Chapter Six – Part Two
Draco gripped his fingers into the rock face as he and Harry made their decent across the sloping, rambling wasteland. The cliff had been acute as they'd first attempted to follow the Rhansyk, but after a little searching they had found a more gradual slope down and had begun scrambling down in earnest.
Draco liked the physical demands of what they were doing. One wrong move could send him tumbling down the steep mountainside, which was preferable to a long fall but would undoubtedly be painful nonetheless and still had no guarantee he wouldn't crack his head open. So he filled his thoughts with things like whether the rocks and branches he was reaching for were secure? What direction they were headed? If the Rhansyk had doubled back on them?
It left very little room to ponder the fact that somehow he and Harry had landed the task of defeating the most evil wizard that ever lived, that there were not one but two of them, and that if they failed it would mean the Voldemorts would be free to keep on tearing up Limbo like they were, almost certainly resulting in all the universes that were attached to it falling apart and undoing existence.
Oh, and his girlfriend had been stabbed and was probably dying.
"You okay?" Harry called up to him.
"Terrific," replied Draco flatly.
The sword hanging from his waist caught on yet another tangle of shrubbery, but rather than get frustrated Draco just un-looped it and carried on scrabbling. He knew it was no match for a wand, but in his hands it felt vastly superior. And Godric Gryffindor's sword had to be one of the most superior ever made, of that he was sure.
Draco knew his way around a blade, after all those hours he and Blaise had spent sparring at the Manor, and he liked how that took people off guard, often to his advantage. But for his age his magic skills were far below par and his wand felt clumsy in his fingers, often more of a burden than a help.
Right now, he needed all the help he could get.
The cliff side was levelling out a little. It was become easier to try and walk rather than climb down using hands as well as feet. "Do you see them?" asked Draco, referring to the two Rhansyk they were following. He felt very exposed on the side of the mountain, but since they'd edged over the top they'd not seen any other sign of life apart from the buzzards flying over head. Draco wondered if they really were buzzards who'd found their way into Limbo, or just part of the construct of the wasteland stretching out in front of them.
Harry shook his head. "Nothing," he called back. "I guess we get to the bottom and try and assess which way they went."
Draco sighed. "If they really do want to lead us to the Voldemorts," he said. "They'd probably make it clear enough which direction they're headed."
Harry stopped his decent and looked at Draco. "I know you're not fond of this plan," he began, but Draco interrupted him.
"Hey, who wouldn't be thrilled to be lead to their gruesome, sticky death?" he said jovially. "We don't have a choice, I know that. Either we kill the Voldemorts or they kill us. I'm just trying to find a way out of the sticky death part." He shrugged. "Or at least put it off for as long as possible."
Harry managed a weak smile. "Sucks doesn't it."
Draco kicked a stone and watched it slowly tumble down the craggy rocks and dirt. "You're the hero," he said. "You've done this before. I just mess things up."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "No you don't," he said. "You've saved my life a ridiculous amount of times, and you helped bring down your Voldemort as well as mine."
Draco just shrugged again. How many good deeds would it take to erase what he did back at the school all those years ago? And no matter how much he repented, nothing could even bring back his mother, or the other Draco's.
"Besides," said Harry, a trace of humour in his voice as he began walking again. "You don't have a choice, no one else can do this job, so there's really no point in thinking otherwise."
"Yeah," said Draco following begrudgingly. "But moaning makes me feel better."
The terrain was lifeless and grey. Trees tried their best to take root in the crumbling soil, but the results were twisted and leafless. An empty breeze, neither warm nor cold, soundless and without true direction, ruffled the boys hair from time to time. Boulders broke up the landscape, giving it texture and some semblance of shelter, but Draco knew that if anyone were to hide behind one, he and Harry would be very easy targets.
"I wonder how Hermione is?" he wondered aloud after some time. It was funny how his limbs weren't aching after all the climbing, but then he was in Limbo. If he didn't want his muscles to tire, then maybe they wouldn't?
As if echoing his thoughts, Harry replied. "Ric said it's mind over matter," he said. "And Hermione's got the strongest mind I know. If she just has to will herself to get better, then she'll be right as rain in no time."
Draco nodded, and tried his hardest to be convinced by Harry's words. Logically he made sense, but Draco's worry was a powerful beast. He didn't bring her up again.
The buzzards called to each other, a faint, piercing cry that echoed off the dead ground. They were circling Draco and Harry in a most unsettling manner. "Get out of here!" yelled Draco, grabbing a rock and hurtling it up into the sky. It reached a pretty high distance, but the birds scattered long before it got anywhere near them.
"Draco," Harry admonished, but he stalked off without paying much attention. He hated this cat and mouse game, he wanted to get to action.
"If the Rhansyk had wanted us to follow them," Draco called over his shoulder. "We would have seen them again by now, so we knew we were still on the right path."
Harry chewed his cheek. "I know," he said, and Draco slowed down so he could catch him up. "I'm not sure what they're up to. I thought they'd be taking us to the Voldemorts so we could duel or whatever it is they want to do, but..."
"But Voldemort's a coward," finished Draco. "And maybe he just wants to get rid of us some other way."
Harry looked like he might have been about to agree, but at that moment the strangest noise filled the air, sucking all the pressure from Draco's ears. A blinding light tore across the sky, and he flung his hand up to shield his eyes.
"Get down!" yelled Harry, tackling Draco to the ground. They were still on a slope, and the two boys rolled a fair few feet before they found themselves cradled by a nestle of rocks. "Urgh!" grunted Harry as they slammed to a halt.
"What was that!" cried Draco, cold prickles flurrying over his skin. "A spell?"
"A bomb," said Harry grimly. He peered around the rocks, and Draco followed suit. Far off in the distance a cloud was rising against the horizon, it looked like a mushroom with a huge head and a skinny, white hot stalk.
"That's a Muggle thing," said Draco, swallowing on a dry throat. "Isn't it? You blow each other up with them."
Harry glared at the strange cloud, stood up, and brushed himself off. "Not those ones," he growled, and carried on walking. "We don't drop those, only two times ever, and never again."
"Well," replied Draco, uncertain as he followed. "At least it didn't land on our heads."
"That's not-!" snapped Harry, but he stopped himself short, and reigned in his temper. "It doesn't just explode," he said tersely, and Draco guessed the bomb must have really scared him. "But seeing as it doesn't exist, that everything here is just something dreamed up from someone's imagination, I think you're right. I choose not to let it affect me."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Okay," he said. "Sounds good to me I suppose."
The boys walked. The ground gradually began to level out, the mountain top easing further away from them, but other than the buzzards there remained no other sign of life.
"Do you think," said Draco eventually as they weaved through starved looking trees and shrubs. "It would work again?" He'd been debating with himself whether or not to bring this up.
The sky was a groggy grey colour, with the kind of light trying to penetrate from behind it that made his eyes wince when he rose them from the ground. It wasn't exactly bright, but he squinted all the same. Harry did alike. "What?"
"The spell that protected us," Draco continued, his voice small. He'd been thinking about this for a while. "From our mums' dying."
Harry considered this for a bit. "It's why the two Voldemorts are here," he said eventually. "It's why we were able to beat the killing curses. So maybe."
But Draco shook his head. "It won't be that easy," he said softly.
"But it can't hurt," argued Harry.
Draco didn't reply. He was a fool if he thought the same trick would work twice, but maybe Harry was right. Perhaps it would at least act as a little good luck charm for them.
"I think that's why we have to fight them," ventured Harry as they followed a trickle of a stream through a thicket of vegetation, no doubt boosted by the unusual occurrence of water.
"Because we killed them?" questioned Draco. "Yeah, isn't that what Alex said?"
Harry shook his head. "But he didn't say exactly why," explained Harry. "Maybe because we killed them, because of the sacrifices our mothers made, that's what he meant about having 'more power'. Maybe it means we're more solid to them in this make-believe place."
Draco stopped walking. "But are we make-believe?" he asked, looking down at the scar on his right wrist, the one masking where his Dark Mark should have been. "We're not misplaced like Hermione, or dead like Seamus. Alex pulled us here – are we in our bodies or our minds?"
Harry looked a little helpless, and Draco was almost sorry he'd asked. "I think," said Harry heavily. "If we die, we die. It won't matter if we're in our bodies or not, I think there's no coming back from this."
"Unless we kill our Voldemorts for good," countered Draco, pointing a finger at Harry.
