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Chapter 6: No Man Than This . . .
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The grounds were dark as they crept across towards the Forbidden Forest, and headed for the clearing.
Gingerly, they pushed back the thorny branches that surrounded the area and went into the glade. Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak and the three of them looked around for moment, before Harry made his way over to the yew, examining the hollows, trying to locate the most probable one for the scroll to be inside. Most were fine fissures that he couldn't even wedge a finger in. He hoped that they wouldn't have to harm the old tree in any way to get at the paper. He pressed on the bark, looking for a soft spot, and in the centre of the tree, a hollow gave way. The smallest fissure tore all the way open with a resounding crack.
The split in the trunk was narrow. Neither Harry nor Ron could fit their hands in it.
Hermione sighed. "Let me." She stepped forward. The boys got out of her way and Harry started s
"Harry," Hermione had slipped her hand into the tree's hollow and was feeling around, "it's not in there. There doesn't seem to be anything in there."
"What?" Harry was startled. "But I swear that's the tree. Is it in another hole?"
"Maybe a squirrel moved it." Ron suggested doubtfully. He sat down morosely on the remains of an alder trunk. "Got any ideas, Harry?" Harry shook his head.
"Well, it's here somewhere, right?" Hermione said briskly. "Let's keep looking." She continued feeling around in the heart of the tree.
Suddenly the rotted trunk that Ron was sitting on shattered under his weight and he was unceremoniously tossed to the ground. He scrambled to his feet. Harry was about to ask his best friend if he was okay, when Hermione yelped. He turned and saw that she had loosened something from the hollow, and a scroll was protruding from a crack in the bark.
"Doesn't anyone care if I'm all right?" Ron complained, rubbing his hip. Hermione pointed at the tree. His mouth dropped open too. "Is that it?"
"I hope so," Harry said.
Hermione tugged until it came loose from the rotten wood. "Weird," she said, holding it for a moment before handing it to Harry. He knew what she meant—the parchment felt almost alive in his hand. He could have stood there marvelling at it for quite a while, but he knew they had to get out of there. Quickly, he shoved the scroll into his pocket.
Ron was jubilant. "Let's go, then. We'll get the parchment to Dumbledore and we'll be set. Easier than we thought, eh?"
Behind them came another loud cracking noise, then scuffling sounds.
"Someone's here," Hermione said, pointing out the obvious.
Harry caught a glimpse of a masked figure behind a tree. Ron followed his gaze.
"Great," Ron moaned. "They can do Arithmancy, too." Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak again and the three of them crept quietly under it and ducked into the thorn bushes closest to the field. All they had to do was find a relatively unobstructed way out and they'd be fine—some path where they'd make as little noise as possible.
"Death-Eaters? Again?" Hermione's eyes were round.
"Well, of course it's Death-Eaters." Ron muttered. "It's all part of Harry's Law, didn't you know?" Harry rolled his eyes. Yeah, now was an excellent time to be funny.
" 'Harry's' what?" Hermione asked.
"Law. It's the phenomenon that explains why everything we do is incredibly complicated and dangerous." Ron put on his best, albeit very quiet, McGonagall impression. "I am shocked that you, Miss Granger, would be unaware of such a thing. Perhaps you had better start reading more."
Hermione ignored him.
"Let's just get out of here," she said. "You've got the paper, haven't you, Harry?"
"Of course I've got it," he snapped, as quietly as he could. Still, to be sure, he reached into his pocket and felt for the scroll. But it wasn't in his pocket. He quickly patted himself down and looked quickly at the ground around him. It was gone. "Oh no," he breathed.
" 'Oh no' what?" Ron asked tightly.
"I don't have it. It's not here."
"You dropped it?" Hermione suddenly grabbed his arm very, very tightly.
"I didn't drop it."
"Then what happened, mate?" Ron didn't sound very happy about the situation.
The Death-Eaters were speaking now. Harry hoped that they couldn't hear the three of them behind the bushes.
"Well, it wasn't like I was holding onto it, exactly. It was in my pocket . . . " Harry stopped. The pocket that he'd torn the last time they'd been here. "There was a hole . . ." How could he have forgotten about the hole?
"Bloody hell." Ron said venomously. They were interrupted by an all-too-familiar voice.
"No, the magic itself is gone from here. Someone has taken it."
"Uh oh," Hermione said, almost inaudibly. She sniffled quietly.
Is she crying? Harry wondered. 'Uh oh' is right, though. . .
Suddenly, the figure grabbed one of the other masked wizards by the throat. "You said that Potter was here the last time you went looking. And you let him escape. Look what you've done."
"Much larger 'uh oh,' " Ron muttered.
Hermione sneezed. The clearing went silent.
"Potter!" snarled Voldemort.
"I don't think 'uh oh' quite covers it this time." Harry said. "Find that paper and RUN."
They tried to cut through the prickly thorns as quickly as they could, but there was no way to stop the bushes from rustling behind them, even under the Invisibility Cloak.
