Chapter 32: The Assault
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Chapter 32: The Assault
Black Lake, Scotland, November 16th, 2005
As far as Ron could tell, Dumbledore's only visible reaction was a slight frown as he said: "It seems we have unexpected visitors." He tilted his head and pushed a button. "Argus?"
"Sir! Someone's attacking the building!" Filch's voice came from a hidden speaker. "We've lost contact with the patrols and the entrance team."
Ron suppressed a hiss. That was worse than he had feared.
"Are we re-enacting Eben-Emael?" Sirius asked.
Ron took a second to place the reference. The Belgian fortress, taken by German paratroopers landing on top of it in World War II.
"I hope not," Dumbledore replied. "We do have more options than the Belgians did." The old man was still infuriatingly calm.
"If they've taken out the patrols and the guards at the entrance, then they're already inside the building." Harry pointed out the obvious.
"They'll need to go through several choke points before they reach this level," Dumbledore countered. "However, I think it would be prudent to arm ourselves - just in case." He nodded towards Hermione. "You have your armoury with you."
Had the old spymaster arranged all of this to see the bag of holding in action? No. But he certainly took advanatge of the opportunity as soon as it appeared. Although it wasn't as if they had any choice - and Dumbledore was already aware of the bag's potential, anyway.
Hermione must have come to the same conclusion since she quickly started pulling out weapons, ammunition and bulletproof vests.
"Fascinating. Is the diameter of the opening its only limit?"
"No, the internal space is extended, but its capacity is definitely limited," Hermione replied.
"Technically limited, I presume," Dumbledore said. He hadn't moved to arm himself - though Ron was sure that the old man was already carrying a pistol. Not the best choice for a firefight - but then, while Dumbledore was quite fit for his age, he was nevertheless in his eighties.
Ron grabbed his favourite assault rifle and the spare mags Hermione was pulling out. Harry, Sirius and the others did likewise. "Let's hope Filch remembers more about fighting than he does about military manners," Sirius mumbled.
"Oh, he does remember both," Dumbledore commented. "He is, however, quite selective about when he uses either."
Sirius scoffed in return. "Typical."
Ron ignored the exchange and looked at Luna and Ginny gearing up. They had trained for this - specifically indoor fighting, in fact, over the last few days stuck inside - but they weren't trained soldiers or police officers. But how to tell them to stay back without triggering a row? "Is there a secret escape tunnel?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, we haven't quite finished the emergency exit into the lake - the airlock required hasn't yet been delivered," Dumbledore replied. "And the excavation work for a tunnel hasn't progressed very far, either." He tilted his head and sighed. "It was deemed to be too much of a security risk to involve too many workers in either - in hindsight, a bad decision, though quite understandable at the time."
"Great. We're trapped like rats," Harry commented.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Not exactly."
Ron turned to face her, frowning. She couldn't be thinking...
"You plan to activate your portal?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.
"I'd rather not," she told him. "It's very dangerous. But if the alternative is getting captured or killed by Russian spies…"
"I vote for the portal!" Luna piped up.
"Won't that take too long, anyway?" Harry asked. But he was glancing at Ginny, Ron noticed.
"An hour is about the minimum," Hermione replied.
"Then you'd better start now," Sirius said. "Luna and Ginny can guard you."
Ron's sister opened her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore spoke up before she could say anything. "I think the laboratory will make for a good last line of defence. I will relocate there as well, to coordinate our efforts."
"If someone disturbs me while I'm performing the ritual, the consequences will be catastrophic," Hermione pointed out. "I'll need guards."
There wasn't much Ginny could say in the face of that. She tried anyway, of course, as they moved to Hermione's lab. "You don't need two guards - Ron was always the only guard in the lab."
"We weren't under attack, then," he pointed out.
"And how could anyone get past you? If I'm with you, the odds are better that no one will get past us in the first place!"
"Ginny," Harry said, "Luna's needed for surveillance, Dumbledore for coordination, Hermione does the ritual. You're the only one left to protect them,"
"But…" She was shaking her head, lips pressed together, tears in her eyes.
If this weren't about fighting Russian secret agents, Ron would've been moved to give in.
But as things were? Ginny and Luna stayed with Hermione and Dumbledore while Ron, Harry and Sirius went up a level to join the defenders.
There, Filch's men - a dozen that Ron could see - were setting up firing positions that reminded him far too much of the opening scene of Star Wars.
"I take it that the ground floor has been lost, then," Sirius commented.
Filch glared at him from where he was directing the rest but nodded curtly. "The survivors are falling back to the staircase."
"We won't be able to hold the stairs," Sirius replied. "They can just chuck grenades down at us."
As if to underline his words, they heard an explosion from upstairs.
Filch bared his teeth. "I know. But we can slow them down a little more. Reinforcements are on the way, and every minute counts."
And would be paid for in blood, Ron thought. But at least the staircases were split - the one connecting the first of the basement floors with the ground floor and the upper floors was on the other end from the one leading to the lower basement floors and Hermione's lab. They had more room to set up here.
"The lift shaft is a weakness," Sirius said.
"Mined," Filch snapped back.
"Ah."
Ron couldn't help glancing at the lift in question. That was a radical solution.
"Is the garage secure?" Harry asked. It was a good question, Ron felt. If the additional generators were taken out, Hermione's escape plan would be doomed from the start.
"We've got two vehicles there, covering the entrances," Filch reported. "And the gates are reinforced."
"And the enemy, as far as we can tell, isn't focusing on the garage. Either an oversight, or they do not wish to split their forces," Dumbledore's voice sounded through the radio. "However, that might not remain the case for long. Also, they are quickly overwhelming the remaining security staff on the ground floor. Pull them back, Argus."
"Yes, sir."
As Filch gave the command, Ron looked around. The men were set up well, in his opinion. And the stairs and lift were choke points, both covered from all angles. They were even hastily setting up Claymore mines. Pushing through here wouldn't be quick or easy.
Sirius must have come to the same conclusion. "We'll reinforce the garage," he said, "and serve as reserves."
Filch grunted in return, his eyes focused on the door to the stairs, where three men, one being carried, entered. "Close it!" one of them yelled. "There's no one left alive up top!"
A moment later, massive doors slid shut behind them.
"Medic's set up in the infirmary below. Drop Palmer there and come back!" Filch snapped before glancing at them.
"Let's move!" Sirius told them, striding back to the stairs.
In the garage, things weren't looking quite as good. Two vehicles - the armoured SUVs they had used on the trip to meet their parents - had been driven into the centre of the garage, facing the gates, but the four men inside them were wielding assault rifles and were ready to fire out of the windows.
"Even a technical would be better than this," Sirius muttered. "At least they have set up in a way that won't draw fire to the generators. Let's set up the machine guns. The support pillars will hamper our field of fire, but it's the best way to stop a rush through the gates."
"What if they come through the roof?" Harry asked.
"We'll set up at the entrance to the stairs," Sirius said. "That should keep us safe enough to fall back."
"I've got a drone up in the air," Luna announced through their radios while they were using another armoured car to set up. "They're still focusing on the building, I think."
Tunnel vision? Sticking with the plan no matter what? Or was it another feint? Ron had no idea, but he glanced at the ceiling. Shaped charges would go through it, if they were powerful enough - or if you used enough. And the Russians were always ready to use brute force.
Another explosion, far stronger than a mere grenade, rang out - behind them.
"They've blown the doors on the first basement floor!" Luna told them.
Ron glanced at Harry and Sirius. "Should we…?"
"Not yet," Sirius said. "Dumbledore will tell us if we're needed back there."
"So far my men are holding," they heard Dumbledore say - he was listening to Luna's channel, Ron realised. "Although they've already lost two men in the exchange. The enemy fared worse, however."
"How many men do they have, anyway? Did they sneak in an entire company?" Sirius complained. "Were the RAF and the Royal Navy asleep on the job?"
"I doubt they arrived legally in the country. Probably dropped out of an unsuspicious cargo plane with fake freight papers flying over Scotland," Harry replied.
