A/N: Well, this is my first fanfic. It may have some errors so yeah, it's best to give me a feedback about it. I do hope for the best for this to turn out to be great. Some are canon, and mostly, the Malfoys out of their manor part is so out of place and Hermione's somehow OOC there. Only a bit though. XD Gaaaaah~ there are so many flung out ideas from the canon in DH. Anyways, this is FANFICTION. So, overall, this fic is DH compatible. Lastly, The THG part's really only up to THG. I don't really know if it it'll be compatible to Catching Fire. Well, good luck, the boy who lived, the girl on fire. May the odds be ever in your favor, always.
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! ALL OF THE CHARACTERS BELONG TO J.K. ROWLING AND SUZANNE COLLINS. I SWEAR. I OWN NOTHING BUT THE PLOT OF THIS FANFIC. I do not make profit and business out of this. I just made this just for entertainment purposes. Boredom can kill, you know.
The night was cool and dark. No clouds were up on the skies. The moon's beam was the only light enough to see the Forest of Dean. The trees swayed smoothly from the cool breeze as it casts it shadow proudly upon the luminous moonlight. The creatures of the night begin their hunt for their prey. So do the Death Eaters. They begin to hunt down for Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and his company. They've tracked down his every move and did anyway that they can to catch him but still, they've failed. So they strive and stand up to find the chosen one once again, hoping not to fail their dark lord, Voldemort. He is a half-blood wizard, considered to be the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time, formerly known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. Everybody from the wizarding world fears him for his talent in the dark arts is perfect. Ruthless, abhorrent and execrable was he to the society.
As the hunt goes on in the forest, there lies a small campsite for the Golden Trio of the Gryffindor house; Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. These three, valiant, chivalrous, juvenescent teenagers' friendship is quite sturdy. 6 years have passed since they have met in the Hogwarts Express' compartment. They have fought a large basilisk from the chamber of secrets, met the Prisoner of Azkaban, saw the Triwizard Tournament, fought in the Ministry to defeat the Dark Lord in flesh and came in face to face with the half-blood prince. Those years of friendship, love and bravery have ended up to this; fighting for their own freedom from the Dark Lord.
"Hermione, how long will those charms last?" asked Ron as he brushed his ginger colored hair away from his freckle sprayed face.
"I don't really know but it seems to be sturdy enough to hide us from them, Ron," said Hermione, brushing her golden honey curls. "Anyways, Where's Harry? Have you seen him?"
Ron gave her a minimal shrug and looked away from the dim lit campfire. Sitting on the rocky ground, he gazed upon a moving tree in the near distance while Hermione shifts to play along with fire's graceful dance.
The bleak atmosphere gave them colds and coughs. It's really hard to fight the cold without enough heat to stand by. They missed being in a safe, warm home where they share the joy in giving gifts this Christmas. They missed being in Hogwarts. They missed seeing the other students' smiles and laughter during this Christmas Eve and the Great Hall's bountiful feast. Oh how they would love to taste those splendid foods on their house tables! Ron's appetite was really knocking into the celebration. Munching chicken legs, drinking pumpkin juice, eating apple pies… Oh Ron, how he loves to eat. Hermione usually knocks him off to cut his appetite and show some table manners and Harry mostly laughs about it. But, tonight's different. This year, they're spending their Christmas in the Forest of Dean, hiding from the Ministry's range as they continue to hunt for the Undesirable No. 1, the muggle-born and the blood traitor as Voldemort takes over the Ministry by casting an Imperius Curse upon the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Pius Thicknesse, who became the Minister for Magic onwards; being the Dark Lord's itty-bitty puppet.
The Ministry has fallen... Scrimgeour is dead... They are coming…
That was Kingsley Shacklebolt's Patronus warning at the burrow. The occurrences were still recently burning from the back of their minds, scarring them from the furious fight from the Death Eaters' attack that leads them to flee to Tottenham Court Road in Muggle London, to 12 Gimmauld Place. After that, they caused mayhem in the ministry to take the Horcrux from Dolores Umbridge. So they ended up here, into the Forest of Dean to escape the wizarding worlds' fury.
