23. The barrel of the gun

The dark façade of the Ministry rose in a maze of towers, crenellations and platforms, the result of hundreds of years of enchantment-guided underground expansion beneath the streets of London.

At a pre-arranged signal, the wizards disapparated from down in the square, reappearing at scattered points all over the Ministry complex. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Myra Tremayne remained down below, guarding the opening to the Ministry alongside Gondulph Belhaine and the Citadel wizards. The magical barrier protecting them from the crowd was rapidly falling apart, making the creation of a new one a necessity. Edmund Glimlatch, until that morning a prisoner in Azkaban, proved to be particularly adept at magical protection, and set quickly to work.

Thirty wizards and witches stood scattered along the Ministry's myriad roofs, ledges and pavements. They looked around, trying to locate one another and survey their positions: seen from above, it was as if the Ministry had spread its black stone tentacles over the streets of central London. Beyond the main hulk of the building, countless appendages had carved new avenues through London's streets, shunting buildings both new and old into new locations.

From where Hermione was standing, she could see the extent of the streets displaced by the raising of the Ministry, and the line of buildings that had been pushed back into the foreground. There was a clear line of division between the darkness that enveloped the Ministry, contaminating even the sky above it, and the daytime that continued unabated in the rest of the city. When she looked down from her ledge some four floors up, she could see that the crowd in the square and the surrounding streets had grown much bigger. Part of the crowd was held behind fortified police cordons, but another part swarmed around the Ministry building at surface level. Some seemed to be searching for a way in, others milling about chaotically, battling with each other or taunting riot police. Smoke rose from the streets, the crowd roared and sirens wailed. They can certainly build a mob quickly.

Mr Morley was standing not far from the Ministry building, watching coolly as a section of the crowd rushed in a wave against its hard, magically reinforced wall. Hermione dropped down to a narrower ledge a couple of floors above the crowd.

'Are you having fun?' she called out in a pleasant voice. He looked up at her and the array of wizards further up the battlements.

'Everything is working out perfectly,' he shouted in reply.

'They'll never get in that way, your little minions,' she replied.

He scowled momentarily.

'But sooner or later we will get in. The cat is well and truly out of the bag. Your secret society is finished. You will all be brought to justice. You especially.'

'Well, you'll have to catch me first,' Hermione replied. 'And it would be a shame to let me get away.' She shifted her foot and a little piece of masonry dislodged itself from the wall and dropped to the ground below, nearly hitting Mr Morley on the shoulder. He stepped away at the last instant then looked up and made a throat slitting gesture to her with his hand, grinning silently as he did so. He quickly spoke with Chloe Goodwin, who was standing next to him. Hermione twisted her head around, looking up the façade. Harry was higher up, some way off to the left. He had seen what was happening. He nodded to Hermione then looked across and gave the same nod to Meredith Dulse, who stood about a floor up from him. The next moment the wizards of the new vow started disapparating from the square below and reappearing themselves on the Ministry. Just as we planned. In unison the Ministry wizards scattered again.

Isaac Edwards stood on the topmost point of the Ministry, a narrow tower that protruded diagonally from an outcrop of building. Rachel stood next to him, holding onto him with one arm and clasping the frame of a doorway that seemingly opened into mid-air.

'When I said I could spot them this wasn't exactly what I had in mind,' she remarked, her voice buffeted by the currents of wind flying about up there.

Isaac looked across her, nodded in agreement but said nothing. He held his wand out at an angle that slanted downward violently. He peered into the chaos far down below on the ground.

'What about him?' he asked, pointing with his wand. 'The man in the black puffer jacket.'

Rachel followed the angle of the wand. Far down below, a man in a black puffer jacket was standing very still on the street, looking up at the Ministry, his hand seemingly moving in his pocket. After a few moments she shot Isaac a quick smile.

'He's one of them. They're forming a perimeter. But the Ministry is so complex they're having trouble identifying the perimeter.'

The countless arms of the Ministry trailed in every direction around the central hulk of the building. Isaac turned 90 degrees anticlockwise and leant out into the brink.

