Chapter Six: In Which Snatchers Are Ambushed
But Ron stopped talking, and Harry knew why. The Sneakoscope on the table lit up and begun to spin; they could hear voices coming nearer and nearer: rough, excited voices. Ron pulled the Deluminator out of his pocket and clicked it: Their lamps went out.
"Come out of there with your hands up!" said a rasping voice through the darkness. "We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't care who we curse!"
"Thanks for announcing your arrival," thought Harry, getting over his initial shock.
He immediately grabbed Ron's arm with his left one and Hermione's with his right one. He then Disapparated, pulling them with him.
"What the hell? he said, disoriented.
"I just saved all of our lives," explained Harry, sitting up straight and trying to clear his head. "I said his name and —"
"Harry!" interrupted Hermione, standing up suddenly. "The sword!"
Harry stood up quickly, pulling Ron to his feet. They Apparated to their hiding place. The three ended up right outside their tent.
". . . filthy Mudbloods, looks like," rasped a voice from inside the tent.
"Ain't no self-respecting pureblood witch who'd wear this filth," growled another.
There was the sound of clothes being thrown with a slap against the tent. Hermione squeaked and was quickly silenced by Ron.
"What do we do with that sword, tho'?"
"Sell it for a pile of gold, of course."
They argued about how they were going to split it and then there was only the sound of half a dozen bodies hitting various things around the tent as they fell, unconscious.
"Well. . . . That's that," said Harry, looking around at the now-Stunned wizards. "Blimey, that's Greyback!"
Ron sent a few more Stunners his way. "Making sure he's completely unconscious," he explained. "Werewolves are a bit spell-resistant."
But Harry was sure spell resistance had nothing to do with it. After all, Fenrir Greyback had mutiliated Ron's brother Bill.
"You guys know what we are going to do, right?" asked Harry, grinning wildly.
"Uh — eat something?" suggested Ron.
"No. Ambush these — whatever they're called —"
"Snatchers," Ron supplied.
"Right. We'll ambush these Snatchers using their own methods," said Harry. "We'll interrogate these later, of course."
"Sounds like a plan," said Hermione.
They then proceeded to Disapparate a few miles away from their tent. They then used their wands to create a deep pit around them, leaving only enough space to stand.
"VOLDEMORT!" shouted Harry.
A bunch of Snatchers Apparated, only to find themselves in mid-air. They fell to their deaths.
"That was awesome," said Harry.
"Let me have some of the fun too, mate," said Ron. "VOLDEMORT!"
The same thing happened.
"How long do you reckon it will take for them to realise something's wrong here?" asked Ron as yet another group of Snatchers succumbed to death.
Harry only laughed maniacally in response.
AN: Roses are red, why didn't they Disapparate?
If they had, life would have been great.
There was a spell, it's name was Taboo.
Ambushes were easy, that much is true.
They had magic, into pieces the attackers would have been blown.
Still they surrendered, for reasons unknown.
Voices they heard, plenty of warning they had.
Not fighting them, was kind of sad.