Chapter 66 It Begins.

Admittedly, the rings worn by every member of the Legion were not designed to transmit messages across an entire country, but as Harry had hoped, there were more than enough Legionnaires within range to receive his call to arms.

Alice Tolipan was lounging in her backyard on a hammock with a book when she felt the ring grow warm. The message took her only a moment to decipher. She felt a flash of fear when she read it and not for the first time in her life hesitated. This was in many ways the biggest decision in her life - second to the decision to actually attend Hogwarts. Her parents had supported her choice, but sometimes, she wondered if they regretted it. She had no regrets, but now. She stood, "Mom! Dad!" she yelled, "I have to go! I'll be back as soon as I can!"

"Where are you going Alice?" her mother shouted back.

For the first time, she hesitated, wondering if she should lie, or tell the truth. Telling the truth, meant there was no way they would let her go, especially if it was to fight a war. "I... I just have to go."

She was already on her feet and running through the house when her father blocked her way, out the front door, "Alice! You are not going anywhere unless you answer the question." She looked at her father and didn't need to look behind her to know that her mother was blocking her way out of the sitting room.

"I... just..." she shook her head, "Please, I have to go!"

"You can go, just as soon as you tell us where," said her mother reasonably. It takes nerves of steel to be a parent. But it takes nerves of another kind to be a parent of a muggle-born witch, who disappears to a school you can never visit, can never even see. It takes a whole other set of nerves to accept that your child will spend their life, literally, in another world, and in many ways become the black sheep of the family.

Alice of course had not told her parents anything at all about the Legion, or about Voldemort, his Death Eaters, and the chaos that they had caused in the past, and had begun to cause once again. "To... help some friends," she said finally. "Mom, Dad, please. Let me go!"

"Who are these friends?" challenged her father.

"From... school," she said, "Look I don't have time..." she let her wand snap into her hand from its wrist holster, something every Legionnaire had. Her parents had been grateful to learn that she was a witch, and the explanations for so many strange occurrences. But now she had her wand in her hand, and her parents, who had watched their daughter, grow and mature by leaps and bounds, found themselves wondering, how far would she go to get out? More importantly, how far would her parents push? "Please move," she begged.

Parents can be worse than the devil's own when it comes to things that they have no real way of understanding, or even beginning to comprehend. their refusal left her with no choice, whatsoever, "I just... I love you both, you know that? Right?" Her parents stared at her, both of them blocking the front door.

"Of course, we know, but what is..."

She hugged them both briefly, "Then please, don't think less of me for disobeying you. I'm doing what is right, instead of what is easy." She kissed her mother on the cheek and took three steps back. She twisted the ring on her left pinkie in a full circle, and vanished, leaving her parents staring in shock at the vacant space where their daughter had been standing just moments before.

Cho Chang read the message and rose to her feet, " I'll be back when I'm back!" With that shout to her family, she ran out of the house and ducked into an alley across the street from her home. A twist of the ring and she was gone in a swirl of light, color, and rushing wind.

Lavender Brown and Leanne Kincaid were enjoying an ice cream at Florean Fortescue's. They received the message at almost the same moment. One glance at each other and they vanished in their seats, leaving behind a single Galleon to cover their bill of 19 Sickles and 15 Knuts.

The Patil twins were at opposite ends of their home. As twins, they shared a connection, nothing as strong as that of the "Twinned Terrors of Hogwarts," but strong enough that they always knew where the other was. Their father and mother were deep in discussion when both their daughters burst in. Her father took a moment to study them: Modern clothing, wands in hand. "Father, mother." Padma said, "The... Light, calls for us to stand and fight."

"Then it is time," said her father holding out his hand. Padma took her father's hand, while Parvati took her mother's. in a flash of light, the entire family was traveling by Portkey.

Susan Bones shouted for her mother, and all she had to say was "Harry's in trouble!" Holding on to her daughter's arm the portkey activated. The former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement accompanied her daughter into battle.

As the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Pius Thicknesse was fully aware of the developing crisis in Grimmauld Place. The first explosions had triggered the standard response: a team was sent to investigate. That had been almost twenty minutes ago, and the team had not reported. That had immediately kicked things up a notch: A twelve-strong team of Aurors, led by Kingsly Shacklebolt were preparing to depart when Aurors Tonks and Moody burst in with a simple message: "Death Eater assault on Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Harry Potter is in the thick of it. You all know what that means."

Shacklebolt nodded grimly, "Then the first team is dead. And we've got a fight on our hands."

"Indeed we do," growled Moody, "Let's try to avoid sharing their fate." Fourteen Aurors apparated from Auror Command and two more teams of twelve would deploy in the coming minutes to the first major engagement of the Second Wizarding War.