'That could be another,' he shouted over a gust of wind, pointing down the line formed by an extended arm of the Ministry. At the point where the protrusion ended, a small figure was visible, standing in the same stance as the first. Rachel looked more closely then nodded, a look of quiet satisfaction on her face.

'He's one too.'

'So you say they're trying to put up a magical barrier around this whole area?' she asked.

'That's right,' he replied. 'One that detects all magic performed within it. And once it's up and running, they'll expand it to cover as wide an area as possible.'

'We can slow them down I suppose,' she remarked. 'But we can hardly stop them altogether.'

'That's all we can do, slow them down a bit.'

'You'll have to get me closer. I can't really concentrate that well up here.''

'No problem,' he replied.

He seized her hand and they disappeared.

Now they stood on an empty corridor in what appeared to be an office or institution of some sort. At the far end of the corridor was a window. They went swiftly towards it, no one crossing their path.

Isaac threw open the window and looked out into the street. They were just two floors up from street level, looking out onto a street widened about twenty meters by an appendage of the Ministry. Now they could clearly make out the wizard standing impassively about ten metres further up the street, wand in hand, marking what was presumably the furthest extent in that direction of the Ministry complex. The street was quiet, as they were some distance from the main Ministry building and the chaos that surrounded it. Isaac glanced up from the street and scanned the windows on the building opposite.

'See the fourth floor window, up on our left?' he said, pointing to it with his head.

Rachel followed the direction of his gaze. A woman stood at the window, looking down at the man in the street, seemingly just another onlooker on the strange spectacle below.

'Yes, I see her,' said Rachel.

'She's the cover for the fellow down in the street.'

'So that's why you can't just take out your wand and take him out.'

'Exactly.'

She smiled a subtle smile to herself.

'But I suppose no one's covering the cover.'

'Probably not.'

She took a few steps away from the window and kneeled down, her eyes already blind to the waking world.

Isaac stared hard at the woman in the window. Her gaze was equally unflinching, never moving off her fellow wizard in the street below. Suddenly she seemed to lose concentration and turned her head vaguely in their direction. As she did so, Isaac's wand was out in an instant and the wizard in the street hit the ground before the woman had a chance to look back. When he glanced back up at the window, he just had time to see the woman sway back from the window and drop out of sight, her face suddenly white and contorted with pain. He turned and looked at Rachel. She was still kneeling on the ground, motionless and placid, a faint smile on her face. He walked over to her and touched her pale cheek. It burned hot, but her closed eyelids didn't flicker at all. At last she opened her eyes and looked up at him, the tips of his fingers still touching her cheek. There was a languid look in her eyes.

'Did you hurt her?' he said tersely.

'Did you hurt him?' she replied.

He didn't answer.

'Did you enjoy it?' he continued

'Yes.'

He looked at her sadly as he helped her to her feet. Then they were gone from the building.

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked down and saw a pool of blood by his boot. He glanced across at his wand arm and saw a violent gash through his torn and blood-stained robe. The barrier's down again, he noted. The wizard that had attacked him lay sprawled on the shiny black pavement of the square, a few feet away from him. He must have caught me with a curse as he fell. He looked around for Edmund Glimlatch. The wizard was crouched at the foot of the Ministry building, bleeding and injured himself, but still trying to regenerate the barrier. Hearing angry shouts from around the corner, Kingsley drew out his wand again, and stepped forward, wincing slightly as he went.

As he turned the corner a flying piece of debris struck him in the chest, knocking him back against a wall. He looked up to see a mob of about twenty people throwing projectiles at a group of three wizards. Tobias Destrument, Xavier Belhaine, Stanislas Pizzuoli. He knew their names and faces only too well from the list of prisoners sent to Azkaban. We're on the same side, today at least. Stepping out from the protection of the Ministry building, he felt more exposed, but there was no alternative. The vast plaza opened up in front of him, clogged with smoke, debris and bodies. Shaking his head, Kingsley ran forward to join the three wizards, firing magical projectiles of his own over their heads. He had covered half the distance when he suddenly felt someone apparating very near him. He swerved in the direction where he felt a presence, drawing his wand.

