Harry Potter
And the
Silver Bullet Faction
When we last left Harry, there was a quick encounter with a Vampire, which left our hero bruised, and his good friend Hermione, gone. Now the only hope looks like for Harry and the gang to plan to get her back. Dumbledore is very worried, not at all like himself, and Ron isn't taking it well, either...
Chapter 6
To settle a score.
"It's all right, now." Madam Pomfrey mopped off his head with a cool cloth. "We'll mend that cut now and you can go back to your bed."
"Poppy," Dumbledore appeared in the doorway. "I need to talk to Harry immediately. Alone."
"I'm sorry? Professor, I have a patient who is severely injured here. He needs help."
"Poppy, this is not the time. Something much more valuable than a life or a limb is at stake, and I'm sure Harry is in no immediate danger."
Madam Pomfrey sighed. But what could she really do? He was the headmaster. And Harry wasn't exactly dying. True, his face was covered with blood, from a deep gash he had received after being thrown. He recalled the events so vividly...
... Hermione and the boy, kissing. But why? Harry had a good idea, which brought him to worry a lot about her, now...
Ron sat on the bed next to Harry's. He was the first to enter the room, right after Hermione and the boy ran...flew out of the window.
"Hermione... no..." Ron mumbled, but not helplessly. Harry could see the blazing fury burning in his eyes, the worry about one of his best friends.
"Mister Weasley, I'm sorry, but I need to talk to Harry alone." Dumbledore told him. Ron stood, and left with Madam Pomfrey, shutting the door behind them.
"Harry, we must hurry, for we have very little time. I have already contacted the Silver Bullet Faction Headquarters, and they are sending twenty men out here to guard the school for the year. I will inform the students in the morning. But we need to find Hermione and pray that she is all right. Listen, for I believe I know where she is. There is a castle two miles south of Hogsmeade. It has been recently guarded by the Silver Bullet Faction after a raid, but when I contacted them tonight, I found out that they have lost contacts to that castle. It has been taken over again, I'm sure..." Just then, they heard footsteps, and a voice.
"You can't, Weasel, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into..." A drawling voice rasped. Then there was a loud crack.
Dumbledore turned to Harry. "You must not intervene, this time, Harry for much, much more than your life is at stake. Stay here, and trust only Sirius and myself. I have business elsewhere, now, Harry. Goodbye." And with that, Dumbledore strode out of the room.
Madam Pomfrey passed him in the hall with a polite nod, came back into the infirmary, and healed Harry's cut. Then he left.
He was walking down the hall when a hand cupped over his mouth, and he was dragged into the shadows.
"DRACO!" He yelled, and Draco's hand wrenched over his mouth again.
"Shut up, Potter." Malfoy's cold eyes seemed to burn into his. "I heard about you lending me your broom, potter. Very arrogant, if you ask me. Dumbledore told me yesterday. But I you want to lose that bad..." He smirked.
"Keep your mouth shut, Malfoy."
"Listen, Potter, because I'm only going to tell you once. This isn't about that. I thought Hogwarts was secure. That I'd be safe."
"From what?"
"Vampires, Potter. One got Hermione tonight. Did your head get hit that bad?"
Harry glared. "Why are you worried? The vampires are in league with Voldemort and the Death - Eaters, including your father. Yes, I know your father is a Death - Eater." He responded to the surprised look on Draco's face.
"Well, Potter, I hate to say it, but Voldemort will not offer my father, mother, or me any protection from these. They are incredibly dangerous. But I can help you stop them. Or at least I'll try."
"What? Why? You hate Hermione. You wished for her to die two years ago..."
"I never meant it like that, Potter. I loathe Muggle - borns, but I don't see any real point in them dying. Not even that piece of trash Granger." Harry felt his face go red with rage, but Draco continued. "Yeah, I think they aren't at all anywhere near as good as us pure - bloods, but they don't deserve death. And nobody deserves losing their soul. But that's what may very well happen."
"What? You mean... her soul?"
"Yes, Potter. I used to study dark demi-humans as an interest. And that's what happens."
"I'm surprised anyone like you would believe in..."
"Potter, I'm not going to get into a theological discussion with you now, but I'm almost as concerned with everyone else in the school as well as myself..." Typical Draco Malfoy, Harry thought. "...and I'll do whatever it takes to stop them without getting hurt. Got it?"
"Fine." Harry muttered.
"But don't you dare take this as a gesture of friendship, Potter." Malfoy sneered.
"Don't worry. I won't." Harry glared back. Just then, he noticed that Malfoy's nose was bleeding. "How did that happen?"
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot." Draco drawled. "Weasley punched me in the nose. You better go tell Dumbledore."
"That he punched you?" Harry was more concerned that Draco would have Snape go after Ron.
"No, Potter. I actually tried to stop him, believe it or not, but he's gone after Hermione. To that castle, south of Hogsmeade."
* * *
The doors on the old castle creaked loudly, swinging open and shut.
