A/N 07-11-14: Hey guys! So, we're heading into real heart of book 3 now with chapters 6 and 7, perhaps even the whole trilogy. They are both practically novel length in their own right, so I will be separating them out into 3 parts each, before we'll have the chapter sized epilogue to take us to the end. Thank you to everyone who's read so far, I hope you're enjoying it! I can't wait to see what you think of the big finale over the next couple of months, it's going to be quite the ride ;-)

Hxxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Six – Part One

Farewell To The Fairground

xxx

The light still in our eyes

We're leaving this old fairground behind

It's a dream that's growing cold

The circus never dies

The act forever haunts these skies

I know we cannot stay

Farewell to the fairground

These rides aren't working anymore

Goodbye to this dead town

Until the ice begins to thaw

Keep on running

K-Keep on running

There's no place like home

There's no place like home

xxx

White Lies

xxx

Harry Potter shook his head and blinked. What on Earth had happened? He was standing in a field, surrounded by various coloured tents and dozens of eclectic looking people sprinting around him. He was assaulted by an onslaught of noises; people shouting and screaming, metal clanging, machines whirling. Though Harry couldn't place where most of the commotion was coming from because all he could see were tents, it seemed close.

There was a fresh breeze ruffling the grass and the sky looked bright but stormy with the clouds hurrying on by. Where was the library? Where was Hermione with the straight hair or the strange Librarian with all the answers?

A black cloud of smoke went flying overhead, and Harry instinctively ducked. Several people were charging after it, firing spells of all kinds that made the cloud jerk and twitch as if it were alive.

Harry felt a sliver of fear run down his spine. Why couldn't he help but feel he'd walked into some kind of battle? What had happened since he'd been gone? Was this even Limbo, or was it...? He blanched, taking a deep breath. Could this possibly be another reality, like where that other Harry had come from?

He shook his head and did his best to dismiss that thought. This place was manic, absolutely chaotic. Even just from the small group of people he'd seen he could tell they were from all seven continents, and from completely different time frames. The Librarian had said that people who had disappeared most recently from their worlds would re-materialise first. After that, Harry figured it didn't matter how long ago people landed in Limbo, they would eventually appear here, and that would explain why everybody's clothes looked like something from a museum. No, this was definitely Limbo.

Reassured, he felt around his waist to check that the rope Hermione had attached was still very much there, although now he couldn't see it. If he ran his hand from his waist out he could feel it taut, but if he let go and waved his hand where he knew the rope was, he felt nothing. At least that side of things had gone to plan.

How on Earth was he going to find Sirius? He had thought the appearance of Limbo might have altered slightly in the time he was gone, but this was far more drastic than he'd feared. Who were all these people, were they all half-lives? And why were they in this frenzied state, was there some kind of ruckus going on?

He picked a spot between the nearest tents and walked through. He was in a sort of corridor of tents, all of varying sizes and contents, some huge with production lines of swords and shields, others very small with huddles of witches around bubbling cauldrons. He looked left and he looked right, a hint of panic rising in his chest. He had absolutely no idea where to start, but after taking a few steadying breaths he just decided to take his chances and go left. Walking in any direction would surely increase his chances of finding his godfather rather than just standing still and waiting for him to appear.

He gripped his wand and looked about. Young boys of every creed were working together filling pails of water from a well, sloshing it over the sides of the buckets in their race to move on to the next one. A remarkably well behaved giant was waiting with his hands out, and the boys looped the bucket handles on to each finger as they filled them. Once the giant had two on each digit Harry watched him amble off, and the boys slumped against the well's stonework, panting.

Some of the tent insides he passed were very modern, more like factories or offices, but they still looked medieval on the outside. Japanese samurai stood alongside Tudor soldiers and Arabian mystics, but the strange thing was they all seemed to be getting along just fine.

A loud explosion made Harry jump and slip into a muddy puddle. He closed his eyes, balled up his fists and tried not to cry out in frustration. He didn't understand what this crazy place was or how he could hope to start looking for Sirius. He didn't know if there was a time limit on how long the enchanted rope would last, or even how long this particular version of Limbo would last. What if reality changed around him? Would the rope still pull them back?

"Harry?" cried out a voice with a thick London accent in confusion, and Harry opened his eyes to see a knight in red and gold livery running towards him. "Harry what are you doing, I thought we left you with Draco up the mountain?"

Harry blinked as the man skidded to a halt and grabbed his hand to yank him from the mud. Draco? he thought. Was this guy talking about the version of Malfoy Harry had met in the Library, the one from another world?

"Er, do I know you?" he asked, but the knight, who was very tall indeed, suddenly grabbed Harry's arm and the two of them dove into the nearest tent. It was a sort of armoury, with stacks of steal swords lined up and piles of shields all over the floor.

"Sorry," said the tall man with a wave of his hand, and Harry turned to see a little troll looking unimpressed with his hammer suspended above a glowing axe head. The man pressed Harry and himself away from the tent's entrance. "You might want to duck," warned the knight.

Harry wanted to ask why, but the troll just did as he was told. It was lucky, because at that moment a terrible roar sounded through the air, and Harry saw what he thought had to be a huge black dragon with a golden belly swoop down the line of tents, several witches and wizards chasing after it on broomsticks.

"What the Hell is going on?" breathed Harry.

The man looked him up and down. "You're not the same Harry are you?" he said with a sigh. "Of course you're not, because that would be simple."

Harry wasn't sure why a knight would have an East End accent, but it was unnerving. He raised his eyebrows. "I guess not," he said. "Because I don't know who you are. Is there a different Harry here?"

"Yes," said the knight, peering out of the tent, then obviously deciding it was safe as he walked out with a salute to the troll. "And you can call me Ric."

"Is this still Limbo?" Harry asked the man called Ric, following him outside again, careful not to step on any scorched earth from the dragon chase.

"Yes," said Ric, distracted and looking around, his wand in his hand.

"But it looked like a Library before," pressed Harry, determined to get some more information.

Ric's head swung round, his full attention suddenly on Harry. "Oh you're that Harry Potter," he said. "The one my Harry took the place of."

"Your Harry?" repeated Harry, but Ric was already striding off, so Harry and to jog to keep up with him.

"From my world," said Ric, scanning the tents as they walked past them. "The one we left with Draco – no, not like that, they'll never do!" He marched into a candy striped tent which turned out to be an office board room on the inside. Harry peered after the knight to see him take a marker pen off of an Edwardian gentleman and alter the diagram he had been drawing on a white board for a motley collection of coal miners and US marines.

Harry felt a wave of frustration roll over him. He didn't have time for this, he needed to find Sirius as soon as possible. "Look," he said, as Ric strode out again shaking his head, but the knight held up and finger to silence him and pulled out his wand.

"Expecto Patronum," he said, and a huge silvery shape exploded from the tip of his wand. Harry jumped back as a magnificent lion took shape, scuffing its paws and swishing its tail. "Find Cassius," said Ric to his Patronus. "I need a full report, he's been quite for too long."

The lion roared, making Harry jump backwards, then tore off through the tents. "I'm sorry," said Harry, losing his rag a little. "But just what the Hell is going on here, where did the library go, why does this place feel like a battle ground, and where did my godfather go?"

Ric cast cold eyes onto him. "The other Harry has a better temper than you."

"I don't CARE!" Harry yelled, earning a few wayward stares. He clenched his fists and did his best to ignore how much taller the other man was than him. "I broke into the Ministry, I forced my way back here – if you knew I was here before did you know I was with a man, Sirius Black? Do you know where he is?"

Ric turned on his heels and began marching off again.

"Hey!" yelled Harry.

"Do you want to find Sirius or not?" Ric barked, and Harry instantly felt his agitation quell.

"So you do know him?" he said meekly.

Ric swept through a gaggle of sailors, peasant folk and regular, modern-looking wizards. "I can point you in the right direction, that's it," he said sternly. "I'm just a little busy at the moment."

Harry's eyes scanned the carnage they were hurrying through. "You're fighting someone?"

"Yes," said Ric grimly. "Okay, you need to find the big red top, can't miss it, it's massive. From there you're on your own."

"And that's where Sirius is?" clarified Harry.

Ric didn't even bother answering, his attention had been snapped elsewhere. Harry just decided that's what he had meant. Ric shook his head. "Only an idiot would come back here," he growled softly, and Harry wasn't sure he was talking to him or himself.

"So," said Harry, sensing he was losing Ric. "The big top is near here?"

"Yes," said Ric, waving his hand towards their left. "I don't get what you're trying to achieve though."

"I'm going to get us both home," said Harry proudly. Now this did catch Ric's attention.

"You're going to take him out of Limbo?" he said slowly. Something about his expression gave Harry a chill, but he stood strong.

"Yes," he said with conviction. "I've got a plan."

Ric raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with that," he said flatly.

A black teenage girl suddenly came sprinting towards them at an astonishing rate. She had a wiry, muscular frame and was dressed in little more than a sack. "Mas'er Gryffindor Sir!" she cried, barely out of breath as she stumbled to a halt in front of them, ignoring Harry. He looked at Ric. Gryffindor?

"Yes love?" he said pragmatically.

"Mis'er Cassius," she said, her accent a strong, lilting American one, but Harry wasn't sure which region. "He say he need help Sir, he say they be Fixer folk and he need magics Sir."

Ric, or Gryffindor as the messenger had called him, didn't even pause, he just twisted on the spot and apparated away. Harry and the girl blinked at the spot where he'd been standing.

"Hey," said Harry as she turned to leave. "You wouldn't happen to know where the big red top tent is?"

The girl broke into a smile that illuminated her dark skin. "Why yessir," she said with a little bow. "Why if the Mas'er can keep up, I'sa show him myself."

Harry smiled back, despite the chaos that was raining down around him. "I can keep up," he said.

xxx

Sarah stared listlessly at her Snickers bar. It was very unusual that she found chocolate couldn't fix her mood, but obviously she'd not experienced a zombie apocalypse on top of the imminent end of all creation before. Perhaps she needed some Ferrero Rocher to tackle that one.

She was sat on the floor of the corner shop Hermione had steered them into, a zombie woman banging on the door they'd trapped her behind and a picnic of chocolate, sweets, crisps and fizzy drinks littering the floor around them. Hermione had protested at stealing; Terry had patiently explained that jelly babies were essentially going to be the saviour of the universe. Once they were in his belly.