Ron wouldn't have expected Putin to go so far. On the other hand, after 9/11 and the large-scale hostage incidents in Russia, 'terrorists' could be blamed for a lot. Still, there would be consequences for this, Ron was sure of it.
Not that that would matter much if they couldn't hold out until relieved. The Russians would be aware that reinforcements were on the way, though - that would explain their stubbornness in the face of mounting casualties.
Still, trying to press a charge through a choke point? That made walking towards the German lines in the Somme look like a smart plan. And Putin wasn't dumb. "They'll come through here, too," he said. "Luna, can you see movement near the garage? Or on top of us?"
"Uh… the doors are clear… oh. There are a few people above you. Placing… a bomb!"
Damn.
"Move back!" Sirius yelled. "They're going to blow the ceiling!" He was already dropping into the armoured SUV, closing the roof as if it were a tank's hatch. Harry simply pulled his rifle back inside the car and ducked, but Ron was caught in the open - between the car and the door behind him.
Cursing, he whirled and sprinted towards the door. He had almost reached it when the ceiling exploded, and the shock wave threw him down on to the ground, knocking the breath out of him. He rolled to the side, gasping as concrete fragments dropped down all around him and a cloud of dust engulfed him, barely managing to keep a grip on his rifle.
Hacking and coughing, he scrambled up, holding one arm over his head, and stumbled forward, towards the door. Or where he thought the door was - he couldn't see anything. He stumbled over something on the ground - debris, as he found when he fell on hard, jagged concrete - and once more rolled across the floor. But he had hit the wall, which meant he could use it as a guide as he crawled towards the door.
Shots started to ring out, followed by screams. From above.
"They're firing down. And they're rappelling!" Luna announced. "Ron! Are you OK?"
"I'm alright," he blurted out as he reached the door and slid around it, into the staircase behind. No one had shot at him, or if they had, he hadn't noticed.
The dust was starting to settle, and Ron could make out movement above - in the giant hole left in the ceiling. He raised his rifle, leaned against the corner, and took aim.
His first burst missed, and the man sliding down the line vanished behind a car before Ron could fire again. But he caught the next attacker as he pushed off from the roof, leaving the man dangling limply from the rope.
Sirius was back - Ron recognised the sound of the machine gun - but as he searched for another target, he saw that one of the cars Dumbledore's men had set up had been crushed by a massive part of the ceiling that hadn't broken up. That didn't look like… Movement!
Ron aimed at a figure running through the dissipating dust cloud, towards the second car in the centre of the garage. But if that was a survivor… A burst cut the man down, rendering the point moot without revealing his identity.
"Bloody hell! How many are there?" Sirius cursed over the radio. "New belt! Need a new belt!"
Ron caught another attacker rappelling down, but only winged the man, and then had to duck back around the corner when someone started firing at the door. "They're assembling on the floor!" he yelled.
"I need to reload!" Sirius yelled back. "Finally!"
Once more, the machine gun rang out.
"Gotcha, bastard!"
A moment later, the second SUV on their side vanished in an explosion.
"RPG!" Harry announced.
"Where?"
Ron exposed himself, frantically searching for the shooter. How long did it take to reload an RPG launcher? They'd take out Sirius and Harry next - or Ron himself.
There! A man was rising behind concrete debris, aiming a rocket launcher. Ron fired while moving, emptying his magazine. The recoil sent most bullets into the ceiling, but he managed to control the rifle long enough to hit the gunner. The Russian jerked, stumbling back, and started to fall.
And pulled the trigger, sending the rocket-propelled grenade flying - directly towards the generators in the corner.
Ron's eyes widened, and he threw himself to the ground moments before the grenade exploded. He jumped up at once, ignoring the pain in his side and leg - falling down on concrete debris hurt, even if you were wearing a vest - and reloaded his rifle as he fell back.
"Bloody hell!" he cursed - one generator was wrecked. Worse, Ron could see fire spreading around it - the explosion must have torn up the fuel lines. "We need to get out!" he yelled. "It's on fire!"
"What?" Luna asked. "Oh, no! The generators!"
So much for the portal, Ron thought as he crouched near the door and started to lay down some covering fire. "Pull back! Pull back!"
The door of the armoured car was pushed open, and Harry jumped out, rolling over his shoulder. He came up firing, using the door as cover. Behind him, Sirius followed, dragging the machine gun with him.
Someone started shooting at them, and Ron shifted his fire - then had to reload. But it was enough for Sirius to dash across the gap between the car and the debris in front of the door, and a moment later, he was back to shooting.
The fire was spreading quickly, though - it had already engulfed all the generators and was moving towards the closest cars. Ron could feel the heat from the approaching flames. "Harry!" he yelled.
His friend looked at him, then turned and started to sprint towards him. Bullets struck the ground near his legs.
Ron emptied his magazine in the direction from which the shots had come, but couldn't even see the shooter. He didn't think Sirius saw them, either. But if they made the enemy duck for even a second…
Harry screamed and fell, rolling across the ground, his rifle flying from his hands and sliding across the floor.
"Harry!" Sirius screamed.
"Cover me!" Ron yelled and jumped up, firing the last of his bullets blindly as he rushed towards his friend. Harry was on the ground, with no or minimal cover - and exposed to enemy fire. He was moving, but slowly - and there was blood pooling on the ground.
"Damn!"
Ron let go of his rifle, letting it dangle from the sling, and pulled out a smoke grenade as he jumped over a larger piece of debris. Bullets started to hit the ground and rubble near him, and he threw himself into a combat roll to throw off the enemy's aim. His rifle was jerked around in the process, hitting his knee hard enough for him to yell with pain, and almost got stuck between two bent pieces of rebar. He managed to pull it off, though, and lobbed the smoke grenade behind Harry before dropping to the floor. Trying to ignore the pain in his leg, he crawled towards his friend as thick, black smoke started to fill the area.
Sirius finally got his machine gun reloaded and added suppressive fire - at least Ron hoped he did; he couldn't see anything in the smoke. But he could hear Sirius's gun and he just had to go straight to reach Harry.
Just a few more yards.
Something struck his forehead, hard, and for a terrifying moment, he thought he had been shot dead. But he didn't die, even though blood was running down the side of his face. A glancing blow, then, or a concrete fragment sent flying by a bullet.
He crawled on, another yard, then another… and then his hand didn't meet hard, jagged concrete, but something softer. "Harry!"
"Ron?"
"I've got you!" Ron quickly shifted his position, groaning at the pain in his knee, and wiped some blood from his head before he grabbed Harry under the shoulders. "Let's get out of here!"
The smoke wouldn't last forever, and if the attackers kept firing into the thick of it, they would hit them sooner or later,
"You know the way?" Harry asked, far too weakly. "I seem to have gotten lost a bit."
"Don't joke about that," Ron shot back as he heaved and dragged his friend over a broken square of concrete.
They were about halfway back to the door, and the smoke hadn't grown any thinner yet. Perhaps they'd get lucky, for once.
Then Ron felt the heat and gasped. The smoke hadn't grown thinner because the fire from the generators was about to reach them! "Bloody hell!" he cursed, frantically pulling at Harry. "Hurry! The fire's about to reach us!"
"Fuck!" Harry spat. "Ron…"
Ron cut him off. "Shut up and crawl, damn it!"
The heat was growing worse. And Sirius's machine gun had fallen silent again. Were those flames he could see to his right? Flickering over the floor, trailing the leaking fuel?
"Leave me!" Harry groaned. "Save yourself!"
"Fuck you!" Ron shot back. He screamed with frustration and pain as he stopped crawling and crouched, then pulled Harry on to his shoulder. "Just shut up!"
His knee hurt like hell, and he yelled even more when he rose, but he managed to stand up with Harry over his shoulder. Yes, those were flames reaching for them. He tried to run - but his knee didn't let him. He almost collapsed, then forced himself to go on, limping and stumbling towards Sirius, screaming all the way.
A figure appeared in the smoke. Ron reached for his pistol, almost dropping Harry, before he recognised Sirius.
"I've got you!"