So young to be fighting so many…
The two wondered where Harry is, thinking if the winter breeze froze him to death or worse, the Death Eaters seized him and brought him to You-Know-Who. They only know that he was out to destroy Salazar Slytherin's locket once again. He wants himself to know how to destroy it without any of his friends' help. And so, Ron and Hermione were seriously anxious about his safety.
"Don't you think it's too late? Harry's gone pretty long tonight, hasn't he?" asked Ron.
"I think so, Ron. Shall we check—?
Suddenly, they heard a voice from afar; A manly voice from the winter night's air. How strange it is to hear a cry in the middle of the night? They heard their names being called; warned about something. Danger.
"Ron! Hermione! Run! Run!" screamed the voice.
"Did you hear something, Hermione?" asked Ron, standing up in vigilance and doubt. Startled was he to hear an alert at midnight as he and Hermione wait for Harry's return.
Hermione replied, "No, Ron. I've heard no—
"Run! Hurry! They're coming!" warned the voice once again. This time, it was close enough in the range on their site.
The maiden witch wondered, "Ron, it seems to sound familiar—
"HERMIONE! RON! GO GRAB YOUR THINGS AND RUN!" forewarned by a young man, wearing a pair of black, round spectacles with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. It was time that they've noticed that it's Harry who was warning them. The young lad was dashing off to evade the two Death Eaters behind his trail. He was holding the locket of Salazar Slytherin and still, it remained firm after all the spells that could tear it open.
Ron and Hermione did as what he has ordered. They sprinted along with Harry as they try to elude the slayers. As swift as the wind, they cast curses and counter-curses at their backs. Offend, defend, protect, offend, defend, protect. The trees break, birds flee off, the ground lights up with some fire as the dodges go on. Everything was just the same as the chase continues as the forest resumes to be burned slowly.
After a cast of Bombarda Maxima, finally, they have escaped from Death's fierce jaws. The trio panted and wheezed in exhaustion. They rested upon a snow-covered tree nearby as they catch their every breath to recover. Hermione sat alongside with Ron and Harry as they ease up, fighting their fatigue and the cold.
"Blimey, Harry," panted Ron. "You bloody scared us half to death!"
"At least we're alive, Ron," wheezed Harry, sliding the locket into his left pocket of his jeans. "Thanks to me, I warned you on running off."
"Yeah, Ron," replied Hermione, breathing heavily as she got to her feet again, sweeping off the ashes off her clothes from the chase; leaning back on the tree. "Anyways, what happened a while back then?"
Harry tried to catch a breath for a while. He panted and breathed heavily as he tries to capture comfort. A flaming flashback gave him the impulse to gasp in the middle of the chat. It was a terrifying incident while he was destroying the horcrux as it went:
"Reducto!" cast Harry, swishing and flicking his wand. "Dissendium!" He repeated it over and over again until has recited every spell that he knew to open such objects and still, he failed. The locket was still sealed tight and firm. Some magic unknown for him must be keeping it sealed. It must take more magic to destroy this damn locket, he thought.
While he was still trying to demolish it, in the deep, dark time in the woods, someone heard him. A tall man with long, tangled brown hair caught his voice. Alongside of him was a man with a long, pale, blond hair who carried a walking stick with a silver snake on its head. The two men were known to be as Death Eaters; and loyal were they to Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy, the aristocratic blond beside the towering man named Scabior, is a very devoted Death Eater who gave up the Malfoy Manor for its use to be a hiding place for their alliance. On the other hand, Scabior is a wizard and a snatcher led by Fenrir Greyback, a werewolf who allied with the Dark Lord, during the second wizarding war.