"So..." said Terry, a Hula Hoop on each finger. He studied his work, then crunched off the one on his thumb. "All the realities ever created are going to unravel, unless Ziggy and Malfoy can stop the You-Know-Whos from our two worlds...in Limbo?"

Sarah shrugged, gave up on her chocolate bar and swigged some lemonade. "I know it's nuts," she said. "But after everything else, it doesn't seem like it's that impossible."

Hermione was rubbing her head, and she let out a little groan. They were all still fairly damp and uncomfortable after getting drenched outside. Hermione had tried to instruct her and Terry on the correct spell to siphon off the water, but Terry had only been able to partially do it, much to her annoyance. Sarah felt sorry Hermione had lost her wand, but even more guilty she was so useless with her own. What kind of a witch was she if she couldn't even perform basic magic?

She felt a flash of anger towards her parents for not making her study harder, and the school for closing in the first place, then felt terribly ashamed of herself for being so selfish. She would be lucky if her parents got out of this alive, so what is she was struggling with a couple of charms?

"Okay," said Hermione, raising her face and dropping her hands. She looked extraordinarily pale, even in the minimal light they were sitting in. "No, I get that, I get why the You-Know-Whos could travel to Limbo and to a certain extent what power Harry and Draco hold over them. I get the Watcher and what Limbo is, and that if it's drawn into chaos by the two You-Know-Whos everything will unravel. I even get the Horcrux stuff, it makes sense, but here's what I need to know." She inhaled slowly. "A Horcrux came with me, yes?"

Sarah nodded. "Alex said it would attach itself to an object you were near."

"Right," agreed Hermione. "But, what do we do with it? Do I take it back with me, do I hand it over to your Ministry?"

Sarah swirled the last of her drink around in its can. "No idea," she admitted. "Alex didn't explain about that, there was so much else going on, but I guess destroying it couldn't hurt."

"If we ever work out what object it went into," snorted Terry. "You were in the Library, it could have latched onto a hundred things."

Hermione gave a sad smile. "Okay," she said. "We'll deal with that later then, once we've got past our most pressing concern."

"Which would be that my home town's been zombified and no one can get out," said Sarah bitterly.

"Point to the pretty lady with the nose stud," said Terry, but Sarah scowled at him. She wasn't really in the mood for joking. The curse might only be temporary, but until the spell was broken her whole family would remain monsters, and the thought curdled in her stomach. Who would do this, and why?

She ran her tongue bar across her teeth. "Do we think they're linked?"

"What?" asked Terry.

Sarah drained her can and placed it by her thigh. "This," she said, looking around. "The curse on the town, and the whole Limbo, reality crossing situation."

"Yes," said Hermione darkly. "I'm certain of it, from everything we've seen and that Harry and Draco have described, all these crazy coincidences are linked." She began pulling at the laces on Terry's trainers. "It's like someone's got an inter-dimensional weather vane."

Terry shook his head. "How would making a little town into a horror movie help – I don't know, say – You-Know-Who take over Limbo?"

Hermione shrugged, taking off the shoe and starting on the next one. "Absolutely no clue," she admitted. "I'm just saying there probably is some sort of crazy link. If we could work it out, it would go a long way to helping us."

Terry scowled. "There must be some way to get help, something we haven't thought of."

"And sometimes," said Hermione, scooping up the trainers and plonking them in front of Terry. "You just have to deal with things yourself."

"Oh no," said Terry. "Those were a gift, for your poor bleeding feet, remember?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "What about your poor, bleeding feet?"

"Me man," said Terry in a mock growl. "Me no need shoes."

"Er," said Sarah, all of her muscles suddenly tensing. "Whoever's going to put them on, should do it now." They turned to look where she was looking.

A zombie policeman was walking repeatedly into the front door, and he was earning more attention from his fellows.

"Time to leave!" cried Terry, launching to his feet and heading to the door where they'd trapped the woman zombie. Hermione seemed like she was going to shout at him, changed her mind and snatched up the trainers. Sarah glanced at the shop front as they rushed to the back, watching as several more zombies began pawing at the glass. It could only be a matter of time before the windows broke.

"They don't want to eat us do they?" she asked as Hermione grabbed her mop again.

"Of course not," she said.

"Then why are they after us at all?" Sarah countered.

Hermione looked frustrated as she shoved her feet back into Terry's trainers. "Because they want to add us to their hive mind, it's their only instinct – Terry, get the door."

Terry nodded at her, then yanked the handle, swinging the door open.

The Indian woman was looking forlorn on the other side, her white eyes half closed and her arms by her side. But as soon as she caught sight of them she moaned loudly and shuffled towards them, hands groping like flailing fish out of water.

"Come on," coaxed Hermione like she might a child. "Come over here nice zombie lady." She brandished the mop as the woman stumbled out of the corridor and into the shop. Sarah jumped at the sound of breaking glass and whipped around to see the door was giving way.

"Hurry," she breathed.

"GO!" cried Hermione, as the Indian woman stepped out through the door and Hermione slammed the wet end of the mop onto her chest, forcing her to tumble backwards towards the cans of dog food and cat treats.

Sarah and Terry bolted towards the corridor as the zombies at the front shoved their way noisily through the windows and door. Hermione discarded her impromptu weapon and joined them, slamming the door in her wake. Terry began firing locking and protection spells on it without her even prompting. Sarah was quite proud to add her own little "Duro" charm to harden up the wood, and it seemed to work just fine.

"Let's go," said Terry once he was done. Sarah was hot on his heels, but Hermione leant over to inspect their work.

"No time!" cried Sarah, grabbing her arm. Hermione scoffed in disapproval, but she let herself be dragged up to a door that, judging from the water trickling through the seams, led outside again. "Oh great," grumbled Sarah.

Terry didn't pause though, he just seized the handle and flung the door outwards into the pouring rain. "Where to!" he hissed, diving out into the deluge, and Sarah realised with dismay he was talking to her. Just because it was her home town did not mean she had any idea which direction they should head, they had no plan to speak of.

"I don't know," she said defensively as they ploughed out into the sodden evening. "Maybe we should find more cover, then decide what to do?"

"So lead us to more cover!" cried Terry. They were sprinting down a back alleyway, and Sarah wasn't sure of her bearings. She almost didn't see an abandoned bike lying across the path until it was too late, but she managed to soar over it with only a small flail of her arms. She chose to ignore Terry until she knew where they actually were, so darted ahead of him in order to reach the alley's end first.

She slowed as she reached the opening onto the larger street, putting her hands out to steady herself on the brickwork and wooden fence on either side of the little path. Trees hung over from the garden behind the fence, blocking out the last of the twilight. Sarah's heart thumped as she edged forward, peering around the corner to see where they were and if they had any company.

Sadly, she was not that surprised to see several cursed people shambling around the little cul-de-sac they were on the verge of entering, but thankfully she also recognised the area and knew there was another alleyway on the other side of the street that could lead them to relative safety.

"We need," she hissed. "To get across."

"Okay," said Terry, exasperated. "Then go!"

Sarah found her grip tightening on the fence and brick work. "They'll see us," she breathed, ashamed of her own cowardliness. It wasn't that she was frightened of the cursed people themselves, she reasoned with herself. It was what they represented. If they got anywhere near them, they would suck out everything that made them who they were, everything that was motivating them towards an outside world that could get help, restore everyone to their plodding, magic-free, mundane lives.

"What are you waiting for?" rasped Terry, checking over his shoulder.

Sarah shrugged. "Shouldn't we distract them," she said anxiously. "Throw a stone at least?"

"Oh," said Terry. "Right." He stooped over in the rain and padded around as Sarah watched. After a moment or two he stood up straight with a buckled fizzy drinks can, squinted though the deluge, and pitched it with all the muscle he had.

It soared through the air and bounced into someone's front garden. Sarah felt bad as the cursed folk began shambling clumsily towards it, trampling over flower beds and knocking over bird baths and plastic gnomes. She hoped the homeowners would forgive them for wrecking their landscaping once they'd made them real people again.

"Where are we headed?" asked Hermione, shivering violently in the cold rain. Sarah pointed over to where she could just make the alleyway on the other side of the road. Once the zombies had shuffled a safe distance over to the can, Sarah held a finger up to her lips, and slipped out into the rain.

The three of them darted over the road, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. If any of the zombies spotted them, Sarah didn't know about it. She just sprinted down the alley, her eyes on the exit thirty feet away.

A form suddenly swung from between the fence panels, and Sarah couldn't help but scream. A girl, only a few years younger than her, staggered out from a door set in the panelling. She was dressed in pyjamas covered with cartoon cupcakes and had her hair in braids. Her bare feet scraped on the concrete floor as the door from what was probably her garden banged all the way back, making even more noise.

Sarah spun around as they moved away in horror, but she could already see that some of the zombies from the cul-de-sac had followed them.

"We're trapped," cried Hermione.

"No we're not," countered Terry resolutely. "Quick, over the fence again." He stooped with his hands cupped, and Sarah wasted no time jumping onto them to scale the fence. As soon as she was high enough to see over though, she quickly crumpled her body to stop Terry from shoving her over the top. There were three zombies waiting on the other side, arms outstretched, heads lolling in excitement. "Not that way, not that way!" she shrieked

They half fell to the ground and Hermione tried to help them scramble up, hauling them to the opposite side of the pathway.

"Try this side!" she cried, her terrified eyes trained on the little girl. Every step they took away from her though took them closer to the approaching group from the cul-de-sac. "Hurry!"

Sarah once again shoved her foot into Terry's hands and she reached for the top of the fence, pulling herself up. A quick scan of this garden proved it to be zombie free, so she allowed herself to carry on up and over, landing on the muddy grass.

"Ow!" she cried as her ankle rolled, and a sharp pain shot up her shin. She fell into a seated position, and cradled her foot in horror; she couldn't have twisted it, could she?

Hermione half climbed, half fell next to her. "Look out!" cried Terry in her wake. Hermione scrambled up out of the way, but all Sarah could do was shuffle to the side. Terry came soaring over, landing enviously on his feet.

"Come on," he hissed at the girls, but Sarah just looked piteously at him through the rain.