Harry managed a laugh and picked up his feet again. "Exactly, so nothing to worry about."
"How will we tell which is which?" asked Draco, fingering the hilt of Godric's sword. "I mean what if we're in the heat of battle, and we blast them out of existence but I've got the Dark Lord you were supposed to have and it doesn't work?"
Harry tilted his head. "That's easy," he said. "My Voldemort is definitely uglier."
"Naughty boys," sang a voice that sent fear flying down Draco's spine. "Telling lies."
He and Harry spun around. He'd not been paying full attention, otherwise he might have noticed they'd been winding through several large boulders. The perfect place for an ambush.
"I know that voice," snarled Harry, and Draco was loathed to agree.
Dark eyes under black curls peeked up from one of the boulders. "Expulso!" cried Harry as Draco twisted on his heels, Godric's sword raised. Hyenas were scampering over the rocks, tongues lolling as they howled and rolled their eyes. Another head of black curls emerged, and Draco had to blink to believe his eyes.
"Tut tut," hissed the first Bellatrix Lestrange as the hyenas circled. "We heard your horrid words."
"We did," said the second Bellatrix, climbing out over the boulder. "Very unkind about our master."
"Didn't I kill you already?" snapped Harry, head jerking between one Bellatrix to the other.
"Yes," they both snarled in unison. They were dressed similarly, so you could almost be forgiven for thinking they were twins. But these were the Bellatrixes of Draco and Harry's worlds, the ones Harry had burnt alive and splattered respectively.
Draco had loathed his Aunt Bellatrix, and was genuinely grateful to Harry for putting her out of her misery. He wasn't surprised now to see them covered in thick black stitches, their clothes melding into their skin. One of the Bellatrixes was burnt, her charred flesh blurring even more seamlessly into the fabric of her clothes. The other wore a emerald necklace set in dark metal that Draco remembered from his childhood, but now it was latched onto her collar bones, growing out from her skin like crystals in a decrepit cave. Both distorted versions of his aunt scaled the large boulders and the hyenas yelped and danced around he and Harry.
They weren't alone Draco realised with a sickening lurch. More Rhansyk were creeping out from behind the boulder cluster. Mostly men, from all kinds of time periods Draco figured, were closing in on them. Harry and he spun around, wand and sword raised.
"This is not good," Draco rasped, his heart pounding.
"I noticed," Harry said back as the Bellatrixes cackled.
One Rhansyk looked like a soldier, or a pilot maybe, Draco didn't know the Muggle uniforms. But his stitched up skin was a sickening green colour, and he had bits of shrapnel protruding from his flesh and clothes. He had thick brown hair and sculpted muscles, and had probably been very handsome in real life. He smiled a dazzling grin at the boys and waved, then looked over at the mushroom cloud, like he was proud.
Suddenly Draco didn't feel so great.
"Baby Potter," cooed the Bellatrix with the necklace. The hyenas wagged their stumpy tails and snapped at Draco's heels. "Made a friend." She fixed her red eyes on Draco, hatred blazing from them. "Mummy will be upset with him."
"Mummy's dead," retorted Draco, mimicking her tone. He was trying to keep his fear and anger alive, but as the pilot drew near all he could feel was nausea. What was that mushroom cloud doing to him? To them, by the looks of Harry as he swayed on the spot. "Voldemort killed your sister," Draco pushed on. They were surrounded by Rhansyk and wild dogs, circling them, taunting them. Why didn't they just attack? "Your master killed her and didn't care."
He was hoping to get a rise out of her, but both the Bellatrixes giggled. "Sissy made bad choices," said the burnt one, the one from his world. "Just like her son."
The hyenas leapt without warning, howling and frothing at the mouth. Draco swung at the first one with Godric's sword, but then another came, and another. The pilot grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him to the ground, making him cry out as he bit his lip and inhaled dry soil. Mind over matter, he tried to tell himself, but the blood on his chin and the pain in his mouth made his body feel very real indeed.
He scrambled to his feet as Harry blasted back dogs and men. The pilot grabbed Draco by the throat, his skin burning where it made contact with his, like it was acid, and without meaning to he dropped the sword. Draco gagged and kicked out as the pilot smirked and hoisted him off his feet.
"Dance dance!" cried one of the Bellatrixes gleefully, clapping her hands and hopping from one foot to the other. Draco lashed out with his feet and tried to prise the pilot's fingers off his neck, but he was squeezing harder and harder. He flailed, his hand trying to wrap around his wand tucked into the back of jeans, but even if he could reach it he wouldn't have been able to speak any incantations. His throat was of fire, inside and out, the Rhansyk was winning. He knew it, and he grinned his movie star smile.
So Draco did the only thing he could think of; abandoned trying to remove the Rhansyk's fingers from his neck, and dug his thumbs into his eyes instead.
The pilot screamed as his red eyeballs exploded like water balloons and dropped Draco in a flash, cradling his face. Draco kicked away a rabid hyena as it leapt for him, and scooped up Godric's sword again. Without hesitating he jammed it into the pilot's gut, and ripped upwards, tearing the Rhansyk's cloth-like flesh in a flurry of dust, blood and bone.
As soon as what was left of the body hit the floor Draco felt a wave of fresh energy roll over him, and in a glance he realised the mushroom cloud was gone.
"No!" shrieked one of the Bellatrix's, and the hyenas seemed to hear her. Within seconds Draco had three charging at him, snarling and jaw's snapping. A grubby looking Rhansyk in a brown tunic and cloth cap ran for him too, red eyes watery and long fingernails swiping. Draco took only a moment to inhale and set his feet, before lunging with the sword.
One, two, he bounced with his feet, lashing out with the blade balanced in long arches. Sweat ran in his eyes as he spun and hit one wild dog, then the next. The Rhansyk ducked and tackled him to the ground, but this time Draco kept his grip on the hilt and thrashed out, carving into the peasant man's arm, almost severing it entirely.
"Draco!" yelled Harry, gabbing his attention as the Rhansyk howled and rolled away. "We need to go!" He was running towards him, and even though several hyenas and Rhansyk were scattered on the floor, several more were still up and chasing him. Draco turned and plunged his sword into the peasant's throat, but the third hyena that had been snapping at him took the moment of distraction to sink his teeth into Draco's thigh.
Draco screamed but the beast was blasted off him within a second by a jet of green light. "Episkey!" cried Harry as he reached Draco, not even pausing in his stride. "Come on!" Draco's leg was still sore, but thanks to the healing spell he was able to scramble to his feet with the sword, and run.
They tore out of the boulders back into the wasteland, the Bellatrixes, hyenas and remaining Rhansyk still on their heels.
"There!" cried Draco, pointing to a line of green not too far to their right. It looked like a jungle but whatever it was, he knew it would give them cover.
Harry fired spells wildly over his shoulder as they ran, trying to keep their pursuers at bay as they sprinted for the trees.
"Come on," urged Draco as his legs, so accustomed to running for hours on end, edged him ahead of Harry despite the healing hyena bite. "Come on, don't lose me, keep up!"
"I'm..." puffed Harry. "Trying! Reducto!"
The ground exploded behind them, knocking several of the Rhansyk and hyenas off their feet. The Bellatrixes were still chasing strong, and they looked incensed.
"Come BACK!" wailed the burnt one desperately.
Draco managed a laugh. "Yeah okay," he said to himself as the jungle loomed. The hyena's were gaining and one of the Bellatrixes fired a spell that flew dangerously close to his head. He glanced over his shoulder to check Harry was right behind.
A spell hit him in the back, and Draco shot of his feet, electricity searing through his body. "NO!" bellowed Harry, running to him as he hit back down on the dry, cracked soil. Fresh blood exploded in his mouth as he rolled, his limbs still alive with pain from whatever curse Bellatrix had used. "Come on," he cried in between shooting back at the mob behind. "Get up, keep running!"
Draco realised the sword wasn't in his hand again, but he decided not to waste time anymore and grabbed his wand. "Crucio!" he gasped, throwing everything he could into the unforgivable curse. He'd sworn to himself he'd never use it, but he figured it was okay on imaginary creatures that were trying to eat him.
What remained of the hyenas buckled and began writhing around on the floor, but the Rhansyk weren't far behind and the Bellatrixes were still spell casting.
"Go!" urged Harry, hauling Draco and his sword off the floor, and the two of them ran Hell for leather the last ten feet or so and into the jungle.
