. He remembered his remaining enemies, and not a minute too soon. There was a whooshing of air behind him, a sound Neville recognised right away. He raised a shield to meet the approaching flames just in time.

It wasn't a very clever spell to use. Hidden from the enemy's sight by their own flames, Neville had a second to assess the situation and think of his next steps. He also chanced a quick look over the rest of the hall. Harry was still fighting amidst the soldiers on the staircase. Bill was visible on the opposite gallery, no longer disillusioned, and getting rid of the last soldier there. Good.

Neville got back to his attackers, a plan ready for whenever they'd drop the fire, when he did a double take and returned his eyes to Bill.

The column behind him was moving. Someone cracked its base and it was most certainly coming down onto Bill. His friend wasn't aware—he was facing the other way.

Neville's mouth moved to shout a warning and his arm moved to aim his wand. His shield disappeared and flames brushed the side of his face but Neville paid them no mind, focused only on saving his friend. He knew his spell wouldn't be able to reach the opposite gallery in time, though. His eyes flickered down, to Harry. Certainly, he was watching over Bill too, right?

And he was. One of Harry's wands was aimed towards the gallery and Bill. Neville saw the light of a spell formed at the tip, and relief flooded his body.

Only to see the wand snap at the last moment and release the spell in a wrong direction. It hit a wizard brandishing a dagger and stopped him inches away from cutting Harry's throat.

At the same time, the column collapsed down on Bill.

It crashed into the railing, the marble broke into heavy chunks and Bill disappeared somewhere underneath all of that stone and dust.

Neville growled. He sprung to his feet and jumped from the gallery, his adversaries completely forgotten. When he felt his body falling, he fired off an acceleration charm towards the ground that propelled him back into the air and over the remaining five metres to the opposite gallery. He landed ungracefully on the floor of the balcony, crunching into a roll. The hastily thrown cushioning charm only barely softened his fall and he rolled to a stop by the wall with a painful grunt. The bricks over his head immediately erupted under spellfire and a moment later, a cutting curse hit his right shoulder. He lost control of the muscles in the arm and his wand slipped from his fingers.

He didn't let that faze him. His spare wand slid from its holster into his left palm. Still crouching low on the ground, he aimed it in the general direction of the accosting spellfire. He released a hasty Bombarda, the spell fuelled more by the fear for his friend and his own pain than any conscious casting. Still, the wall exploded and showered the wizard standing in front of it with bricks and mortar. Neville quickly finished him off with a silent Reducto.

With that taken care of, he turned towards the spot where he'd last seen Bill. He quickly summoned his first wand back but his right arm was truly out of commission. Using his left, he awkwardly levitated some of the debris away, making it fall down over the edge of the balcony. He relied on Harry to keep the others occupied whilst he worked. He repeated the process and there- he saw Bill's legs sticking out from underneath a large fragment of the marble, the rest of the body wedged in between the collapsed column and the railing. Neville hurried over, levitating the rest of the marble away and firing off a simple scanning spell at his friend.

Bill was still breathing. His chest was almost completely caved in, his ribs were broken, his spine was probably crashed and his organs most likely punctuated, but somehow, he was still breathing. Neville sighed in relief. Merlin bless the resilience of wizards.

Hidden from the rest of the hall by the collapsed marble, Neville crouched over Bill's broken body and went to utilised all the field medicine he'd ever learned. Firing off a more complicated diagnostic charm, he frowned as he watched the hue of the spell go black above Bill's chest and neck. He cancelled the charm, stopped the bleeding he could see and put Bill's body into a stasis, trying to remember if he'd ever been told anything more useful beyond avoid mending charms and get the injured to a healer if the diagnosis charm turned black.

He heard a rumbling noise above his head. He looked up in time to see the rest of the columns, all eight of them, crashing down towards them. Not missing a beat, he brought his wand upwards, crunching low over his friend and praying to gods his shield charms were up for this.

Just as his shield sprung over their heads, he paused. There was something off about the way the columns were falling–rather slow, and- organised? He noticed the red carpet then, wrapped around each of the pillars. It almost looked like the fabric was gently laying the stone down, into protective walls around Neville and Bill.

Harry's magic, Neville realised, dropping his shield. A moment later, the wizard himself jumped through the quickly closing gap between the converging pillars and with a quiet thud and a small earthquake, the tons and tons of marble settled down behind him. They were now enclosed from all sides, with a barrier of horizontal columns in front of them, and the original wall behind them. The only light came from the hole in the wall that Neville punched with his Bombarda a minute ago.

