Chapter 7

"Wake up you silly girl," Tom muttered under his breath, shaking Hermione's arm rather forcefully.

He was having an awful day—he had woken up with a thrumming headache, and the clamorous noises of his comrades quarrelling had exacerbated the problem; he had somehow managed to misplace his wand, which he had later on found tucked under his bed after twenty minutes of panicked ransacking of his room AND he had been late for breakfast.

He had always enjoyed breakfast and never missed it, not once.

But resolving the stupid quarrel between Lestrange and Malfoy had taken an hour and by the time he had managed to climb down to the dining area, they had run out of omelettes. He had had to make do with buttered toast and watered down orange juice.

Afterwards, he had hoped to make an early start with the rest of his team but that was not to be.

Avery had apparently overeaten the previous night and was suffering from severe food poisoning. Malfoy had managed to make a fool out of himself trying to cast a memory charm on Lestrange, who had caught him in the act and had retaliated with a dark curse of his own making.

And Hermione, the bloody queen of all nuisances, was still sleeping.

She groaned and pushed away his hand, thrusting a pillow over her head.

"Great." He rolled his eyes, utterly frustrated. He was a very patient boy in most cases but with the way the events were turning out for him, he might just lose his temper and woe be to those who stumbled his way then.

"Okay, time for harsher measures."

He whipped out his wand from his back pocket and clicked his tongue at her sleeping form. Her stupid dress was all crumpled and he could see her exposed buttocks hanging out quite obscenely, mid-air.

"Temuro," he murmured softly.

A large trumpet materialised out of nowhere and stationed itself quite close to her head.

When he flicked his finger next, it blared.

Ah, the loud blare of a war trumpet.

He had quite forgotten how powerful it could be, he thought.

Within seconds, Hermione jerked awake, sitting up in her bed and yelling at him loudly to make the irksome nose stop. Her eyes bulged in shock and annoyance and he could see spit flying out of her tongue, uttering profanities at the innocent object.

He leaned against the wall and simply stared in amusement.

"Make it stop, Tom!" she yelled again, throwing her pillow at him but he ducked. Meanwhile, the door of her room crashed open and in fell his comrades, one upon another in a promiscuous heap of incoherence and stupidity, enquiring of him and her as to what was going on, and he had to look away.

"I really ought to get new peers," he muttered to himself, shaking his head, and waved his hand.

The trumpet disappeared into thin air and silence fell upon all those present.

"I will only say this once, all of you, so listen carefully," he said softly, taking turns to look at each one of them meaningfully. Hermione still had her head buried in her hands. "I want you all gathered at the gate in the next fifteen minutes—anyone who delays will be left behind. I have had enough of bickering and tarrying and to be quite frank, it doesn't amuse me anymore."

He thought he had made his point when he casually flicked his wand at Malfoy, who cringed in fear and stumbled backwards, falling when he hit the desk behind him. Tom simply stared with an inscrutable expression on his face but he knew that they all understood the seriousness in his command.

"Fifteen minutes, everyone." He stepped over Malfoy, pocketing his wand, and glanced backwards. "Make sure that she's with you when you come down, Avery—I will hold you personally responsible."

Avery gave him a curt nod and Tom took off, intent on catching some fresh air.

"Something smells foul, what could it be?" Hermione covered her mouth and nose, wrinkling her brows. Tom was being awfully quiet, his eyes flitting about in all directions whilst they trudged the rough terrain. The forest was thick and very little light penetrated the tree cover. "I don't like forests."

It was also cold.

Everyone else had kind of wandered off; they knew the general direction in which they were supposed to be heading and Tom had chosen to walk with her.

"Keep close," Tom warned, one of the only few phrases he had cared to utter every since they had started. "I don't—believe this forest is as innocent as it seems."

"In no universe does this forest seem innocent, Tom; we must have your head checked for that presumption."

"The innkeeper said—" Tom started but broke off midway, reaching out for a twig on the ground and sniffing it. He was—absurdly weird at times...

She was still licking off the embarrassing memories from the night before; true, they were hazy in details but she still remembered the general outline and it did nothing to improve her self esteem.

The ground was damp, covered in a thin cover of green—lichens, mosses and the like and Hermione had this strangest feeling that the forest was alive.

"We've been walking for hours, can't we just rest?" she panted, using a tree bark to lean against and support her weight.

"No." Tom bent down and touched the ground, running his fingers over its muddy cover. "We can't stop right now—"

Hermione sighed and trudged on, tired to the point of exhaustion.

Half an hour later, she found her strength giving way.

"I can't walk anymore and unless you're willing to carry me further or back to the inn, I think I shall lie down under this tree and doze off." With that, she dropped to the cosiest looking patch of grass and stuck out her legs, massaging them with her hands.