The wealthy Malfoy and the snatcher were assigned to search around in the Forest of Dean while the others locate in the other parts of the wizarding world. Lucius was assigned to see Scabior's progress in catching his first target; the Golden Trio. The Dark Lord, of course, wants an assurance on the new workers he is assigning and so here, Lucius is observing Scabior's strategy in seizure for trust is the essential ingredient for Voldemort's success.
"It's Potter, Lucius," said Scabior, nudging the man beside him. "It's him. He's near. I've heard him!"
Dear Salazar, I hope he's correct this time, thought Lucius.
"Scabior, I don't presume—
"Will you just bloody see it for yourself?" asked Scabior, grabbing his walking stick. "Look!"
He pointed the refined Malfoy cane into Harry's direction; seeing him face to face with the horcrux. The boy gulped in surprise as the staff was pointed to him. He took the locket with him and dashed off the place to flee in safety. He warned Ron and Hermione to make a quick escape from them, which has lead to this.
"Lucius… Scabior… Chasing… Killing me…" puffed Harry, wearily. "They saw me destroying the locket."
The two gaped as they heard his side of explanation. They understood him. Even if the time is really disturbing. Pity and cogitation was their only rejoinder for him to feel their empathy.
"They never sleep, I reckon. They have their eyes locked on our every posting," said Hermione, starting to walk forward. "We better move quickly!"
"Wait Hermione," said Harry, grabbing Hermione's ankle to stop her. "I think we ended up on a campsite."
Harry stood up slowly, letting Hermione's ankle go as he started to study the place. Ron rose up as his mind wonders with Harry's. The two moved slowly forward to the place, examining and investigating the place. Hermione followed the two as well.
Harry studied at the thick textbooks, the well-set campfire, the wide potion-making table and the tremendously elegant tent that stood up on the cold forest floor. He touched and felt each detail and texture of the things around. Ron wandered with Hermione inside the tent, being astonished on some prestige furnishings and tools kept in the tent.
"It's the Malfoys' site," said Harry. "We're in the Malfoys' territory."
"I guess so, Harry. Just look at this wickedly snake-like chair here! It's bloody awesome!" said Ron, dumbstruck as he look at the furniture.
Harry lit the fire up to light and heat the place to struggle with the freezing zephyr. The onyx-colored lamps on the tables cannot do it alone of its weak warmth that it gives and their wands' lights weren't enough to see the whole tent.
"Just wait, Harry! Ron! Come here and look at this!" called out Hermione, pointing at a bent coat hanger. "It seems to be familiar, don't you think? It must be a hidden portkey."
The two looked to Hermione's direction.
"Hm? How come, Hermione? It must be just some ordinary coat hanger, you know. You must be tired." said Ron.
"No, Ron! Just look!" replied Hermione.
The two men betook on Hermione's place on what she has found. Judging it by the looks, it's just an ordinary coat hanger. It was atrociously unusual to see a portkey inside a campsite of the Death Eaters. Although, it might be possible; protected for a cause, thus, linking to Voldemort's potency to rule the wizarding world. Why would they defend the portkey? How come this portkey is linked to the Dark Lord's power?
"Look! There's a note here," said Ron as he grabs the paper attached to the coat hanger. "It says: Beware! Any sign of touch on this fragmented portkey shall be lead into an unknown place called 'Panem', as said by the witnesses. The ministry remains to investigate this portkey. Signed, Pius Thicknesse."
"Panem? What's that?" asked Harry, looking confused and puzzled.
Ron seemed to wonder what that hidden place is too. And so, the two boys looked at Hermione, looking for some answer to come out from her mouth. After all, she is the brightest witch of their age who was fond of reading books in their school library. Without her in the circle, the boys would be nothing but vacuous fighters without any strategy or knowledge.
"An unknown place… Panem… I don't know this place, Harry," said Hermione. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever this 'Panem' is, this might be some sort of scheme from You-Know-Who to get some power or something," said Ron, throwing away the crumpled paper.