"I think I've sprained my ankle," she moaned as the fence began to shake and the zombies wailed on the other side.

Terry didn't even pause. He shoved his wand into Hermione's hand, then scooped Sarah off the ground, cradling her in his arms. She tried to protest that she must be heavy, but Terry just started running towards the house at the end of the garden. They weaved between patio furniture and Hermione fired an "Alohomora" at the French doors, sliding them open with such force they rocked a little on their rails.

Terry ran inside and Hermione followed, closing the door behind them. They were in a living room with a swirling, garish carpet and a set of brown leather sofa and armchairs. It was in one of these that Sarah was dropped, and she slipped unceremoniously on the upholstery. "Let me see," said Terry, pulling at her boot.

"Ow!" she yelped, snatching her tender foot away from him. "I'll take it off." Terry rolled his eyes.

"Fine, Hermione you check for zombies."

Hermione swiped tendrils of dripping hair way from her face and placed her hands on her hips. "You're first aid trained, are you?"

Terry shrugged. "I'll just 'Episky' it, give me my wand back."

Hermione scoffed as Sarah managed to pry her boot off. "That spell is used for cuts, how about you go check for zombies, and I'll look at the injury, hmm?"

Terry showed no other reaction than to raise an eyebrow. Then he got to his feet, and walked out of the room, his eyes on Hermione the whole way.

"Well," she said, flustered. "Okay, so um, fine. Take your sock off please."

It was a very unpleasant sensation, peeling off the sodden sock from her throbbing foot, but eventually Sarah managed it. "Is it bad?" she asked in trepidation. Hermione didn't answer, she just began gently moving Sarah's foot about.

"Does this hurt?" she asked, pulling it to the left, then the right. Sarah shook her head, and concentrated on the room they were in, rather than watching Hermione work. Every possible surface was covered in novelty mugs of all shapes and sizes. Sarah focused on a nearby one that looked like a frog.

"Press against my hand," said Hermione, and Sarah did as instructed, letting out a little gasp of pain. "Scale of one to ten?" asked Hermione. "Ten being the worst."

Sarah swallowed. "Uh, two?"

Hermione didn't look up. "And now honestly?"

Sarah screwed up her face. "Five."

Hermione nodded. She pulled and pushed it a few more ways, and Sarah told her the pain was two or three. "Mild sprain," said Hermione as Terry re-entered the room.

"Zombie free," he announced proudly. Hermione ignored him and fired a spell at Sarah's foot instead. It instantly felt better.

"Oh," she sighed. "Thanks, that's great."

Hermione didn't look satisfied. "You really need some ointment, that's just a basic anti-inflammatory, but it's better than nothing. Can you put weight on it?"

Slowly, Sarah shifted off the armchair and stood on her good leg. She carefully placed the bad one down, leaning her weight ever so slightly. "It's okay," she said truthfully. "Not great, but I think I can walk."

"Hmm," said Terry, scrutinizing her bare foot. "You might need to do more than walk. Why'd you fall on it?"

"To make your life more difficult!" flared Sarah in irritation, dropping back into the seat and picking up her squidgy sock. "It was an accident okay, I'm normally very spry when I'm not running from zombies!"

"Alright, alright," said Terry throwing up his hands. "Just kidding, okay?" Sarah didn't answer him, and instead pulled all the laces loose on her boot to try and coax her foot back in. It was tender but she managed to make it fit.

"Here," said Hermione ruefully, holding out Terry's wand for him. "You might as well have this back, I can't do much with it."

"Gee, thanks," said Terry, plucking it from her fingers.

"Should Terry try the spell on my foot then?" asked Sarah, pausing between tightening laces.

"What you done?"

Sarah launched to her feet, wincing from jolt of pain that came from the damaged left one. Terry and Hermione spun on their heels. A man was standing in the doorway, a golf club raised in front of him. He wasn't cursed, but he didn't exactly look happy either. He was balding with a round tummy and glasses. He wore shorts, socks and sandals, despite the time of year, and his skin looked blotchy and pale. Eyes like a wild rabbit's flicked between the three teenagers.

"Oh I'm so sorry," breathed Hermione in a mixture of anxious relief. "We thought the place was empty." She threw a look at Terry, who was frowning at the man.

"Hiding," rasped the man, his golf club still aloft.

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "That's a good idea," she said. "It's not safe out there right now."

The man's face crumpled. "What'd you do?" he asked, and something cold ran though Sarah's guts.

"What?" she said. "No, no, we didn't make the zombies."

"Don't SAY that!" cried the man, edging forwards and shaking his club. Sarah didn't take her eyes off him. "They ain't right, they're sick – put 'em back!"

Hermione was looking quite concerned now. "Sir," she said placatingly. "We did not hurt these people, do you understand?"

"I saw you," he retaliated. "Saw what you did with that...that thing!" He jerked his head at the wand now in Terry's hand. "Why would you do this?"

Sarah swallowed. They'd done magic in front of a Muggle. Admittedly the whole town was cursed, but this didn't seem like the kind of Muggle that would react well, judging by his current misuse of his sports equipment. "She was just mending my foot," she said delicately. "We're trying to help everyone."

"You're witches!" spat the man. "Devil children! I know, I can see, I ain't stupid."

"Really?" said Terry with a raised eyebrow. "There are monsters running around and you're threatening the people trying to change them all back."

"It was YOU who made them like that in the first place!" the man shouted, his glasses slipping down his sweaty nose.

"And just what is your logic for that!" snapped Hermione. She looked the colour of old porridge and her eyes were bloodshot, but her indignation was strong.

"I saw you!" he cried again.

"So what are you going to do about it?" challenged Sarah. "Huh? Hit a couple of kids with a golf club – what kind of a man are you!"

The man tightened his grip, his eyes still shifting about. "Please," he said. "Please make 'em right again."

Terry growled in exasperation. "That's what we were trying to do," he cried. "So just let us past and go back to cowering in the bath tub or wherever you were."

"No!" yelped the man, his club wavering. "Someone's gotta make you do it, do what's right! I ain't leaving you until you fix 'em, right now!"

Sarah would have stomped her foot if they had both been fully functional. "We can't do it here, you're just wasting time!"

"You can," he argued. "I saw you pull my door open, and mend her foot!"

"Okay," said Terry. "Bored now." He flicked his wand at the man. "Confundo!"

The man swayed on the spot as the spell hit him. He blinked a couple of times, then dropped the golf club. "Huh?" he said, swaying again.

"Well," said Terry brightly. "It was lovely to meet you, but we have to be going now, don't we girls?"

Sarah was stunned, but after a second she managed to nod. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah that's right. You um, you go back and hide."

The man blinked. "Okay," he said, a little smile on his face.

"You just cursed a Muggle," said Hermione, horrified, as the man trundled off back up his stairs.

"Compared to the carnage that's hit the rest of the town," said Terry grimly. "I'm sure the Ministry won't mind."

Sarah heard a soft thumping noise, and turned back to the French door. She couldn't help but let out a little squeak when she realised there were three zombies outside, standing pathetically in the rain, pressing their palms against the glass.

"Let's just go," she moaned as a forth zombie stumbled to join them. Terry and Hermione didn't need convincing. They raced from the living room towards the front door and once more into the downpour.

"Which way?" asked Terry, slamming the door behind them.

Sarah looked up and down, she knew where they were and pointed right. "That way's the town centre," she said. "That would probably be a good place to look for some answers."

"Okay," said Hermione. "It's as good a plan as any. How's your foot, can you walk?" Sarah nodded, fairly confident she could, so they set off.

She had to limp a little, but Sarah was relieved to find she could at least keep moving on her own two feet. The street was narrow and lined with cute bungalows that had neat flower beds and name plaques like 'Journey's End'. They came to the end of the row and scrambled down a little hill onto a main road. Several zombies were scattered along the tarmac, wandering along in the rain, wailing every now and again.

"Stick to the embankment," said Terry. "Go fast."

Sarah went as fast as she could, but it wasn't long before some of the cursed people were spotting them and turning around to fumble their way. "Not fast enough," grunted Terry, and scooped up Sarah from behind.

"Put me down!" she hissed indignantly, but Terry didn't listen.

They reached the end of the curving road and were spat out into the town centre; a big round courtyard with a couple of dozen shops and cafes, and the war memorial in the centre. "Oh we were here before!" exclaimed Hermione.

The place was crawling with zombies, and it wouldn't be long before they spotted the trio. It was a good job night was setting and the rain was hard enough to camouflage them. "Quick," said Sarah, pointing to the nearest building. "Into the pub, it's always open."

Terry darted over, shrugging Sarah up in his arms to readjust her weight, but Hermione got their first and heaved the big door open. "Wait!" she hissed, grabbing Terry's wand again, and nipping inside the dark room. Terry gritted his teeth but did as he was bid, swinging around so he and Sarah could keep an eye on the zombies. They were able to tuck themselves into a little alcove that took them out of the rain and hopefully out of sight of any unfriendly townsfolk.

"She needs her own wand back," muttered Terry.

Sarah wriggled and he let her stand on her own. "What happened to hers?" she asked.

Terry shook his head and pulled a face. "Buried under some debris from your house probably."

Sarah gripped her own wand, guiltily. She knew she couldn't do all that much with it, but she imagined how it would feel to not even have it at all, and she was the one that had caused the explosion.

"Sorry," she said out loud, even though Hermione wasn't there.

Terry shifted her weight in his arms. "How did you do that?" he asked. "That was a Hell of an explosion, what spell did you use?"

Sarah had been wondering that herself. "Only a Reductor Curse," she told him. "But I think I was so scared, it might have been more raw magic than controlled."

"All clear," said Hermione, her face popping fleetingly back outside.

"Are you sure?" griped Terry, obviously still sore about missing the man with the golf club, but he darted inside anyway, Sarah right behind.

The room was dark and quiet as the door swung shut. Sarah could just about make out chairs and tables made of dark wood and a slightly sticky carpet with a bold swirling pattern woven in. A juke box stood dead in the corner, and everything was permeated with the stale whiff of cigarettes and beer.

"People actually like coming to these places?" said Sarah out loud but mostly to herself. Terry clicked his fingers and Hermione, rolling her eyes, gave his wand back. Despite knowing that she had already checked the place out, both Sarah and Terry began inspecting every nook and cranny they could find.