"We have to move, Hermione," Tom said in a level voice, not bothering to glance at her. "This forest isn't safe, and I would rather not stay here for the night if I can help it."

"Well—how far is the border anyway?"

"I don't know for sure; this forest seems to be more expansive than I expected."

"Could it be," she began carefully, massaging her swollen ankles, "—that we have lost our way?"

Tom sat on haunches, drawing obscure patterns on the ground with his wand.

"No. I don't believe we are lost. The others, however—seem to have ventured in the wrong directions altogether and it would probably be best if we regrouped with them and then moved forward."

He sighed and threw a stone into the nearest pond, creating ripples.

"How do you propose to do that? I can't walk anymore and we might be lost trying to find them again and it would all be no good anyway by then—the night isn't far away."

She looked skywards and hugged herself, feeling wary all of a sudden.

The forest felt foreboding.

"Finding them isn't a problem—it is the least of my concerns really. It's the nightfall that worries me." He scowled and rose to sit by her, leaning against the tree bark, and opened the topmost buttons of his shirt. Next, he rolled up his sleeves and revealed a tattoo to her.

It was grotesque—serpentine lines ran up and down through the animated skull engraved in his skin and she almost shuddered. It looked so very real and alive, as if it breathed through his skin, corrupting, tainting, and murmuring—

"What's this?" she asked, not daring to touch the hideous mark on his unblemished skin. "Pardon me, but it almost looks like—it's disgusting, Tom, and I don't know why but I feel sick."

He gave her a patronising smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and touched the tattoo with an elegant finger. The craven snake hissed, Hermione swore she could hear the sound, and curled inwards and it looked like the skull had swallowed the snake.

"It's a mark of—affinity that my group has for each of its members, they all have one you know—this way, we always know how to find someone when they're lost, like right now." His eyes glittered in a strange emotion that she had never had the chance to witness and she felt an instinctive need to cringe away from him. At the same time, however, Tom looked up and gave her a reassuring smile. "Wherever they are, this mark will guide them to me once it is activated—it'll be less trouble for us, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "I guess, when you put it that way, it seems quite helpful. I bet there's more to it though. What else does it do?"

He didn't respond, choosing to focus on some point over her shoulder.

"What is it?" She shivered, glancing at him curiously.

He gave her a cursory look, sort of unseeing and momentarily afraid, and she swallowed.

"I should—light a fire; it's getting cold."

He waved a practiced hand at the short tufts of grass that lay embedded in the ground, green and yellowing strands, and a light blue flame erupted from his wand, landing in the centre of the heap.

Hermione felt a comforting warmth wash over her, as the fire spread and basked her skin in tender light.

"When will they come?"

"Soon," he answered shortly, warming his hands-she thought he must be hiding something from her, he must have for gone was the countenance of cool indifference and though she couldn't claim to be an expert in reading him, she could feel waves of uncertainty rolling off him.

They sat huddled over the fire for ten minutes, during which Hermione made no noise and Tom kept glancing at his watch.

He even ventured to draw a circle that embraces most the clearing, effectively trapping them in the middle. She didn't ask him what it was but it must have been some sort of protective enchantment for she heard him chanting under his breath

"If they don't return in another five minutes, we'll leave here," he said after some time, staring at her concerned face.

"We can't do that," she protested, looking at his pale, haunted face in the dismembered moonlight."We can't leave people behind-what are you afraid of?"

He shook his head, putting up a finger on his lips.

HIs eyes suddenly grew alert and he snapped his head to his right. She mimicked his line of sight and found her own ears registering a dim thudding noise-someone was running towards them.

Tom immediately jumped up and whipped out his wand, running towards the thick bushes. A few seconds later, Lestrange, Avery and Mulciber fell through, breathless and panting—there were scratches all over their arms and legs, their faces were white with fear and their bulging eyes were red—Hermione stepped forward to help them but Tom grabbed her wrist and pushed her back.

"Don't leave the circle," he growled, his voice barely above whisper. "Hurry up you fools, inside the circle. NOW!"

His last word was a yell—it was shrill and inhuman and was immediately followed by a louder, animalistic wail that made chills run down her spine—it wasn't Tom; this had to be some animal and judging by its pitch and noise, it was close by.

"Where's Malfoy?" Hermione asked as the boys stumbled, running into the circle and collapsed near the fire. It was good that the circle was big for their limbs were spread haywire all over the damp ground and she looked at Tom for answers. "What's happening?"

"There are wolves in the forest," Lestrange croaked, sitting on all fours, his hands trembling as he pushed against the ground for support. "—Malfoy—he fell, we couldn't stop—"

"I think they caught our scent," Avery whispered, shuddering against a large boulder. "I think they'll follow-"

Hermione looked at each of their faces—terrified and worn as they were, there was something akin to determination in them as wee—Tom stared hard at the ground, unseeing.