"No!" screamed the Bellatrixes, but Harry didn't let up, and with his hand clasped around Draco's arm, neither did he. It was only after they'd been running a minute or so between the trees Draco dragged them to a halt.
"Wait," he said. "Wait, wait – look." He nodded back through the trees as he took his sword back, and Harry followed his gaze.
"Where'd they go?" he asked, confused.
"I don't think they're following," said Draco, taking deep breaths in and out. The air was suffocating. "That's why they were so upset."
Harry frowned at him, his glasses already steaming up. "What, you think they can't?" he asked, taking them off and performing a water repelling charm.
"Or don't want to."
Harry raised his eyebrows and slipped his glasses back over his nose. "Right then," he said sombrely. "I guess we should get moving then."
Draco agreed, and began traipsing through the undergrowth. It was crawling with brightly coloured insects, snakes that wound themselves around tree trunks and howler monkeys hanging from branches, watching the boys go past with interest.
Draco wasn't sure what spell he'd been hit with, but his muscles were all still aching, and the remnants of the hyena bite throbbed in the heat. He rubbed his chin, and wasn't surprised when drying blood came off on his fingers.
"You okay?" he called back to Harry as he fanned his shirt away from his chest.
Harry coughed and sighed. "Sort of feel like I've gone swimming, but not bad really." He too had blood on his right arm and faint, pink lines where Draco guessed he'd healed himself from a hyena scratch as well.
The jungle was eerily quiet, and Draco's thoughts churned over in his head as to why the Bellatrixes and their hoard hadn't followed. He couldn't think that it was because they were scared; he'd known his aunt his whole life, and she was bold to the point of recklessness. Maybe Harry was right, in that something was physically stopping them from coming in. But what?
Movement up above caught Draco's eye, but all he could see were leaves and vines. "I think," he said softly, his eyes flicking from left to right. "We're being watched." He felt Harry stiffen, but they kept walking.
"Rhansyk?" he asked. Draco shook his head. He wasn't sure, but he could feel eyes on them, patient eyes. Eyes that belonged to something that wasn't afraid.
A huge black shape dove out of the undergrowth, snarling and roaring. Harry and Draco cried out and jumped aside as the panther landed between them, skidded and turned to face them, tail twitching and switching. Its eyes were entirely green, almost like light was shining out of them. It began stalking towards them, dropping low, ready to pounce.
"Get ready to run," murmured Harry.
The panther leapt.
"NOW!" he yelled, and fired at the cat. "Stupefy!" the spell his the panther, stunning it and knocking it unconscious.
Draco blazed through the trees, slashing a clearer path with Gryffindor's sword, Harry right behind him. "Was that thing possessed?" he asked, hacking through some beautiful flowers who's petals fluttered to the jungle floor like confetti.
"Don't know, don't care," cried Harry. "I'm just hoping he didn't have any frien-aagh!"
The world turned upside down around them as a huge net made of thick rope jerked up from under the litter on the jungle floor, and catapulted Draco and Harry ten feet in the air.
Draco somehow managed to keep Godric's sword upright so it didn't impale them and took a moment to catch his breath. "Another net," he said, thinking back to the underground trials in Germany, when Harry's quick thinking had saved them from being impaled on some nasty spikes.
"Yeah," agreed Harry, wriggling to try and look underneath them. "But who put this one here?" They swung in their trap, the jungle undulating below them.
"I'm not sure I want to find out," replied Draco.
Harry nodded in agreement. "You cut the rope," he said, indicating Godric's sword. "I'll levitate us to the ground."
"Ha-rry Pott-ah," rasped a voice, and Draco's blood turned to ice.
"Who's there?" cried Harry, twisting and turning, but the way they were stuck neither of them could see a thing.
"Who cares," hissed Draco. "Get us down, now!"
"Right," said Harry, flustered. "Mobilicorpus!"
Nothing happened. Draco looked around, confused. "Aren't we supposed to levitate?"
"I know I know!" snapped Harry, panicked. "Mobilicorpus, mobilicorpus!" Again nothing happened, he might as well not have been holding a wand.
"No magic for you Ha-rry Pott-ah," hissed the voice again, and Draco twisted to see a woman emerging from the foliage, creeping like a wild animal. She was dressed in scraps of clothing and stitched together like all the other Rhansyk had been. Most of her face was painted like a white skull missing its jaw bone; her dreadlocks were decorated with white rings and her bare arms and legs had white hand prints on.
"You!" yelled Harry in anger. "What have you done to me!"
"You know her?" said Draco, confused. If he cut the ropes now they would seriously hurt themselves falling that far. Why didn't the spell work?
"From the mountain," growled Harry. "She wanted me to follow her."
The woman laughed. "Dray-co," she said, her thick Caribbean accent extending his name. "Dray-co Mal-foy, me a come an me a snatch de boys, snatch em in me trap, snap snap!"
"Uh oh," said Harry.
"You're damn right uh oh," snapped Draco. "How has she stopped you from doing the spell?"
"Try your wand," said Harry, but Draco had just as much luck as he had done. He was used to spells not always working for him, but this was such an empty, useless feeling it filled him with dread.
"What have you done to us!" he shouted down at her, but the woman just laughed. He shoved his wand back in his pocket and looked around for a more practical solution, but that was when he realised the woman was not alone. A hoard of girls were slinking from behind the leaves like a disturbed nest of spiders, climbing up trees and crawling along the ground on their feet and hands. They all seemed to be holding things, but from their position trapped in the net Draco couldn't make out what.
The woman squatted below them, bobbing on her knees in what seemed like excitement. They were all muttering in low voices over one another, so Draco couldn't discern a single word.
"I think," he said, his voice tight in his throat. "She's a voodoo priestess."
"What?" said Harry. "You mean like voodoo dolls, with needles and stuff?"
"That was part of it," said Draco, trying to remember what he'd learned from his lessons with Severus. "They'd charm dolls to match real people, so they'd feel pain and stuff. But mostly they were just very dark wizards and witches. Didn't believe in wands really, it was all potion based. The Ministry did their best to eradicate their practices, but…"
"But that doesn't matter," said Harry, watching as the girls brought whatever they were carrying over to the priestess. They were all dressed in the same rags and bone jewellery as her, but had no stitching; she was the only Rhansyk. "If she's an evil witch that means she's somehow cursed us so we can't use magic, and now it looks like she's going to do something else."
The girls was setting up a circle of fat, red candles around the priestess. She now sat cross-legged in the centre as they scattered bones, black feathers, scraps of paper and a number of other strange items in the circle. The priestess swayed with her arms held out, chanting as the smallest girl of them all began working her way around the circle, lighting the candles one by one with a long, skinny black one.
"Harry," said Draco urgently. "Their curses were twisted, horrible things, what they did to Muggles and magic people alike, it was unbelievable."
"We need to get out of here," said Harry, and Draco couldn't agree more. If she was preparing to do some of the things he'd read about, he did not want to be anywhere near her.
He looked around desperately. "Swing!" he said, grabbing a bit of rope in each hand. "Swing the net!" He leant his body forwards, then backwards, again and again. Harry quickly caught on and began to mimic him. The net suspended from the trees started picking up momentum, swaying on the tree branches it was hanging from and shaking out dozens of leaves.
The girls began to shriek and shout, and it wasn't long before Draco felt something hit him from the jungle floor below. The priestess' followers were throwing anything they could find that hadn't been used to set up the spell, from empty bottles to tree branches and rocks. "Ow," said Harry.
"Keep swinging!" cried Draco. The trees were all reasonably close together, and he was already in reach of a strong looking specimen. "Just a little further." He stretched out with his free hand, reaching for the nearest adjacent tree to grab onto.
Harry threw all his body weight backwards, then forwards, giving them that little bit more momentum. Draco's hand wrapped around a twisted bit of bark, but their weight and the weight of the net pulled them back again.
"Harry!" he cried as they swung back again, more debris hitting them from below as the girls' screams got louder. Harry threw himself forward at the net reached the tree again, and between them the boys managed to grab hold.
"Cut us out!" yelled Harry, but Draco was already angling himself with Ric's sword raised.
The priestess' chanting was becoming louder, and at least half the girls had abandoned catapulting objects at the boys to join in with her, humming to accompany her droning, alien words.
"Hurry up," said Harry as Draco slashed at the ropes above their heads.