Sarah crept up to a large window, radiating cold. "Did any of them see us?" whispered Hermione as she approached the glass. Sarah peered out though the gloomy rain, water dripping off her clothes as she leant over the chair in front of the window.

She shook her head. "Don't think so," she whispered back. She was about to turn away when a strange light caught her eye. She almost dismissed it as one of the zombies letting off blue electricity, until she realised the light had been yellow, and her insides flipped over. "Guys," she rasped, not taking her eyes away from the outside world but darting to the side of the window frame. "Guys, come here." She reached her hand back and beckoned them as she squinted out across the square. All she could see were blurry shapes.

"What?" whispered Terry, padding back over, his wet socks squelching on the carpet.

Sarah shook her head and placed her face up to the glass. "I thought I saw..."

But the words dried up. A bright, clear light shone out through the dank evening, making Terry and Hermione duck down the floor. Sarah had been ready for it though, and barely flinched, determined to see what was going on. Someone was outside with a wand, and they'd merely cast a 'Lumos' spell. The zombies were converging on the figure, but something was holding them at bay, like a force field.

"Who's out there?" hissed Hermione.

Sarah tried to squint harder, but recoiled in surprise when a second wand lit up, illuminating another person amongst the zombie folk. Between both the light sources she was able to see the two un-cursed people quite clearly.

"Death Eaters," she said flatly. "They're Death Eaters."

xxx

"Chris?"

Ron looked up at A.J. standing motionless in the underground corridor. The air seemed to be burning his lungs as he gripped onto the wall behind him, his vision tilting as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

"No," rasped Abbey, sinking to the floor, shaking hands covering her mouth. "No, no."

"CHRIS!" A.J. vaulted to his friend, lying prone on the floor, and seized his shoulders. "Buddy, come on, wake up!" He felt under his chin. "He's got no pulse! Help him!" He barley even looked at Ron and Abbey before pouncing on his friend's chest and pumping with both hands.

"Darlin'," said Abbey, her voice strained. "Darlin' it's no use." She was shivering from head to toe, her eyes glassy and fixed on A.J.

"He needs help!" screamed A.J., blowing into Chris' mouth. "What did she do to him, what's happening!"

"Avada Kedavra," whispered Ron, the killing curse having no effect from his listless lips. "He's gone."

A.J. didn't reply, he just kept thumping on Chris' chest, trying to get him to breath. "C'mon dude," he said. "C'mon it's not real, just a bit of light, it can't hurt you."

A sob cracked through the air, and A.J.'s head snapped over to see Abbey dissolving. Her arms were wrapped around her like it was the only thing holding her together, her knees pulled to her chest as she gasped for air. "I'm sorry," she cried pitifully. "I'm so sorry."

Ron couldn't bear it, his heart seemed to be made of cold lead, his skin nothing but shivers and goose bumps.

This was his fault.

"No!" yelled A.J., becoming angry. "No you get over here and you FIX HIM!"

Abbey let out another painful cry, digging her fingers into her clothes. A.J. stopped his compressions and instead hauled Chris' body onto his knees, propping his head up in his hands.

Ron swallowed. "It's my fault," he said, the lump in his throat making it almost impossible to talk. "You didn't want to come, I shouldn't have let you, you should have stayed at home."

An icy tear slide down his cheek, but Abbey pushed herself up again and wiped her face with her fingers. "It wasn't you," she said through clenched teeth, fury overriding her features. "It were that woman."

"No," said A.J. again, shaking his head violently. "No, no he's not, he can't be..." He began patting Chris all over, tapping his arms, chest, face with his hands. "Chris, Chris, no Chris please."

Perhaps it was the look on Ron and Abbey's faces, their quiet despair, their reluctance to even try and help because they knew there was literally nothing they could do. Whatever it was, A.J. finally seemed to realise the true extent of the situation, and broke.

His face crumpled, his chest shaking as he folded down, covering Chris' lifeless body with his own, rocking back and forth as he cried. "Bring him back!" he whispered into their clothes. "Use your magic!"

"There's nothing can be done baby," said Abbey, trembling. "That's the worst anyone can do."

"She's crazy," breathed Ron. He could feel his eyes wide with fear and remorse. "She's with You-Know-Who's inner circle, she wants the stone-"

"He's dead," interrupted A.J. savagely, his head snapping up and his mouth snarling. "It doesn't matter, he won't care, you dragged us into this mess and now he's DEAD!" He suddenly released Chris and lurched for Ron, bowling them both to the floor.

"Stop it!" shrieked Abbey, but A.J. landed a solid punch on Ron's jaw, pain exploding through his head and blood blossoming in his mouth.

"He was my best friend!" howled A.J., hitting Ron again and again. "He trusted you and you lead us here, to this nightmare!"

"Y'all quit it!" yelled Abbey, seizing hold of A.J.'s shoulders and manhandling him off of Ron. A.J. stumbled and stared at both of them. Abbey raised her hands slowly. "No one's sayin' this ain't plain awful, but Ron didn't do it, I won't have you beatin' on him."

"He isn't Ron!" roared A.J., thrusting his finger at Ron's face. "He's just wearing his skin! You've ruined everything, why did you have to come here!" His knees gave way, and he crashed to the floor, groping at Chris' clothes.

Ron was crushed by just how right he was. He hadn't meant to come here though, they'd been trying to send Malfoy and Sarah back to where they belonged. He shouldn't have kicked up such a fuss, he should have just listened to his American mother and stayed at home. He was selfish and useless and he'd gotten an innocent boy killed.

A.J. was shivering, his palms placed on Chris' chest. He stared unblinking at his friend's lifeless face, his breathing slow and heavy. "It was just light," he said, his voice still shaking. "Just…green light. How can it, he can't be…"

He trailed off, his fingers wrapped around the fabric of Chris' East County High t-shirt, staring at his closed eyes.

Ron looked at Abbey, who bit her lip. Neither of them said anything for a while, and Ron just leant against the rough rock face, letting the jagged edges dig into his palms. He wanted the pain, he wanted to punish himself. Why couldn't he have just been strong, like Harry? Why had he let Chris tag along, why hadn't he listened to A.J and insisted they stayed at home? They had no business being here, they couldn't defend themselves and now Bellatrix Lestrange was after them.

He guessed she was after the Philosopher's Stone, if he was right and that's what these obstacles were guarding, like at their own school. Heck, he could be completely wrong. Harry had had to deal with something similar getting to You-Know-Who's lair in that other reality, he'd even met Fluffy too. Maybe the Dark Lord was fooling them all and hiding under the school and Bellatrix was just trying to get back to him?

Ron shuddered. Whatever the reason, he thought morosely, it didn't really matter. If they were in Bellatrix's way, it didn't matter why. It would end just as badly.

It had already ended badly. Ron couldn't blame A.J. for refusing to believe Chris was gone, it had happened so fast. Why couldn't he have closed the door quicker? Why couldn't Christ have stood a foot to the left?

He scraped his hands on the wall, and pain spiked through his nerves as he drew blood. Good, he deserved it. If he had only…

There were too many 'if onlys'. He felt overwhelmed by them. He wiped his hands on his jeans and hugged himself as he tried to breath. Chris, poor Chris. He'd believed him, he'd been so enthralled by the magic, and it had killed him. Ron swallowed the sick that threatened to creep up his throat. His head was pounding so he rubbed his fingers on his temples, hoping he wasn't smearing blood on his face. "I'm sorry," he said to no one in particular.

A.J. sat for a little longer, a fresh wave of grief sweeping over him once or twice as he screwed up his face, tears leaking through the painful grimace as he struggling for breath. But the longer they sat, the calmer he managed to become. After a time, Ron wasn't sure how long, Abbey shifted to sit beside A.J. and rubbed his back.

A.J. blew out a shaky breath and wiped his face with the back of his shirt. "It's not fair," his said, his voice small.

"I know," Abbey said, and moved to wrap her arms around his shoulders. "I know sugar."

A noise suddenly drew Ron's attention to the door behind him, that lead to the room with the flying keys. The wall in the other room had collapsed behind them, but now he could hear scraping and banging.

"She's coming," he gasped. "Guys, she's coming, we have to go, now!" He was almost ashamed for the fear that spike through him, but then he remembered all the terrible stories he'd heard about Bellatrix Lestrange.

"But Chris!" cried Abbey, horrified.

Ron clamped his jaw together and looked down at the blond boy lying peacefully on the ground. "We could take him with us?"

"No," said A.J. to his surprise. The other boy gave his friend's t-shirt one last squeeze, then laid his hand flat on Chris' unmoving chest. "We can't help him now, right?"

Abbey shook her head sadly. "There's no spell in whole world," she said sadly.

A.J. nodded. "Then we have to let him go." His voice slipped, but he blinked and held onto his resolve. "Or that woman will kill us all."

Ron was taken aback by his practical response, but he was right. Bellatrix would certainly kill them all without even pause for thought.

"We can't leave Chris' body though," argued Abbey. "It ain't right – if only she didn't take my wand, we could camouflage him till we get back."

A.J. swallowed and searched the ground they were standing on. "Here," he said, picking up a stubby black wand. "Take this one, and let's go." He turned on his heel and began walking up the stone corridor, his shoulders set, his hands clenched.

Ron didn't waste any time, he heaved Chris' dead weight into a sitting position and propped him up against the wall. "Concealious," he said, and with a little ripple Chris became a pile of rocks. They all looked like they were the exact same rock duplicated over and over again, but Ron reckoned it would do the job well enough. He ran over to the trembling door and pulled the winged key out. He wasn't sure why, but he felt it would be better than leaving it for Bellatrix to find.

"Come on," he said, and he and Abbey set of after A.J.

"Doubt I'll be able to get a teacup to dance with this here thing," said Abbey ruefully, gripping onto Bellatrix's wand. "What in tarnation is goin' on here? How can this all be happenin' so fast? You show up, Rodriguez, the traps, her?"

Ron shook his head. "Don't ask me," he said. "This is all horribly wrong."

"Poor Chris," said Abbey, her voice small.