What's the use of being invisible if you can still give yourself away?
"Why he always thinks it's me, I don't know." Harry said under his breath.
"Because it is always you," Ron hissed. "HARRY'S LAW. Do you ever listen to me?"
Harry would have smacked him, but there wasn't exactly time. The air was already crackling with hexes. "Keep your heads down. They know we're out here somewhere. They'll just try to cover as much ground with their curses as they can." He was only half-listening to his own words as he searched the area for the parchment. If only it glittered like the Snitch. But, and he gritted his teeth, it doesn't.
A bright flash suddenly lit Harry's view. For a split-second the ground was illuminated and he saw it. The paper. But before he could react and grab for it, there was a sharp cry
"Harry!"
and Harry felt someone shove him. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. The jolt broke his concentration on the paper. Where had it gone? Then it appeared again, right on the ground in front of him. He reached his hand out and caught the paper. Harry crumpled it in his fist, shoving it deep into his other pocket. Get back, his instincts were screaming. Move! He spotted a ruined house across the field. The wall promised only a temporary shield, but it would do for now. He had hold of Hermione's hand, dragging her along through the last of the thorns with him, along across the field and hopefully towards safety. He could hear her panting behind him, but the cloak seemed slacker than before. There was more room in it. Something was different.
Harry glanced around him. He saw a form behind them, half in the thorns, half in the open field.
Ron. Blood ran out of a gash on his temple. He was very pale. Oh God, not again. Harry heard Hermione whisper.
"Oh, Ron . . . Why does he always do that?"
The Death-Eaters began to close in around Ron's figure. The brush around him disappeared in a haze of bright light—scorched away. There wasn't a lot of time. Harry made a quick decision.
"Look, Hermione. I'll make a diversion. You sneak out under the cloak and grab Ron. Cover him and bring him back to that wall. Wait for me there. I'll just buy us some time to get him back."
"Harry! What are you going to do? What kind of diversion? They can see you without the cloak. You're what they want anyway. They're not as interested in either Ron or me. You'll just give them exactly what they want."
"Don't worry about me. Just go take care of Ron."
"But you can't! They'll kill you! Harry!" Hermione was clutching his sleeve. She sounded almost hysterical. "I'm sure there's another way . . .it's suicide. Harry, please don't do it." He turned to shush her.
"Don't you want to get Ron back?" he whispered furiously. He was so angry--he wanted to shake her. "I thought you were his friend, too. Get over this fight, Hermione. I'm going to at least tr—." Something hit him in the head. Harry was dazed and shooting stars seemed to cover his vision.
"I'm so sorry, Harry. In a second you won't feel it. It wears off." Hermione was suddenly very serious. "You're not going out there. Promise me, Harry, that you'll both get out of this. Promise." She let go of his arm.
"Her-Hermione!"
But before Harry could stop her, she had rolled out from under the cloak and scrambled to her feet. He heard the crunch of twigs breaking under her feet as she ran towards the cloaked wizards, yelling as loudly as she possibly could
"Come on, you bastards! Wouldn't you rather take a Mudblood?! Or don't you think you can defeat someone Muggle-born?"
Harry froze. Instantly the Death-Eaters' attention shifted from Ron to the figure threatening them. That was his chance. Harry ran towards Ron. He had almost reached him when he heard that familiar voice hissing.
"Little Mudblooded girl." And then the tenor of the voice changed. It became silky smooth, placating.
"Where's the boy, girl? Tell me."
There was no answer.
"Tell me and I might spare you. After all, there is always room for a Mudblood slave in our world. A life like that's better than death, little girl." The last sentence was hissed out.
"I don't know to whom you are referring." Hermione sounded like she had a thousand times in the library, haughty and acerbic.
"Really." There was mirthless laughter. "Tell me where Potter is."
Then a horrible word,
"Crucio!"
Hermione's scream pierced Harry's ears. She doubled over and fell to her knees.
Ron was still visible. Harry threw the cloak over him and he vanished. He grabbed Ron under the arms and started back. The stone wall was about 50 metres away. He had to get Ron there before . . . He wasn't going to think about it.
Hermione was still on her knees, no longer screaming. She was biting her lip so hard that blood began to trickle out of the corner of her mouth. But the Death Eaters no longer seemed interested in her. As they turned back to where Ron had been lying, Harry dragged Ron away from them towards safety. It was too far. They would never make it before they noticed. . . dammit, if only he could Apparate. He looked back.
"Go!" whispered Hermione hoarsely to nowhere. "just go. The two of you—go." She was looking around, trying to find a sign that they were safe. Harry stared at her, still pulling Ron. She stumbled to her feet, wand clenched in her hand.
"HARRY! GO, GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!" Her wand lashed out. "Detonius!"
The ground in front of the masked wizards exploded. Several of them fell over, stunned or hurt, Harry couldn't tell. Their attention returned to the girl in front of them.