"I know," said Draco tersely. Chop, chop, chop. Rope frayed and bark splintered, and still the woman below swayed and chanted. "Watch out!"
Draco gave one final thwack of Ric's sword, and suddenly the net released them. He grunted and hugged the tree, Harry by his side, their legs flailing, their bodies slipping. Like a mouth opening wide, the net swung away from them to hang limply in the middle of the pathway again, and the girls screamed and wailed in anger.
"Great," said Draco, sweat pouring down his face as he re-sheathed the sword and grabbed the tree trunk with both hands. "Now what?"
A strange smell hit his nose, and he jerked his head down to the forest floor. The girls who hadn't joined in with the humming yet looked pretty pleased with themselves, because they'd set the tree they were hanging from on fire.
Draco swore, and looked around frantically for an escape. Harry slipped further down the knotted bark, his trainers unable to get a proper grip on his side of the tree. "We have to move," he said, "that'll be on us in no time."
Draco didn't fancy being burned alive, but he could already feel the heat coming from the flames. He sized up the nearest trees. Something shiny caught his eye several meters away on the jungle floor, but he didn't have the time to wonder what it was. "Jump!" he said to Harry, jutting his chin at the most likely one for him, then angled his body to launch at the one by himself.
He coiled the energy in his legs and sprang, grabbing the fresh bark with his fingertips and slamming his feet down. But Godric's sword snagged on a vine, catapulting him off target and ripping his hands off the tree.
"Draco!" he heard Harry bellow as he tumbled down, hitting tree branches as he snatched desperately for anything his could find purchase on. The sky and the ground swung over and below with sickening speed, but suddenly his hand wrapped around a branch and he wrenched to a halt, his whole body bouncing only a few feet from the ground as the branch bowed under his weight.
With a heartfelt grunt he dropped himself to the ground, still dizzy from the fall, but the voodoo girls were already converging on him, malice in their eyes and makeshift weapons in their hands. They snarled and brandished bits of flint on sticks and ropes with rocks tied to the end.
"Whoa," said Draco, holding up his hands and stumbling back into the tree he'd just fallen down. "Wait a minute, let's just-"
But the first girl lashed out with her rope, causing Draco to duck aside. The priestess was still chanting, and the tree they'd lit on fire was roaring and spitting out embers. It would only be a matter of minutes before the whole jungle caught alight.
Draco really didn't want to fight a bunch of girls, but they really wanted to fight him as they rushed forwards, screeching. He took a deep breath, reminded himself that this was Limbo and it was only as real as he wanted it to be, and unsheathed the Sword of Gryffindor.
The girls all stopped, stunned, the whites of their eyes huge as the light bounced off the blade, shinning on their faces.
And then they bolted. In a flurry of limbs they vanished behind leaves and branches, and all that was left was the remnants of the spell they had brought with them. That, and their priestess.
She was so deep in her trance though, Draco wasn't even sure she had noticed. He didn't stop to ponder it though, and with a roar he raced over to the priestess, ready to separate her head form her body. He vaulted over the candles, swung the blade around and threw all his weight behind the blow.
Unfortunately, all he hit was some kind of invisible barrier around the witch, and he ricocheted so violently off this he went flaying backwards into hot wax, sharp bones and slippery entrails.
This did, however, succeed in getting the priestess' attention. Her head snapped up and her red eyes fixed on Draco, a snarl curling her lip upwards.
"Draco!" called Harry from half way down his tree. "You messed up her spell, kick some more things around!"
The Rhansyk bared her rotten teeth at him like an animal, but Draco was more scared of what she could do with her ingredients rather than her bare hands. He propped himself up on his elbows, and flicked a red candle over with his finger.
"Whoops," he said, raising his eyebrows.
The priestess bound to her dry and cracked feet, but instead of attacking Draco or reaching for her disturbed ingredients, she began loping around the circle picking up items that had already been in use, as well as ones the girls had left lying around.
"Oi!" said Draco, trying to get her attention as he scrambled up and threw about some more of her ingredients. "Over here!" But she just laughed.
"You no touch me," she cried in a sing-song voice, bobbing back and forth as she grabbed a handful of feathers. "Me a twist and crack dem bones." She wagged her finger at the him, edging backwards on bent legs. "Den me catch sum girls, crack dem bones an make a pot oh eats um um." She licked her lips and Draco almost felt sorry for the girls that had abandoned her.
Her eyes glowed red as she took another step backwards, then picked up some chicken feet from the ground.
"She's doing another spell," Harry said, finally dropping down from his tree and skirting around the raging fire. "We have to stop her."
"But we can't do magic," said Draco, frustrated. "So we can't get past the shield."
"Why can't we do magic?" countered Harry angrily. "I've never heard of such a thing, how is she blocking us?"
The priestess was determinedly ignoring them, slowly hunting through her wrecked ingredients, picking up this and that as she chanted.
Harry's eyes suddenly widened, and he turned his back to her to lean into Draco. "She has to set up all that stuff to do her magic, right?" he hissed urgently.
"Yeah," Draco whispered back with a nod. "She has to set up like a shrine…" He trailed off as his eyes lit up.
"We have to find it," said Harry, but Draco was already shaking his head.
"I saw it," he whispered, not believing his luck. "At least I think so, I saw something shiny, in the undergrowth."
Harry glanced at the chanting witch. "Go," he breathed. "I'll hold her off."
"Good luck," said Draco, and without another look at her, raced in the direction he really hoped he'd seen the light reflecting from the jungle floor.
"You run boy!" heckled the priestess. "Me a catch you, you no hide!"
He ignored her as Harry started shouting back, and, from the sounds of it, throwing things about. The last thing Draco made out as he disappeared into the trees was her screeching at him to give something back.
He tried to remember what direction he'd been looking in from the top of his tree, and how far out he needed to run, but with another half a dozen trees caught alight now it was making it very difficult to see. He stumbled between trees as lemurs ran squawking from the fires, coughing and rubbing smoke from his eyes. He slashed at the greenery with Godric's sword, but it wasn't long before he realised he must have gone too far and doubled back. He thought he could hear some kind of shouting but the fire and dense foliage was muffling anything it might have been, making it incomprehensible.
"Come on," he willed, panic rising in his throat. Every second he wasted Harry was in danger, and he himself if she completed that spell. Every shimmering drop of condensation reflecting off of leaves and petals caught his eye, and with every false alarm his frustration grew.
He yanked several large leaves aside, and ran straight into Harry.
"Whoa!" he cried, jumping away from the sword.
"Where is she?" Draco replied, lowering the blade and looking frantically around.
Harry smiled. "No idea," he said, shot out his hand with inhuman strength, grabbed Draco's throat and kicked Godric's sword out of his hand.
Draco gagged in shock, clawing at Harry's fingers. "Harry!" he managed to gurgle, barely able to breathe. "Let go!"
The sound of laughter rumbled in his ear. "He be mine now," gloated the priestess dropping from a tree. She waved a crude doll made from twigs at Draco as he spluttered and gasped, but even as his vision began to blur, he could see the tiny red bolt of lightning on the doll's head.
She'd cast some sort of Imperius Curse, and was controlling Harry like a puppet on a string. "Harry!" Draco grunted, feeling sick. He pounded on his friend's arms. "Fight it!"
They locked eyes as the priestess swung from a branch, enjoying watching Draco choke to death. "Har-ry Pott-ah no hear you," she sang. "He listen only to me now, yesum."
Draco was throwing all his strength into prying Harry's fingers from his gullet, but even so breathing was frighteningly difficult. "Harry," he rasped again. "Harry it's Draco, I'm your friend, you don't want to do this."
"Oh ho," laughed the priestess, twisting upside down on her tree branch and patting the voodoo doll's head. "But me do, me like watch you suffer, human."
Draco was finding it harder to fight the dizziness off. "No," he whimpered. "You've fought this before, you can't let her control you."
Harry blinked.
"Harry?" Draco wiggled as his friend's face rearranged into confusion and then horror. Draco strained against his fingers again.
"I can't stop it!" cried Harry as his fingers squeezed down. He may have got his mind and speech back, but his body was still very much in control of the priestess. "Draco, I can't," he panicked. "You have to fight back!"
"No boy!" snapped the priestess, banging the doll on the head and making Harry flinch. "No listen to him, listen to me!"
Draco grappled weakly with his failing arms, but Harry shook his head.