They reached A.J., who had stopped in front of a door. Probably because in front of that door, stood a goblin. A.J. looked incredibly weary, like the goblin was a dangerous wild animal that might pounce on him and rip his throat out. Ron became apprehensive for an entirely different reason; they needed to get some kind of barrier between them and Bellatrix as soon as possible, and goblins were notorious for making things unnecessarily complicated.

"It said it's a goblin," said A.J. tersely. If Ron had just watched Harry die, he doubted he would have been able to stand up ever again, let alone think straight or deal with a goblin, but A.J. was managing it. He seemed shut down, closed off, but he was functioning. Even the thought of Harry dying make him shiver.

"Not it," drawled the goblin. "He." Ron found it very strange to here a goblin talk with an American accent; he wondered if his royal blue tunic was a uniform from an American bank. It certainly wasn't Gringotts. "Fiddlewink, at your service."

"Okay then Fiddlewink," said Abbey with a nod. "We need to get through your door here lickety split, how do we do that, and how do we do it fast?"

"I require an offering," said Fiddlewink simply.

"An offering?" asked Ron. He ran his hand through his hair, un-sticking it from his scalp. "What kind of offering?"

The goblin smiled. "You have three tries to give me an offering that will suffice. You cannot take back what you offer, but only if you present me with something suitable will the door open."

"Oh man!" cried Abbey, flinging her hands out in frustration. "God damn goblins! Always wantin' somethin'."

"No," said Ron. "No wait, this is good. If we can just get through the door we'll lose Bellatrix." He turned to the goblin. "Can you give us any clues as to what you might want?"

The goblin raised his hand in front of his face, extended a long green finger, and wagged it back and forth with a tut.

"Okay...well, goblins like treasure," said Ron, thinking aloud. "Anyone got any cash?"

Abbey looked at him incredulously, then waved her hands up and down her cheerleading uniform. "No," she said pointedly. "No pockets."

"Point taken." He pulled out the contents of his own pockets. "Okay, so I've got...some kind of money," he said confused, looking at the strange currency he now found in his hand. Whatever it was it wasn't much. "A green smartie, two bottle tops and some owl pellets – food, not the other kind," he added hastily.

"I've got my pager," put forward A.J. His face was effectively blank, and his voice wasn't much better. He pulled out a little rectangular box from his pocket; Ron didn't know what it was but he decided not to ask. "It's brand new, pretty expensive."

"Thanks A.J." said Abbey, taking it from him. "That might do it, they like pricey things." She smiled at him and he nodded back at her. She turned and held it down to the goblin. He held out his hand for her to place the pager in, and once she let go he took it behind his back without even pausing to look at it. The door remained closed.

"I take it that didn't work," stated Ron. The goblin just inclined his head and kept on smiling. "Okay, what else?" He looked warily back down the corridor; how much time did they have left?

"I've only got a few bucks," said A.J. inspecting his pockets. "My house keys, a guitar pick-"

His voice caught at this, Ron didn't want to know why but he could guess.

"Maybe it's a different kind of offering," said Abbey, wearily eyeing the goblin. "Like...something you have to physically do."

"Oh!" said Ron turning to face them. "Hermione told me last week she and Malfoy – Draco – whatever, they had to give something to a painting so it would open up and let them into a secret passageway."

"Well what was it?" asked Abbey.

"It was um, well it was blood," said Ron reluctantly. Having been excited about remembering this information he now wasn't so sure he wanted to cut his hand open or anything.

"Oh well that's easy," said Abbey happily, and once again turned to face the goblin. She lifted up her left knee, the one that got scraped the worst when she'd fallen to the floor before, and held it in front of his face. "That enough blood?"

Fiddlewink raised his hand and wiped it across her knee, making her wince and suck in a breath through her teeth. Just as before he then put his hand back behind his back, almost without reaction, and the door did not open. "Aw Hell," said Abbey, putting her leg down again. "I thought for sure that'd work. What else does he want?" she exclaimed, her hands in the air. "He's had something expensive, something painful..."

"I don't think Dumbledore or Crabtree would want us to, like, kill ourselves or anything," Ron ventured. "But maybe it needs to be something a bit more personal – I mean, those two things were hardly a wrench to give away." The other two nodded which made him relieved, he wasn't sure really if what he'd said made sense. "Maybe it has to be something we'd miss?"

A.J. closed his hand around the guitar pick, his eyes glassing up again. "Here," he said thickly, reaching out his closed hand. "You – you can have this."

Fiddlewink raised an eyebrow. "You have already given an offering," he told A.J. coldly.

"What!" cried Abbey, stamping her foot. "You never said nothin' about only givin' one thing each!"

"Yeah," chipped in Ron as A.J. retracted Chris' guitar pick. "You didn't tell us that was a rule!"

"I am telling you now," the goblin informed him with half a grin. Abigail huffed, then she and A.J. turned to look at Ron.

"I guess it's down to you then darlin'," said Abbey, raising her eyebrow. Ron swallowed and rubbed his hands together. His mind was totally blank – what else could they possibly give him? He didn't have anything on him that would be a true sacrifice to give, he would have to try a different tactic.

He looked fretfully down the corridor. "I don't know," he said, in a small voice.

"There's gotta be something," insisted A.J. "You said these guys like money and treasure and stuff – are any of your clothes expensive?"

"How the bloody Hell should I know!" snapped Ron looking down at the shorts he was barely keeping on his hips, the t-shirt missing its sleeves and the chequered flannel shirt. "I didn't dress myself this morning, these aren't my clothes – do any of them look posh to you?" he asked, holding out his arms, and turning round for the Americans to see.

"No," they both said in unison. He harrumphed and crossed his arms. Typical.

"Hang on," he said as something slowly dawned on him. "Hang on a minute. We know Goblins love treasure and stuff, yeah?" Abbey nodded. A.J. just raised his eyebrows. "So you'd think that's what you needed to give him to get past. But...but what if that was like a – a red herring or something? Too obvious? What if he wants something that's not physical or worth anything?"

"Like what?" asked Abbey.

"Dunno," he admitted, he hadn't thought that far ahead. "But we sang Fluffy a song." He stopped himself. Chris had sung Fluffy a song.

"I don't think I could sing anything well enough to qualify as a present," said Abbey quietly. A.J. shook his head.

"How about a story," he suggested after a minute's thought, rubbing the guitar pick between his fingers. "Or a joke?"

"I know a joke!" Ron jumped in, excitedly. It was the only one he could ever remember, Fred and George had taught it to him, but he thought it was really funny. "Do you think a joke might work?"

There was a loud cracking noise from behind them, and all three heads turned in panic.

"Try it," instructed Abbey. "Just do it, we are outta time."

Ron spun around to the goblin. "So, um, so this guy goes into his doctor and tells him 'Doctor! I've think I've been bitten by a vampire' and the doctor says 'Okay, drink this glass of water.' The guy asks 'Will it make me better?' and the doctor says 'No, I but I'll be able to see if your neck leaks'."

He watched Fiddlewink, not daring to even breathe. The other two were frozen by his side. Slowly, the corner of the creature's mouth twitched.

"Hmm," he rumbled low in his throat. "Hm hm hm." His smile became wider, but Ron couldn't tell if his joke was funny, or it was their impending deaths at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange making him laugh.

There was a creek.

Ron snapped his head to look at the dark wooden door as it juddered, scraped, then heavily swung away from them. Beyond was totally pitch black, but Ron didn't care. "Yes!" he cried, punching the air.

"You did it!" yelled Abbey, slapping his back.

"Move," said A.J. "Now."

The three of them ran without hesitation past the goblin and into the next room; whatever was laying in wait for them in the dark was undoubtedly preferable to Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Watch yourself if she gets through," Ron called to Fiddlewink over his shoulder. "She's a nasty piece of work."

"She can only enter," he replied completely at ease. "If she presents a satisfactory offering."

Ron was worried for his safety, but he guessed the goblin could fend for himself. The three of them stepped carefully over the door's threshold, trying to see where they were going, but even with Abbey lighting Bellatrix's borrowed wand it wasn't much use. The door groaned slowly shut again, and for a second they were plunged into almost total darkness.

"Lumos," whispered Ron, but the light from Bill's wand added little to the gloom. Now neither of them had their own wands, it made him quail just thinking how they could hope to defend themselves against Bellatrix if she got through.

"What's that noise?" breathed A.J. The trio stood very still, ears pricked. There was a sort of whooshing sound up ahead, several in fact. Ron wondered if it was wings beating – large wings – and he gripped onto his borrowed wand. But then there was another sort of squealing, scratching sound above their heads he really couldn't place.

"Everyone stay together," he muttered, reaching out in the dark to find the other two. He strained his eyes as they flicked in every direction, acutely aware of any movement. His ears were desperately hanging onto every sound as well, but it was hard with the blood pumping through his head.

"Hello-o!" Abbey called out suddenly, making Ron jump so much he almost tripped over himself.

"Shut up!" he hissed, enraged. "What if there's something out there that wants to eat us!"

"Aw relax," she told him with a wave of the hand. "We already beat a monster, what's the chances they managed to convince two beasties to sit and wait patiently down here." She raised her wand and gazed into the blackness.

"Probably quite a high chance!" said Ron a little high pitched. "You have no idea-"

"Hey!" cried A.J. suddenly, pointing over to the right. "Look over there." There was a small glow emanating from a point about thirty or forty feet away, it was hard to judge the distance. As it grew brighter, a second light appeared on their left, and then before they knew it a dozen or so orange flames were lining the walls either side of them, about fifteen feet from where they were standing.

Now everything was illuminated, Ron had rather wished it had stayed in the dark. They were standing on a small stone platform; if any of them had moved another foot or two outwards when they hadn't been able to see it would have been an almost certain death, as the edges dropped down into a seemingly endless blackness. Ron felt his stomach flip as he shuffled away from the drop.

The other side of the room was perhaps half a Quidditch pitch length away, where an identical platform protruded from the wall in front of an identical closed door. Connecting these two jetties was a narrow stone walkway, perhaps only a couple of feet in width. And swinging above that, their handles disappearing into the pitch, were several enormous metal mallets. That was the only way Ron could describe them; massive, shiny, thundering hammers. The circumference of the smooth, round heads were at least as tall as Ron, and they rocked back and forth gracing the surface of the walkway by centimetres.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" cried Ron as the other two stood with their mouths open. "Who in the Fairying Forest thought this up? We have to run across a tiny bridge avoiding getting whacked by the giant mallets, or else we'll get smashed into oblivion!"

