This fic needs a bit of an explanation, I think. It's actually based on a dream that I had during the spring, but the dream was a lot weirder. It involved Walmart. If you want to hear about the whole thing, feel free to e-mail me, and I will tell you all the crazy details. This takes place at Christmas during the trio's Christmas holiday; Harry is conspicuously absent because he is training for the final face-off with Voldemort that we all know will happen at the end of the year. Hermione's parents aren't there because I said so(creative license gives me that power:)). And as always, reviews are most welcome. This ficlet started out only two pages long, but the more thought about it, the more I liked it, and wanted to make it longer. This is the first instalment. I've got three planned, but if you readers want more, I have a plot bunny that I can extend. . . Ask and ye shall recieve! Does anyone else notice a theme with my stories?... Anyway, on with the story. Voila mon essence.
I breathed in the air around me- wax, incense, gingerbread- all the smells of Christmas. And here I was, back in the little Muggle church I'd went to before starting at Hogwarts. I hadn't been to regular church since I stepped on that train 6 years ago, but Christmas mass was something different; it felt right to come now. With all the craziness in my life right now, I guess I regressing back to my childhood.
I looked over at my companion, and smiled at him. "You're doing fine," I whispered, and
squeezed Ron's hand. I knew that he was nervous; he hadn't been very enthusiastic about coming with me to church. He'd muttered something that sounded like "crazy Muggles" and "witch burnings," but he'd finally relented when I pulled the "family tradition" card on him. So now he found himself sitting in a pew, holding a hymnal, in the middle of the night, trying not to appear out of place. He returned my smile gratefully as I leaned over to him. "Most of these people are dead on their feet, anyway."
He grinned again. "I feel the same way. Do you know what time it is?!" The awake people standing around us sent nasty looks our way; as if the Evil Eye would quell our conversation. I looked down at the hymnbook again, hiding my laughter by singing, instead.
Silent Night
Holy Night
All is Calm
As if cued by the last note, all the doors to the church blasted open, letting in cold winds that cut through my sweater. Figures swarmed through, dressed in black cloaks, wearing white masks, holding wands in their hands...
My analytical brain refused to accept what my eyes saw. I stood there, my mouth agape... not comprehending this horrible blending of my two worlds...
Death Eaters.
Here.
They'd already starting cursing the confused people when I felt Ron tug me to the ground. His contact made my senses return in a wave, and I could hear cries of terror and pain from all directions. Ron had always had quicker reflexes than me; his wand was ready in his hand, while I had to frantically search my purse to find mine. He was looking around, assessing the situation, and I could tell from the creases lining his forehead that it did not look good.
We were the only wizards there; the only people who could protect these Muggles. Although I hadn't been able to count them before Ron pulled me down, I had seen at least 20 of them. My mind flashed back to that night last year, when the three of us had taken an oath. I looked into Ron's eyes, and I knew he could hear the words in his head, too.
I shall protect all innocents with all my magical strength from those who would use their gift to help the Dark, from this day forward, until I draw my last breath.
That last breath suddenly seemed very close. . . We were vastly outnumbered, not to mention that we were facing fully trained Dark Wizards, while we hadn't even taken our NEWTs yet. They had no stipulations about using Unforgivable Curses. They were evil. At least we had the element of surprise. . .
I could hear the shrieks of the people as they ran for the exits, their screams as they were struck with curses, being tortured - toyed with – and the sick laughter of the Death Eaters. My resolve stiffened – every nasty curse I could think of flowed into my mind. I looked at Ron: "On the count of three?"
He nodded, and I knew we were thinking the same thing: strike as many of those buggers down as we could. We'd spent the last two years preparing for this, training to take out Voldemort and his followers. Now we had to put that training to use.
"One. . . "
I tried to close my ears to the cries around me, tried to focus and concentrate, drawing all my power in. . .
"Two. . . "
I moved into a crouched position, my wand trembling in my hand. I took a deep breath, forcing my nerves to relax. . .
"Thr-"
I was about to jump up, when a new sound reached my ears: Gunfire.
Ron didn't recognize the sound at first, he hadn't been raised watching TV, after all. He was looking at me expectantly, wondering why I had stopped the plan. I couldn't answer him. All I could do was shake; this changed everything for me. Curses and hexes I was prepared for; but guns? Death Eaters had never used guns before; they'd been considered below their station. I was completely thrown, my mind suddenly couldn't think of even one of those curses that had been coursing through my brain a few seconds before. Ron had realized what those sounds were. "Ron, we can't fight their guns with our wands; magic won't work against Muggle machinery. How can we help them when we're helpless ourselves? Curses we can at least try to deflect, but bullets-"
Ron grasped my shaking hands in his own, and held them tightly to steady them. "Hermione, I know. We can't stay and fight; getting slaughter with Muggle weapons was not part of our oath. We'd just end up as two dead bodies. The only thing we can do is try to get away, and tell the others about this new development. Now get ready; we'll run for that door there," he pointed to one on his left, "and we'll try to get of as many curses as we can on the way. Okay?"
I nodded shakily, and before I knew it, we were running, crouched down, trying desperately to escape.
My brain seemed to start working in slow motion as soon as my feet touched the floor. It was like running in water, only slower and harder. I could feel my mouth forming curses, but couldn't hear myself say them out loud. I could feel my legs moving, but didn't think where they would land. I saw green flashes all around me, felt the air become supercharged around me with every near miss, heard shots being fired, narrowly missing, glass shattering, people screaming... We were close to the door, it was only a few more feet away.
And suddenly, everything sped up and I felt a sharp pain in my right arm. My feet stumbled, and I flew forward. I felt something drop from my hand, but that thought left my mind as I nearly fell to the floor. Luckily, I had Ron and those quick reflexes to keep me from collapsing entirely. He pulled me into his arms, and I could hear the angry shouts from behind us as we managed to make it out the gaping entrance.
We were out in the cold air, now, neither of us having any clue of where we were going. We were running, literally, on pure adrenaline. Every step seemed to jar my arm, and I was thankful that Ron's strong arms were around me to keep me going. Neither of us said a word; we both were sharing the same thought: create as much distance as possible to keep them from finding us. The thick snow slowed us down and brambles caught at our faces. We kept running into the dark, deeper and deeper into the woods, trying desperately to escape.