"You won't get away with this," she cried out, staggering. Her grip on her wand was even tighter, and her knuckles went white. "Harry will never let you . . ." She gasped and continued. "You're all nothing but a bunch of pathetic idiots terrified that—that you're going to lose. I'm not scared, d'you hear that, Death-Eaters? A Mudblood who doesn't give a rat's arse about you!" Harry stopped. His hand touched the cobbled wall and he nearly threw Ron behind it as he turned to help Hermione. It was too late.
"I'm not scared of y—"
"Avada—"
Hermione's back was to him. Her voice was quiet, almost calm, but for Harry it cut through the din of angry Death-Eaters.
"Oh God—"
"—Kedavra!"
Air rushed past Harry and he shut his eyes against the flash of green light. When he looked up again, Hermione Granger, the cleverest witch of her age, was crumpled on the field.
Harry was shaking. Hermione. So much was running through his mind that he didn't know what to do. I can't, he thought, I . . .I can't. But you have to, a small voice said. You can't stop now. But I don't know how to drive them off and I can't leave her there. We can't wait them out, not with Ron like he is. How . . .? He leaned against the stone wall, staring at Ron's unconscious form, the redhead's hand trailing in the hearth of the crumbling building. There was nowhere to go. They were trapped. I'm sorry, Hermione, Harry thought. It looks like I'm going to break that promise. Harry looked sadly at Ron.
Then he shook his head and looked again. Ron's hand. In the hearth.
(So light a fire.)
(Yes—of course—but there's no WOOD.)
(Have you gone MAD? Are you a witch or not?)
Oh, just let this be the right one . . . Harry reached into his torn robe pocket. It was. How it managed to stay there when the scroll had fallen out, Harry didn't know. The tiny packet of Floo Powder that the Weasley twins had given him was beaten and dog-eared, but intact. Harry gritted his teeth, (Let it still be in the Floo Network—let someone have fallen down on their job, please, let this work), took a deep breath and ran back out from behind the wall. Without Ron's weight, he could sprint. He swept the cloak over Hermione's body and fled. She was much lighter than Ron, and he could get up to a slow jog with her in his arms. He didn't care if parts of him were visible—he just hoped they wouldn't have time to react. The muttering of the Death-Eaters grew into a furious rumble and he heard the voice start a curse. It was too late. Harry skidded around the wall, pointed his wand at the fireplace and cried
"Incendius!" Flames leaped to life.
Harry threw some powder in, yelled the first place he could think of, grabbed one of Ron's hands and one of Hermione's, pulled them in with him and before the wall crumbled under the curses of the Death-Eaters, they were gone.
They landed with a thump. Soot dusted down over them. Harry stared at the thatched ceiling. He lay there a minute, glad that half-giants had large fireplaces, still gripping his friends' hands. He let go and got up, slowly. Ron was beginning to stir. Ron put his hand to his head. He stood, shakily.
"Bloody hell. What was that? How did we get to Hagrid's? Where are those blasted Death Eaters?" But Harry didn't hear him. He was kneeling next to Hermione. He put his hand under her neck and lifted her head up.
"That must have been some Stun Charm. Lucky, that's what we were. I swear Harry, sometimes we cut it a bit close."
(We could have been killed—or worse, expelled.)
Harry stared down at Hermione. He remembered Cedric's face, surprised grey eyes and half-open mouth, as though the older boy was trying to speak and had been interrupted. Hermione's eyes were closed, as was her mouth, bruised and bloody where she'd bitten her lip, but the same vacant expression remained. Something from Muggle school came back to him and he put his fingers along her neck, under her jaw. He felt nothing through the cool skin. His throat tightened.
(Mumma?)
"Pomfrey is going to have hysterics when we go up there again." Ron was looking out Hagrid's window. There was no sign of the burly groundskeeper. "And Hermione, when she wakes up and realizes she's missed another night of studying from being Stunned, well, I don't know if I want to be the one to tell her. Not that we're on speaking terms anyway. I nominate you. You're a Seeker, you can get away quickly enough."
"Ron." Harry's voice was thick.
"And I'm damned if I'm carrying that know-it-all back across the grounds. I don't know Mobilicorpus well enough to get it to work, so we'll just have to Enervate her. Make her go on her own power."
"Ron." It hurt to force the words out. "She's not Stunned."
The redhead continued speaking as if Harry wasn't making any sense whatsoever.
"Well, she's not Petrified, is she? I mean, what else could it be?" There was no pause for an answer. Ron's voice began to rise in pitch. "Right, then. Let's go. After all, we don't have all night. We need to get that paper to Dumbledore. Harry, you've got it this time, righ—"
"Ron." Ron turned. He met Harry's eyes. "Ron, it—"
Harry didn't need to go on, because Ron wasn't listening. Instead, he was looking at Hermione, watching Harry's hand pull away from the hollow under her jaw.
"Right, then." Ron said softly. He knelt down and picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other cradling her neck. Hermione seemed very small in the taller boy's arms and her head lolled against his shoulder. "Let's go. Got to get that paper to Dumbledore."
(Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it.)
They walked back to the castle in silence.