Ron felt himself pulled forward, then pushed from behind, Harry's weight growing lighter, and stumbled on. He was pulled to the side after a few steps, then pushed forward again, then crashed into something - a railing.
"Close the door!" he heard Sirius yell. "The fire's almost in the staircase!"
Ron turned - the smoke was lighter, less dense here - dragging Harry, who had slid from his shoulder but was still clinging to it, along just in time to see the door close behind them.
Then he did drop his friend as he collapsed in a coughing fit. "Sirius!" he managed to blurt out as he spat and coughed, "Get him to Hermione!"
"Harry! Oh my God! Harry!"
Ron blinked. That sounded like Ginny. But she was…
"Drink this! Drink it!"
Oh.
Ron leaned against the wall and slowly started to slide down to the floor. His sister had brought potions. Smart. Should've thought of that.
He tried to snort, which turned into another coughing fit, before someone grabbed his head and he felt a vial on his lips.
"Drink, Ron!"
The potion tasted awful, but his pain vanished at once.
Well, most of it vanished. His knee still hurt. Harry, though… Ron forced himself to stand and check on his friend. Ginny was kneeling next to him, cutting away parts of Harry's trousers to check on his thigh wound. "How is he?"
"I'm fine," Harry whispered. He didn't look fine, of course - he was pale, and Ron didn't think he could stand.
"You're not fine!" Ginny spat. She turned her head to look at Ron and Sirius. "We need to get him down to the laboratory so we can feed him another potion."
"Alright," Sirius agreed at once. "It's not as if the Russians will be able to attack through the fire raging in the garage, so this flank's secure."
"For the moment," Ron said.
"Long enough," the older man replied. "By the time the fire dies down, we'll be dead or safe."
Ron chuckled at that - morbid or not, it was correct.
They grabbed Harry by the arms and pulled him up, ignoring his protests that he could walk if they just gave him a moment.
A minute later, they entered the laboratory, where Hermione was still performing the ritual. Which depended on power she wouldn't have access to, Ron realised. "Bloody hell!" he mumbled. Could he tell her? Would that distract her enough to mess up the ritual anyway? But if he didn't tell her, would that be worse?
"Ron! Are you alright?" Luna asked, interrupting his thoughts. "You're bleeding!"
He swallowed his first response. This wasn't Luna's fault. None of it was. "I'm alright," he said. "Potion fixed it. But Harry…" He glanced over his shoulder.
Ginny was offering a potion to his friend. "Drink!"
"We should save it for emergencies," Harry replied.
"This is an emergency, you idiot!" she hissed.
"Drink it, Harry. We're still under attack," Sirius chimed in.
"Oh, yes," Luna told them. "They're still fighting upstairs."
Ron tried to ignore them. Tell Hermione, or not? So far, they hadn't talked during any of the rituals. But… it couldn't be too bad, or she would've taken more precautions, wouldn't she? He walked up to the ritual circle. At least if this was a mistake, he'd be right at her side. He noticed her eyes tracking him as he approached. "The generators in the garage are gone," he whispered.
She seemed to grow tense for a moment, though she never stopped moving her hands and mumbling syllables in a language he couldn't quite place as she nodded.
He took a step back, hesitated, then took a few more steps back. She didn't seem to be panicking, so it should be alright. It had to be alright.
He couldn't just stay and watch her, though. He turned away, glancing at Harry. His friend was about to be force-fed a potion - a Blood-Replenishing Potion, Ron recognised the colour of the vial - by Ginny. He'd be okay then.
Ron headed towards Dumbledore. The old man was sitting at Hermione's desk, although he was using a laptop of his own. And there was another laptop there - presumably Luna's.
"How are we doing?"
"Adequate, so far - despite their numerical superiority, the enemy hasn't managed to breach our lines of defence."
"Yet," Ron felt compelled to add. The Russians would've broken through in the garage if not for the fire.
"We need but hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive," Dumbledore replied.
"And how long will that be?" Ron asked.
"About half an hour, at most," Dumbledore told him.
That wasn't good news. Ron was about to say so, but he noticed Luna approaching them. "Helicopters?" he asked instead.
"Yes. Not armed helicopters, unfortunately - Her Majesty's Government frowns on private companies using attack helicopters."
"With good reason!" Luna interjected. "If you could take over by force of arms, you wouldn't have to bribe the government any more!"
Dumbledore laughed at that. "Quite, Miss Lovegood. How is the situation up top?"
"Oh. One moment." She took a peek at her own laptop. "Apart from the fire burning in the garage, which has driven away the people trying to enter, unchanged."
"Then I fear they will focus on breaking through the stairs with renewed vigour," the old spymaster told them. "They, too, will be aware that they will soon run out of time."
"Bloody Russians," Ron muttered. "Then we better get back up top to help hold them off." He turned to Ginny. "You keep guard here."
"Like hell I will!" she yelled at him. "I'm coming with you! We trained for this, and I'm not going to hold back whoever gets past you by myself!"
"They have to go through the massive door, first," Ron pointed out.
"They'll just blow it up."
"I'm afraid I have to agree with that assessment," Dumbledore cut in. "They had shaped charges to get through the garage's roof - they will have more of them to get through the doors inside."
"And I can deal out potions!" Ginny told him. "You almost died without me."
Before Ron could refute that, Luna hefted a rifle. "I'm coming too," she said. "At this point, aerial surveillance is not very important any more, and Mr Dumbledore can keep an eye on my screen."
Ron glanced at Hermione, just to check if she suddenly wanted to join as well, but she was still performing the ritual. Stuck doing it, as far as he knew. But to take Ginny and Luna with them...
"Time's running out!" Luna told him.
"She's right. Let's move," Sirius said. "Before we get defeated in detail."
Ron glanced at Harry, but his friend only nodded with gritted teeth. Ron muttered a curse and turned towards the stairs. At the very least, he'd do all he could to stay between Ginny and Luna and the enemy.
Upstairs looked like a scene out of a war movie - on the losing side. Filch and three others were the only ones left fighting, or so it seemed, and they were in or at the doorway, shooting from behind improvised barricades. Half a dozen others were on the floor, unconscious or dead at first glance. Damn.
"We need to push them back!" Sirius yelled. "We're too concentrated here - that's begging for a grenade."
Filch leaned back into cover and snarled. "Tell that to the enemy; they're not cooperating!"
Sirius snorted and crouched down, getting his machine gun ready. "Well, let's see what…"
"Grenade!" one of the guards yelled, shooting wildly. "Got him!" the man yelled, followed by an explosion on the enemy side.
"Ah, shooting them before they can throw," Sirius said. "That we can help with." He leaned around the corner and fired several bursts at the other side.
Ron used the opportunity to speed-crawl past the door, to the other side. He got up and started firing around the corner as well. "Come on, Harry!"
His friend joined him a few seconds later. Luna stayed with Sirius, but, of course, Ginny followed Harry. Damn. She should have stayed on the other side - easier to fall back to the basement from there. And supplying Sirius with enough belts for his machine gun would occupy both her and Luna.
But the enemy's fire grew stronger. Filch yelled: "Prepare for a push!" And Ron no longer had the time to send Ginny back. Instead, he had to duck before moving forward behind a toppled sturdy metal table with some thick planks piled up behind it.
It was a decent, but not perfect, barricade - ahead of Ron, a bullet punched through it. A moment later, one of the remaining guards fell down, yelling and holding his bleeding leg. Ron cursed again and stood, snapping off a few quick shots before ducking down again.
This was getting worse with every second. Sirius had already gone through a belt and was reloading with Luna's help.
"Grenade!" someone yelled, and Ron felt as if his blood froze in his veins. He got up, rifle firing, but the Russian had managed to get into position on the side, and Ron's bullets hit him after he had already thrown the grenade.
He gasped, turning and diving to the floor, knowing it wouldn't be quick enough to save him, but Ginny leapt up next to him, swinging her rifle like a bat - no, like a racket.
And hit the grenade, sending it back towards the enemy position.
The grenade exploded a second later, and Ginny, who had been diving to the floor, but hadn't quite made it in time, yelled as she was thrown to the side.