'Good afternoon, Minister' said Isaac Edwards as he emerged onto the plaza at Kingsley's side.

'So it seems you do do magic after all,' Kingsley remarked, gesturing at the wand in Isaac's hand.

'Needs must,' Isaac replied swiftly and the two wizards surged forward together.

'How long have we got?' asked Kingsley.

'We managed to break the cordon,' replied Isaac, his low voice barely audible above the din. 'But they started repairing it almost straight away. I think they're using an array.'

'A what?' shouted Kingsley, dodging a rock as it landed barely a foot away from him.

'It's a kind of prototype magical device that in theory magnifies enchantments and widens their target range. Tonight we should get to see how well it works in practice.'

Noting Kingsley's blank face, he added, 'I included it in a report I sent last year to Mr Knott.'

Kingsley shot him a wry smile.

'I must have missed that one. I'll be sure to ask Mr Knott about it when I see him.'

'Let's hope he's not in his office right now,' replied Isaac.

'From now I'll make sure I read all your reports.'

Isaac nodded in reply, a faint smile on his lips. They drew alongside the Citadel wizards.

'Need some help?' said Kingsley to Tobias Destrument.

'Just a bit,' Destrument replied, shooting a quick grin at the Minister. They were about to start trying to drive back the advancing mob when the magical barrier was re-erected between the two sides. Thank goodness for Edmund Glimlatch.

Ginny Weasley could smell scorched hair. Looking down, she could see that the ends of her hair had been singed by a curse. She turned and fired a series of curses of her own, felling a wizard who stood on a ledge about ten feet below her. What did Hermione call them? New vow wizards I think. Despite everything, she found herself feeling surprisingly well disposed towards Hermione. As she looked down, she could make out a small column of redheads bobbing along a passageway some two floors down from her. She dropped the two floors to join them.

By the time Ginny landed she already had three wands pointed at her face. Ron, Dad, Percy. The wands were quickly lowered when they recognised her.

'It is you, isn't it?' said Ron, smirking nervously.

'Just let me hex you and you'll see,' she replied brightly.

'Yeah, that's you all right,' he nodded.

They followed the passageway as it snaked back and forth and climbed and fell, before coming to an abrupt end on a narrow ledge overlooking the street. They had reached a point where one of the Ministry's flanks came close to the ordinary office buildings it had displaced, leaving a narrow gap between the two. Down below a group of people seemed to be trying to smash their way through a side door of the Ministry.

'Do you think they'll manage to break in?' said Ginny, peering over Mr Weasley's shoulder.

'Depends on whether the magical enchantments have been weakened enough,' replied Mr Weasley.

A loud splintering noise reached them from below.

'Sounds like they're making progress,' remarked Percy.

'Well, we need to put a stop to that,' said Ron, pulling out his wand.

But before they could take any action, the attackers found themselves under attack as a girl came rushing out of an alleyway, long red hair flying as she fired off curse after curse, felling half a dozen of the attackers before they had a chance to turn around.

'Is that a Weasley?' said Mr Wealsey.

'Sadly not,' replied Percy. 'That's Argenta Coyle, the witchfinder liaison officer.'

By now the group trying to break into the Ministry had turned on Argenta, who was now dodging rocks and other projectiles as she ran towards the Ministry, making for a gap between two sections of building.

'Where she's making for is a dead end,' said Percy, pointing to the place she was heading for.

'Time to go,' replied Ginny, who was the first off the side of the building. The others followed, swooping down to street level, landing between Argenta and the mob. As they landed she turned and rejoined the fight. The mob was more numerous than they had realised and included wizards as well as muggles. Soon the Weasleys were facing both curses and projectiles. Another section of the mob had split away and was attacking them from the other side.

