Deepest Darkness by MithrilQuill

Birth of a Hero

Chapter 27 Birth of a Hero

Cambridge Resists, Ministry Suspects Wizards Helping Muggles

After Completely Wiping out London, Oxford and Manchester no one expected He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters to find any resistance in any Muggle City, but Cambridge is still alive after numerous attacks on the city. The Muggles have been rebuilding their city and the streets of Cambridge are alight with torches, lamps and some even with the eklecticity that was thought to have been destroyed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.


“They must have some sort of help from Wizards,” Minister Scrimgeour says, “The Ministry Aurors have been in and out almost everyday for the past few months and strong evidence suggests the presence of Wizards (most probably Muggle-borns) in the city. We have been Obliviating the surviving Muggles in accordance wit-”


Minerva slammed the paper down on the desk and decided it would be a complete waste of her time to read the latest of the Daily Prophet’s nonsense.


“They’re under siege just like us, Alastor, but they’ve got something we haven’t.”


“Don’t go down that road again Minerva, it’s not doing us any good.”


“I was talking about hope, Alastor,” Minerva pursed her lips and turned to look out the window, “We’re holding up well here, especially after that warning Remus got, but we need a little more hope.”


“Do you think it’s because they don’t know it’s Dark Magic?” the ex-Auror was looking fifty years younger now that the stress of being paralyzed in the face of the enemy was gone. Minerva smiled sadly at the thought of all the changes war had brought upon them.


Red and Purple flashes lit the dark sky down below as the youngest of Hogwarts’ soldiers patrolled the periphery of the besieged castle. “Perhaps it is, Alastor, perhaps it is. After all they do have a Muggle saying that ignorance is bliss.”


“I wonder what our Hermione thinks of that one.”


***


Hannah gripped Malaika’s lower arm tightly as she watched the last of the Ministry Officials disappear. If they had hung around for a few seconds she might have thrown all her secrecy to the wind and approached them.


“You’d think they could at least help a little,” Malaika’s voice brought Hannah out of her thoughts and she released her hold on the girl’s arm, “Instead of just bloody disappearing like that.”


“Oh no,” Hannah said thoughtfully, “I don’t really blame them for that. If Muggles are being attacked this often and this hard I don’t have any doubts that the Wizarding World is being hit even harder. It’s bad for them too and they can’t fight back much better than we can. Not really. What I don’t understand is why they won’t bloody leave us alone and stop Obliviating people.”


“Obliviating?” it took Hannah a few seconds to realize the girl had no idea what that meant because she was still rolling the word “us” around her tongue. It felt nice to be able to say that again like she used to when they were all Hufflepuffs talking about the next Quidditch Game or the House Points.


“Oh, right,” she began to explain, “Wiping people’s memory so they don’t remember what they’ve seen. It’s part of the secrecy thing. Muggles aren’t supposed to know the Wizarding World exists, so they wipe Magic from their memories.”


“Hmmmm,” Malaika nodded as she packed up her first aid kit and gave the pale young patient a smile, “It makes sense, probably been around since the witch hunts and all.”


“Yes, but, Malaika, they need to understand what they’re up against!”


Malaika’s response was cut off by a sudden outburst of loud screaming that accompanied a small far-off bang. Both girls immediately began to run towards the noise and they heard some of the doctors giving orders for who was to stay and who was to go to the battle scene.


Hannah was out of breath by the time they got there and both girls stopped to rest behind a half-crumpled wall. Malaika seemed to be assessing the situation more than resting. She gave Hannah a whispered order to take the left side while she took the right. Hannah nodded and they split up walking slowly, flames licking the edges of their cloaks almost impatiently.


Hannah had a foreboding knot in her heart as she ushered people away from the scene and gave them small smiles and nods. She wondered if Mahmoud was here yet or still running over from his work at the antique shop. A genuine smile lit her face as she looked down at the golden ring in her finger.


“We’ll be alright won’t we?” a small boy who couldn’t be older than twelve asked her as she led him away.


“Of course we will,” she said still moving, “Look there’s an alleyway they didn’t block up over there, we’ll go through there and then run as fast you can to the hospital do you know where it is?”


“Yeah,” the boy replied, “Can I help people too? Show them the way and all.”



”Of course you can!” she said stopping at the edge of the alleyway, “Here, take this and be careful not to come any closer to the battle than this alright? You won’t be any use to anyone if you get yourself hurt, will you?”


The boy grinned and took the lamp from her hand and Hannah slipped back towards the noise. It was much later, as her energy and sanity were beginning to fade and the scene was, thankfully, almost clear of Muggles that she spotted her friends all standing close to the remaining group of Death Eaters.


Her friends were closing in on them, cloaks shimmering in the Dark, and Hannah walked swiftly to join them. There were only five of them left and she was sure they could be frightened into leaving. Coming up closer she barely had enough time to realize what was going on before disaster struck.


***

The girl’s beautiful eyes were opened wide as she stood there, cornered. All of the Death Eaters had now gone except for one that was laughing maniacally and cooing at the child while stepping closer and trapping the child closer and closer to the wall.


The injured Muggle was pulling violently at Malaika’s and Emmett’s hold, trying to get to his daughter. Jeremiah got there first.


He came running awkwardly but quickly from a distance and Hannah stopped dead in her tracks as the Muggles continued to flee all around her. She was too far to get there in time, but close enough to see.


Jeremiah picked the girl up quickly, shielding her from the Death Eater with his body. He was close enough to the black clad figure to deal a blow with his lamp. It was then that Hannah realized that his leg was broken. He had only one choice before him.


“Help me up you bloody git!” Mahmoud was yelling at Emmett and trying to scramble to his feet.


“Don’t worry, Mahmoud, he’ll take care of it, I’m sure.”


“No he won’t, help me up!” Mahmoud was finally pulled up off the ground, his shoulder gushing blood, and began to run towards the bigger boy.


The Death Eater let out a loud laugh and raised his wand before him. They all knew what that laugh meant, and Jeremiah’s lamp rose slowly before him. Suddenly, he dropped it violently to the ground and adjusted his hold on the girl. He threw her to the approaching Mahmoud with all his remaining energy.


Emmett let out a long, low cry of pain that echoed throughout the city.

***

It was dark beyond the outskirts of the burning city, but five lamps were lit on a small hilltop that overlooked all of Cambridge. A large tree swayed in the night air and beneath it were eight silent figures. Three men, two wearing cloaks that looked grey and tattered and one wearing the uniform of a Firefighter were digging furiously.


One woman, a small child tucked into her lap and a nurse’s hat lying beside her on the grass was crying silently. A young blond girl was holding another woman tightly as she cried, not-so-silently, over the body of her son, a Bible clutched tightly to her chest.


Finally, the digging was finished and the three men moved towards the body.


“Wait,” the Firefighter said, “We haven’t washed him yet.”


“Wash him of what?” a deep voice asked gently, “Martyrs should be buried as they died, and face their Lord the way they are. Heroes.”


He motioned the other two men to wait and stood beside the body and began to sing in his deep, outlandish voice and then he prayed. Bowing and placing his head to the ground, and he prayed, though the others never understood or knew it, for more Jeremiahs.


Then they lifted the body into the grave. The blond girl turned off the broken lamp and they lowered it in after him. The night sky was alive with sobbing as the mother of the hero stood over his grave and sang and sobbed.


At length they all stood and walked back to the city; the last word that was spoken on that hill was “He’s in a better place.”


And for years to come many would visit that hill and stand silently. Before they left they would read the inscription on the small stone that stood at the hilltop.

Jeremiah
A Soldier at heart, and a thousand years of military training couldn’t beat it out of him.

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