In the back garden of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Harry leaned against a wall. He could hear the battle and could tell that it was not going well. He stayed and waited, because one more wand, even his wand, magic, and skill would do little more than dent the tide of numbers being brought to bear against them. Death Eaters were close to a hundred in number now and Bellatrix Lestrange was leading them - or at least it looked like Bellatrix - there were at least four of them running around out there.

Lee Jorden, Luca Caruso, Nigel Wolpert, and Terry Boot were amongst the first to arrive. They were dressed ready for battle. No robes. Jeans, T-shirts. They could hear the orchestra of chaos. Two of them took a step forward, and then a step back. Harry could see the nervous fear upon their faces. They had not even joined the battle yet. He realized that there was a good chance they were going to be slaughtered: None of them had any kind of armor beyond whatever shields they could muster. He shook his head: It was an oversight he was going to have to fix, quickly.

Harry said nothing, continued to watch, and wait. He did not wait in vain. Within minutes of his message going out, the ranks of the Legion swelled. Four, then another six, then fifteen more arrived via portkey.

He continued to wait and watch. Within minutes, he had a force of some fifty, and he was surprised to find not only Legionnaires but adults as well. It was the adults he was more concerned about: At least his Legionnaires were trained. The adults could be lambs to the slaughter.

After five minutes, he was pleased to find that almost seventy people were gathered there, waiting for something. For him no doubt. He continued to watch, and wait. He took a deep breath and pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against. No running from it now, "Legionnaires, and friends," he began, demanding their attention over the metallic clang and sound of shattering glass. It was clear to Harry, most of them were scared at best, terrified at worst.

"Voldemort's," there were a few pathetic shudders at the name but at least nobody cried out in fear. None of his Legionnaires had even blinked, "Death Eaters are out there, in the street… at least a hundred of the bastards. They have taken lives, they destroy homes, and they crush families under their boots. No more! You do not flinch at the name Voldemort! Then do not flinch before his Death Eaters!"

He was improvising, making it up as he went along, and it seemed to be working, "Today, we will match them! Blow for blow! Spell for a spell! This is the day, we fight with our lives! We stand and we fight! And we send them a message! That this is our country! That they simply cannot take what they want! That we fight for a better life beyond this battle! Beyond this war! We stand for the Light! Hell! We ARE the Light!

Seventy voices roared their approval, and it gave the combatants a moment's pause. It brought hope to the Legion's few defenders, and a moment questioning doubt to the Death Eaters. He held his wand overhead, "They have already slain countless muggles out there. They were innocent men, women, and children. I say no more! I say no more die this day!" Muttering spread through the ranks at that, "We! Are! Legion! Forever against the Darkness!" he shouted.

They roared back at him, "Forever against the Darkness!" and he turned, slowly, deliberately, and began to walk. He flexed his left hand, almost experimentally and a half shield shimmered into existence. "Right then," he said, more to himself than anyone else: "Charge!" Through the ruined hulk of the Black ancestral home. they emerged from the kitchen and simply spilled out onto the battlefield.

An explosive roar sprang from the depths of Harry, and it made those entering battle alongside him wonder: From what private hell had he summoned that particular roar of anger, hurt, and betrayal. It was the clap of thunder that heralds a hurricane of destruction and death, rushing forward, charging right down the throat of the entrenched Death Eaters, who had taken cover behind whatever they could find. There was no controlling them. Spells rent the air, magic sizzled as it flew back and forth between the combatants. a hundred duels seemed to erupt around him, even as Harry flew and slew through their ranks.

At his side and flanking him, the Legion Core fought with him as they had trained with him, seven individuals in perfect synchronicity, covered each other with shields, without hesitation, using curses well beyond their years - curses that they should not even know. It looked almost as if the seven teens had choreographed every step, every move they would make beforehand. Dozens fell on both sides, and the Legion fought on, punching straight through the center of the Death Eater line, killing anyone in black robes with a silver mask.

By good fortune and luck more than anything else, The Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry's Wizards appeared, on the far left, opening up a second front, fully engulfing and overrunning the flank completely. Noting the new arrivals, Harry shifted his momentum, turning to the right.

Where Harry went, the Legion followed, it became a close-quarters battle, and it turned bloodier still as several Death Eaters drew short blades and knives. Not that it mattered, or even slowed them as months of training and drills took over, and more than one Death Eater was surprised to find themselves rapidly disarmed before being gunned down where they stood. The not-so-fortunate Death Eaters were not so much disarmed, as dismembered and left to bleed to death.