"Phillip? Charlie?" A man called inside. His voice echoed in the seemingly empty, dank halls. He didn't even see the shadow dart behind him. Right now, he had no clue that both of his colleagues were dead. And he didn't even realize, as he took his last breath, as someone snuck up behind him, as his neck was snapped in a split second, the last moment of his life.
"Hermione!" Ron tore down the old hill past Hogsmeade. He should have told Dumbledore, or at least consulted Harry before he even thought of leaving. But there was no time.
The situations they had been up against before, they all seemed challenging, but they never seemed to need so much more time, not when they went after Quirrell, or entered the Chamber of Secrets, or saved Sirius and Buckbeak.
But this time, their time was just about up.
He ran up to the doors of the castle, and realized that they were open.
That's funny, Ron thought, weren't there supposed to be Silver Bullet Soldiers here? It looks empty... He peeked inside. Total darkness.
"She's got to be in here." He muttered. But he almost wished she wasn't, because he didn't want to meet up with that boy Harry told him had knocked him senseless. Suddenly, at the far end of the hall, he spotted a figure.
"Hermione!" He skidded across the grimy floor until he reached the other side, where she was sitting on the floor, almost as if she was waiting.
"Hello, Ron," She said without even looking up at him. "we've been waiting for you."
"What do you mean, we? Hermione, it's time we go back to Hogwarts."
"But I want to stay. Right here. Now and forever."
"No, you don't. Now come on!" He turned away and grabbed her hand to yank her up, but suddenly felt something tear at his hand. He turned in shock to see her biting into it.
"HERMIONE!" He yelped and yanked it away. She licked her lips and stood, bearing horrid fangs.
"Oh, sick, you're one of them!" He turned, but someone was blocking his path. A tall, pale boy.
"Leaving so soon?" He asked.
Ron reached into his robes and gripped his wand, his hand almost slipping past it from being covered in sweat. Or the blood trickling from where Hermione had shredded it up.
"You're afraid." He stepped behind Ron. "You should be."
"Right." Ron pulled the wand out. "Stupe-"
"Crucio!" The boy pointed his hand at Ron and shouted. Suddenly, a pain like no other - like fire - only worse - coursed through Ron. Every inch of skin, bone, it was as if his body was tossed into a vat of molten steel. He screamed as the boy muttered another spell, which sent him flying back into the wall, slamming him against it again and again.
Suddenly, Ron realized he was still gripping his wand.
"Ex-Expel-Expelliarmus!" Ron managed to choke out. But nothing happened.
"Fool!" The boy shouted. "An entity of such magical power like mine has no need for a wand, even if it would conduct magic better. But If you don't like me playing with magic..." He muttered something else, and Ron fell to the ground, and the Crucious Curse faded away.
"Well?" The boy smirked evilly. "Now is your chance. I will give you ten - count 'em - ten seconds to attack me, and I will not attack back, magic or otherwise."
Ron gripped his wand and prepared to go all out.
* * *
What's going on here? Harry thought as he raced through the hallways. No one's acting like themselves - Dumbledore isn't very confident, Ron went after Hermione when he knows all about the scary things that have been going on, and Draco... he's trying to help me!
He turned the corner and hurried up to Dumbledore's gargoyle statue. None of this makes any sense! No one is acting like themselves! What is going on here? He thought. And why didn't Dumbledore notice Draco in the halls? He usually would have been able to tell that Ron was right outside of the infirmary doors!
"Cauldron cakes!" He shouted at the gargoyle, which leapt aside, revealing the entrance to Dumbledore's office. As Harry raced up to the door, even more questions raced through his mind.
"Professor!" He yelled as he burst through the door. Inside, he saw a man in chain mail and a black leather jacket talking to Dumbledore, who was drinking from a goblet of wine.
"Harry, is there a problem?" Dumbledore fixed an unusually gruff stare on Harry, his eyes not twinkling at all like they usually do.
Harry could barely choke.
"What's wrong? Did something happen?" The man asked. "Is there an intruder?"
"No, no, no..." Harry gasped. "Professor, it's Ron. He's gone after Hermione.
Dumbledore's goblet dropped from his hand and shattered on the floor.
* * *
"Stupefy!" Ron shouted. The boy raised his hand, and Ron almost worried that he had been double crossed, until the boy muttered, "Deflectus." And the spell bounced aside.
"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" He bellowed.
"Defletus Maxim." All three spells bounced aside, a solid barrier separating the boy and Ron.
Five seconds left. Ron knew that he was too weak to perform the Kedavra curse and probably the Crucious, so he tried one more idea that crossed his mind.
"Imperius!" He yelled, and the spell struck the boy square in the head. It worked!
Now, Ron thought, you will do as I tell you. I want you stay right there. Don't move at all. Within his subconscious, where the boy couldn't hear his thoughts, Ron realized that he could not yet use the stunning spell, stupefy, or else he might break his concentration and allow the boy the split second he needed to regain control.
But for now, Ron thought, I am in control.
"No, you're not." The boy told him.
