Harry kicked out wildly, trying to push himself back to the surface, but merely propelled himself into the rocky side of the pool. Thrashing, suffocating, he scrabbled at the strangling chain, his frozen fingers unable to loosen it, and now little lights were popping inside his head, and he was going to drown, there was nothing left, nothing he could do, and the arms that closed around his head were certainly Death's…
He felt himself slipping and reached up as far as he could go, desperate to return to the surface. He thrust his icy hand upwards, but before he could grab onto anything, he felt the bitter depth of the water envelop him. The last thing he felt before being surrounded by black light and a seemingly eternal pain, was a warm breeze sweeping over his hand.
Hermione and Ron rushed over, horrified at what they were seeing.
"Harry," gasped Hermione, as tears threatned to spill. "Ron, what can we do?"
Ron stood there, mouth wide open in shock.
"Quick," Ron said with panic evident in his voice. "We better move him, if he's going to survive we can't have death eaters around,"
Hermione grabbed her wand, and pointed it at Harry's unconscious body.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she whispered, as the tears slipped down her face.
Back at the tent, Hermione and Ron were desperate. Hermione had brought all of her books with her, thinking that they could be useful, and as always she was right. Hermione let out a rather loud sigh.
"How are we ever going to get through all of these books?" asked Hermione, despair apparent in her voice. The table she was sitting at with Ron had dozens of stacks 10 high of thick leather bound books.
Ron gave her a loving look.
"'Mione, if anyone can do this, then it'll be you," said Ron, wishing that Hermione could know how he felt about her.
"I hope so," said Hermione, grateful for Ron's support, picking up another tome.