The Death Eaters were routed, and even Bellatrix Lestrange's near-complete insanity did not hide the fact that this battle was lost as she lead the few surviving to the end of the road, blocked by the carnage of the explosion they had caused to seal the street from muggle interference - not that it mattered as they were beyond the wards now and could apparate or portkey to safety.

The mere sight of the black-haired witch, however, was more than Neville could bear to stand. He had prayed to whatever Gods that existed for a chance to face the thing that had taken his family, any hope of normal life, and shut it up in St. Mungo's Closed Ward forever. Somebody up above had listened, and he was not going to squander the opportunity, "Bellatrix Lestrange is mine!" he roared. A bloodlust overtook him as he cast a chain of stunners, blasting curses, bombardment hexes, and cutting curses. It was enough to force Bellatrix to take cover and long enough for the Legion Core to cast anti-apparition and anti portkey wards, sealing any avenue of escape.

It left Neville and Bellatrix standing in the ruined street. The air fairly crackled with electricity as spells flew back and forth between the few Death Eaters and Legionnaire's still engaged in the brutal swirling scrum of combat. He only prayed it was the real Bellatrix Lestrange this time and not a damned copy. But then, there was an easy way to find out, "Bellie?" sing-songed Neville, who wore a dark smile on his face.

That was all it took to get under the skin of the Death Eater in charge as she screamed in fury, "Don't call me that! Never call me that! Never ever call me that!" Accompanying each fragment of deranged babbling was a killing curse. Neville easily dodged, ducked, and used a broken car door to deflect the third. Everyone watching instinctively understood that this duel was personal.

"Legion! Secure the area!" Harry taped out a message on his ring, and it went out to those gathered. It simply read: "No prisoners." The carnage they had wrought left few standing, except for a single pocket of fierce resistance that seemed to be holding off both the Aurors and Order with ease. "Prank Masters, find out what's going on over there," he ordered and turned his attention back to the fight. This was not his fight and no matter the outcome, this was going to be one for the record books.

It kicked off with a spectacular ferocity from Bellatrix Lestrange who lead with the Death Eater's classic killing curse. Neville ducked low and rolled to the left and forwards, closing the distance between them as she cut loose with yet another bolt of sickly green death.

Rolling aside again, Neville came up, wand blazing. Harry could only watch, impressed with not just the speed, but also the accuracy of his friend's casting: He had bracketed her perfectly, forcing her to raise a shield to defend herself. Neville took the opportunity, reaching to his belt and pulling out a number of small wooden objects that he hurled at her feet.

Harry frowned and blinked in surprise as the wood shimmered and came to life. Neville suddenly had a half dozen wolves charging towards Bellatrix. He took his eyes off the fight for only a moment, to read the message from one of the twins. "Half a dozen Bellatrix Lestranges surrounded but in heavy cover."

"Prosecute with extreme prejudice." Was Harry's reply.

The wolves were busy snapping, snarling, and lunging at Bella, making it impossible for Neville to target the demented bitch, but she was too busy dodging to take the offensive even though four of the wolves had already been slain. Neville's response was to adopt a shotgun-like approach - literally. He levitated chunks of stone and rubble and shattered them into fist-sized lumps and banished them.

Slaying the last of the wolves, she turned right in the path of Neville's stone rain. She was battered backward, stumbled, and fell. A snarling Neville closed for the kill.

Blood sprayed, splattering the ruined pavement and Neville fell back on the defensive, his left arm bleeding heavily. Bella was quick to capitalize, taking Neville in the chest with a banishing charm, that sent him skidding backward. He rolled aside as a pair of cutting curses gouged through the asphalt and rose back to his feet with some difficulty.

His bloodlust was absolute. Everything was red-tinged to Neville. He felt no pain. only anger and hatred, not just for what Bellatrix Lestrange had done to his mother, to his father but at himself for his inability to kill the bitch that had scarred his life. He hated her not so much for what she had done, but more for what she had taken from him: The possibility of a normal, happy life where his parents knew him by name, as a person. Where his grandmother would be the "creepy old lady" who visited or they visited once in a while.

The gaze of the truly deranged locked with that of the truly enraged and in that moment, a measure of understanding passed between the two combatants: Only one of them was going to walk away from this alive.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Neville blinked first, "Sectumsempra!" screamed Bellatrix. He felt the crackle of the spell as it shaved off some of his hair but Neville didn't notice. He was done fighting fair: This was a duel to the death.

"Thys-utas vilvimia eaphrt!" was Neville's retort. The crowd blinked, and Bella herself hesitated as Neville pronounced the words with ease. The gasp of indrawn breath was audible as Neville seemingly conjured ice from thin air. It was long, at least several feet in length, smoking with intense cold. They looked like roughly hewn spears. The projectiles streaked towards their target.