He was aware his voice was approaching a shriek by the time he'd finished, but he thought that was probably appropriate. Abbey's eyes were very wide, absorbing everything that she was now seeing.

"It's the ones that're close together that'll be tricky – we'll have to time it very carefully."

"Oh you think?!" demanded Ron. "That walkway is narrow enough anyway, and then we have to run across in-between swings, look!" He pointed at the two closest to them. "They're right after each other, how will we get past?"

"By being fast!" shouted A.J., throwing his hands out in exasperation. "What's the alternative, stay here, get caught, let Chris die for nothing?"

Ron swallowed, ashamed of his cowardliness. A.J. was right, they had to keep going, there was no stopping now. They couldn't let Bellatrix get the Philosopher's Stone, if that really was what was down there, and Chris' death absolutely couldn't be in vain.

"Okay then," he said sheepishly. "How do we go about this?"

"I'll go first," said Abbey, committed. "I can call out the moves after I'm through, guide you along."

Ron nodded, and the three of them edged up towards the first mallet.

Abbey watched it swing by, the second hot on its heels. She then stood on her tiptoes and took a good look at the third hammer in their path. Just under her breath Ron could hear her counting.

"Okay," she said, smoothing down her dirty cheerleading uniform nervously. "There's not enough room for us all to go at once, so you'll have to wait till I get all the way till the other side and I'll call you over."

"Right," said Ron tersely. He felt incredibly sick, his headache worse than ever. Just take deep breaths, he told himself. It will be fine, they could do this.

"So – the first one you gotta go as soon as it's clear, don't wait for the second one or you won't have enough time before the first one comes back," she instructed the boys. "There's room to wait before the third one, as that has a big swing, so just go when you've caught your breath. After that I can't tell, so I'll just shout on back when I've figured it."

"Good luck," said A.J.

Abbey took a long, deep breath, and when the mallet swung by next she ran for it. Ron felt his knees go weak as she did, but within a second she shouted "Clear!" back at them. He saw her go again, and then she was lost from vision behind the three swinging mallets. "Clear!" she called once more, and Ron let go of the breath he was holding.

"How many more do you recon there are?" asked A.J. not taking his eyes off the walkway. Ron rubbed his own eyes.

"Dunno – that's three. I'd say there's at least three or four more." Just then Abbey's voice called out again.

"Okay – this one ain't good!" Ron was worried that would be the case.

"How come?" he called out.

"You gotta stand in the path of the fourth one for three whole seconds whilst the fifth one swings past. You literally gotta jump as soon as it's clear otherwise the fourth one'll getcha."

Ron took a moment to digest that. "Okay," he said in a small voice.

"Right – here I go," she yelled out. Ron hugged himself and A.J. covered his mouth with his hand.

"Come on," Ron moaned, nausea taking over him and for a fleeting moment he thought he might faint.

"Clear!" screamed Abbey and the boys breathed out in relief. They could hear her gasping for air. All the blood seemed to rush back into Ron's head. "Alright," she said, a little calmer. "There's only two more – the first is no big deal, just run when it passes, but the last is super fast and there's not much room between the two." It was quiet for a minute or so, and Ron rubbed his temples. He really did feel very ill now. "I think there's actually a pattern where you can get through both at once," came Abbey's voice again. "Okay – I'm a go now. I'll holler when I'm on the other platform."

Ron closed his eyes. "Come on," he muttered to himself. "Come on you can do this..."

"I did it!" she yelled, jubilant. "I did it, I'm here!"

The boys roared in relief. "YES!" yelled Ron, punching the air.

A.J. was already sombre again, nodding and eyeing up the mallet in front of them. "Okay," he said. "I think I should go next, I can't protect myself against that woman."

Ron didn't object, and within seconds A.J. had disappeared. Abbey began bellowing out instructions, and Ron waited patiently as the four cries of "Clear!" rang out and he was safe on the other side.

"Okay," he called out when the other two stopped celebrating; he tried to keep his voice from shaking but it was hard. "I'm going to go now."

"'Member, just tear it when the first one's past," called out Abbey. Ron nodded, even though there was no one to see him do it. He watched the metal mallets swing past a couple of times. He went to go then stopped himself; this happened twice. "You okay pumpkin?" came Abbey's voice timidly from the other side of the chasm. Ron nodded again.

"Yep...I'm going now," he yelled back. He screwed up his fists, Bill's wand comforting in his right hand, and sucked in a breath so deep it made him dizzy. The first mallet went, and a burst of energy erupted through his feet. He raced along the walkway, one foot after the other, the gust of wind from the second mallet whipping his hair back. He stumbled to a halt and looked back over his shoulder at the two pendulums he had just bested. "Clear," he said in a rather weak voice, and the two Americans whooped.

"The next one's easy," cried out A.J. firmly. "Just run when it's just gone past you."

"Cool," replied Ron. "Okay, yeah – got it." He was feeling encouraged after his first success, and as soon as the third metal hammer swept past him he darted across its path.

"Cle-!" he started to shout, but a hot jet of green light hissed past his head, inches from his ear, and he screamed out, diving to what little floor was available to him. He groped at the rough sides of the stone walk way, his body pressed to the floor. "What the Hell?" he screeched out.

"Ron what's wrong?" cried Abbey, desperate. "You okay, we can't see!"

Another spell, this one sapphire blue, fired above Ron's head. "Someone's shooting at me!"

"Little BRATS!" squalled Bellatrix Lestrange. "You dare challenge me, do you know who I am!"

"A flipping nutter," cried Ron tiredly, his already throbbing head swimming alarmingly. He shakily got to his feet, spells flying over his head.

"Mudbloods!" wailed Bellatrix. "Infidels, you dare defy the Dark Lord!"

"Ron you gotta move!" yelled out Abbey. "Get past the next one – 'member the three second rule!"

"Yeah," said Ron shakily. He tried to steady his wobbly legs and looked behind him. The way the first three mallets swung meant he couldn't really see Bellatrix standing on the platform, but he could hear her shrieking insults at him.

"Oh you little dungbeatle, I'll show you – come to Auntie Bella, I'll show you what happens when you cross He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."

Ron shook his head and tried to block her out. He edged as close as he could to the fourth mallet – he had to stand for three whole seconds in its path before he could safely pass the fifth pendulum.

"Okay," he whispered to himself. "Go!" He stepped forward, he could almost feel the cold from the fourth mallet as it swung in front of his body. "One Flourish and Blotts," he croaked, willing his feet to stay where they were. "Two Flourish and Blotts, three Flourish and Blotts!" With a gasp he jumped by the fifth mallet just as the fourth one came back. "CLEAR!" he cried in relief. Now there were only two mallets in his path he could see Abbey and A.J. on the jetty ahead. They screamed in jubilation.

"Okay baby, you just gotta run like all Hell when I tell you to, okay?" Abbey called to him, and he saluted weakly back to show he understood. Another purple spell flew over their heads and exploded on the wall by A.J.'s head. Ron wanted to fire something back in retaliation, but the mallets still swung between them. He wanted to know if she'd got past any of the first three mallets, but instead he concentrated on the remaining two in front of him. Abbey was following them intently with her eyes, her jaw locked tight in concentration. She raised her eyebrows and opened he mouth; Ron tensed to run.

"GO!" she screamed, and Ron sprinted with all his might. The pendulums rocked past, the wind pulling in their wake stronger than any of the previous ones, so much so he almost lost his balance. But he didn't, he kept one foot in front of the other, until he ran right into A.J. and Abbey who grabbed at him in relief. He let out a strangled sort of cry in victory, but he was snapped back to reality pretty quickly by another spell hitting the wall not two feet from his head.

"Through the door," he gasped. "Hurry."

They ran to the wooden door, and Ron could have kissed it when it turned out not to be locked. Flinging themselves through it, he and Abbey turned once again to fire as many spells they could at it to make sure it was locked.

"We made it," said A.J. hoarsely.

The first thing Ron noticed was the blissful silence that hung in the air around him. Turning around from the door, he could see thick green hedges lining either side of a flagstone pathway; if he'd wanted to he could have stood in the middle and touched the edges of the leaves with his fingertips. The greenery was tall, taller than Ron by a good few feet, and it extended back to the wall behind them so it was flush. It then carried on about a dozen feet in front of them until it ended in a T junction. Above them was black, just black. Ron couldn't tell if it was a starless night or a very high ceiling, but there was a faint breeze floating by. A soft light glowed from within the shrubbery walls at regular intervals, but again Ron couldn't tell what was causing it.

Carefully, and without a word, the three students slowly walked to the end of the pathway and looked in both directions. To the left the path lasted about twenty feet before it turned right, and to the right it was about the same but with two additional left turn offs before the path actually veered left. Ron groaned.

"It's a bloody maze," he said rubbing his temple. If only this headache would go away, he thought. Everything would be so much easier.

"Do you reckon there's nasty things in there to slow us down," asked Abbey, looking warily over her shoulder.

Ron nodded. "Probably, but we'll have to find out I guess." He look left and right as his stomach filled up with a heavy dread. They could be lost in here for hours.

A.J. walked a few paces to the left and placed his hand on the bush. "Y'know," he said hesitantly. "I read something once about mazes."

Ron looked over at him as he bit his lip.

Abbey raised her eyebrows hopefully. "Somethin' that could help?"

A.J. looked back at them and shrugged, that dead look still haunting him. The adrenalin thrill from the mallets had left him already and he was tired with grief once more. "I've never tried it, and I don't know if it's true or not. But, this thing said that if you keep your left hand on the wall and follow it round at all times, that'll get you through a maze."

Ron stared at him. He was too exhausted to work out if that was genius or insanity. "So...you just go where you left hand takes you?" he asked.

"Or I guess the right would work just as well – I think it means that you don't go over the same way twice."

"Yeah..." said Abbey slowly. "It might take longer, but it would lead you out eventually, it would have to." She looked at Ron excitedly, but he just felt his shoulders drop.

"It's a magic maze," he cried in frustration. "It probably has staircases, and bits of hedge that like to move about!" He was thinking of all the corridors and passages at Hogwarts; you were lucky if you could go a week without being stumped by some section of stones that had gone for a walk or wanted to play a trick on you.