Then she screamed, holding her leg - her calf was bleeding something fierce. Bullet or grenade fragment, Ron couldn't tell, but there was blood all over her leg.
"Get a potion!" he snapped, but she just kept holding her leg and screaming.
Cursing once more, he crawled towards her. "Keep them suppressed!"
Sirius's machine gun started up again, providing some covering fire when he reached Ginny and started to go through her webbing's pockets and pouches to find a vial. "Stay calm!"
"It bloody hurts!" she yelled back. "And I can't stop the bleeding!"
"Where's the damned potion?"
"Thigh pocket."
Who'd put anything there? But he found the right pocket, and the right potion, handing it to Ginny. "Drink!"
"Put pressure on my leg," she yelled back.
He did so, wincing as her blood covered his hands, but she drank the potion, and he could feel her wound knitting itself closed under his hands. Not completely, though.
Sirius's gun fell silent again - Ron heard the older man yell for more ammunition - and Harry opened up with his rifle. "Get back down," he told Ginny.
"Forget it, I'm fine."
"I can feel the wound," he snapped. "Get it bandaged!"
Before she could reply, loud yelling filled the entire room. Screaming like banshees - or almost. Ron looked at Filch, who was once more firing wildly.
"Here they come!"
More shots rang out, peppering the entire area. Ron saw Filch jerk as several bullets hit him. Ron rolled across the floor - he had to get up and shoot back, but he also needed to get Ginny to safety. If there was any safety to be had.
Another grenade exploded behind him.
"Sirius!" he heard Luna scream. The machine gun fire had stopped, he realised. He gripped his gun. No time. "Crawl back!" he yelled to his sister, then rose, leading with his gun and firing blindly. Something hit his rifle, throwing it to the side and out of his hands before he got his head above the barricades. Then a screaming Russian jumped over the barricade and ploughed into him.
The man's bayonet sliced his left arm open, and Ron was smashed into the ground, the man landing on top of him, still screaming. He tried to pull back, but Ron hit him in the throat with his right hand, then in the face, smashing his nose. As the man reared back, Ron drew the knife from the sheath on his shoulder and started stabbing.
He didn't aim his blows - he just stabbed at the man's throat and head as fast as he could. Until the man's screams changed to a gurgling noise and blood hit Ron's face before the Russian collapsed.
Ron pushed him off, hissing in pain as his left arm felt as if it was on fire, and drew his pistol. Another Russian appeared on top of the barricades, firing wildly, but before he managed to lower his rifle to shoot at Ron, Ron shot him several times, and the man fell back.
Where was Ginny? Ron turned, looking for his sister, and gasped. She was on the ground, fighting a Russian who had gotten behind them with her bare hands. And there was another next to her. Ron shot one-handed, most of his rounds hitting the man's vest, but one hit the man's throat, and he went down, blood gushing from his forehead.
Ginny! Ron got to his knees, aiming - but if he missed, he might hit his sister! He moved forward, trying to keep his head below the shot-up barricades. He had made it halfway to them when the man's head snapped back, and Ginny twisted out of the way - no, despite her position on the ground, she wasn't twisting away - she launched another kick, with her good leg. She hit the man's head again, driving him further back - and up. Ron dropped so he could fire without endangering Ginny and shot the dazed man.
"Ginny!"
But she was crawling away already - towards Harry. Damn! The grenade - both Sirius and Harry were down!
"I need a potion!" Luna yelled, from where she was trying to help Sirius.
Before Ron could help either, something hit him in the back, and he was thrown to the ground.
He had been shot. In the back. Ron managed to roll on the side, but the pain... He screamed, raising his pistol, and more shots hit him, punching into his own vest hard enough to knock the breath out of him. Hard enough to break the plates.
His pistol went flying as he folded over, unable to do anything but yell and hold his stomach. He saw the man shift his position, the muzzle of the rifle swinging towards Ron, and forced himself to move, knowing it would be too late, but he couldn't let...
The man's head jerked back, blood and brain splattering against the wall next to them. Ron glanced over his shoulder and saw Ginny holding Harry's gun, blinking.
And there was Luna, firing at something or someone Ron couldn't see, on the other side of the barricades.
His stomach hurt like hell, but he couldn't see any blood. So the vest had kept the bullets from penetrating. Probably on his back as well - he wasn't dead, yet, anyway. Unlike pretty much the entire security force Filch had had left.
Good enough to fight some more. He dragged himself up into a sitting position and reached for the Kalashnikov a Russian had dropped. Half a magazine left. At least he'd be able to shoot anyone coming over the barricade from here, even if he couldn't stand.
But they weren't coming.
"What are they doing?" he yelled.
"Hiding!" Ginny yelled back.
Damn.
"We need to fall back." He gritted his teeth and crawled towards Luna. "Before they regroup and rush us again."
"What?"
"Fall back and close the doors." That would gain them a little more time. "We need to treat Harry and Sirius." And there were other wounded, weren't there? Damn, moving hurt. And his arm was still bleeding. But he could still move.
He blinked. The stairs were moving too. And… fading.
"Ron!"
"Ron!"
He woke up with a start. Where was he? Where were his friends? What… Ugh. His stomach and back still hurt. As did his arm.
"Ron!"
Ginny!
He looked around, He was on the stairs leading to Hermione's lab. The others… Oh, Harry was there, sitting on the stairs and looking like he had been thrown through a wood chipper, but he was alive and awake. And Sirius, in a similar state, was even aiming his machine gun upstairs.
"They'll get through the door above us soon," Harry said.
He glanced over his shoulder. Two wounded security men were hefting rifles as well. And there was Dumbledore, wearing a suit, handing out more ammunition.
So this was their final line of defence.
And where they would die. Damn.
"Luna?"
"Miss Lovegood is inside the lab, handling overwatch," Dumbledore informed him with a dry smile. "They took out the cameras, but she still has a drone in the air."
"Thank you," Ron replied. He glanced at his sister, who was kneeling next to Harry.
"Miss Weasley wouldn't move," Dumbledore told him.
Of course she wouldn't. Too stubborn for her own good. Ron scoffed. But there was nothing he could do about it.
"How much longer?" he asked instead.
"A few more minutes - they will be careful when placing the charges."
"They can't have many men left."
"They don't," Dumbledore agreed. "But more than we have. Enough to press the attack one more time."
That meant they had a chance. A small chance, but a chance nevertheless. Ron nodded and checked the rifle they had left next to him. Fully loaded. Good.
He was ready for them now. They'd have to go through him, over his dead body, to reach Hermione and Luna.
And he'd make them pay dearly for it.
He waited.
Minutes passed without an attack. Were the Russians trying something sneaky? He glanced up. Coming through the ceiling, perhaps? Attacking the lab would endanger Hermione, but the stairs would be fair game… But did they know that?
"Where are they?" Sirius muttered.
"They'll come. They've spent too many men to get to this point," Harry replied. "Bloody Russians."
But they didn't come. Minutes passed without an attack.
Then Luna appeared on the door to the lab.
"The helicopters have arrived! They're attacking the Russians from above!"
She stared at the circle and bit her lower lip again. Thus far, she had always strived to do her best - to cast every spell perfectly. To do the opposite, to deliberately fail at casting a spell… It went against every fibre of her being.
But she had to learn how to control a ritual that went wrong. And to do that, she had to train with failing rituals. She took a deep breath and recalled the instructions. If you lost control of a ritual, you needed to divert its magic. Exert some minimum of control to channel it into safe, or at least safer, effects. Preferably spells that were easy to cast. Or had harmless effects.
Like light. Although too much light would hurt as well.
She took a deep breath. She was a Gryffindor. It was dangerous, but she could handle it. It was a calculated risk.
She started the ritual. And after the first minute of chanting, she deliberately stopped.
For a moment, she felt light as a feather. Then she felt as if someone had put her in a vice and were squeezing her. She could sense the magic. But to direct it… She flicked her wand even though she knew that wouldn't work.
And she hissed with pain when it failed.
A minute later, she had regained her breath. And, after a few more minutes, her nerve.
