Chapter 392: The Battle of Hogwarts
When Aragorn spoke those final words, the King of the Dead and the host behind him showed the same expression of joy and relief, as though a burden carried for ages had finally been laid to rest.
A soft breeze passed. The Army of the Dead scattered like smoke and vanished completely.
Gondor's soldiers and citizens stared at Aragorn with open awe. They all knew it was this Ranger who had brought the dead to the battlefield, saving Gondor and saving their lives.
"Aragorn! Aragorn!"
The name rang out in a single roaring chant. Even Faramir shouted it along with the others.
Only Denethor II, Steward of Gondor, stood at the highest level of the White City, watching Aragorn surrounded by cheering soldiers below. His face was dark, twisted with resentment, and underneath it all lay a hollow, defeated weariness.
While war raged in Gondor, Rohan was locked in battle against another Mordor army.
The moment Mordor's forces crossed into Rohan's borders, King Théoden rode out with the Riders to meet them, and he immediately sent his son Théodred to Hogwarts through the Floo Network to beg for aid.
Rohan's overall strength was even weaker than Gondor's, and this invasion was the largest Mordor host Rohan had ever faced. A Ringwraith commanded it, and a pack of demon-drakes marched with the army.
Against a force like that, Rohan had no confidence at all. They could only ask for help.
Rohan's western border touched Isengard. If Rohan fell, Mordor's armies could drive straight through and threaten Isengard itself. Kael naturally would not sit back and watch, so when Prince Théodred arrived to plead for assistance, Kael agreed.
And this time, he could not respond the way he had with Gondor, sending only a handful.
Gondor had Aragorn, and Aragorn could summon the Army of the Dead to break the siege. Rohan had no such trump card. If Hogwarts did not intervene, Rohan might truly be wiped from the map.
Even so, Kael did not send Hogwarts' own main forces. Instead, he ordered ten thousand Black Númenórean warriors who lived at the Gap of Rohan to march to Théoden's aid.
At the same time, he dispatched a hundred dragon-tamer wizards from the dragon grounds near Isengard, riding ten fire-breathing dragons as reinforcement.
These dragon-tamers dealt with deadly fire dragons every day. Their strength was no weaker than an Auror's.
Those ten dragons were among the rare few ever successfully tamed. Unlike the wild, ill-tempered fire dragons that could not be tamed and would eventually end up butchered for potion ingredients, these tamed beasts had become partners to the dragon-tamers, helping guard the dragon grounds.
At times, Gringotts even rented them to defend the security of its underground vaults.
The relief force was commanded by Brog, formerly the Black Númenóreans' chieftain and now Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Outside Edoras, the combined army of Rohan and the Black Númenóreans smashed into Mordor's host in a brutal clash.
Brog himself went straight for the Ringwraith, battling it as it rode a fell beast.
As Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for many years, Brog's mastery of Dark Arts and the defence against them had long since reached a terrifying level. He was one of the strongest wizards under Kael's command, and against the Ringwraith, he did not give an inch.
Mordor's numbers were several times greater than the combined forces of Rohan and the Black Númenóreans, but once the hundred dragon-tamers and ten dragons joined the fight, the situation flipped.
Aside from assisting Professor Brog against the Ringwraith, the dragon-tamers focused on eliminating the creatures ordinary soldiers simply could not handle: the demon-drakes, fell beasts, and Trolls.
But even as the battle for Rohan blazed, war came for Hogwarts as well.
Hundreds of thousands of Orcs and Barrow-wights, commanded by the Witch-king of Angmar, marched south from the ruins of Angmar beyond the Misty Mountains. Under clouds so thick they blotted out the sky, they swept toward Hogwarts.
The Ministry of Magic entered a state of emergency. Every Auror in the Auror Office mobilised, assembling at the borders of Hogwarts territory.
Hogsmeade and Bree went into martial lockdown, preparing to defend against invasion
Only inside Hogwarts Castle did life seem untouched. Students continued studying and living as if the world beyond the walls did not exist.
Then a deafening dragon roar shook the ground from deep beneath the castle.
The enormous golden dragon Smaug woke from his long sleep. As students and professors cried out in shock, he unfurled his wings, burst from the castle, and soared north.
Hogwarts' northern border ran along the North Downs, where the old capital of Arthedain, Fornost, had once stood.
The Aurors had gathered there, ready to meet Angmar's army at the boundary and keep the war locked outside the territory, so the land within remained safe.
"They're here!" an Auror on a broom shouted as he flew back from the distance.
"Prepare for battle!" the Head of the Auror Office declared, his voice amplified by Sonorus.
At once, every Auror's expression hardened. They raised their wands and stared into the northern sky, where clouds as dark as night rolled steadily south.
When those clouds reached the sky above them, the hills in the distance came alive with movement.
An Orc army appeared, packed so densely it seemed endless.
There were far more Orcs than the armies invading Gondor and Rohan. Nearly five hundred thousand, and among them were cave-trolls, mountain-trolls, and snow-trolls. Massive, brutally strong, more than ten thousand of them.
It made people wonder if the Witch-king had scraped every Troll out of the Misty Mountains to build an army this large.
Orcs were not a serious threat to Aurors.
But Trolls had strong resistance to magic and overwhelming physical power. They could lift boulders weighing several tons and smash men apart, and their great clubs meant a single blow could be fatal. Ordinary offensive spells did not do much to them either.
Seeing so many Trolls, the Aurors grew even more watchful, even more grim.
And behind the Orcs and Trolls came the Barrow-wights, drifting forward beneath a blanket of mist.
Barrow-wights were even more dangerous than Trolls. Their bodies were as hard as steel, and they moved with terrifying speed. A normal person would not even have time to react before being torn apart.
Worse still, a scratch from their claws or a wound from their weapons carried a curse. If it was not treated quickly, the victim would transform into a Barrow-wights and become the Witch-king's puppet.
The Aurors Apparated into position along the boundary, forming a long line with several hundred yards between each wizard.
As one, they raised their wands and cast together. Beams of white light shot out, spreading and linking into a widening curtain of brilliance.
At last, a barrier formed along the border: a wall of light that rose into the sky and stretched for miles, dividing north from south.
Even the black clouds overhead were cut cleanly in two by the shining boundary.
The Orcs did not take the barrier seriously. They howled and charged down the hills, weapons raised, surging toward the Aurors.
The Aurors stood with wands lifted, utterly still, watching them come.
The Orcs were already imagining the slaughter, baring jagged teeth in cruel smiles.
Then they crossed the barrier.
The instant an Orc passed through the wall of light, its body turned to ash and scattered away.
The Orcs behind them saw it and faltered in terror, trying to stop.
But the ones behind kept charging, shoving the front ranks forward, and Orc after Orc was forced into the barrier, only to vanish into ash in a heartbeat.