"Kick me!" he yelled, as the priestess growled and dropped back to the ground. Draco summoned every bit of energy he had left and channelled it into his trainer, bringing it down on Harry's foot, his heel driving into his toes with a painful crunch.
Draco felt horribly guilty as his friend went bug-eyed and choked out a guttural moan, but his fingers loosened ever so slightly, and Draco wrenched himself free, shoving Harry to the floor.
"NO!" screamed the priestess as he stumbled away and Harry shook on the ground, unable to control his arms enough to reach his foot to hold, but it was clear he was in pain. The Rhansyk launched at Draco, clawing with talon-like nails and biting with her rotten teeth, but her shield just slammed into Draco with unnatural power, sending him flying into something heavy that toppled over and rained all over him as he hit the jungle floor. He was too stunned for a second to realise he was covered in blood, bones, crushed up leaves and more than a few eyeballs.
The priestess looked horrified at her destroyed voodoo shrine, but Draco found his face lighting up with delight.
He seized his wand from his pocket, the warmth of the spell in his fingers before the word even left his mouth.
"Expulso!" he bellowed.
The spell hit the shield around the priestess, giving it a lovely pink colour before it exploded like a shattering window. She roared again, scrambling over the ground to grab for Draco. He tripped over himself and the two of them rolled to the floor. He was dizzy and could barely breath after the damage his windpipe had sustained, but adrenaline was pumping through his veins, giving him something left to fight with, and he landed a punch on her face, smearing her white make-up.
The Rhansyk punched back, but Draco was bigger and managed to roll them over so she was underneath and slammed his fist into her face another couple of times. She wiggled her knees up and kicked him off, slamming him into the dirt, but he spied Godric's sword, and leapt to his feet to try and reach it. She screamed out, and wasted no time in lunging for a sharp bit of flint to slash at Draco's face.
He scrambled away, shoving her and tripping over his own feet. Harry was still immobilised on the floor from the voodoo spell, but Draco couldn't help him just yet. He seized Godric's sword from the ground and wield around but he stopped mid-air.
She had Harry's voodoo doll back in her hand again, the sharp flint poised at its throat. Draco's eyes flicked to Harry to see a thin trickle of blood running down his neck from the flint on the doll. She laughed her deep rumble again. "You no win, Dray-co Mal-foy," she cooed, bobbing up and down again. "Me is gonna guts sum boys and have them for eats."
"Is that so?" asked Draco. She didn't seem to realise his wand was still in his hand.
"Accio doll!" he shouted, and the twigs went flying from her hand. She wailed with indignation, and dove for him, brandishing the flint.
It was no match for the Sword of Gryffindor though.
In one wide swing, Draco hurtled the blade around his body, and took her head clean off her shoulders.
It bounced along the jungle floor, and he body crumpled in a lumpy heap of gore, dust and stitching. Draco watched it, breathing heavily, and rubbed where Harry's fingers had made his neck tender and sore. Harry coughed and spluttered, grabbing Draco's attention again. He dropped to the floor to see if his friend was okay.
"Harry I'm so sorry," he said as the other boy curled up in shook. Draco dropped his sword and tried to comfort him, but eventually Harry began to relax of his own accord. "I didn't know how to stop you?" Draco rasped. "Are you alright now?"
Harry shook his head. He didn't seem to be able to talk through his coughing, but he was reaching out, jabbing Draco's shoulder.
"What?" asked Draco, trying to take his hand, but Harry pulled it away and jabbed it again. He was pointing.
"Watch-" he gasped, his eyes wide. "Watch out!"
Draco twisted on the spot, but he was too late. Something smashed into his face, and his consciousness lost out to black oblivion.
xxx
"Of course they're Death Eaters," said Hermione in angry incredulity. She stood and moved into the centre of the pub floor, away from the window. "There's a horrible scheme going on, why did I think it could possibly be anyone else."
"But," said Terry, following her to stand by the bar. "I thought there weren't any Death Eaters any more, that they were all arrested after You-Know-Who was killed last year."
"If your world is anything like mine," said Hermione, propping herself up on the bar and fiddling with a beer mat. "A lot of people will have played the Imperius card, pretended to have been coerced into doing what they did to escape Azkaban."
Terry swore and took his beanie hat off to wring it out again. The water seemed unnaturally loud as it splattered on the old carpet. "This isn't good."
"They're definitely controlling the zombie people," said Sarah, who was still crouched by the window, watching the activity outside.
"Maybe you should come away from the window?" suggested Hermione, another wave of nausea washing over her and almost taking her vision away.
"They can't see me," replied Sarah defiantly. "And I want to see what's going on."
Hermione was too tired to argue. She turned and rested both her elbows on the bar, dropping her head into her hands. She felt Terry's hand on her back, and it made her jump.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly. Hermione took two deep, long breaths before standing up again.
She wanted to lie, she wanted to say she was fine, but if she was honest she couldn't remember ever feeling this sick. "No," she croaked. "No I don't think I am."
Terry wasted no time in grabbing the nearest chair and steering her into it. "Sit," he instructed, then vaulted over the bar despite there being a perfectly good stable door for him to use.
He used that route on the way out however, as he was carrying a pint of tap water that he held in front of Hermione's face. "Drink that," he instructed, and she took it gratefully. It was the most wonderful thing she'd ever tasted.
"There's three of them now," said Sarah, her gaze still determinedly outside. "I think one of them's in charge, but they're all able to keep the zombies away that that shield spell."
"Wish we knew that one," muttered Terry as he ruffled his hair and pulled his hat back on. Hermione shivered; they may have been inside now but her clothes were still cold and wet.
"You couldn't," she said, feeling stupid and helpless not being able to do it herself.
"Couldn't what?" asked Terry kindly, turning back to her.
She shivered again, and hugged herself. "Um, dry me off, if you don't mind?"
"Of course," said Terry in a tone that suggested he was cross with himself for not thinking of that before. "Tergeo" he said, using the spell first on her, then himself, then Sarah. He'd improved since he tried to use it back at the house, and Hermione smiled a little.
"What makes you think someone's in charge?" she asked Sarah, who turned around to face her proudly.
"He keeps shouting, and the others just bowed and ran away from him."
"Delightful," said Terry. "So, here's the million Galleon question – why have they turned your town into Zombieland?"
Hermione shook her head then rubbed her temple. "It makes no sense. I mean, the people aren't really dead, though they will be if they're left to their own devices. But if that was their goal then why not just kill everyone outright."
"And remember the whole Dimensional Leap coincidence," said Sarah, her nose pressed back up against the window. Without any lights on in the pub she was silhouetted by what little light was coming in from the twilight outside.
Hermione felt like her brain was full of fog. Sarah was right, there had to be a reason why the Death Eaters had cursed the town like this and it had to be linked to the dimension swapping. But as to what that was, she really had no clue. She felt so angry at her body for letting her down like it was doing, of all the times to get the flu this really was the worst. She rested her head on her arms, and half listened as Sarah and Terry continued theorising.
"Perhaps it's like they've taken the town hostage," said Sarah, unsure. "Perhaps they wanted Harry to tell them something about swapping realities."
"Hmm," said Terry, unconvinced. "We haven't seen anyone until now. Surely if they'd been on the lookout for Harry, they would have pounced on us the second we got to the town square."
"Yeah," sighed Sarah. "I guess you're right."
"Hermione?"
"Huh?" she raised her head, expecting to see Terry.
But it was Seamus Finnigan sitting next to her.
"Seamus!" she cried, stunned, and whipped her head around to see Terry was standing, pensive, and Sarah was still looking out the window. They didn't seem to have noticed his arrival, and she spun back round. "But, what?"
Seamus grabbed her hand. His skin was cool, and unlike them he did not look like he'd braved a monsoon to get inside the pub. "It's okay," he said hurriedly. "You're asleep, this was the only way I could talk to you."
"But," said Hermione, blinking and trying to get her thoughts straight. "You're dead, in this world, aren't you?"
"Absolutely," agreed Seamus, giving her hand a little squeeze. "I haven't got long, so I can't explain properly, but I know Sarah told you about a man she met in Limbo, called Alex."
Hermione frowned and nodded. "Yes, she said he looked after my universe, like a guardian."
"Watcher," Seamus corrected. "That's right, and that's what I am, I'm the Watcher of this world."
"Because you're dead?" Hermione clarified.
He nodded. "So now I'm in Limbo, with your Harry and the Draco of this world."