'They're coming from both sides!' she shouted, dodging to her blind side and firing a pre-emptive curse. The curse caught a gangling shaven-headed man in the arm, causing him to drop the rock in his hand. Argenta turned and helped her to repel the onslaught. She grabbed Ginny's arm.

'Let's try and lead them down that side street,' she said, pointing to a narrow street opposite the Ministry. 'They'll be easier to deal with that way.'

Ginny nodded and the two of them broke away from the main group, sending out a hail of curses as they went.

'What are we doing?' shouted Argenta as they ran.

'This was your idea!' replied Ginny.

'I mean in general, what are we trying to achieve?'

'Defend the Ministry, I suppose,' replied Ginny. 'Or the people inside it anyway.'

'If anyone else has escaped from the Ministry through that opening, they're going to get a nasty surprise when they step into the middle of a riot,' said Argenta. 'I can't say I fancy our chances today. I suppose Hermione knows what she's doing.'

With a rapid curse Ginny floored a rioter brandishing a metal chain. They passed down onto the side street, a section of the mob following closely behind.

'I wouldn't pin your hopes on her,' replied Ginny. Then the two of them turned again, firing curses back down the street. The first wave of attackers went down in the entrance to the street, but more clambered over them where they fell, advancing before Ginny and Argenta could fire again. Leading them was the tall, shaven-headed man Ginny had knocked down earlier. His left arm was dripping blood, but in his right hand he held a gun. Ginny fired a curse to try and knock it out of his hand but missed by a fraction. The man grinned and raised his gun. The two girls froze, staring into the bleak end of the gun.

'Crucio!' came a voice from behind her, full of rage and tinged with hysteria.

The man fell to the ground in front of her, howling in pain, his gun clanging loudly as it hit the pavement.

'Crucio, crucio, crucio!' More men fell, and the remainder turned and backed out of the street at the sight of their comrades writhing in agony on the ground. Ginny turned to look behind her. A skinny man with a dark straggly beard had stepped out from a side street, stripped to the waist and brandishing a wand. A tattoo unmistakable to Ginny crawled up his arm.

'Voldemort lives!' shouted the man.

Ginny scowled at him.

'No he doesn't,' she replied curtly.

The bearded man looked at her with wide eyes.

'In the eyes of the mudbloods, we are all dark wizards,' he stated dramatically. Then he turned abruptly and walked away, without uttering another word.

'Thanks anyway!' shouted Argenta.

They turned and ran back out of the side street, heading back towards the Ministry. Stunned bodies were scattered on the ground, where Argenta and Ginny's attackers had been caught from behind by the remaining Weasleys as they retreated. Ron, Percy and Mr Weasley were scanning the area, but everything was quiet there for the moment. The side door to the Ministry was on fire, but apparently still sealed. Argenta kneeled by the body of one of their attackers.

'I wonder how long he'll be out cold for?' she remarked, looking up at Ginny, who was standing next to her.

'I don't know,' replied Ginny. 'A while, I suppose, depends how resistant to magic the person is.'

'By the looks of things, this lot was pretty resistant to magic in general,' muttered Ron, scowling at the fallen attackers.

'In any case, they're all going to wake up at some point, and then this will all start again,' said Argenta.

'What would you prefer we did? Kill them all?' replied Ginny.

Argenta glanced back down at the body on the floor.

'No, that really would make dark wizards out of all of us,' she replied. 'But we're just postponing fighting them again. We can't win today.'

Ginny looked up the Ministry as it towered above them, smoke rising into the air. She shook her head.

'The genie's not going back in the box, that's for certain,' she remarked.

Argenta stood up and followed Ginny's gaze up towards the Ministry's myriad ramparts, towers and appendages. Squinting through the smoke haze, she could make out two small figures jumping from one tower to another, with a slightly larger group in pursuit.

'Isn't that Harry and Hermione up there?' she remarked.

'Quite possibly,' replied Ginny in a tone as off-hand as she could muster.

'Shouldn't we be helping them?' Argenta continued.