Suddenly, they heard voices outside the tent. They eyed two manly silhouettes from the façade of the tent, a tall one with a straight hair and a short one with a sleek, brushed hair. The trio gasped in surprise and eagerly hid under the bed, leaving no sound to remain hidden. Harry huddled up between Ron and Hermione as quickly as they can to avoid the people outdoors to spot them.
"Father, I guarantee, I've heard someone here!" said a voice of a young man. "The fire's lit. Can't you see?"
The voice sounded familiar, thought Harry. He still kept quiet and listened to the colloquy of the people around to hide his identity to them.
"Draco, you must be delirious again. I have the knowledge that you're not used to these compelled duties from the Dark Lord," said another voice with a grunt, deeper than the first one. "Get some rest. Tomorrow will take much more of your stamina. I must be going to hunt for that Potter boy at this moment."
"Alright then, father," spoke Draco.
Hearing his footsteps towards the bed as he lies down, the three were muted of anything. They went quiet as they can just for them not to be heard by Draco Malfoy, their childhood enemy. His insults for them never run out in a daily basis for his pride of his blood type, fortune and fame that have never stopped. He was eloquent on the language wherein he's the topic. The Boy who Scored, Potty, Saint Potter, Weaselbee, Mudblood… Oh how those words pierce on Harry, Ron and Hermione's ears. But, look at them now. They're fighting against the sides of their choice. Has this boy made the wrong choice? No. Draco didn't actually choose this side. He was forced to be a Death Eater by his father, Lucius Malfoy. He was even obliged to kill Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts' headmaster. He didn't want to murder anyone with the Killing Curse. He has the skill of casting it but he never had the nerve to use it on any human. Severus Snape, a Hogwarts professor who was in an unbreakable vow with Draco's mother to protect him, killed Dumbledore instead of the young boy himself to do it. Draco was even shocked on what his professor did to the headmaster. He has seen every detail in the incident that made him weak.
A deathly trauma struck him. What a poor soul this lad has. Mislead, pitiful and deluded was he.
Lying on the bed, the young beau told to himself with a sigh, "When will this bloody war end? I hate seeing those damn blood."
The three combatants under his bed started to wonder why their foe said that. Is he fighting on our side or he just said that because he's naturally apathetic of this duty? It made them think of it as a good omen.
"Harry," whispered Ron, giving him an elbow. " I'm afraid I might sneeze. I'm pretty allergic to dust."
"Not now, Ron!" Harry whispered back fumingly. "Can't you hold—?
"A-ACHOOOOOO! " sneezed Ron. "Sorry, Harry."
Draco was startled from the noise he heard underneath his bed. So he speedily stood up, got his wand and positioned himself, ready to fight; not knowing his opponents are under his bed.
"Who are you? Show yourself!" screamed Draco. His pale, pointed face was sprinkled with sweat beads. His breathing went short as his light, golden, brushed hair went into a mess; horrified by the clamor.
The trio kept silent under the bed, not replying to Draco's questions.
"I'll distract him and you guys go on and escape, okay?" whispered Harry to his compeers.
Hermione and Ron protested inaudibly to his favor to them as they pull him back.
"No, Harry! Have you gone bloody mental?" objected Ron, quietly. "You can't show up! He might kill you, Harry!"
Draco started to look around the tent as his worries try to rise up to fear. He opened the chests, flung off the pile of dirty clothes and kicked some more trunks inside. He maneuvered himself around to check the whole tent for enemies except his very own bed.
"Show yourself!" he demanded furiously as his tone broke.
Harry crawled out below the bed and stood up, raising his hands.
"What the– What does he think he's doing? Has he have gone daft?" asked Hermione, whispering to Ron.
"I don't bloody know, Hermione!" Ron whispered back, tugging Harry's pants.
She's probably surprised of what Harry was bloody doing. She doesn't know what Harry's up to but she trusts him even if he's doing is really barking mad.
I hope Harry's plan won't fail this time, thought Hermione as she stopped Ron from tweaking Harry's trousers.
"It's me, Malfoy. Here I am," said Harry, surrendering.