Hermione looked at him, stunned. "Okay," she said, trying to process what he was saying, as fast as she could. "And Sarah said they have to stop the world from ending, all the worlds."
"Yes," said Seamus. "But I need your help, you have to-"
He stopped short, a look of horror dawning on his face. "Hermione," he said, very carefully. "Hermione where's your necklace? The one with the key on it, where is it?"
Hermione's hand flew to her neck, and realised he was right. The key was gone, but the skin was still sore from the large scratch she had. "Oh no," she groaned, and looked up at him. "I must have lost it when we went over the fence, I got scratched by a branch or something."
Seamus dropped his head onto the table with a loud thud, making her wince. He let out a string of what sounded like Gaelic profanities.
"Was it important?" she asked tentatively.
Seamus raised his head. "You know what Sarah said about the Horcrux, the bit of Voldemort's soul?"
"Yes," said Hermione, frowning. Until realisation hit her. "That was it, wasn't it? The Horcrux is in the necklace?"
Seamus nodded. "Almost certainly. And you have to destroy it, otherwise Harry will never be able to defeat his Voldemort. It's powering him over here in Limbo, but if you get rid of it he will be vulnerable."
Hermione rubbed the tender scratch. "Sorry," she said genuinely. "I'm pretty sure I know where it is though."
"Okay," said Seamus, business-like. "Well when you get it, it will take some effort to destroy it."
Hermione couldn't help but look around at her companions, now talking quietly by the window. "In case you hadn't noticed," she said, a little exasperated. "We're sort of in the middle of something here."
"Tell me about it," said Seamus. "But believe me when I tell you that finding and decimating the Horcrux is your top priority."
Hermione deflated and leant on her hand. "Fine, so how do we do that?"
"It has to be beyond magical repair," said Seamus. "So something like Fiendfyre, Elven Titanium, magical poison."
Hermione threw up her hands. "Okay," she said, "I get the idea."
"The quicker you can do it, the better," said Seamus, deadly serious. "Harry and Draco are already on their way to try and find the Voldemorts, the Horcruxes must be destroyed by the time they engage.
Hermione felt a heavy coldness settle in her chest. "Right," she said. "I understand. Have you told Ron this too?"
Seamus managed a laugh. "Trying to," he admitted. "He's not exactly in a position to just have a quick nap either."
"But is he okay?" Hermione asked, anxious. She had no idea what kind of reality he'd landed himself in.
"He's still alive," said Seamus sincerely. "Now it's probably time you woke up and started looking for that necklace."
"But-"
"Hermione," he interrupted, upset. "I'm sorry but there's just no time, I promise he and Harry are doing okay and I'm helping them as much as I can."
She nodded, disappointed but accepting. "Sure," she said. "Thanks so much Seamus."
"Don't mention it," he said, saluting. "Just doing my job."
Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "Are you...happy?"
Seamus considered a moment. "When the whole Multiverse isn't threatening to fall apart, yeah." He smiled. "I love it. Now wake up."
"Okay," she laughed.
Nothing happened.
"You're still here?" she said, confused.
Seamus looked around. "Well you're still asleep."
"How do I wake myself up then?" countered Hermione. "I've never had to do this before – this seems real to me."
Seamus thought for a moment. "I've got an idea." He stood up suddenly.
"Wha-" Hermione spluttered as he grabbed her shoulders.
"Goodbye," he said with a wink. "And good luck." He shoved Hermione over, so she and her chair went crashing to the floor.
"Yah!" she screamed as she hit the floor and woke up. Seamus vanished, but Terry and Sarah spun around and ran to her side.
"Hermione!" cried Sarah, her hands fluttering over her body to check she was okay. Terry tried to sit her upright, but she pushed him away, the nausea finally overcoming her, and she vomited all over the floor.
"Whoa!" yelped Terry, jumping away from the mess as she heaved again, acid burning the back of her throat.
"Water," she gasped, feeling the worst of it was over. Sarah grabbed her half finished glass from the table as Terry used his Tergeo spell to siphon up the sick and dispense of it down the sink behind the bar.
"Are you okay?" fretted Sarah as Hermione gulped down several mouthfuls of water.
"Actually," she said, taking a couple of deep breaths. "I feel much better."
"Well that's one thing," said Terry cheerfully. "Did you nod off?"
Hermione sighed, the conversation with Seamus still fresh in her mind. "If only," she said, then proceeded to repeat everything that he'd told her.
"Seamus is a Watcher?" asked Sarah.
"The necklace was the Horcrux the whole time?" moaned Terry.
Sarah shook her head. "I don't even remember you having one on?" she admitted to Hermione.
She touched the scratch again. "I'm almost certain it got torn off when we jumped the fence at your parents' house."
"Damn," said Terry flatly.
"So, what do we do?" asked Sarah. "Go back to the house?"
"I guess so," said Hermione taking another mouthful of water. "We have to find it, and then we have to find one of those ways to destroy it."
"To do which," said Terry grimly. "We're going to have to get out of the town, unless your parents have some forks made from Elven Titanium?"
"I highly doubt it," said Sarah. She shook her head, then threw her shoulders back. "Okay, I think we have to split up then."
"What?" snapped Terry, but she held her hands up.
"Unless either of you remember your way back to my house, I should go find the necklace, whilst you two try and stop whoever's casting the zombie spell."
"You shouldn't go alone," argued Hermione.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "You haven't got a wand and you're sick as a dog, so you can't be left alone. I think it's better you stay with Terry in the town rather than trek through the rain again, and – sorry to be rude – you'll only slow me down."
"But," said Terry, conflicted. "You're just a kid."
Sarah barked a laugh. "Really? You might want to remind the universe of that at some point then." She stood up, resolution clear on her face. "As soon as I have it, I'll come back to the town and find you."
"Well," said Hermione, trying to overrule her guilt at letting a thirteen year old face a hoard of zombies alone with the knowledge that she took down the Wrangler queen and her swarm almost single-handedly. "Hopefully by that time we'll have broken the curse."
Sarah nodded, and without another word scampered over to the front door, and out into the rain.
Hermione watched the door swing gently shut, then turned to Terry. "Okay then," she sighed. "So where do we start."
"Not that way!" cried Sarah, slamming back through the door, spraying rainwater everywhere. "Back door, back door!"
Hermione shot to her feet as Sarah raced across the pub and through the door by the bar. Several zombies were stumbling through the front door, moaning and pawing at the air with their hands. Blue sparks jumped from one body to the next as they pushed their way inside.
"Run!" shouted Terry a little unnecessarily, and he and Hermione tore after Sarah. They hit the door and darted into the kitchen space. Without electricity none of the appliances were on making the room spooky and lifeless. Compared to what Hermione knew was behind them though, it seemed tranquil.
Sarah hit the back door and stopped to check if the coast was clear, meaning Hermione and Terry could catch up with her. It was hard to tell in the rain and the night time that had now settled, but there didn't seem to be anybody covered in blue lightning waiting for them in the alleyway.
"I'll go this way," said Sarah, jerking her head to the right. "Probably best if you go left, more into the town."
"Okay," said Terry as the zombies began pawing at the kitchen door. "Good luck, you take care of yourself okay?"
Sarah smiled, stood on her tip toes to give him a little kiss on the cheek, then sprinted off out of sight.
"Let's go," said Hermione as the first zombie managed to get the door behind them open. She ran out into the deluge with Terry by her side. They'd only gone about ten feet before she caught sight of a blue crackle further down the alley. She threw her hand into Terry's chest, but he'd already seen it.
"We shouldn't have stayed still for so long," he said ruefully. "Here, this way."
He nipped forward and grabbed the handle of another back door. It was locked but he soon opened it with a quick 'Alohomora' spell, and the two of them shot inside.
Once he'd lit his wand, he slammed the door shut behind them and she realised they were in some kind of storage room, piled high with cardboard boxes. Silently, they crept forwards, eyes roaming for any cursed people lurking in the shadows. The room smelled of compost and made Hermione feel a little light headed, although she was most certainly feeling a great deal better since throwing up her breakfast.
They reached another door and Terry slowly eased it open. It lead into a florists teaming with colourful bouquets, pot plants and trays of flowers, though thankfully no sign of any zombies.
"Okay," said Hermione as they eased their way inside. "What now?"
Terry shook his head. "We need to try and find the person casting this spell, how would they being doing it? Where would be the best kind of place for them to be set up?"