This would take time.
Black Lake, Scotland, November 16th, 2005
As far as Ron could tell, Dumbledore's only visible reaction was a slight frown as he said: "It seems we have unexpected visitors." He tilted his head and pushed a button. "Argus?"
"Sir! Someone's attacking the building!" Filch's voice came from a hidden speaker. "We've lost contact with the patrols and the entrance team."
Ron suppressed a hiss. That was worse than he had feared.
"Are we re-enacting Eben-Emael?" Sirius asked.
Ron took a second to place the reference. The Belgian fortress, taken by German paratroopers landing on top of it in World War II.
"I hope not," Dumbledore replied. "We do have more options than the Belgians did." The old man was still infuriatingly calm.
"If they've taken out the patrols and the guards at the entrance, then they're already inside the building." Harry pointed out the obvious.
"They'll need to go through several choke points before they reach this level," Dumbledore countered. "However, I think it would be prudent to arm ourselves - just in case." He nodded towards Hermione. "You have your armoury with you."
Had the old spymaster arranged all of this to see the bag of holding in action? No. But he certainly took advanatge of the opportunity as soon as it appeared. Although it wasn't as if they had any choice - and Dumbledore was already aware of the bag's potential, anyway.
Hermione must have come to the same conclusion since she quickly started pulling out weapons, ammunition and bulletproof vests.
"Fascinating. Is the diameter of the opening its only limit?"
"No, the internal space is extended, but its capacity is definitely limited," Hermione replied.
"Technically limited, I presume," Dumbledore said. He hadn't moved to arm himself - though Ron was sure that the old man was already carrying a pistol. Not the best choice for a firefight - but then, while Dumbledore was quite fit for his age, he was nevertheless in his eighties.
Ron grabbed his favourite assault rifle and the spare mags Hermione was pulling out. Harry, Sirius and the others did likewise. "Let's hope Filch remembers more about fighting than he does about military manners," Sirius mumbled.
"Oh, he does remember both," Dumbledore commented. "He is, however, quite selective about when he uses either."
Sirius scoffed in return. "Typical."
Ron ignored the exchange and looked at Luna and Ginny gearing up. They had trained for this - specifically indoor fighting, in fact, over the last few days stuck inside - but they weren't trained soldiers or police officers. But how to tell them to stay back without triggering a row? "Is there a secret escape tunnel?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, we haven't quite finished the emergency exit into the lake - the airlock required hasn't yet been delivered," Dumbledore replied. "And the excavation work for a tunnel hasn't progressed very far, either." He tilted his head and sighed. "It was deemed to be too much of a security risk to involve too many workers in either - in hindsight, a bad decision, though quite understandable at the time."
"Great. We're trapped like rats," Harry commented.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Not exactly."
Ron turned to face her, frowning. She couldn't be thinking...
"You plan to activate your portal?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.
"I'd rather not," she told him. "It's very dangerous. But if the alternative is getting captured or killed by Russian spies…"
"I vote for the portal!" Luna piped up.
"Won't that take too long, anyway?" Harry asked. But he was glancing at Ginny, Ron noticed.
"An hour is about the minimum," Hermione replied.
"Then you'd better start now," Sirius said. "Luna and Ginny can guard you."
Ron's sister opened her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore spoke up before she could say anything. "I think the laboratory will make for a good last line of defence. I will relocate there as well, to coordinate our efforts."
"If someone disturbs me while I'm performing the ritual, the consequences will be catastrophic," Hermione pointed out. "I'll need guards."
There wasn't much Ginny could say in the face of that. She tried anyway, of course, as they moved to Hermione's lab. "You don't need two guards - Ron was always the only guard in the lab."
"We weren't under attack, then," he pointed out.
"And how could anyone get past you? If I'm with you, the odds are better that no one will get past us in the first place!"
"Ginny," Harry said, "Luna's needed for surveillance, Dumbledore for coordination, Hermione does the ritual. You're the only one left to protect them,"
"But…" She was shaking her head, lips pressed together, tears in her eyes.
If this weren't about fighting Russian secret agents, Ron would've been moved to give in.
But as things were? Ginny and Luna stayed with Hermione and Dumbledore while Ron, Harry and Sirius went up a level to join the defenders.
There, Filch's men - a dozen that Ron could see - were setting up firing positions that reminded him far too much of the opening scene of Star Wars.
"I take it that the ground floor has been lost, then," Sirius commented.
Filch glared at him from where he was directing the rest but nodded curtly. "The survivors are falling back to the staircase."
"We won't be able to hold the stairs," Sirius replied. "They can just chuck grenades down at us."
As if to underline his words, they heard an explosion from upstairs.
Filch bared his teeth. "I know. But we can slow them down a little more. Reinforcements are on the way, and every minute counts."
And would be paid for in blood, Ron thought. But at least the staircases were split - the one connecting the first of the basement floors with the ground floor and the upper floors was on the other end from the one leading to the lower basement floors and Hermione's lab. They had more room to set up here.
"The lift shaft is a weakness," Sirius said.
"Mined," Filch snapped back.
"Ah."
Ron couldn't help glancing at the lift in question. That was a radical solution.
"Is the garage secure?" Harry asked. It was a good question, Ron felt. If the additional generators were taken out, Hermione's escape plan would be doomed from the start.
"We've got two vehicles there, covering the entrances," Filch reported. "And the gates are reinforced."
"And the enemy, as far as we can tell, isn't focusing on the garage. Either an oversight, or they do not wish to split their forces," Dumbledore's voice sounded through the radio. "However, that might not remain the case for long. Also, they are quickly overwhelming the remaining security staff on the ground floor. Pull them back, Argus."
"Yes, sir."
As Filch gave the command, Ron looked around. The men were set up well, in his opinion. And the stairs and lift were choke points, both covered from all angles. They were even hastily setting up Claymore mines. Pushing through here wouldn't be quick or easy.
Sirius must have come to the same conclusion. "We'll reinforce the garage," he said, "and serve as reserves."
Filch grunted in return, his eyes focused on the door to the stairs, where three men, one being carried, entered. "Close it!" one of them yelled. "There's no one left alive up top!"
A moment later, massive doors slid shut behind them.
"Medic's set up in the infirmary below. Drop Palmer there and come back!" Filch snapped before glancing at them.
"Let's move!" Sirius told them, striding back to the stairs.
In the garage, things weren't looking quite as good. Two vehicles - the armoured SUVs they had used on the trip to meet their parents - had been driven into the centre of the garage, facing the gates, but the four men inside them were wielding assault rifles and were ready to fire out of the windows.
"Even a technical would be better than this," Sirius muttered. "At least they have set up in a way that won't draw fire to the generators. Let's set up the machine guns. The support pillars will hamper our field of fire, but it's the best way to stop a rush through the gates."
"What if they come through the roof?" Harry asked.
"We'll set up at the entrance to the stairs," Sirius said. "That should keep us safe enough to fall back."
"I've got a drone up in the air," Luna announced through their radios while they were using another armoured car to set up. "They're still focusing on the building, I think."
Tunnel vision? Sticking with the plan no matter what? Or was it another feint? Ron had no idea, but he glanced at the ceiling. Shaped charges would go through it, if they were powerful enough - or if you used enough. And the Russians were always ready to use brute force.
Another explosion, far stronger than a mere grenade, rang out - behind them.
"They've blown the doors on the first basement floor!" Luna told them.
Ron glanced at Harry and Sirius. "Should we…?"
"Not yet," Sirius said. "Dumbledore will tell us if we're needed back there."
"So far my men are holding," they heard Dumbledore say - he was listening to Luna's channel, Ron realised. "Although they've already lost two men in the exchange. The enemy fared worse, however."
"How many men do they have, anyway? Did they sneak in an entire company?" Sirius complained. "Were the RAF and the Royal Navy asleep on the job?"
"I doubt they arrived legally in the country. Probably dropped out of an unsuspicious cargo plane with fake freight papers flying over Scotland," Harry replied.