"Well if it isn't Scarhead Potter. What are you doing in here?" asked Draco, pointing his wand at Harry.
"I just ended up here, wandering. I was searching for some… food."
"Poor Potty. No food to eat in the snowy forest?" replied Draco, shoving him against the tent's chilly floor. "Pathetic."
Harry just glared at Draco in response, saying no word about his statement.
Draco pushed his wand underneath Harry's chin as he stepped on his chest, causing him to wince.
"Where is the horcrux, Potter? Huh? Give it to me and you won't get hurt." stipulated Draco.
"I don't… have it!" scowled Harry.
"You don't need to play hard-to-get, Potter," spat Draco as he prepares to cast a spell on Harry. "GIVE IT TO ME AND YOU WON'T GET—
"STOP!" yelled Hermione after she crept out under the bed. "Don't hurt him! Please!"
"Sod off, Mudblood," said Draco, now pointing his wand to Hermione. "This here, is none of your business!"
Mudblood…
She paused after she heard it. The word rang like a bell to her. It pierced her heart so much that she was brought into rage. How wounding it is to hear that word, knowing that she does not deserve the magic she possesses. Briskly, Hermione walked towards Draco's direction and pushed him, causing him to stumble down. She tackled him and pinned him on the floor; wrapping her left hand on his neck as her other hand held her wand that pointed on his left cheek.
"What did you just called me, Malfoy? A Mudblood?" asked Hermione angrily, pricking her wand to Draco. "A filthy, little mudblood like the one that you've said to me in 2nd year? Huh, Malfoy?"
Ron slid out of the bed to stop Draco but Harry fled off to his company. Harry's breaths were heavy enough to get a part from the air. As he and Ron tried to give Hermione a helping hand, the two boys prepared their wands as the point it towards Draco's direction, being Hermione's backups.
Draco just let out an evil smirk as he held the muggle-born witch's hand to lessen its heavy hustle. He was being amused on Hermione's valor-turned-tomfoolery. The occult maiden raised an eyebrow, wondering what would his cause of sudden rapture be.
"Granger, Granger, Granger. You never grew up, don't you?" said Draco as he shook his head and Hermione impaled her wand with greater pressure. "Look behind you."
Hermione did what Draco said. She turned her head and saw Harry and Ron were silenced against the wall and startled form Lucius' presence on Hermione's back. Draco let out a dark, conceited chuckle of triumph as he sees the exiguous lion cub; trapped by two, blood-curdling snakes. Hermione gasped and let go of Draco after noticing the older Malfoy that was ready to snuff her. Struggling the urge to shriek in surprise, she tilted her head, gesturing to point to the broken portkey to lead her friends to safety.
"Miss Granger, I do believe that trespassing isn't allowed," said Lucius, simpering smugly as he points his wand to her. "You do know that muggle-borns like you aren't allowed in this place."
"Shut it, Lucius," she spat acidly.
"Hmm… I can see that you have the nerve on speaking to me that tone—
Before Lucius could finish the sentence, she cast a full body-binding curse on him, causing him to be immobilized. Draco positions himself as he sees his father, petrified by his own eyes. He cast a Cruciatus Curse vainly on Hermione and luckily, she evaded it.
"Deprimo!" cast Hermione as she rushed to the damaged portkey. Even though it's broken, it's her only way to escape the Malfoys' anger.
It hit Draco and fractured his left ankle as it was dragged down forcefully. Draco tried his best to recover but Hermione has escaped. Even if she was in, he still entered the wrecked portkey to Panem despite the burning pain on his sprained ankle.
A/N: Okay, so how's the fic going? Is it fine? Are there errors? Please do review! It's first one tho. Teehee. Also, thanks to Val, Moira and Loren for the help. I owe you guys so much! Oh yeah, some music to hear as you read this. I suggest Who am I Living For by Katy Perry and Looking Up by Paramore. Well, I guess it's pretty compatible. So… Thanks for reading! There's a next chapter don't worry, okay?
SINCERELY, Tanz. x