A sudden movement in the bushes once more—a hushing silence fell on all of them—she took a step backwards, Avery gripped his wand tightly and Tom stood motionless, his chin held up and his wand drawn—Lestrange ran a shaking hand all over his face and Hermione felt her palms sweat.

Malfoy, bleeding and torn, staggered through—his wand held askew and his nearly perfect hair all messed up, his pale features frozen in fatigue and fear—Tom took two quick strides towards him and dragged him into the circle.

"They're coming," he breathed, collapsing on the ground. "There's too many of them—we can't possibly stop them all— and it isn't just wolves, there are other things in the forest—it's a trap."

Tom's jaw tightened and his eyes took on a frosty look.

He stood up resolutely, staring into the crackling fathoms of the dying fire and closed his eyes.

Another lamenting howl sounded in the distance.

"Take positions."

What?

What positions?

Hermione stood there, baffled, in the midst of it all as the boys spread to the periphery of the circle.

"We'll form the circle of flame, on my signal. It's the best we can do for now—"Remember, whatever happens, do not spill blood. Defend and run, but do no spill blood—" Tom broke off midway, eyes intently fixed at some point in the darkness.

And there they were.

All Hermione could see were eyes—big, glowing, red eyes that seemed to stretch out on all sides and they were faint, sort of blending into darkness now and then and she heard the collective, single minded scraping of paws on the ground—her back hit the tree bark and she felt her legs shake involuntarily,

"Now!"

Three concentric circles of red fire erupted, surrounding them all with fiendish flames that leapt up high into the sky, lashing, eviscerating—at the exact same moment, a huge wolf jumped from the periphery, howling mid-air, and roared when it couldn't pass through the barrier—it bared its teeth and howled again, a terrifying, mournful sound and Hermione felt her legs giving way.

There they stood, all five of them spread out in the circle, their wands throbbing with the amount of magical energy they were expending, and the world about them roared and screamed while they tried their best to not lose footing and keep it up.

And Hermione just stood there, feeling fucking useless.

She didn't even know what a circle of fire was.

Ten minutes later, however, she could see weariness beginning to spread among the boys and it looked like they'd probably collapse under the sheer weight of their bones—the amount of magic flowing through them was enormous and the enemy did not seem to have relented.

"I can't keep this up, Tom!" Malfoy struggled to keep the energy flowing from his wand—Hermione could tell that he was spent, a look of sheer despondence and weariness spread over his pale features. "I'm going to pull out."

"Not yet."

"I will faint if I keep it up."

Tom's face looked worried now. The wolves were howling all around them, snapping their jaws, growling, beckoning—Hermione refused to look at them, keeping her eyes trained on each of the boys one by one and keeping her wand at ready—her fingers were growing numb from cold and she refused to feel fear, not that debilitating, visceral fear that she had felt momentarily at first sight and the one she might feel again if she caught a glimpse of their hideous faces again.

"Hermione, come here. " Tom motioned to her. "Take this—read it and memorise it, visualise it and remove your cubes—you must get this right, for we won't have another chance."

He had pushed into her hand a small piece of parchment and scribbled on it were a few words, a sort of incantation—she read them quickly, memorising them, and crumpled the piece in her hand.

"What does this do?"

He paused, and snapped the fingers of his other hand—a blue-green halo of light shot from his fingers, lighting up the ground ahead and it seemed to stretch across the clearing, going beyond her line of sight.

"That's the path we need to use to get out of this fucking forest," he said, narrowing his eyes at the fire circles. Exertion was beginning to show on him as well. "This spell will slow down time for all those existing outside this circle, in a limited area. Be quick though, Malfoy isn't going to last long now. Any moment—don't fail Hermione, we're counting on you."

She swallowed and looked at the rest of the crowd—they were too busy holding the spell, making it work in continuation, to actually pay her any kind of attention at all. The fires seemed to be fading and the wind grew heavier—a strange fear filled her heart.

"Okay," she breathed deeply. "I can do this."

"In Dorime Tora, Nafusul anikhte,

In dorie tora, Mofusil, torre!"

She caught the cubes between her fingers—they thrummed gently with the raw power held inside them and she hoped that it had worked—God only knew what they would do if it hadn't.

With a smooth sweep upwards, she flung them into air. They made an arc like movement, hovering mid-air for the smallest fraction of a second before each of them dove down to the ground, hitting it squarely in places.

They congealed the next moment, like a fusing mass of molten metal, and suddenly a brilliant flash of blinding light lit up the small clearing—Hermione used her elbows and hands to shade her eyes, falling to the ground on her knees.

She felt the spell leave her body—she hadn't expected that, she didn't know in full the theory and its use and the power was still humming in her body, sickening her...