To her credit, Bella countered with a wall of flame that devoured the ice, creating a wall of steam and vapor. However, it failed to stop all of the projectiles, as a pair of icy projectiles emerged unscathed from the flames. A golden shield descended over Lestrange and the icy projectiles struck the shield with a deep gong-like sound.

Neville slumped to one knee, the fight, his injuries, and the raw magic required to cast the Ice Lance having drained him. She cackled, maintaining her shield as she advanced forward several paces and let the cloud of steam dissipate. She took one look at Neville on one knee, with his wand still raised. From behind the safety of her shield, she started to mock him, "You fight well Longbottom! Better than your parents ever did! For that, I will grant you a quick, though agonizing dea-"

The demented witch fired a stunner, which Neville easily shielded, "Your father fought, as did your mother. Where your father died as a man, your mother whined, begged, and pleaded." She fired a piercing hex. It punched through Neville's shield, but the young man was quick enough to roll aside. It tore open the muscle on his calf, but he made no sound, merely grit his teeth as he stared up at Bellatrix, hate making his eyes glow red. "Did anyone ever tell you what Barty Crouch Junior and Lucius Malfoy did to your mother, while your father was forced to watch before I tortured them into insanity?"

Only recently had Harry made use of a Goblin spell that had a devastating impact upon any magical shield. The spell fed off its casters magic, to create a feedback loop that would incapacitate - at least momentarily, if not stun and quite possibly kill if sufficient magic was channeled into a shield. Neville added the word of amplification and cast, "Prie-ghaz Penitenziagite!"

Given that they were barely six feet apart, it was impossible for Neville to miss. Uncertain what exactly had just been cast in her direction, the witch did the most common sense thing, which was also completely the wrong thing to have done: She reinforced her shield.

Neville simply smiled as the spell struck the shield and expanded outwards, wrapping itself around the lower portion of the shield, seemingly being absorbed in the ground, which was partly true as it was the path of least resistance, to the source of magic powering the shield. Bellatrix Lestrange screamed in pain as the feedback loop sent raw magic to the very core of her being. Blue-white lightning danced up and down her body as the feedback loop lived up to its name and blasted her completely off her feet, her wand flying from her hand.

Having blasted apart much of the street and surrounding houses to ensure that they had a measure of privacy during their "battle," that very carnage they had caused would prove to be her undoing as she came to a bone shattered halt, back first against the ruined wall of number 14, Grimmauld Place, with the concrete rebar that helped keep the building upright, perforating her through the chest and stomach.

More than one of the gathered audience felt more than a little nauseated as they watched Bellatrix come to a rather pointed end. But it was far from over at least for Neville, as he dragged himself to his feet, swaying drunkenly as he stumbled forward, struggling to put one foot in front of the other as he closed the distance. His hands were shaking, but his grip on his wand was a white-knuckled death grip "Accio wand!" It was the first spell that he had actually said aloud.

"You used this wand," Nevile held it up in front of her eyes, "To torture my parents into insanity. Fitting, don't you think, that I use it to end your miserable life?" Bellatrix gasped, coughing up a lungful of brackish black blood. The hate was clearly visible in her eyes. If she had been able to gather some breath, she would have used it to curse the wizard standing before her.

"Dguntec!" The spell took several moments to gather and build before exploding from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand. He didn't miss it. The arrow of fire punching straight through the neck of the already six times impaled witch. Neville watched as the flesh charred and crumbled, until finally, her head rolled free, across the ground. An even, and satisfyingly magical seven.

He staggered back a step and simply stared at the ruined corpse of his enemy as the flames spread and began to consume the corpse. He whispered, more to himself than for the benefit of those who had watched Neville Longbottom battle, defeat, and execute Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the most feared of all Death Eaters, "Mother, father, you are, avenged."

He turned his attention to the gathered crowd and the Legion, but his strength failed him as he slipped down to his knees. He pocketed the wand of the woman whose actions had shaped so much of his life and holstered his own. He smiled weakly, "Right then, who's next?"

Ginny stepped forward, put an arm around his shoulders, and helped him back to his feet, "No more today. I think you've done enough, and my boyfriend needs to rest." She shot Harry a glance and he nodded in agreement.

Picking up a stone, he converted it into a Portkey and tossed it to Ginny. She caught it with ease. They vanished in a swirl of colored light and wind as Harry turned his attention to a small matter. He was unsurprised to see the twins walking towards him with pensive expressions, "What?" he asked.

"We'll tell you later," said Fred.

"But for now," said George soberly, "We have wounded that need attention."

It was unspoken, but their fallen needed to be laid to rest, and there was the matter of a Horcrux that Kreacher was hiding.

The war had truly begun.