Ron wouldn't have expected Putin to go so far. On the other hand, after 9/11 and the large-scale hostage incidents in Russia, 'terrorists' could be blamed for a lot. Still, there would be consequences for this, Ron was sure of it.
Not that that would matter much if they couldn't hold out until relieved. The Russians would be aware that reinforcements were on the way, though - that would explain their stubbornness in the face of mounting casualties.
Still, trying to press a charge through a choke point? That made walking towards the German lines in the Somme look like a smart plan. And Putin wasn't dumb. "They'll come through here, too," he said. "Luna, can you see movement near the garage? Or on top of us?"
"Uh… the doors are clear… oh. There are a few people above you. Placing… a bomb!"
Damn.
"Move back!" Sirius yelled. "They're going to blow the ceiling!" He was already dropping into the armoured SUV, closing the roof as if it were a tank's hatch. Harry simply pulled his rifle back inside the car and ducked, but Ron was caught in the open - between the car and the door behind him.
Cursing, he whirled and sprinted towards the door. He had almost reached it when the ceiling exploded, and the shock wave threw him down on to the ground, knocking the breath out of him. He rolled to the side, gasping as concrete fragments dropped down all around him and a cloud of dust engulfed him, barely managing to keep a grip on his rifle.
Hacking and coughing, he scrambled up, holding one arm over his head, and stumbled forward, towards the door. Or where he thought the door was - he couldn't see anything. He stumbled over something on the ground - debris, as he found when he fell on hard, jagged concrete - and once more rolled across the floor. But he had hit the wall, which meant he could use it as a guide as he crawled towards the door.
Shots started to ring out, followed by screams. From above.
"They're firing down. And they're rappelling!" Luna announced. "Ron! Are you OK?"
"I'm alright," he blurted out as he reached the door and slid around it, into the staircase behind. No one had shot at him, or if they had, he hadn't noticed.
The dust was starting to settle, and Ron could make out movement above - in the giant hole left in the ceiling. He raised his rifle, leaned against the corner, and took aim.
His first burst missed, and the man sliding down the line vanished behind a car before Ron could fire again. But he caught the next attacker as he pushed off from the roof, leaving the man dangling limply from the rope.
Sirius was back - Ron recognised the sound of the machine gun - but as he searched for another target, he saw that one of the cars Dumbledore's men had set up had been crushed by a massive part of the ceiling that hadn't broken up. That didn't look like… Movement!
Ron aimed at a figure running through the dissipating dust cloud, towards the second car in the centre of the garage. But if that was a survivor… A burst cut the man down, rendering the point moot without revealing his identity.
"Bloody hell! How many are there?" Sirius cursed over the radio. "New belt! Need a new belt!"
Ron caught another attacker rappelling down, but only winged the man, and then had to duck back around the corner when someone started firing at the door. "They're assembling on the floor!" he yelled.
"I need to reload!" Sirius yelled back. "Finally!"
Once more, the machine gun rang out.
"Gotcha, bastard!"
A moment later, the second SUV on their side vanished in an explosion.
"RPG!" Harry announced.
"Where?"
Ron exposed himself, frantically searching for the shooter. How long did it take to reload an RPG launcher? They'd take out Sirius and Harry next - or Ron himself.
There! A man was rising behind concrete debris, aiming a rocket launcher. Ron fired while moving, emptying his magazine. The recoil sent most bullets into the ceiling, but he managed to control the rifle long enough to hit the gunner. The Russian jerked, stumbling back, and started to fall.
And pulled the trigger, sending the rocket-propelled grenade flying - directly towards the generators in the corner.
Ron's eyes widened, and he threw himself to the ground moments before the grenade exploded. He jumped up at once, ignoring the pain in his side and leg - falling down on concrete debris hurt, even if you were wearing a vest - and reloaded his rifle as he fell back.
"Bloody hell!" he cursed - one generator was wrecked. Worse, Ron could see fire spreading around it - the explosion must have torn up the fuel lines. "We need to get out!" he yelled. "It's on fire!"
"What?" Luna asked. "Oh, no! The generators!"
So much for the portal, Ron thought as he crouched near the door and started to lay down some covering fire. "Pull back! Pull back!"
The door of the armoured car was pushed open, and Harry jumped out, rolling over his shoulder. He came up firing, using the door as cover. Behind him, Sirius followed, dragging the machine gun with him.
Someone started shooting at them, and Ron shifted his fire - then had to reload. But it was enough for Sirius to dash across the gap between the car and the debris in front of the door, and a moment later, he was back to shooting.
The fire was spreading quickly, though - it had already engulfed all the generators and was moving towards the closest cars. Ron could feel the heat from the approaching flames. "Harry!" he yelled.
His friend looked at him, then turned and started to sprint towards him. Bullets struck the ground near his legs.
Ron emptied his magazine in the direction from which the shots had come, but couldn't even see the shooter. He didn't think Sirius saw them, either. But if they made the enemy duck for even a second…
Harry screamed and fell, rolling across the ground, his rifle flying from his hands and sliding across the floor.
"Harry!" Sirius screamed.
"Cover me!" Ron yelled and jumped up, firing the last of his bullets blindly as he rushed towards his friend. Harry was on the ground, with no or minimal cover - and exposed to enemy fire. He was moving, but slowly - and there was blood pooling on the ground.
"Damn!"
Ron let go of his rifle, letting it dangle from the sling, and pulled out a smoke grenade as he jumped over a larger piece of debris. Bullets started to hit the ground and rubble near him, and he threw himself into a combat roll to throw off the enemy's aim. His rifle was jerked around in the process, hitting his knee hard enough for him to yell with pain, and almost got stuck between two bent pieces of rebar. He managed to pull it off, though, and lobbed the smoke grenade behind Harry before dropping to the floor. Trying to ignore the pain in his leg, he crawled towards his friend as thick, black smoke started to fill the area.
Sirius finally got his machine gun reloaded and added suppressive fire - at least Ron hoped he did; he couldn't see anything in the smoke. But he could hear Sirius's gun and he just had to go straight to reach Harry.
Just a few more yards.
Something struck his forehead, hard, and for a terrifying moment, he thought he had been shot dead. But he didn't die, even though blood was running down the side of his face. A glancing blow, then, or a concrete fragment sent flying by a bullet.
He crawled on, another yard, then another… and then his hand didn't meet hard, jagged concrete, but something softer. "Harry!"
"Ron?"
"I've got you!" Ron quickly shifted his position, groaning at the pain in his knee, and wiped some blood from his head before he grabbed Harry under the shoulders. "Let's get out of here!"
The smoke wouldn't last forever, and if the attackers kept firing into the thick of it, they would hit them sooner or later,
"You know the way?" Harry asked, far too weakly. "I seem to have gotten lost a bit."
"Don't joke about that," Ron shot back as he heaved and dragged his friend over a broken square of concrete.
They were about halfway back to the door, and the smoke hadn't grown any thinner yet. Perhaps they'd get lucky, for once.
Then Ron felt the heat and gasped. The smoke hadn't grown thinner because the fire from the generators was about to reach them! "Bloody hell!" he cursed, frantically pulling at Harry. "Hurry! The fire's about to reach us!"
"Fuck!" Harry spat. "Ron…"
Ron cut him off. "Shut up and crawl, damn it!"
The heat was growing worse. And Sirius's machine gun had fallen silent again. Were those flames he could see to his right? Flickering over the floor, trailing the leaking fuel?
"Leave me!" Harry groaned. "Save yourself!"
"Fuck you!" Ron shot back. He screamed with frustration and pain as he stopped crawling and crouched, then pulled Harry on to his shoulder. "Just shut up!"
His knee hurt like hell, and he yelled even more when he rose, but he managed to stand up with Harry over his shoulder. Yes, those were flames reaching for them. He tried to run - but his knee didn't let him. He almost collapsed, then forced himself to go on, limping and stumbling towards Sirius, screaming all the way.
A figure appeared in the smoke. Ron reached for his pistol, almost dropping Harry, before he recognised Sirius.
"I've got you!"
Ron felt himself pulled forward, then pushed from behind, Harry's weight growing lighter, and stumbled on. He was pulled to the side after a few steps, then pushed forward again, then crashed into something - a railing.