There was something else that was bothering him, as well. It was gnawing at the ends of his nerves. He wouldn't let on to his two companions, but the last experience he'd had with a maze had ended with Harry dropping from thin air, battered from fighting for his life with You-Know-Who and dragging the body of Cedric Diggory with him. It wasn't exactly a comforting memory.

"It's our best bet," said Abbey, resolved and more or less ignoring Ron's outburst. 'C'mon, we better high tail it 'fore that crazy woman blows the damn door down."

Ron sighed, and nodded in agreement. She was right, it was the only option they had really, it was perhaps a little better than running round blind.

With that, they took off at a run, A.J. in the lead and taking them left at every turn. As expected, they ended up going all round the houses, through tunnels, down and then up stairs, but after ten minutes or so Ron allowed himself to feel a little relief that they had not once run into an obstacle of any kind.

"Who is she?" asked A.J. after a while, his tone stony.

Ron took a moment to realise what he was talking about. "Oh, um," he said, feeling irrationally guilty. Like knowing who Bellatrix was made him responsible for Chris' death. "Bellatrix Lestrange, one of You-Know-Who's favourites." He swallowed hard and thought of Neville Longbottom. "She tortured my friend's parents to death."

On that ominous note, they slowed their run to a walk, and as a natural silence descended over them Ron wished desperately they had some water. The cheese toasties in the Thunderbird changing room seemed a lifetime ago now. He rubbed his throat and gasped.

"Hey!" cried a very high pitched voice. The three of them spun round to see who had spoken. A tiny fairy, no bigger than the palm of his hand, flew up to Ron's face. She was glowing green and clad in a leafy dress, her eyes were black like a beetles. "Do you wanna drink? I'll take you to where you can get a drink!"

"No!" cried another voice as a second little fairy, this one luminescent purple, buzzed out of the bushes. "Don't listen to her – I'll get you out of here!"

Their voices were squeaky, like a child's toy. One fairy grabbed Ron's shirt with her tiny hands and pulled back the way they'd come, the other took a hold of Abbey's skirt and tried to get them to go down a turning on the right. "No thank you," said Abbey, swatting the purple fairy away. "We know where we're going."

"No you don't!" said a yellow fairy, popping up from behind A.J. "You're going the wrong way, you're in terrible danger – follow me!"

Ron looked at Abbey. "What's the betting they're here to confuse us?"

"Hell yeah," she said, nodding in agreement. "Go on, scat! A.J. lead the way." They continued with their 'only turn left' policy, the three fairies flitting about their heads.

"Yes!" squealed a new turquoise fairy, flying out of the bush ahead. "You're going the right way, I've been here for years, follow me!"

"Just keep going A.J." said Abbey through clenched teeth. He nodded and took them left once more. Several other fairies, all of different colours, joined them as they walked, all telling them to turn different ways to reach different things. Food, clean clothes, a place to sleep. A glittering emerald fairy shot up in front of A.J.'s face.

"Come with me," she cooed. "I know where to find your friend, the one you lost." A.J. stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Abbey and Ron to almost run into him.

"No," snapped Abbey, running in front of A.J. and grabbing him by the shoulders. "There's a whole bunch of ways she could know about Chris, don't you listen to her." She spun around and pointed at the emerald fairy. "That's just plain wicked!" she scolded. "You oughta be ashamed of yourself."

"But I do know the way," the fairy whined. Ron batted her away.

"Go torment someone else."

They continued with their increasingly noisy entourage, but Ron found the more there were, the more they actually cancelled each other out. The strain on his head though was pretty awful.

All of a sudden, his legs gave way, the sensation they'd turned to jelly unavoidably prevalent. He grabbed out at the branches of the hedge and managed to stop himself falling all the way to the stone floor. His vision swirled dangerously and he sucked in a lungful of air as nausea engulfed him. "Wait!" he managed to grunt out as the other two were heading off. Abbey turned and called out to A.J. to come back.

"What's wrong?" she asked concerned as they approached. "You feelin' okay?"

"I'll show you where to get some medicine!" cried a pink fairy.

"No I told you he needs a bed," insisted the yellow one.

Ron shook his head and fell to all fours. The blood was pumping so hard in his ears it was hard to keep his eyes open or hear anything she was saying. "Headache," he moaned, grabbing his head with his hand and rocking into a sitting position. He covered his eyes and leant against the bush.

"A headache?" Abbey repeated, but Ron didn't take his hands from his eyes to look at her; the darkness was seemingly helping.

"Yeah," he whispered, breathing slowly and steadily. "Had it since I got here – never normally get 'em."

There was an awkward pause and Ron thought he heard some feet shuffling over the fairies' din. "Ron – we have to keep going," said A.J.

"Yeah, I know!" he replied, still not looking up. "I've been dragging myself on ever since we got in this bloody tunnel. I don't...I can't..."

He lost track of what he'd been saying as his nausea went from being in his head to being on the floor. "Ewwa!" shrieked Abbey as she and A.J. jumped backwards and away from the mess. Ron leant back and wiped his mouth, attempting to get the foul bitter taste off his lips. The heaviness on his head had lifted considerably and he blew out a sigh of relief.

"That's better," he said with a grin. The two Americans looked from their sick splattered shoes to Ron's slightly more rosy face.

"Well that's de-lightful," said Abbey, a false positivity ringing through her words. Several fairies offered routes to find mops and buckets. A.J. leaned over and offered his arm for Ron to get up with. Ron took it gratefully; he didn't exactly feel right as rain but he did feel well enough to walk.

"You not feelin' alright sweetie?" asked Abbey, concerned. Ron shook his head, and resisted the urge to divulge just how rotten he was really feeling.

"Better now," he said, and tried really hard not to wish for a drink. It was hard with a particularly robust fairy pulling on his ear and telling him an alleged way to a pub.

They walked. The fairies continued relentlessly with their directions, but they only followed A.J. There were damp, earthy smelling underground passageways, and tunnels that went on for ages, twisting and turning surrounded by topiary. But never once did they rise above the top of the hedge so they could get a look at where they were going. Abbey suggested at one point A.J. give her a shoulder sit so she could get high enough to see, but she hit her head painfully on some invisible barrier so decided not to try again. This made all the fairies giggle. The flagstones were always the same cool creamy marble and Ron found them quite hypnotic after what felt like hours of staring at them.

Fatigue was setting in now. The adrenalin was dissipating from his system and he was finding it harder and harder to walk. He had to concentrate on not tripping over his own trainers and keeping his eyelids from drooping. "I spy," he said in the most energetic voice he could muster (a little more than dull). "With my little eye, something beginning with-"

"Water!" cried A.J. making Ron frown.

"I was gonna go with 'S' for 'Stone' but whatever."

"No," said Abbey, shaking his arm to make him look up. "Look!"

Ron frowned as he lifted his heavy gaze from the floor to the pathway in front of them. Ten feet ahead their way was blocked by a waterfall as high as the hedge, cascading down and churning onto the flagstone where it apparently disappeared. The water was azure, like a tropical sea, and rushing so fast it was impossible to see into it. The trio walked up to it and stopped.

"Should we go back?" asked A.J. nervously inspecting the obstacle. Abbey touched the edge of the fall with her fingertips, then extended her hand inwards.

"Yes!" cried one of the fairies. "This isn't the way! Turn around!"

"Ohh," said another blue one. "Bad things in there, come with us, we have cookies!"

"It's horrible and cold," shouted yet another. "Best try another way!"

Ron looked around, waiting for them to disagree with each other. None of them did.

"Hmm," said Abbey, pulling out her hand again and shaking the cold droplets off. She took a good look at the colourful horde above their heads. "There's not been anything like this until now, and they don't want us to go this way – I think maybe we should go through."

"What if this is the way out," cried Ron excitedly. He looked nervously over his shoulder, thinking about Bellatrix. He was amazed she hadn't caught up with them already; she was probably blasting holes in the maze to get through.

"Do we just...walk through then?" asked A.J. dubiously. "How do we know how far back it goes?"

"Forever!" shrieked a silver fairy, grabbing his t-shirt dramatically. "It'll kill you!"

"We don't," said Ron, ignoring her. "But I'm with Abbey, I think this is the way, and I'll go first."

"You will?" said Abbey, which Ron thought was a little rude.

"Yes," he told her. "You went first on the swinging hammers of death, I'll go first on this."

"How will we know you're through?" asked A.J. "You can't really shout like on the last one." They thought a while, Ron looking back down the path again. This was silly, he should just go. The fairies shouted at them to turn around.

"How 'bout you shine a bright light or somethin'?" suggested Abbey. Ron was about to ask her what if it wasn't a straight path through, or it went down or something, but he decided to address that if it happened and get moving now instead. After their underwater saga at the Ministry last week, he had badgered Hermione to teach him a descent Bubble Charm, and he had never felt the timeliness of learning a spell more in his life. Once sure that the dome around his head was secure, he nodded at the other two, and stepped in under the cool running water.

His feet still walked along the flagstones as if gravity was pulling him down, but as soon as he was fully submerged his movements became slow and his clothes floated out and away from his body. The water was cold but it was actually quite refreshing, easing the pain in his head even more. There was a luminescent glow coming from the hedges that still lined the pathway, and if he looked upwards it was still black just like before. The water extended on in front of him so far he couldn't accurately tell where it ended, and that made him nervous.

He walked as fast as he could, unsettled by the way his feet stuck to the ground when he forced them there. The rest of the time, between steps, they wanted to float off like the rest of his body. The bubble head let him have an almost unmarred view of the underwater world, and soon he spotted seaweed growing from in between the stones, then little fish swimming this way and that. Crabs scuttled along and a seahorse colony clung the leaves on the hedge. The further he went the bigger the fish got, and the hedges were no longer just leaves, but covered in all kind of aquatic flora. Coral mixed in with the seaweed and pebbles littered the floor, making it so Ron had to now pick his path carefully.