He lit his wand and sent the ball of light to hover above Bill. He looked up–Harry had his back towards them, one of his wands tapping the stone barricade. The next second, a wave of magic spread from its tip. A wave so strong it gave Neville goosebumps as it travelled past him. He recognised its feeling. He quickly closed his eyes and hid his face in his shoulder but the subsequent flash stung his eyes anyway.

Blinking the lingering lights away from his eyes in the sudden silence, he couldn't help but feel impressed. It had been a while since he had seen a wizard whip up a ward this powerful in the middle of a fight.

He forced his panting heart to slow down, knowing the ward would only give them a short respite to catch their breath. There was no way of knowing how quickly their enemies would go about disabling it, but at least the ward should give them a few second warning when they'd get close.

Harry spun to face him then. Neville flinched; he looked furious.

"I told you to go the other way," he growled. "I told you I couldn't protect you!"

He sent his own diagnostic spell at Bill's injured form. His eyes widened when it connected. "He needs a healer. I… I wouldn't know where to start."

Neville nodded absentmindedly, busy fishing for the right vial in his belt. There it was; the smallest of them all. He unscrewed the cork and levitated the three clear drops out towards Bill's mouth. He hesitated then, looking at his friend's destroyed chest. He changed his course of action, spreading the drops into one thin layer and levelling the tears straight over the injuries.

Harry slowly crouched down next to Neville, only to collapse the rest of the way to the floor, leaning his back against the bottom pillar. That was the first time he showed any signs of fatigue. He watched Neville administer the Phoenix tears. "That might have been a waste; the tears won't do much while he's in stasis."

Neville glanced at him. Harry was sweating through his robes, his face was flushed and dirty. He seemed unharmed, though. "Do you have any better ideas?"

Harry frowned. "Take care of your arm. I'll think of a plan in the meantime."

Neville didn't hesitate to listen. He applied a numbing charm at his shoulder. When it took effect, he followed with a crude healing charm that stitched the ripped muscle almost immediately. He stopped the bleeding and frowned at the messy result. It would have to be open again once he got to safety but it'd do for now. He took a salve from his potion belt, conjured a soft brush at the tip of his wand and applied a layer over the burns on his face and neck.

Harry was busy too, and Neville watched him with the corner of his eye the whole time. He exed a dose of Pepper-up, the vial seemingly appearing from thin air. He sent a more advanced stasis spell at Bill, making his body so frigid Neville could feel the bite of it from half a metre away. Lastly, he conjured a stretcher, gently levitated Bill to rest on it and secure him there with thick straps.

He turned to Neville then, his eyes hard. "Do you have the brooms Teddy gave you?"

Neville nodded shortly.

"There's a balcony a few rooms away." Harry pointed at the collapsed wall. "Hide through there and wait till I drop the ward. Once the fighting starts again, carry through a door on your left. The balcony will be in the fourth office you'll enter. Keep it quiet, there'll be soldiers in the hall next door the whole time."

He waited for Neville to nod before he carried on. "Once you're out, fly close to the building and then close to the ground. Use your Portkey as soon as possible. A healer will be waiting there."

Harry got to his feet. "I'll keep everyone busy in the meantime. But I'll have to wrap this up soon, too. Tom's considering to join us here and as much fun as that would be, I see no point in us having a go at it tonight."

Neville hurriedly got up himself and took control of Bill's stretcher from Harry, floating it towards him. If Voldemort was on his way here, Neville certainly didn't plan to sit around and wait.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Hold on for a sec." Harry aimed his wand at the wall and sent two silent spells at in quick succession. The first one carved a hole through the bricks and the second one flew right through it.

By the surprised intake of breath Neville heard the next moment, it hit someone on the other side.

"You wouldn't happen to know the Fiendfyre curse, would you?" Harry called softly when a soldier mechanically climbed through the collapsed wall. "That would make my work here so much easier."

Harry sighed when the young wizard shook his head. Neville recognised the tell-tale empty eyes, a clear giveaway of a compulsion charm.

"Of course you wouldn't. Riddle made them all forget that spell ever existed," Harry explained towards Neville, only to go silent as a contemplative smile started growing on his face. He leaned closer. "But you remember it well enough, don't you, Nev?"

Neville's eyes narrowed. He didn't like where Harry was going with this. "I've never had much luck with that spell. The only time I conjured it, I only barely managed to contain it and that was when I had Minerva there helping me."

Harry's smile only grew more dangerous at that. "Containing it won't be a problem here."

Neville listened, dread settling in his stomach, as Harry amended the plan with newfound energy. "When you are standing on the balcony, I want you to turn back and send Fiendfyre into the building. A small spark will do. Let go of your control immediately and then flee."