"Close the door!" he heard Sirius yell. "The fire's almost in the staircase!"
Ron turned - the smoke was lighter, less dense here - dragging Harry, who had slid from his shoulder but was still clinging to it, along just in time to see the door close behind them.
Then he did drop his friend as he collapsed in a coughing fit. "Sirius!" he managed to blurt out as he spat and coughed, "Get him to Hermione!"
"Harry! Oh my God! Harry!"
Ron blinked. That sounded like Ginny. But she was…
"Drink this! Drink it!"
Oh.
Ron leaned against the wall and slowly started to slide down to the floor. His sister had brought potions. Smart. Should've thought of that.
He tried to snort, which turned into another coughing fit, before someone grabbed his head and he felt a vial on his lips.
"Drink, Ron!"
The potion tasted awful, but his pain vanished at once.
Well, most of it vanished. His knee still hurt. Harry, though… Ron forced himself to stand and check on his friend. Ginny was kneeling next to him, cutting away parts of Harry's trousers to check on his thigh wound. "How is he?"
"I'm fine," Harry whispered. He didn't look fine, of course - he was pale, and Ron didn't think he could stand.
"You're not fine!" Ginny spat. She turned her head to look at Ron and Sirius. "We need to get him down to the laboratory so we can feed him another potion."
"Alright," Sirius agreed at once. "It's not as if the Russians will be able to attack through the fire raging in the garage, so this flank's secure."
"For the moment," Ron said.
"Long enough," the older man replied. "By the time the fire dies down, we'll be dead or safe."
Ron chuckled at that - morbid or not, it was correct.
They grabbed Harry by the arms and pulled him up, ignoring his protests that he could walk if they just gave him a moment.
A minute later, they entered the laboratory, where Hermione was still performing the ritual. Which depended on power she wouldn't have access to, Ron realised. "Bloody hell!" he mumbled. Could he tell her? Would that distract her enough to mess up the ritual anyway? But if he didn't tell her, would that be worse?
"Ron! Are you alright?" Luna asked, interrupting his thoughts. "You're bleeding!"
He swallowed his first response. This wasn't Luna's fault. None of it was. "I'm alright," he said. "Potion fixed it. But Harry…" He glanced over his shoulder.
Ginny was offering a potion to his friend. "Drink!"
"We should save it for emergencies," Harry replied.
"This is an emergency, you idiot!" she hissed.
"Drink it, Harry. We're still under attack," Sirius chimed in.
"Oh, yes," Luna told them. "They're still fighting upstairs."
Ron tried to ignore them. Tell Hermione, or not? So far, they hadn't talked during any of the rituals. But… it couldn't be too bad, or she would've taken more precautions, wouldn't she? He walked up to the ritual circle. At least if this was a mistake, he'd be right at her side. He noticed her eyes tracking him as he approached. "The generators in the garage are gone," he whispered.
She seemed to grow tense for a moment, though she never stopped moving her hands and mumbling syllables in a language he couldn't quite place as she nodded.
He took a step back, hesitated, then took a few more steps back. She didn't seem to be panicking, so it should be alright. It had to be alright.
He couldn't just stay and watch her, though. He turned away, glancing at Harry. His friend was about to be force-fed a potion - a Blood-Replenishing Potion, Ron recognised the colour of the vial - by Ginny. He'd be okay then.
Ron headed towards Dumbledore. The old man was sitting at Hermione's desk, although he was using a laptop of his own. And there was another laptop there - presumably Luna's.
"How are we doing?"
"Adequate, so far - despite their numerical superiority, the enemy hasn't managed to breach our lines of defence."
"Yet," Ron felt compelled to add. The Russians would've broken through in the garage if not for the fire.
"We need but hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive," Dumbledore replied.
"And how long will that be?" Ron asked.
"About half an hour, at most," Dumbledore told him.
That wasn't good news. Ron was about to say so, but he noticed Luna approaching them. "Helicopters?" he asked instead.
"Yes. Not armed helicopters, unfortunately - Her Majesty's Government frowns on private companies using attack helicopters."
"With good reason!" Luna interjected. "If you could take over by force of arms, you wouldn't have to bribe the government any more!"
Dumbledore laughed at that. "Quite, Miss Lovegood. How is the situation up top?"
"Oh. One moment." She took a peek at her own laptop. "Apart from the fire burning in the garage, which has driven away the people trying to enter, unchanged."
"Then I fear they will focus on breaking through the stairs with renewed vigour," the old spymaster told them. "They, too, will be aware that they will soon run out of time."
"Bloody Russians," Ron muttered. "Then we better get back up top to help hold them off." He turned to Ginny. "You keep guard here."
"Like hell I will!" she yelled at him. "I'm coming with you! We trained for this, and I'm not going to hold back whoever gets past you by myself!"
"They have to go through the massive door, first," Ron pointed out.
"They'll just blow it up."
"I'm afraid I have to agree with that assessment," Dumbledore cut in. "They had shaped charges to get through the garage's roof - they will have more of them to get through the doors inside."
"And I can deal out potions!" Ginny told him. "You almost died without me."
Before Ron could refute that, Luna hefted a rifle. "I'm coming too," she said. "At this point, aerial surveillance is not very important any more, and Mr Dumbledore can keep an eye on my screen."
Ron glanced at Hermione, just to check if she suddenly wanted to join as well, but she was still performing the ritual. Stuck doing it, as far as he knew. But to take Ginny and Luna with them...
"Time's running out!" Luna told him.
"She's right. Let's move," Sirius said. "Before we get defeated in detail."
Ron glanced at Harry, but his friend only nodded with gritted teeth. Ron muttered a curse and turned towards the stairs. At the very least, he'd do all he could to stay between Ginny and Luna and the enemy.
Upstairs looked like a scene out of a war movie - on the losing side. Filch and three others were the only ones left fighting, or so it seemed, and they were in or at the doorway, shooting from behind improvised barricades. Half a dozen others were on the floor, unconscious or dead at first glance. Damn.
"We need to push them back!" Sirius yelled. "We're too concentrated here - that's begging for a grenade."
Filch leaned back into cover and snarled. "Tell that to the enemy; they're not cooperating!"
Sirius snorted and crouched down, getting his machine gun ready. "Well, let's see what…"
"Grenade!" one of the guards yelled, shooting wildly. "Got him!" the man yelled, followed by an explosion on the enemy side.
"Ah, shooting them before they can throw," Sirius said. "That we can help with." He leaned around the corner and fired several bursts at the other side.
Ron used the opportunity to speed-crawl past the door, to the other side. He got up and started firing around the corner as well. "Come on, Harry!"
His friend joined him a few seconds later. Luna stayed with Sirius, but, of course, Ginny followed Harry. Damn. She should have stayed on the other side - easier to fall back to the basement from there. And supplying Sirius with enough belts for his machine gun would occupy both her and Luna.
But the enemy's fire grew stronger. Filch yelled: "Prepare for a push!" And Ron no longer had the time to send Ginny back. Instead, he had to duck before moving forward behind a toppled sturdy metal table with some thick planks piled up behind it.
It was a decent, but not perfect, barricade - ahead of Ron, a bullet punched through it. A moment later, one of the remaining guards fell down, yelling and holding his bleeding leg. Ron cursed again and stood, snapping off a few quick shots before ducking down again.
This was getting worse with every second. Sirius had already gone through a belt and was reloading with Luna's help.
"Grenade!" someone yelled, and Ron felt as if his blood froze in his veins. He got up, rifle firing, but the Russian had managed to get into position on the side, and Ron's bullets hit him after he had already thrown the grenade.
He gasped, turning and diving to the floor, knowing it wouldn't be quick enough to save him, but Ginny leapt up next to him, swinging her rifle like a bat - no, like a racket.
And hit the grenade, sending it back towards the enemy position.
The grenade exploded a second later, and Ginny, who had been diving to the floor, but hadn't quite made it in time, yelled as she was thrown to the side.