Before Ginny could reply she heard the sound of someone disapparating nearby. She turned around but Ron was already gone.

The drop from the tower was small enough for Harry and Hermione to jump to the lower level. Harry glanced over his shoulder, counting at least four new vow wizards on their tail.

'Ready?' he said.

Hermione gazed into the emptiness opening out beneath the tower. For a moment her eyes seemed to glaze over and Harry thought she was about to lose her balance. He grabbed her by the arm, but by the time he reached her she had already recovered and steadied herself.

'Ready,' she replied. Her voice seemed to have regained its old determination. When he glanced over, her eyes were dark and concentrated on the drop before them. She glanced back at him for a split second and nodded. They jumped together.

The lower level stretched out in front of them, revealing more black towers, coiled and contorted black cables and shiny, jagged ramparts. The landing was harder than they had anticipated, and they lost their footing and landed in a heap. Harry staggered up first, turning swiftly to pull Hermione to her feet. As they stood up a wand was pointing in their faces.

'You know I could just put us all out of our misery,' said Ron in a glowering voice, not lowering his wand.

'We're probably going to lose today anyway, Ron, so why don't you?' replied Hermione, glaring back at him.

He glanced from Hermione to Harry, and back to Hermione.

'What are we fighting for then?' he replied.

'We're fighting because we all promised,' cut in Harry. 'Even if we're going to lose. But we're here. And you are too.'

Finally Ron lowered his wand. Suddenly something caught his eye in the distance.

'We'd better continue this discussion later,' he said. 'They're coming.'

Harry and Hermione looked back for an instant. The pursuing wizards had reached the lower level and were almost upon them.

'Let's go!' shouted Harry.

They nodded to one another then sprinted across the platform, curses already exploding around them, before scaling another tower. The chase continued on a tortuous route over roof after roof and from tower to tower. Finally, having led their pursuers into an apparent dead end, they disapparated back to a point Hermione remembered passing earlier in the upper parts of the main Ministry complex. In a narrow trench that seemed sheltered from intruding eyes, they stopped to take a rest.

'Not as young as we used to be,' said Harry, breathing heavily as he leaned against the side of the trench.

Hermione dropped to her knees. She was too out of breath to reply. Instead she could only gaze into the shiny black surface of the Ministry. Ron was not as tired as the other two, having joined the race later. He prowled around the perimeter, at a distance from Harry and Hermione.

'How long should we try to keep this up?' asked Harry, turning to Hermione.

'I don't know,' she replied as she got back on her feet. 'Long enough to allow as many people as possible to get out of the Ministry.'

'And then we make for that tower? What did Isaac say it was called?'

She looked up. Ron had come to join them. He was standing next to Harry. This is almost like old times.

'Muirton,' she replied.

'Do we even know where it is from here?' asked Ron.

'Good point,' said Hermione.

'I'm going up to see if I can see it,' said Harry. 'We should at least have an idea of where it is.'

'Well I'll come too,' said Hermione.

The two of them climbed up out of the trench. Ron followed silently. A section of what was now the Ministry's roof stretched away unevenly in all directions. They scanned the tall buildings that lay on all sides around the Ministry.

'That's it, isn't it?' said Harry, pointing at a brutalist concrete tower with darkened windows.

'Yes, that must be it,' said Hermione. 'I hope it'll be some sort of shelter for us.'

On one side the roof fell away to a sort of platform that formed a bridge of sorts between two wings of the Ministry. The platform was propped up between two ugly, squat towers, themselves covered with countless overhanging ledges that served as walkways and steps. The platform and the far side seemed quiet and deserted. Suddenly a fresh flurry of curses started up behind them.

'They're back,' said Ron.

They dropped noiselessly down onto the platform. From there they had a better view of what lay beyond. Beyond the end of the platform, the opposite tower rose out of a lower platform, and beyond that was yet another rise of the building.

'We should check what's on the other side,' said Harry. 'It all seems a bit too quiet down here.'

'You're right,' replied Hermione. 'It makes sense to move forward if we can.'

