History of Magic Class
Over the summer, Harry had thought of this class with dread. It wasn't the fact that he hated history (he loved it as a matter of fact), it was more that he hated the presentation of history given at Hogwarts. It was as dry as dead bread on a summer day in the middle of a desert. Harry braced for the worst when Professor Binns concluded the roll call (monotonously of course) and then gave an outline of what they would be covering this term (goblin rebellions of course). After the brief overview (Voldemort could learn something from the man), Harry was getting ready to put his head down for a nap as Binns started on a rebellion of 912 AD when something totally unexpected happened.
"Okay, class," the ghostly professor began, "it was in mid-June 912 AD when the McAndrews caravan was attacked by a goblin horde, clearly a violation of the Kit-Ahm-Eer Ackord treaty of 910. It happened in the Clun forest in Wales, near the Cambrian Mountains. They were on their way to Newtown when they were attacked."
This is when the really weird, even for wizards and witches, event happened. The classroom began to darken to night and then the light came up as though filtered through the trees of a forest. Harry could see men leading horses and mules on an old trading line. They were wearing vintage clothing, not that there was much difference between the cloaks some wore then to the cloaks people were wearing in Diagon Alley.
At first Harry thought he was having some sort of weird vision but he noticed others in the class responding to the changing environment. It was as if they were watching history unfold.
A total of 10 men were charged with taking the convoy of 34 beasts of burden from one city to another. All of the men carried sticks in their hands of varying sizes, but three of the men carried smaller than normal sticks and didn't use them to prod the mules to move over the rocky terrain.
One of the short-stick men spoke to another. "Jonathan, do you sense it?"
"Aye, Robert, I do. Wards have just gone up. Something is going to happen soon, I can feel it in my bones. Alert young Michael while I make to the front and let Mr. Jurgis know of my misgivings."
"I still think bringing muggles along on this trip was a mistake, Jonathan."
"Perhaps, Robert, but we had no choice if we were to get to Newtown in time. The guild was just too short staffed what with the other attacks from the Spanish to the south and the French to the east."
"After I inform Michael of the wards, I will head to the back to ensure we are not caught from behind."
"Good idea, but…"
The rest of his thought was broken as out from behind trees and bushes came a war-cry and then two dozen goblins ran towards the startled men and pack animals.
"Michael! Protect the supplies! Close quarter hexes only! Robert, bludgers first so you don't tire out. Mr. Jurgis! Archers!"
"Aye, Mr. McAndrews! Archers to the ready! Fire!"
Two men broke away from the frightened animals and reached for the bow slung over their shoulders, then for the satchel of arrows by their hips. Within seconds they had fired… to no effect. The arrows bounced off shields.
"Robert! They've got shields covering them! Fire and ice! Fire and ice! Jurgis! Pull your people back and protect the inventory! We'll handle these beings!"
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