A moment later, when all seemed quiet, she peeped out from behind her fingers. It was a bizarre sight that met her eyes. Electric blue threads of light seemed to connect her with each of the boys, and the darkness outside the circle was absolute for the ring of fire had broken.

Tom stared at the thread of light that seemed to pass through his abdomen, connecting him to her. His eyes grew wider in wonder and he looked at her with parted lips.

"You did it."

"What the fuck is this?"

Malfoy had almost fainted—he scampered to Tom's side on all fours, coughing.

Lestrange ran his unoccupied hand through the blue light, his mouth open in shock. Mulciber was helping Avery stand up, looking at Tom with questioning eyes.

Her eyes snapped to the woods outside the circle—the dark figures of wolves beyond the periphery of light seemed to have frozen and she didn't have the courage to look closely, she was still afraid and the electric light coursing through her veins was visible, it stung within her skin, prickling, slashing, and burning—

"What in the world is happening? Tom?" Avery asked.

Tom stared at Hermione, his eyes eerily devoid of emotion. "Lestrange, follow the trail of blue-green with others—tend to Malfoy, drag him with you if you want—we don't have more than ten minutes for this spell will weaken her and if she runs out of energy, it will die; you better run for your lives or this forest will devour you."

Without a look backwards, he grabbed Hermione's wrist, pulling her up to a standing position—she staggered at the force in his tug and followed him as he ran, keeping her eyes down to the ground—they ran blindly, almost as if the hell hounds were alive and at their heels.

She must have brushed against the frozen fur of something—she cringed and gasped, running, running, running, running...

The magic in her skin was burning her alive, she couldn't hold on for longer, she wouldn't –but the tug of his hand and the support of his arm egged her on—she stumbled and staggered, all this while very much conscious of the fact that her layers of her mind were unravelling, like a half-remembered dream.

"I have to—I can't, it's going to—it's going to kill me—" she gasped, reeling under the weight of her own magic. "Tom!"

His grip on her arm tightened, he pulled her forcefully, quickening his run and dragging her with him.

"Just a little further, Hermione, just a little more—it's not far now—hold on and we'll be okay—don't—"

Just a little further.

Run.

Just a little further.

Run.

The ground was damp. The trees were dark. And the wind was blowing harshly, deeply, biting, biting, gnawing—

The thick cover of trees grew sparse and she could see the end of that fell forest in sight. It only took them about five minutes before they crossed what seemed like a visible boundary and Tom let go of her hand, falling to the ground, and she lurched forward, catching herself just in time.

The magic that held him chained to her broke as well, and she realised that the searing pain in her veins had ceased.

"What the fuck just happened back in there? Wasn't it supposed to be safe?" She looked at the forest. "We should—we shouldn't stop—they'll come, won't they give chase?"

Tom coughed, using his palms to support his weight against the ground.

He spat.

"No, those beasts are bound to the forest—we're outside their domain now and they won't be able to cross the boundary." Hermione thought she could hear others running towards them—they would make it, alright." It would have been an entirely different case if we had killed one of them."

"What do you mean?" She sat on a small rock, examining her arms for bruises and wounds. "And what was that strange piece of magic you just had me perform?"

"This forest—it is a trap. I am not sure if it was meant for us but it was a most ingenious piece of trap for unsuspecting travellers. If we had killed any of the beasts, or any other shadowy creatures that live down there, they would have been freed from the magical boundary that keeps them in the forest." He frowned, checking his wand. She could see Avery and Lestrange running towards them in hurry; Mulciber was slower since he carried Malfoy's prone form hovering through the last trees that marked the forest's territory. "As far as the magic you performed is concerned, I crafted that incantation—it never worked for me with a wand but with Arithmancy Cubes, I deemed it possible and took a chance. It was a very advanced piece of magic and this happens to be a very delicate problem with such pieces, they require vast amounts of energy for application and your body just wasn't ready for it, I believe."

The moonlight made it all look so dark and ethereal.

She shivered.

"I felt like I would die—it tried to kill me, the very magic of my own body tried to strangle me."

"It's like a beast that needs to be controlled—you'll learn how, you'll get better." His silver eyes shone in a delightful colour—a sort of blue that made his thin smile appear ominous and charming at the same time. "You did really well out there, I'm proud of you."

Hermione bit her lip, looked around and caught sight of smoke rising up behind a thin patch of trees. She wasn't sure if she wanted to control or tame that sort of magic.

It had taken all her strength, all her sanity and if she had held on for long, she knew that it would have driven her to madness, if not death.

"There's a village up there, I think."

"And here come the rest of our party," Tom commented. "We'll rest another night there... We all need to recuperate."

Hey guys, I am not sure I did a great job with this... so confused. Do you like it?

Please leave a review so that I can think better and write more.

Cheers.