Harry almost growled that last word.

"That's an order, Nev. Don't play brave and don't change anything. I have a plan and if you decide to mess with it, you most certainly end up killing Bill and yourself. When the Fiendfyre leaves your wand, let it roam freely, sit down on your broom and fly away. Don't linger. Don't turn back. I mean it. I'd really hate to see you burnt to a crisp by the cursed fire."

The image of Ginny Weasley flashed before Neville's eyes, brought forward by Harry's words. A moment later, Neville saw Harry flinch and look away with a pained expression.

Did he just... Neville's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Did Harry got reminded of the same, or did he just skim Neville's thoughts?

Harry schooled his face into an impassive mask. "Go, Nev. Now," he barked.

Neville stared at him for a short moment and then nodded. There would be a better time to ask his questions.

He walked past the confounded soldier. If Neville knew Harry's style at all by now, the wizard would be soon used as a human shield. Neville looked into his youthful face and felt nothing else but cold practicality. The years of fighting the Death Eaters had honed any pity out of him and apparently, he was back to that setting now.

He looked back at Harry one more time before he jumped through the hole. The stretcher with Bill dutifully followed.

They didn't encounter anyone on their way out. It was dark and still in the rooms here, a stark contrast to the shouting and booms of spellfire only a thin wall away, where Harry had resumed the fighting.

They arrived at the balcony in less than two minutes. Neville opened its glass doors and stepped out into the night's air. It faced away from the river, and there was only a couple of lit streets between the library and the darkness of the muggle city that surrounded the magical centre of Budapest.

There was no one in sight.

He let Bill's stretcher float over the railing. He reached into his pouch and took out the trusty old Nimbus that Teddy had given him together with their potions and other equipment only few hours ago. Holding it ready in his left hand, he aimed his wand back inside the library.

He took a deep breath, gathered his focus and willed the cursed fire to flare out of his wand.

It started as a small wisp of smoke but it quickly grew into a flame and then into a blaze. It flew from his wand in shapes that Neville didn't recognise from his viewpoint, and it attacked the wall on the other side of the room. Neville let it consume the frames hanging there and then the bricks and the mortar and then the tapestries and the books and the wizard- Neville couldn't see but he could feel all that the fire devoured, jumping from one object to another, wheezing in joy.

Something foreign roared in his ears and ripped the flames out of Neville's veins.

And suddenly, he wasn't the Fyre anymore. He was just a wizard staring at the cursed flames wreaking havoc inside the library.

Neville realised his mistake then. He forgot to let go off the Fiendfyre. His eyes widen as the flames seemed to notice him. They stirred in the air for a beat and then hurled his way.

Neville forewent mounting and jumped over the railing with the broomstick in his hand. The stretcher with Bill followed.

He heard the flames burst out from the door above his head.

He wasn't even nearly skilled enough to mount the broom midair. His free fall took him dangerously close to the paved courtyard beneath the balcony before he found his bearings and willed the broomstick to slow down and even up. The abrupt deceleration swung his body aside violently but he managed to hold on to the handle, hanging from it with both of his arms and wiggling his legs uselessly until his toes finally touched the ground. He quickly yanked the broom from the air and somehow got his leg over it. He was mounted and flying in less than a second. He shot away from the library with little care about who might see him, hoping that any possible audience would be preoccupied with the havoc the Fiendfyre was wreaking behind him.

His flight wasn't graceful but he managed to keep the broom in a straight line with a deadly grip; the rage of the fyre that kept pursuing him, watching him, propelled him into a nauseating speed. He checked on Bill several times but the stretcher was by his side the whole time, following the pull of his wand.

He crossed over several rows of houses before he remembered to breathe again. The flames gave up their chase by now, roaring in a distance. But only when he landed on a roof terrace, called Bill's stretchers closer and was ready to say the catchphrase to the Portkey, did he turn around.

The whole library was ablaze, its many wings and the dome drowning in green flames.

He watched it burn for a short moment.

"Running for the hills," he whispered then.

As the Portkey whisked them both away, a silly thought entered his mind. He hoped there were copies of all those books somewhere else in the world. Otherwise, Hermione would never speak to Harry again.

AN: Uff, this was a lot of work - the very first magical action scene I've written in English. Let me know what could be improved.

You probably have some questions. Feel free to ask: so I can make sure Neville will, too.

And if you enjoyed the chapter, do let me know: every one of your comments is very precious to me.

My thanks to Dylan Pidge for his help beta-reading.