'If someone's waiting for us, we'll just have to blast our way through,' Ron remarked, twirling his wand in his hand. The air of agitation about him was palpable.

'We will, if we can,' said Hermione in a quiet voice.

'Let's go then,' said Ron, already starting across the glimmering black platform.

Harry stood his ground, shooting a glance at Hermione.

'Someone has to stay here and guard the rear,' said Hermione, gesticulating up at the ledge they had just left behind. Ron paused and looked back from the middle of the platform.

'Two should go forward and one should stay here,' said Harry.

The three of them looked at one another in silence.

'You two scout out what's down there,' said Hermione finally, breaking the silence. 'I don't mind staying here.'

'We'll be back for you in a minute,' said Harry. Hermione nodded and Harry and Ron made their way quickly across the platform. As they approached the edge, they dropped to the ground and crawled the final few metres to the edge. Harry glanced back for a moment then poked enough of his head over the edge in order to get a glimpse of what, or who lay below. He looked back and said something inaudible to Ron then looked back at Hermione and raised his thumb to signal the all clear. She nodded, watched Harry and Ron disappear off the edge of the platform then turned back to guard the ledge above her.

For a while all she could hear was the whistling of the wind, and beneath it muffled shouts and the sounds of curses and possibly guns being fired. She looked around her and out over the vast expanse of London beyond, wondering how high she was. Suddenly she heard the sound of something landing on the platform above her. She turned quickly, her wand outstretched. A man jumped over the ledge and from mid-air discharged his wand in Hermione's direction. Hermione ducked to one side, but before she had the chance to return fire, a curse flew past her and downed her attacker.

She turned again, grateful that Harry and Ron were covering her back, even though they had given no warning of their return. But walking towards her was a man quite unknown to her. He was smartly dressed in pinstriped trousers, a maroon shirt and waistcoat, and his long dark hair was tied back in a ponytail. He winked at Hermione and smiled at her as he walked calmly towards her. In his hand there was a wand.

'Don't move!' she shouted. The man stopped in his tracks, but continued to smile at her.

'Who are you?' she added.

'Jack Painsmaye,' he replied, casually pointing his wand at her. The name meant nothing to her. 'What about you?'

'Eloise Midgen,' she replied, judging it best to lie at this point.

'Another second and he would have taken your head off,' said Jack Painsmaye, pointing his wand at the prone figure on the ground.

'Thanks, I suppose,' said Hermione. She glanced at the man sprawled on the ground. She felt certain she recognised him as a new vow wizard. But who was this Jack Painsmaye? A new vow wizard? A Citadel wizard? Or a regular Ministry wizard?

'Did you escape from the Ministry?' Jack Painsmaye asked.

'Yes,' she replied, clenching her wand tighter.

'You should come down,' he said. 'Things are quieter down below now.'

'Is that so? It still sounds like a riot down there to me.'

'Come down,' he insisted, smiling all the while. 'Mr Morley wants to talk to you. Incarcero!'

Hermione had already moved by the time he delivered his curse, but as she landed a wave of pain shot up her arm, causing her to drop her wand. She glanced down and saw that Painsmaye's curse had caught the tip of her hand. A coil of barbed wire had wrapped itself around her fingers, and was slowly making its way up over her wrist and up her lower arm, constricting and digging into her flesh. She reached down for her wand, but the wire on her fingers prevented her from gripping it and it slipped back out of her grasp. Painsmaye cursed her again, and this time the barbed wire wrapped itself around her leg, causing her to fall to her knees. She dragged herself to her feet as quickly as she could, but by the time she was up the man was already grabbing her firmly around the arms and half-dragging her across the platform towards the edge. Their progress was slow, as Hermione could barely walk, and Painsmaye had to keep prodding her forward.

'Don't even think about disapparating,' said Jack Painsmaye. 'I'll decide when we leave.'

By now the wires had wrapped their way up most of her arm. The pain was intensifying, and when she looked down at her sleeve it was stained with blood. When they were about halfway across the platform, she had composed herself enough to start to formulate a plan. With the situation as it was, the best she could think of was to shout:

'Harry! Ro..!'.