"What? But how?" He concentrated. You will stand right there, he commanded in his head.
"No, I won't. Sorry to tell you this, but your ten seconds are up."
What? But how? How can he resist this spell? Ron thought.
"Very simple, actually. My intellect is much greater than yours. And now you have made things much simpler for me, now that you have used that spell to bridge our minds."
"What?" Ron gasped. Suddenly the boy's voice boomed in his head. He's countering the spell somehow, Ron realized.
Walk over to me. The voice boomed. Ron could not stop himself. He walked straight up to the boy and stared him in the eye.
"Very good." The boy flicked his hand, and the link between their minds was broken immediately.
Ron had one last - ditch effort. The weak point... the heart... he thought. My wand is as close to a stake as I can get. He tensed his arm and his wand shot up for the left side of the boy's chest. Like a flash, the boy's hand gripped Ron's fist, and he took the wand away, and snapped it in two.
"What? But you couldn't read my mind anymore!" Ron shouted.
"Let's face it. You're no match for me - and you never were - magically or physically." He squeezed and shattered every bone in Ron's fist. Ron could barely manage to sputter in his agony. Suddenly, he felt the boy's icy fingers wrapping around his neck, choking him, lifting him off the ground.
Then he felt a sharp pain as the boy snapped his spine in two, above the second vertebrate. A perfect hangman's fracture.
And Ron crumpled on the floor, a lifeless heap.
* * *
A week passed. When the faction raided the castle, there was nothing to be found. They had no idea where to find Ron, and the atmosphere at Hogwarts was becoming uneasy and distrustful.
Finally, it was time for the first Quidditch match, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The team had been given the run through, of every little detail of play. A third year Gryffindor was replacing for Ron. Fred pointed out several times that the new captain was just as bad as Oliver Wood was.
Angelina looked at Harry uneasily. She didn't at all want to lose the match, but, hey, who did? Harry took the team's most battered Comet Two-Sixty and walked out onto the field.
"Team Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch told them. Angelina and the new Slytherin Captain, Draco, shook hands. This surprised Harry, in a way, but then again, he thought, Draco probably bought the position.
"Mount your brooms, and... GO!" Madam Hooch shouted. Immediately, fourteen brooms shot up into the air, Harry the highest.
Five seconds into the game.
"And Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle." Lee Jordan was commenting again. "Yes, and a block by Alicia Spinnit! Now Gryffindor is going for one of the Slytherin goals, only ten seconds in..."
Harry searched the field for the snitch amongst the scrambled mass of players, bludgers, and the quaffle. Suddenly, he saw it, glinting across the field.
Right next to Draco.
Harry turned and took off in the other direction and surely enough, as he had planned, Draco was speeding across the field on Harry's Firebolt. As he passed, Harry turned straight back in the other direction, heading for the snitch. Draco couldn't turn around safely enough at the speed he was going, and, anyway, he didn't have the control over the Firebolt that Harry did.
Or so Harry thought. But as he was about to reach the snitch, he turned back to realize that Draco was right behind him. He just needed a few more feet...
It was neck and neck...
"And Malfoy and Potter both found the snitch... look at them go!" Lee blared.
One inch. It made all the difference in the world...
Harry began to recall all his past Quidditch experiences...
Rising up on his first broom for the first time...
Winning the Quidditch cup...
The world cup...
His first match...
His whole team, smiling, shouting, cheering him on...
He saw the snitch dive to the right, closer to Draco's hand. But unlike Harry, Draco couldn't follow it. Harry reached a little to the right, and his fingers closed around the small, shiny brass snitch.
"WHAAAAT?" Jordan hit a button on his stopwatch. "Nineteen point... two-one seconds into play, and Harry's got the Snitch! This... is a new record! Incredible!" Harry fell floated down to the ground. He had done it. Nineteen seconds.
"Harry!" Angelina landed beside him. The whole team was coming down, shouting his name and cheering. The Gryffindor crowd roared almost as loud as it had when he had won the cup. And something else landed beside him. The Firebolt.
"Hmph." Draco gave him an half nasty look. It wasn't really angry or hateful, but mostly shocked.
It was undisputed. Harry was the best there was, and Draco just couldn't comprehend. Harry picked up his Firebolt and was carried off the field by his team, cheered by the entire Gryffindor crowd.
* * *
He waited in the common room, thinking. About Ron. Where is he, Harry asked himself. For twenty full seconds, he had forgotten. That was too long for a best friend.
The common room was empty. Harry glanced over at the window. Then he got up, walked over, and opened it. Staring out into the dark night. Suddenly, he heard something. It seemed like a whisper, inside his head, or outside. He couldn't tell for some odd reason. Calling his name. It seemed almost as if the voice was cast with the moon's oddly deep, rust colored glow.
"Hermione..." He breathed.
Is Hermione lurking around the castle with that mysterious boy? And what about Ron? Has our hero's best friend's final hour finally come? Find out in the next thrilling installment in our series, Harry Potter and the Silver Bullet Faction, Chapter Seven!