The vast parchment-like screen now showed only an aerial view of the forest, from which you could barely make out the camouflaged forms of three armies, split up into two groups each, converging to fight their three-way battle.
The benches of the Quidditch stadium were now rapidly filling up with the more easily bored sort of spectator who only wanted to be there for the final battle and skip out on all the boring points along the way. (If there was anything wrong with Professor Quirrell's battles, it was widely agreed, it was that his spectacles didn't last nearly as long as Quidditch matches, once they actually started. To this Professor Quirrell had replied only, Such is realism, and that had been that.)
Within the huge window - it was all one window now, observing from a great height - the vague collections of tiny camouflaged forms grew closer.
Closer.
Almost touching -
The vast white parchment window showed the first touch of battle between Sunshine and Chaos, a screaming mass of running children with smiley-faces upon their breasts, charging forward with Contego shields held high and others shouting "Somnium!" -
Until one of their number shrieked "Prismatis!" in a terrified voice and the entire charge came to a sudden halt before the sparkling wall of force that had appeared in front of them.
Tracey Davis had walked out from behind the trees.
"That's right," said Tracey, her voice low and grim as she leveled her wand on the barrier. "You should fear me. For I am Tracey Davis, the Darke Lady! That's Darke Lady spelled D-A-R-K-E, with an E!"
(Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was sending an inquiring look at Mr. and Mrs. Davis, both of whom looked like they would have dearly preferred to die on the spot.)
Behind the Prismatic Barrier, there was some kind of hushed argument taking place among the Sunshine Soldiers, one of whom in particular seemed to be getting scolded by several of the others.
Then, a moment later, Tracey flinched.
Susan Bones had come to the front of the Sunshine contingent.
("Goodness," said Augusta Longbottom. "What do you suppose your grand-niece has been learning at Hogwarts?")
("I don't know," Amelia Bones said calmly, "but I shall owl her a Chocolate Frog and instructions to learn more of it.")
The Prismatic Barrier vanished.
The Sunshine Soldiers resumed their charge forward.
Tracey yelled, her voice high with strain, "Inflammare!" and the Sunshine charge came to another sudden halt as a line of fire blazed up between them in the half-dry grass, extending to follow the path of Tracey's wand as she pointed it; an instant later Susan Bones cried "Finite Incantatem!" and the flames dimmed, brightened, dimmed in the contest of their wills, other soldiers raising their wards to aim at Tracey; and that was when Neville Longbottom plunged shrieking out of the sky.
One of the Dragon Warriors, Raymond Arnold, made a hand-sign, pointing forward and oblique left; and there was a sudden hushed hiss of whispers among the Dragon Army contingent as they all quietly reoriented themselves in the direction of the enemy. The Sunnies knew they were there, of course both armies knew; but somehow, in this moment, they had all become instinctively quiet.
The Dragons crept forward further, and then further, the dull camouflaged forms of the Sunnies beginning to appear among the distant trees, and still nobody spoke, nobody bellowed the call to charge.
Draco was now at the forefront of his soldiers, Vincent behind him and Padma only a shade further back; if the three of them could take the shock of Sunshine's best, the rest of Dragon Army might stand a chance.
Then Draco saw one Sunnie staring at him from the distance, in the vanguard of her own army; staring at him with a look of fury -
Across the forest battleground, their eyes met.
Draco had only a fraction of a second to wonder, in the back of his mind, what Hermione Granger was so angry about, before the shout went up from both their armies; and they were all running forward to the charge.
The other Chaotics had appeared now from among the trees, some had dropped out of trees, and the battle was in full force now, everyone firing in every direction at anything that looked like an enemy. Plus a number of Sunnies crying "Luminos!" at Neville Longbottom as the Chaos Hufflepuff twisted and rocketed up through the air on courses that could only be described as, indeed, "chaotic" -
And it happened, the way it happened only one time out of twenty in mock aerial combat, that Neville Longbottom's broomstick glowed bright red beneath his clenched hands.
It should've meant that Longbottom was out of the game.
Then, in the Hogwarts stands, among the watching crowds of students, a scream went up -
Combat realism. It was Professor Quirrell's one master rule. You could get away with anything if it was realistic, and in real life, a soldier didn't just vanish when their broomstick got hit by a curse.
Neville was falling toward the ground and screaming "Chaotic landing!" and the Chaotics were wrenching their attention away from fights to cast the Hover Charm (and run at the same time so they wouldn't be sitting ducks), almost everyone else stopping to gape -
And Neville Longbottom slammed into the leaf-laden forest ground, landing on one knee, one foot, and both hands, as though he were kneeling down to be knighted.
Everything stopped. Even Tracey and Susan paused in their duel.
In the stadium, all crowd noises vanished.
There was a universal silence composed of astonishment, concern, and sheer dumbstruck gaping awe, as everyone waited to see what would happen next.
And then Neville Longbottom slowly rose to his feet, and leveled his wand at the Sunshine Soldiers.
Though nobody on the battlefield heard it, a large segment of the stadium audience had begun chanting, in steadily rising notes each time the word was uttered, "DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM", because you just couldn't see that and not think it required musical accompaniment.
"The crowd is cheering your grandson," said Amelia Bones. The old witch was favoring the screen with a measuring look.
"So they are," said Augusta Longbottom. "Some, if I hear correctly, are cheering, Our blood for Neville! Our souls for Neville!"
"Quite," said Amelia, taking a sip from a teacup which had not been there moments earlier. "It shows the lad has leadership potential."
"These cheers," continued Augusta, her voice taking on an even more stunned quality, "seem to be coming from the Hufflepuff benches."
"It is the House of the loyal, my dear," said Amelia.
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore! What in Merlin's name has been happening in this school?"
Lucius Malfoy was watching the screens with an ironic smile, his fingers tapping at his armrest in no discernible pattern. "I do not know what is more frightening, the thought that he has some hidden plan behind all this, or the thought that he does not."
"Look!" cried the Lord of Greengrass. The dapper young man had risen half out of his chair, pointing his finger at the screen. "There she goes!"
"We'll both take him at once," Daphne whispered. She knew that a few fear-filled minutes of real combat experience, a handful of times each week, might not be enough to match Neville's regular dueling practice with Harry and Cedric Diggory over the same period. "He's too much for one of us, but both of us together - I'll use my Charm, you just try to stun him -"