"Um," said Hermione, wiping rainwater from her face. "Well, they'd need a cauldron I guess, and to be affecting this many people I would imagine they'd need to be in a wide open space, so there's minimum interference."
Terry nodded, eyebrows raised hopefully. "Wide open space is much better than hidden away in some basement or something."
But Hermione shook her head. "They'll almost certainly be camouflaged, at least that's what I would do."
Terry cocked his head at her. "You have some secret Death Eater training I don't know about?"
"No," snapped Hermione. "I just have a brain in my head. They wouldn't want to risk the spell caster being interrupted."
"Excuse me Miss Know-It-All," said Terry in a sing-song voice, and moved to the glass-fronted entrance to the shop. "May I suggest then, that we go and try to find some wide open spaces, then throw rocks around to see if they bounce off thin air?"
"Or we could try a revealing charm," said Hermione. "Or rather you could."
"It kills you," said Terry, peering out the window. "Not having a wand, doesn't it?"
"Like I've lost a limb," said Hermione through gritted teeth. What a stupid thing to ask. "Let's go alright, before any more zombies find us."
"Oh I think there'll be plenty of zombies out there to chase after us," said Terry in a mock cheery tone.
"Jolly good," breathed Hermione, and ventured out into the rain.
They were in the middle of a parade of shops, standing on a pavement that was separated from the road by a low hedge and lamp posts with dilapidated hanging baskets swinging on wrought iron brackets. Hermione crouched down near the shrubbery and ran along the path away from the pub and the florists. There were zombies on the road, and one stuck inside a hardware store they rushed past, but Hermione hoped it was too dark for the cursed people to really notice them.
At the end of the row, the two students stopped, squatted in the rain and surveyed their surroundings. They were on a main road still, and another road crossed with it here. There was an Indian restaurant on the corner opposite them, and across the road a bike shop and another pub.
There were numerous abandoned cars in the road and plenty of people drudging around them, moaning over the rain and tripping over curbs. Not for the first time Hermione felt desperately sorry for them, and furious at the people who had cursed them.
"Try the spell," she urged Terry through chattering teeth. If she got through this, she promised herself a long, hot bath. With bubbles.
Terry took a quick look around. "Homenum Revelio," he said.
If there was anyone hiding under an invisibility charm, that would in theory show Hermione and Terry where they were, but Hermione wasn't sure it had even worked.
"That's not...quite the motion," she said as tactfully as she could.
Terry raised an eyebrow. "No," he said. "There's just no Death Eaters hiding at these crossroads."
Hermione grimaced. "I'm not saying there are, but let me show you." She reached out for his wand, but he pulled his arm back, scrutinizing her. Hermione sighed, aware they were still very much surrounded by zombies. "Please?" she added.
Terry raised an eyebrow, but handed his wand over all the same. "It's a sweeping motion," she said eagerly. She drew both her arms out with a flourish, like a conductor of an orchestra, and brought them together again in a similar fashion. "Homenum Revelio."
The spell let off the faintest of pulses, like a glittery silver ring powering through the rain, which it had not done for Terry. Still no one became visible, but Hermione was at least satisfied this time that they'd covered the area properly.
"Alright smarty pants," said Terry, a rueful smile as he snatched his wand back. "I'll try your way next time."
At that moment, a zombie nurse stumbled into the hedge, and swung her arms out over Hermione and Terry's heads, trying to reach them. Hermione couldn't help but let out a little shriek and jolted to her feet, running down the road with Terry by her side.
"Where now!" he cried as more zombies turned around and began paying attention to them. Thunder rumbled overhead, giving Hermione goose bumps.
"We need to lose them!" she called back as a man bumbled from around one of the cars. Hermione guessed he must have been a butcher by trade, as he wore a white apron covered in smears of blood that sent shivers down her spine. "Look out!"
She and Terry backed up and scrambled over the bonnet of the nearest car to change directions. There was a field to their left, bordered with evergreen trees, or thicker trees if they crossed over the road. "There?" she asked, pointing to the denser trees.
"More cover," said Terry with a nod, and sprinted across the lanes of the dual carriage way in between cars, ducking down to try and shake the zombies now following them. Hermione stuck on his tail, breathing hard against the freezing rain. It was like being in a maze, one wrong move and they would come face to face with another zombie from behind a people carrier or jeep.
They couldn't get straight across the road because of the way the vehicles had been abandoned, and they kept seeing zombie feet under the chassis' forcing them to wind more and more around the cars, trying to avoid bumping into unpleasantness. Hermione's heart was hammering against her ribcage as the cursed townsfolk closed in, cornering them.
"Quick," said Terry, rolling under a bus just ahead of them. Hermione did the same, covering her clothes, skin and hair in a film of exhaust fumes and dirt from the tarmac. She crawled all the way under, careful that her feet weren't showing near the edge.
Terry put his finger to his lips indicating they should be as quiet as they could, to which Hermione nodded enthusiastically. They squirmed into the middle of the bus as the number of feet congregating around it increased. Please, Hermione begged silently. Please don't think to look down. The feet shuffled, in what she imagined to be distress at having lost their quarry, and there were several bangs on the bus. She breathed in and out as calmly as she could, tasting the rain in the air and the dirt from the road. Please, she thought again, closing her eyes in an attempt to stay calm.
Something touched her hand and she jumped, eyes flying open. But it was only Terry, taking it in his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. She managed a smile back, and he continued with his grip as she watched the feet. There were trainers and wellies and heels and slippers, all in varying sizes and colours. The contact between their two hands soothed her nerves, and Terry even went so far as to rub his thumb on her knuckles.
A brown pair of large men's brown shoes turned slowly on the spot, then began to shuffle away. Hermione squeezed Terry's hand and pointed excitedly with her free one. Then a small pair of white trainers did the same, wondering off in pursuit of other interests.
Hermione waited with baited breath, and slowly, but surely, the zombies began to leave the bus alone. She breathed out in relief, and smiled genuinely at Terry, who grinned back.
But that was before the dog appeared. It was a Jack Russell Terrier, small with close cropped white and brown fur. It rippled with blue electricity, and locked it's white, lifeless eyes with Hermione's.
"Go!" hissed Terry frantically, and the two of them began shuffling their way out from under the bus. The Jack Russell let out a chilling moan, baying at the moon behind the rainclouds, then tried to stumble under the bus.
"Bad dog!" yelled Terry, waving his hands at the fumbling terrier. "Get lost!"
Hermione considered telling him to shut up as she rolled back out into the rain, but the dog had already re-caught the attention of the zombies that had been wondering off. "Come on!" she cried, grabbing his arm to help him up, and without pause they began sprinting as fast as their legs could manage towards the trees, trying to capitalise on the zombies' confusion as they turned back around.
They zig-zagged around cars, crossing lanes and scrambling up the grassy bank towards the trees. But the ground was muddy and more water than dirt in some places, and Hermione's feet in Terry's trainers slapped around uselessly. "Ah!" she cried and she slid backwards and pin-wheeled her arms, but Terry seized her hand and dragged her up into the tree line.
"At lease that should slow those guys down too," said Terry, jerking his head at the slowly walking townspeople. "Give us some time."
"We need another open space," gasped Hermione, breathing hard against the rain. "Now."
Terry shrugged as they hurried further into the trees. At least the canopy gave them a little relief from the downpour. "I guess we carry on the same way?" he said. Hermione didn't have a better idea, so keeping a few meters in from the verge, they hurried along the roadside, keeping their eyes open for any blue electricity in the gloom. Now night had fallen and there were no lampposts to illuminate their way, the two of them found themselves very much in the dark. She wished she'd thought to pick up a map of the town when they were back at the corner shop, but she hadn't figured on Sarah leaving them, or Terry's intervention.
By moonlight, they managed to find a field with some blissfully unaware horses and a car park by a small industrial estate, but the revealing spell showed them nobody in either.
"This could take forever," moaned Terry as they trudged on, still beside the road.
"What choice do we have?" asked Hermione. Her forehead was so hot it felt like she was evaporating the rain as it hit her. "We don't lift the curse, we can't get out, all these people die and we can't destroy the Horcrux. We just have to keep at it, and hope we get lucky soon."
Terry grunted and extinguished his wand, and they picked their way through the trees as the rainclouds blew over the moon, dappling them in light and shadow. They were silent for a while.
There weren't any zombies along this stretch of road, probably because there weren't any buildings or homes nearby, but still they kept to foliage for safety. Even if it meant risking a twisted ankle.