Painsmaye's hand was clamped over her mouth before she had time to get both names out. He stopped for an instant to listen. Up on the platform it was quiet again, the blowing of the wind the only discernible sound. The sun had come out, casting a pinkish orange glow over London. And now Harry was striding across the platform, his wand raised. Painsmaye fired off a curse straight away, which Harry deflected. Painsmaye's next shot arched wide past Harry, so wide that it couldn't have been aimed at him, but rather at Ron, who had just climbed onto the platform himself. By then Harry had already fired a volley of curses, which scorched the sky around Hermione and Painsmaye. Painsmaye's grip on Hermione suddenly weakened, and she wrenched herself free, but as she twisted herself around, the barbed wire was pulled tighter and she cried out in pain, staggering as she struggled to stay on her feet.

Painsmaye fired again at Harry, taking a couple of steps back as he did, but Harry dodged the curses again, seemingly flicking them away as if they were nothing but flies buzzing around his head. I haven't seen him like this for a long time. Now Ron was adding curses of his own to Harry's. Painsmaye seemed in trouble, but with a deft flick of his wrist, he deflected a curse from Harry and sent one of his own, catching Ron on the foot and knocking him to the ground. Ron stumbled back to his feet, but his approach had been slowed.

Still Harry came closer. Unlike with Skelton, he had no words. Painsmaye grabbed Hermione by the hair, pulling her backwards so that she came toppling onto the floor. Somehow she stopped herself from crying out in pain. As she fell, she threw all her weight against him, managing to push him off balance. This was all the time Harry needed to deliver a stinging curse full in his chest, driving him back several metres and leaving him sprawled on the hard, dark surface of the platform. Immediately the barbed wire fell away, and Hermione was back on her knees, trying to stand as Harry came towards her. Her leg and arm stung with pain, and she was dripping blood on the ground, but she met his gaze and dredged up some sort of smile, which he returned as he moved quickly towards her. He was no more than a few metres away when she caught a glimpse of something glinting white in the distance, at the far end of the platform.

'Harry turn around!' she shouted, but the shots had already begun to ring out. The first two missed, but the third and the fourth hit Harry in the side and in the abdomen as he turned. The fifth and sixth were aimed at Ron, who yelled in agony and dropped to the ground, one of his fingers exploding in a little cloud of blood and bone. When Hermione looked up, Mr Morley still had his arm raised, the gun outstretched. He was surrounded by a group of wizards, who had their wands drawn. Even from a distance she could see him smiling victoriously.

In an instant she was on her feet, her wand back in her hand. She looked at Mr Morley and his followers as they began to approach her across the platform, its black shiny surface glinting in the afternoon sun. At the same time more began to climb up onto the platform. Her mind was empty. Mechanically she reached into her pocket and pulled out a gun, a replacement for the ones Ron had taken from her. Simultaneously she raised her wand and the gun and began walking towards them, firing curse upon curse and bullet upon bullet. The wizards were taken by surprise and started jumping or disapparating away to avoid the intermingling of curses and bullets. Then, as Hermione advanced, she became dimly aware that others had joined her, wizards dressed in black, Caius's coven, raining curses down on the wizards who were still there. Ron was back up on his feet off, erratically firing the wand he was holding in the wrong hand, blood still leaking from his wand hand. The enemy was in retreat, outnumbered as the Coven of the White Tooth pressed forward against them. Hermione's finger was still pulling the trigger, but she could no longer tell if she was firing any bullets. Mr Morley stumbled, hit by a curse or a bullet, his knees apparently giving out underneath him. Reaching the place where he was staggering to his feet, she dropped the gun and raised her wand. For a moment he looked at her defiantly, before Chloe Goodwin put her hand on his shoulder and the two of them were gone.

Hermione looked around, her eyes wide, as if she was just waking up. Bodies were strewn over the platform, some still, others moving their limbs. What I am doing here? … Harry.. Harry! She turned and ran back across the platform.