Something pink flicked out of the corner of his eye, and Ron spun as fast as he could to look but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Had the fairies followed him underwater? It didn't look like it. His heart rate quickened, he gripped his useless wand and tried his best to run ahead; he had been sure that there was more to getting through this lagoon than overcoming a fear of getting wet. Something else flickered pink but he didn't stop to look, he just kept running. It was like being stuck in a bad dream; no matter how hard he ran, he was still essentially swimming. His breathing in the bubble was the only sound he could hear as all else was muffled by the water. "Keep going," he whispered but it resonated and sounded much louder to him. "Not much further."

And he was right. There in the distance was obviously another waterfall, mostly hidden by all the plant life, but it was definitely there. He ran, his toes barely keeping him on the ground, fighting through the greenery. Just as he reached the water's edge he felt something tug at his ankle, but he flung himself through without pause for thought, tumbling and shuddering onto the cold marble stones on the other side. His bubble burst and he gasped for breath, even though he hadn't been holding it, it was just nice to breathe fresh air and not the artificial stuff from the charm. He inspected his ankle and gulped as he saw several faint red sucker marks starting to well up. Whatever that had been he had no way to warn the others. All he could do was aim the brightest light he could muster and hope it reached all the way along the thankfully straight passageway.

After he fired a spell at himself to dry off the cold water from his clothes and skin, he turned to look around where he had landed. It was a large cluttered room, dark and shadowy save for the same sourceless light blue glow they'd seen in the maze. The floors and walls were stone, and so was the ceiling as far as he could tell. Wooden beams crossed under the dome of the roof and the occasional bat swooped back and forth, the air in their wings echoing in the eerie silence of the hall.

Built up from where he was stood dozens and dozens of mirrors, maybe even hundreds, of all different sizes. The were all arranged in a jumble, but Ron was able to start walking among them, like little pathways had been made to inspect them. There were big ones and small ones, ones that stood on bearlike feet and ones that were hardly more than compacts. Some had ornate gold frames, others looked like they'd been pulled off of public toilet walls.

Ever so slightly, and only for a second, the water behind the fall lit up. Ron frowned – why would there be a light this way? Was it Abbey? He eyed the water uneasily for a minute or two but nothing else happened. He coughed and flexed his tired shoulders; it was very cold in the room, even though he'd dried off all the water from the passageway. His breath came out in puffs of smoke and he rubbed his hands together, never for a moment letting go of his wand. That light was probably nothing, he reasoned.

"Come here," a voice whispered, making Ron jump out of his skin. He spun round, looking for whoever had spoken, but he couldn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" he demanded, gripping even tighter onto his wand. There was a laugh, a low pitched giggle, and Ron spun round again ready the smack any fairy he saw right out of the air. "Who's there!" he shouted, louder this time.

"Come here, Ron," breathed the voice, making him shiver.

"How do you know my name?"

His eyes darted over the various mirrors, all the ones near him holding his reflection. They looked just as panicked as he felt.

Except one. Ron steadied his breathing as he spotted a mirror where he could see himself, but like the mirrors at the Burrow the image it held was not just a reflection. The mirror Ron grinned but it didn't meet his dark blue eyes. "Come here," he said enticingly beckoning with a finger. Ron crossed his arms and felt almost relieved – he was used to items of furniture trying to trick him into things after a lifetime of living with Fred and George.

"I don't think so mate," he said and walked quickly away. Some of the other reflections nodded in approval. One told him to change his shirt. Another was whistling 'Fly Me To The Moon.'

With a splutter and a crash the form of A.J. flew through the waterfall barrier and landed on the floor. He looked around for Ron, who ran over to him as he started pointing desperately at the bubble on his head. With a pop Ron undid the charm and A.J. panted and shook on the ground. "You okay?" Ron asked hesitantly, patting his back.

"I've had better experiences," he admitted.

With a flick of his wand Ron removed all the water from about A.J.'s person and helped him to stand. "Yeah – not really my idea of fun," he agreed whilst blasting the beam down through the water again. A.J. nodded and coughed.

"Don't like swimming at the best of times," he said looking around. "What the Hell is this place?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. There's just a bunch of mirrors, some bats, and from what I can see no doors."

"What's the task then?" asked A.J. "I can't see what challenge we'd have to do?"

Ron watched the other boy as he walked around the small patio area just in front of the waterfall. He held his hands out slightly in front of his body, not getting to close to anything, enjoying his space and air.

Ron shrugged again and rubbed the back of his neck. "I can't see a task either," he admitted. "Some of the mirrors talk, but I don't think they're that helpful."

"I'm not even surprised anymore," said A.J. shaking his head. "Talking mirrors," he added under his breath.

"There was another light just now," said Ron, thinking out loud. "Before you came through."

A.J. stopped pacing. "Yeah, the water all lit up when I was walking through." He looked at Ron. "I thought maybe it was you?" Ron shook his head and tried to ignore the nervous sensation in his belly.

"Maybe Abbey just got tired of waiting – after I got through okay, maybe she thought she could just go right in after you?"

"Hmm," murmured A.J. frowning at the waterfall. "The light was quite a while ago – shouldn't she be through by now?"

Ron didn't like the sound of this. "Hey – you see any pink tentacle like things when you were coming through?" A.J. stared at him.

"What?"

"I didn't really see it," admitted Ron feeling a bit foolish. "But there were these pink things, then something grabbed a hold of my ankle just as I got out." He lifted up his jeans and showed A.J. the red sucker marks. His eyebrows shot off towards his hairline.

"There's a monster in there?" he asked, his voice slightly choked.

"Yeah," said Ron slowly. "Hey – you think I should have a look a see if Abbey's okay?"

"You think!" cried A.J. "Who knows what that is? She said you can't use magic underwater, she's defenceless!" Ron very much wanted to point out just how defenceless he would be also, and that A.J. could equally go himself, but he didn't. A.J.'s infectious sense of chivalry goaded him to reapply the bubble charm, and with a deep breath to steady himself, he stepped back into the water.

He had to fight back through the densest of the foliage, but soon enough he could see down through the underwater passageway again. There was definitely something moving up ahead, but he couldn't see what. Once again he attempted the strange underwater sprint as he picked he way between the coral and crustaceans. The closer he got the more purple the form in front became. "Abbey!" Ron yelled out, and then felt stupid realising she wouldn't be able to hear him.

The pink limbs were extending out of the hedges, long tentacles with soft round suckers. Ron tried to make his legs move faster as he realised with horror that one of the limbs was round Abbey's calf, another on her wrist. She caught sight of Ron and screamed out, though it was only a faint sound to him. She beat the beast with her fist as another limb unravelled from the bush and snaked towards her torso. She screamed again in rage and fired Bellatrix's wand at it, but the spell puffed and died in the water before it even travelled a foot. The tendril whipped around and seized the wand from her hand, sneaking back into the hedge to deposit it before finding its way back out again towards her body.

Ron finally reached where she was struggling and kicked the approaching tentacle away. He wrapped his fingers around the limb grasping her wrist and prised it off, the suckers visibly pulling at Abbey's golden skin. With a roar she dove at her leg as soon as her hand was free and yanked at the remaining pink limb on her leg. Ron shoved the other tendrils away as they eagerly reached out for them.

The one on her leg was not coming off, in fact is was winding even further on. Abbey was getting more and more enraged as she heaved at it and thumped it with her fists. A limb almost found its way round Ron's arm, he only just noticed it in time to push it away. Abbey was waving to get his attention, still pulling with one hand and gesticulating with the other. He couldn't work out what she wanted, she kept thrashing back and forth with her hand, so he kicked off the ground and landed over by her. Without pause she grabbed his wand off him, rose it as high as she could, and brought it hurtling down to drive it into the flesh of the pink tentacle. It jerked off as blank ink squirted from the wound, finally releasing Abbey's leg. It began retracting back into the hedge, along with all the other limbs, and Ron snatched back his wand before it too was lost to the undergrowth.

Abbey grasped his hand and together they kicked and swam their way back towards the waterfall where A.J. was waiting. They scrambled past the increasing amount of plant life, and eventually tumbled out onto the marble patio area. A.J. ran to support Abbey as the two students popped their bubble charms and gulped down lungfuls of air.

"She's comin'," yelled Abbey pushing A.J. away from her.

"What, who's coming?" asked A.J. as he helped Ron off the floor for a second time.

"Holy Mary Mother o' God," snapped the blonde girl, patting herself down looking for wounds. "Who do you think! That ho-bag that's been on our tails the whole time. She was hollerin' in the maze, calling out for us an' bein' mean. I heard her so I flashed that light to warn y'all and dove on in 'fore she could see me."

She took a deep breath and looked at Ron through her dripping wet hair.

"Thanks for savin' me from big, pink and ugly," she said after a thought.

"We can't have long then," said A.J.

"We have to get out of here," said Abbey, but Ron shook his head.

"I couldn't see any exits," he said. "We're stuck."

"And I lost her damn wand," said Abbey with a curse. "Ron, you're the only one who can defend us now."

"The Hell he is!" snapped A.J. "Abbey, grab a mirror – we'll stand either side of the waterfall and whoever gets the best shot first, smash it on her head!"

"Ha!" barked Abigail. "I like you're thinkin'." They each grabbed the nearest reasonable sized mirror and moved into position by the walls either side of the churning water. Abbey's mirror yelled at her that she didn't want to be smashed, but Abbey just told her to quit yammering. Ron stood, dizzy, bewildered and dripping wet. He didn't even think to dry himself this time.

Why did things always happen so fast, he thought slightly panicked as he clutched at his ink stained wand and stared at the exit of the watery depths. What were they thinking? They couldn't hit one of the most deranged witches alive on the head – she'd have them in a second. It's down to me, thought Ron as water dripped from his clothes and made little puddles on the floor. I have to defeat Bellatrix Lestrange.

He shook. His breath fogged up the air in front of his face and his body ached. He was tired, he was ill. He didn't know what this headache was about but he knew it wasn't normal.

Abigail and A.J. fidgeted with the weight of the mirrors in their arms. Ron wanted to tell them to put them down, to hide, but he knew from the short time he'd spent with them they wouldn't. So would this be how it ends? he couldn't help but wonder. He'd never see his family again, Harry or Hermione. He'd be snuffed out just like Chris by an evil maniac who wanted to help bring about the end of the world. And Abbey and A.J., they would die for nothing too. He'd dragged them into this because he couldn't work out how to get home by himself and now they were all going to die.

He felt a lump rise in his throat. He really wanted to go home.