Then she screamed, holding her leg - her calf was bleeding something fierce. Bullet or grenade fragment, Ron couldn't tell, but there was blood all over her leg.
"Get a potion!" he snapped, but she just kept holding her leg and screaming.
Cursing once more, he crawled towards her. "Keep them suppressed!"
Sirius's machine gun started up again, providing some covering fire when he reached Ginny and started to go through her webbing's pockets and pouches to find a vial. "Stay calm!"
"It bloody hurts!" she yelled back. "And I can't stop the bleeding!"
"Where's the damned potion?"
"Thigh pocket."
Who'd put anything there? But he found the right pocket, and the right potion, handing it to Ginny. "Drink!"
"Put pressure on my leg," she yelled back.
He did so, wincing as her blood covered his hands, but she drank the potion, and he could feel her wound knitting itself closed under his hands. Not completely, though.
Sirius's gun fell silent again - Ron heard the older man yell for more ammunition - and Harry opened up with his rifle. "Get back down," he told Ginny.
"Forget it, I'm fine."
"I can feel the wound," he snapped. "Get it bandaged!"
Before she could reply, loud yelling filled the entire room. Screaming like banshees - or almost. Ron looked at Filch, who was once more firing wildly.
"Here they come!"
More shots rang out, peppering the entire area. Ron saw Filch jerk as several bullets hit him. Ron rolled across the floor - he had to get up and shoot back, but he also needed to get Ginny to safety. If there was any safety to be had.
Another grenade exploded behind him.
"Sirius!" he heard Luna scream. The machine gun fire had stopped, he realised. He gripped his gun. No time. "Crawl back!" he yelled to his sister, then rose, leading with his gun and firing blindly. Something hit his rifle, throwing it to the side and out of his hands before he got his head above the barricades. Then a screaming Russian jumped over the barricade and ploughed into him.
The man's bayonet sliced his left arm open, and Ron was smashed into the ground, the man landing on top of him, still screaming. He tried to pull back, but Ron hit him in the throat with his right hand, then in the face, smashing his nose. As the man reared back, Ron drew the knife from the sheath on his shoulder and started stabbing.
He didn't aim his blows - he just stabbed at the man's throat and head as fast as he could. Until the man's screams changed to a gurgling noise and blood hit Ron's face before the Russian collapsed.
Ron pushed him off, hissing in pain as his left arm felt as if it was on fire, and drew his pistol. Another Russian appeared on top of the barricades, firing wildly, but before he managed to lower his rifle to shoot at Ron, Ron shot him several times, and the man fell back.
Where was Ginny? Ron turned, looking for his sister, and gasped. She was on the ground, fighting a Russian who had gotten behind them with her bare hands. And there was another next to her. Ron shot one-handed, most of his rounds hitting the man's vest, but one hit the man's throat, and he went down, blood gushing from his forehead.
Ginny! Ron got to his knees, aiming - but if he missed, he might hit his sister! He moved forward, trying to keep his head below the shot-up barricades. He had made it halfway to them when the man's head snapped back, and Ginny twisted out of the way - no, despite her position on the ground, she wasn't twisting away - she launched another kick, with her good leg. She hit the man's head again, driving him further back - and up. Ron dropped so he could fire without endangering Ginny and shot the dazed man.
"Ginny!"
But she was crawling away already - towards Harry. Damn! The grenade - both Sirius and Harry were down!
"I need a potion!" Luna yelled, from where she was trying to help Sirius.
Before Ron could help either, something hit him in the back, and he was thrown to the ground.
He had been shot. In the back. Ron managed to roll on the side, but the pain... He screamed, raising his pistol, and more shots hit him, punching into his own vest hard enough to knock the breath out of him. Hard enough to break the plates.
His pistol went flying as he folded over, unable to do anything but yell and hold his stomach. He saw the man shift his position, the muzzle of the rifle swinging towards Ron, and forced himself to move, knowing it would be too late, but he couldn't let...
The man's head jerked back, blood and brain splattering against the wall next to them. Ron glanced over his shoulder and saw Ginny holding Harry's gun, blinking.
And there was Luna, firing at something or someone Ron couldn't see, on the other side of the barricades.
His stomach hurt like hell, but he couldn't see any blood. So the vest had kept the bullets from penetrating. Probably on his back as well - he wasn't dead, yet, anyway. Unlike pretty much the entire security force Filch had had left.
Good enough to fight some more. He dragged himself up into a sitting position and reached for the Kalashnikov a Russian had dropped. Half a magazine left. At least he'd be able to shoot anyone coming over the barricade from here, even if he couldn't stand.
But they weren't coming.
"What are they doing?" he yelled.
"Hiding!" Ginny yelled back.
Damn.
"We need to fall back." He gritted his teeth and crawled towards Luna. "Before they regroup and rush us again."
"What?"
"Fall back and close the doors." That would gain them a little more time. "We need to treat Harry and Sirius." And there were other wounded, weren't there? Damn, moving hurt. And his arm was still bleeding. But he could still move.
He blinked. The stairs were moving too. And… fading.
"Ron!"
"Ron!"
*****
He woke up with a start. Where was he? Where were his friends? What… Ugh. His stomach and back still hurt. As did his arm.
"Ron!"
Ginny!
He looked around, He was on the stairs leading to Hermione's lab. The others… Oh, Harry was there, sitting on the stairs and looking like he had been thrown through a wood chipper, but he was alive and awake. And Sirius, in a similar state, was even aiming his machine gun upstairs.
"They'll get through the door above us soon," Harry said.
He glanced over his shoulder. Two wounded security men were hefting rifles as well. And there was Dumbledore, wearing a suit, handing out more ammunition.
So this was their final line of defence.
And where they would die. Damn.
"Luna?"
"Miss Lovegood is inside the lab, handling overwatch," Dumbledore informed him with a dry smile. "They took out the cameras, but she still has a drone in the air."
"Thank you," Ron replied. He glanced at his sister, who was kneeling next to Harry.
"Miss Weasley wouldn't move," Dumbledore told him.
Of course she wouldn't. Too stubborn for her own good. Ron scoffed. But there was nothing he could do about it.
"How much longer?" he asked instead.
"A few more minutes - they will be careful when placing the charges."
"They can't have many men left."
"They don't," Dumbledore agreed. "But more than we have. Enough to press the attack one more time."
That meant they had a chance. A small chance, but a chance nevertheless. Ron nodded and checked the rifle they had left next to him. Fully loaded. Good.
He was ready for them now. They'd have to go through him, over his dead body, to reach Hermione and Luna.
And he'd make them pay dearly for it.
He waited.
Minutes passed without an attack. Were the Russians trying something sneaky? He glanced up. Coming through the ceiling, perhaps? Attacking the lab would endanger Hermione, but the stairs would be fair game… But did they know that?
"Where are they?" Sirius muttered.
"They'll come. They've spent too many men to get to this point," Harry replied. "Bloody Russians."
But they didn't come. Minutes passed without an attack.
Then Luna appeared on the door to the lab.
"The helicopters have arrived! They're attacking the Russians from above!"
*****
She stared at the circle and bit her lower lip again. Thus far, she had always strived to do her best - to cast every spell perfectly. To do the opposite, to deliberately fail at casting a spell… It went against every fibre of her being.
But she had to learn how to control a ritual that went wrong. And to do that, she had to train with failing rituals. She took a deep breath and recalled the instructions. If you lost control of a ritual, you needed to divert its magic. Exert some minimum of control to channel it into safe, or at least safer, effects. Preferably spells that were easy to cast. Or had harmless effects.
Like light. Although too much light would hurt as well.
She took a deep breath. She was a Gryffindor. It was dangerous, but she could handle it. It was a calculated risk.
She started the ritual. And after the first minute of chanting, she deliberately stopped.
For a moment, she felt light as a feather. Then she felt as if someone had put her in a vice and were squeezing her. She could sense the magic. But to direct it… She flicked her wand even though she knew that wouldn't work.
And she hissed with pain when it failed.
A minute later, she had regained her breath. And, after a few more minutes, her nerve.
This would take time.
*****