"It's funny, isn't it?" said Terry after a while. "What difference a day can make."
"Tell me about it," grunted Hermione. "It was all so simple this morning; do the spell, send Draco and Sarah home, go back to real life."
"And now you're here."
Hermione suppressed an hysterical little laugh. "In Zombieland."
Terry chewed on that whilst they tried the spell on another field, this one with several zombified cows stumbling about in. "Is your world completely different then?"
Hermione sighed. She wasn't sure she really wanted to talk about it, but seeing as the spell failed yet again she supposed she could tell him a little while they walked. She made sure not to drop her guard for zombies or Death Eaters though. The last thing they needed was anymore surprises.
"Harry killed You-Know-Who as a baby," she said, tiredly. "That's the main one. But not before You-Know-Who killed his parents, so he didn't know who he was growing up. He didn't even know he was a wizard."
"How?" asked Terry, incredulous.
"His aunt and uncle are horrid," said Hermione simply. "But then he found out, came to the school, and since then it seems like he's been fending off You-Know-Who until his return last summer. But then Draco fought him, and..." she trailed off.
"And now he's in Limbo," filled in Terry. "Yeah, that stuff I get, but what about you?"
"Me?" she said, picking her way through some scratchy heather. Terry jerked his hands up as it flicked back in his face. "Whoops," she said sincerely. "Sorry."
But Terry didn't seem bothered. "You're quite different here," he said.
"Am I?" asked Hermione surprised. "You're not."
Terry stopped and considered that a moment. "Huh," he said, a satisfied smile on his face. "But, yes, you act different, and you said you look different too."
Hermione found herself intrigued despite her best efforts, and once again her thoughts strayed back to that kiss Draco had bestowed on her. "Yeah," she said, nodding. "I heard that." Nature verses nurture perhaps? What made her different from her doppelganger?
"From Draco?" Terry piped up. "Are you two an item in your world too?"
"No!" Hermione couldn't help but cry out loud, but then she slapped her hands over her mouth. Despite her best intentions, she'd stopped paying attention to the road, and there were several zombies wondering around on the tarmac again. At her outburst, a few of them slowly raised their heads, and began shuffling towards the trees.
"Go!" hissed Terry, and as silently as they could, they ran through the trees once again. Hermione cursed herself for being so careless, but something soon snagged her attention.
There was a roundabout up ahead, with a bridge over the top. The moon had managed to make its way out from between the latest batch of clouds, and from what Hermione could see there were houses again to the left, the continuing road straight ahead, and a smaller road that wound up in front of where the trees came to a clean stop on the right. Zombies were teaming everywhere. It was like a mob at a pop concert, waiting for the band to start, or eager shoppers on their toes for a sale to open.
"This looks promising," she murmured as they came to the tree line. "Remember how they were drawn to the Death Eaters outside the pub? But they had that shield spell protecting them."
Terry nodded, looking left and right. Up the winding road was another deserted car park, but beyond that was a primary school.
"Shall I try the spell on the roundabout?" asked Terry, and Hermione nodded. Nothing came of it, but she was feeling a tingle of anticipation.
"Let's get closer to the school," she said, jutting her chin over to the right. The trees flanked the road as it curled around, so they were still able to stick to the foliage. Zombie men, women and children roamed the tarmac and grass, and surrounded the building. Hermione found herself looking behind her shoulder into the trees every few seconds to check none were creeping up behind them.
There was a playground attached to the school with all kinds of apparatus for children to climb over and hang themselves upside down on. The zombies were congregating here on mass, but it was hard to see if there were any gaps were an invisible spell caster might be stationed. "Try again," Hermione whispered, and Terry did as he was told. The silvery ring pulsated away from them, passing through the oblivious cursed people, but Hermione couldn't tell if they'd managed to reveal any Death Eaters.
"We need a higher vantage point," she said, frustrated.
"And what then?" asked Terry. "What if they're in amongst that hoard, could you really take on a Death Eater?"
Hermione bristled. "Well I don't have a wand," she said. "Do I?"
Terry shook his head, and pressed his into her hands. "Say you did, what would your chances be?"
"With your wand?" She sighed. "Well my Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL wasn't my best, but it's probably still quite advanced compared to the knowledge-"
"No time!" cried Terry, as Hermione turned in horror to realise several zombies were in the trees, advancing towards them. "Get up on that climbing frame, find the wizards and take them down!"
"But-!" They stumbled out of the trees, catching the attention of the zombies on the grass nearest to them. "We don't even know for sure they're here!" shrieked Hermione. "What will you do!"
Terry grinned. "Something reckless." He grabbed her face, kissed her lips, then sprinted away. "HEY!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "HEY, GREATFUL DEAD, LOOK AT ME!"
The zombies perked up at such a noisy target, and began shambling towards him. Hermione was torn between horror, confusion, and just plain ill, but at that moment she remembered the zombies pushing through the trees and ran out in to the rain, hanging back whilst Terry drew them away from the playground.
"Oh please be careful," she said to herself.
"COME AND GET IT, WHILST IT'S HOT!" he cried gleefully, skipping around and running further and further away.
Hermione was stuck in plain sight, she had barely seconds before some of the cursed towns people realised she was just as warm and living, even if she wasn't tearing around a muddy field in her socks screaming.
"COOEEE! BRAIN MUNCHERS!"
She risked one last look at Terry, who was at least ten feet away from the nearest zombie still, then she dashed towards a big wooden climbing frame, complete with ladders, swings, monkey bars and an enclosed tin slide that looked more like a workman's refuse tube. She scaled the ladder, and, not wanting to risk any zombies getting smart, hauled herself up over the monkey bars to stand on top of them. The pelting rain threatened to unbalance her, especially in Terry's oversized Trainers, but she hung on. From here she could see the whole school grounds.
"Homenum Revelio," she said with feeling, flouncing her arms out and in, releasing the silvery pulse.
And this time it worked.
Hermione almost dropped Terry's wand in shock. There, only for a few seconds, was a man, hunkered over a cauldron of bubbling green liquid, utterly ensconced in his chanting and oblivious to the carnage happing around him. Or at least Hermione assumed it was a man, because all she could see was his back, slender and tall. He seemed to be wearing the same black robes as the other Death Eaters, but his head was wrapped up in a large purple turban, so Hermione couldn't even tell his ethnicity.
The spell faded and the man vanished once more, and in the sudden blackness Hermione realized something wasn't right. There were lights bobbing about by the road, and the zombies were wailing particularly loudly in response. There was shouting coming from the lights, and Hermione's insides froze in terror. She spun around, looking for an escape, but there were still zombies all around her, even if they hadn't noticed her atop the monkey bars.
An idea flared in her tired, throbbing head, and before she could reconsider, she dropped down a level, ran across the climbing frame, and dropped into the tin slide. She braced Terry's trainers against the tin sides as best she could, and held onto the lip of the slide. There was still another couple of meters before the slide's base, so unless the zombies leant to climb up the metal she'd be safe.
But more importantly, she could peek out and see who was coming.
Several figures apparently using the same protection shield charm were running amongst the zombies. "You see anything?" one of the black hoods called to another. He pulled it down to unveil a mop of brown hair.
"No," replied his fellow, doing the same and spitting out rainwater. "But I definitely heard something."
"Someone was shouting," concurred a woman with a pitchy voice. "Oi, get off me!" she shooed one of the zombies away, a teenage boy who looked hurt by her rebuff and shuffled off with his head down.
"You're right," came a voice clear and strong, and all the other Death Eaters turned to look at him as he curled his fingers around his hood and lowered it gently, almost relishing as the cold rain hit his face. Hermione was very glad it was raining loudly at that moment, as at the sight of the young man's face she gasped and almost lost her grip on the slide.
Barty Crouch Jr. She'd know that face anywhere. She'd become obsessed with researching him after Harry had uncovered him as Mad Eyed Moody's imposter for nearly year. But their Barty had suffered a Dementor's Kiss, she hadn't even thought he'd be alive in this world.
"We need to find them!" called out the brown haired man, but Crouch, tall and calm, simply turned and gave his cohort a small smile. "I don't think that will be necessary," said Crouch, almost kindly. "Not anymore."
Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as she whipped her head round, eyes squinting desperately in the darkness. But in the end she didn't need to see. All she had to do was listen.
Terry had stopped shouting.