Ron was already leaning over him, his face white and his wounded hand shaking.

'He's not dead,' he said in a raw voice.

Harry lay in a pool of blood. Hermione kneeled down and took his head in her hand, her hair hanging low until it brushed his face. His eyes were closed but his chest was moving up and down under his t-shirt, which was drenched in blood. She was halfway through the first healing charm before she even realised what she was doing.

'Got any of that Dittany stuff?' said Ron breathlessly.

She paused as she reached the end of a charm, pulling up Harry's t-shirt to examine its effect. There seemed to be some improvement at least. But I can't heal this, not with the charms I know.

'His wounds are too serious,' she somehow managed to reply, her heart beating in her throat. She looked around at Ron and saw the terrible mess where one of his fingers had been blown away. 'I can close your wound at least, although there's not going to be much left of that finger.'

She was still gripping her wand with her other hand, holding so tightly that it felt as if wand and hand were riveted together. She raised it and cast an enchantment over Ron's shattered finger, which closed the wound. Ron winced loudly but seemed to rally a little. She looked at him sadly for a moment. Then she looked back down at Harry, launching back into all the healing charms she knew off by heart. His breathing seemed more even now, and the blood had stopped leaking from his wounds. He seemed to stir slightly, and his eyes opened and closed. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. She started another charm, even though she already knew that all the good she could do had already been done. An idea began to form but just as quickly started to slip away. She tried to grasp for a remnant of it but it had already sunk into nothingness. The day seemed to be darkening all around her, although she could still see the sun shining dimly, as if through a cloud of ash. Now the last of her strength seemed to be draining away too. Numbly she lay down next to Harry, gently tilting his head so that it faced hers. He stirred again vaguely but didn't speak. She lay her forehead against his and closed her eyes, willing silence around her. If you go, I go. If you stay, I stay. Distant sounds started to intrude on them. She tried to drive them away, but they became clearer and more insistent.

'He has to get to a hospital.'

She opened her eyes, but saw only black in front of her. Then her vision cleared and she could see Caius kneeling down next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder.

'Hermione, he has to get to a hospital now. I'm going to take him right away, while it's still possible to apparate out of here,' he said firmly.

She looked around at him, not quite understanding what he was saying to her. Finally she understood him and she allowed him to help her to her feet. Meredith put her arm around her, gripping her tightly in case she lost her balance. Then Caius knelt down and picked up Harry's limp body in his arms.

'When I get him to a hospital I'll send you a message. A text message, probably.'

Hermione looked at him blankly.

'I'll see you at the tower,' he added.

She tried to remember what tower he was talking about. Finally she remembered something and nodded in reply. He tried to smile, but could only manage a weak grimace. Dimly Hermione felt herself being transferred from Meredith's grasp to Ron's familiar embrace. She leaned against his shoulder for a few moments then straightened herself to stand on her own, his good hand still supporting her by her back.

Meredith stood back and nodded sadly to Caius. Then he disapparated, carrying Harry's blood-stained body. Meredith looked out over London, then pointed to a bleak concrete tower across from the risen Ministry building.

'That's the one, isn't it?' she said.

Ron nodded. They stood in silence for a moment.

'We'd better get going,' said Meredith. 'We've only delayed them. Their magical cordon will be in place soon enough.'

In illustration of her remark, she fired a curse that shot out over the side of the platform and beyond it, over the edge of the building. At some distance below it shattered in a ball of sparks.

Hermione looked at the tower where they were supposed to rendezvous, blood dripping from the tips of her hair. Then she looked down into the void below them, where the invisible barrier was rising up all around them. Where do we go from here? There's nowhere, nowhere. Apart from even further down into the dark. Harry, weren't you going to come down there with me?

As they were leaving she looked down one last time at the place where he had fallen. A trickle of his blood rolled down a little slope and gathered in a little pool at the bottom. A broad red smear had been left on the platform, the partial outline of his body still visible.