By Tegan
Echoes
Chapter 4: The Forest for the Trees
Hermione looked at the wall of trees that, only a short distance away, appeared as hazy shadows flailing and thrashing in the dark.
Nervously she glanced over her shoulder at the dark figures, who were driving them into the Forbidden Forest. She could still vaguely feel the desperation and hopelessness that had affected her in the village. Now, though, she was far enough away from the foul creatures to control her feelings and not allow herself to be consumed by them. She knew her chances for survival were slim, even if she made it back to the castle, but she was resolved to try.
She and Harry stopped in front of a huge snow bank.
The tree line at the edge of the forest acted as a barrier for the wind, allowing snow to drift to great heights. Hermione scrutinized the drift that was nearly as tall as she. A strong wind twirled the top layer of snow around covering the cloak, so that it had to be shaken off to see through.
"Let's levitate over," Harry directed backing up to perform the spell.
That however proved to be a mistake. The moment their feet left the ground, the wild wind jettisoned them head first into the drift. Hermione was thrown so deeply in, that a heavy blanket of snow smothered her face suffocating her. She struggled to remove herself from the frigid pile, flopping onto the ground gasping for breath. The cloak slid off as she did so.
Suddenly, a large webbed branch rolled and jumped like tumbleweed over the top of the drift towards the town.
A vision of wooden claws dragging her into hell entered her mind, and Hermione had to close her eyes for a moment. She stood up, wiping her face with her sleeve, but not bothering to brush the snow from her hair and clothes.
She shook violently from the cold that surrounded her, and looked over to see Harry stumbling to stand. As he awkwardly threw the cloak back over their heads, she noticed that Harry was not as steady as he had been.
Hermione reluctantly suggested, "Maybe climbing would be best."
Harry only nodded his agreement.
She had to use her cold, sore hands to help her climb. One hand reached out at the snow. Her other fist, tightly wrapped around her wand, sunk into the frozen drift. She did not know if her hand would ever come loose from this grip. Her legs pushed deep into the snow, nearly leaving her thin loafers behind as she lifted her feet.
Hermione was far from properly dressed for these conditions. Snow was now in her shoes drenching her feet and toes with cold wetness. Her hands were bare and red and raw, yet at that moment, she did not feel the cold. She felt nothing but numb inside and out.
The wind whipped her hair around violently, hitting her sharply on her numbed face and eyes, so that she teared up. She realized that even without the wind, she should be crying. Her mind returned to the poor, lost girl on the edge of Hogsmeade, and she felt as empty as that young woman had been.
She stumbled to right herself, when she reached the peak of the hill. Hermione turned to look back at the town. The light from the blazes and explosions faded into the dark snowy haze of the storm. She could no longer see the robed enemy, but she sensed they were not far away. She prayed that she had not been noticed. Though she could not see, she knew the girl who laid frozen in the snow was probably dead by now.
"I think that is the path," Harry shouted pointing down to a small opening in the trees.
Hermione doubted if that were true. The narrow separation within the trees looked a poor excuse for a path.
She looked up at the menacing trees that stood like guard arching over the pathway. Darkness engulfed the forest beyond the entrance.
"This is insane!" She shouted over the howling wind.
Hermione knew that it truly was insane. Even in broad daylight, the forest, with its cursed trees, would be incredibly hazardous, but now they were forced through this treacherous maze in total darkness. The odds against them were astronomical.
Once they had made it over the snow bank, the wind lessened somewhat, and Hermione tried in vain to place Warming Spells on their hands and feet. She thought that a vague effect occurred, but the Dark Magic used to conjure this storm was too strong for her simple Warming Spell.
Hermione looked at Harry. The snow and wind were affecting him as well. She watched him shake and wobble as they walked next to the embankment to the path. They had to move very slowly in almost no light to avoid falling and running into objects hidden in the dark haze of the stormy night.
She looked up and saw a ceiling of wicked fingers moving, thrashing, clawing in the wind.
A branch came flying out of the pitch blackness, narrowly missing them.
Hermione jumped back in fright. She had not seen the branch until it was far too late.
She paused, breathing in the frigid air. If they were to survive, Hermione could not allow herself to become scared and irrational. Her mind was sharp, and, she believed, for every problem a solution must exist. She needed to look at their situation as a solvable puzzle, focusing on one piece at a time. She decided their greatest obstacle was the darkness. They had to be able to move quickly in case the Dementors continued after them. They also need to avoid the branches and roots of the vicious trees. Somehow they must improve their sight, without allowing others to see them.
"Wait Harry," She held onto his sweater, so that he could not move. "We'll never make it through this darkness unless we can see."
Hermione continued as calmly as possible, though the urgency of the situation prodded her to hurry, "I don't know how much this will help, but I can transfigure our eyes into something that can see at night."
"Hedwig flies at night all the time.".
"An owl," Her analytical mind took over. "That would work, and they can see in the infrared spectrum. It might help us determine if we are being followed by any creature."
Her speech brought up visions of the Dementors. She wondered how well her eyes would notice something so dark and cold as those horrific creatures. She quickly pushed her thought aside and concentrated all her energy on her task.
She directed her wand at Harry's eyes and commanded, "Otus Ocular."
Harry's eyes became large and round. He looked a bit ridiculous. Hermione would have chuckled had the situation been different.
She pointed her wand at her own and did likewise. She definitely could see better, not well, but the forest now had definition and shape. She could not sense color, but the shades of black and gray became varied and distinct. Though the snow and wind limited the distance at which she could see, her field of vision substantially increased. She could now sense movement from almost every direction.
She glanced over at Harry and noticed that he was in worse shape than she had previously thought. He looked weak and sickly and his whole body trembled. She knew that the Dementors and the storm had affected him more than he would admit.
"Ready?" Harry asked dryly.
"Yes, I think so," she replied uncertainly. She wished she could prepare more, study the situation indepth from a library somewhere safe.
As they passed under the first of the huge forest trees hanging menacingly above, Hermione felt sure they would be instantly absorbed. They were not however, and she breathed in a deep sigh of relief.
Her eyes jetted around nervously at the constantly shifting shadows.
Branches and twigs flew with the wind, flailing themselves into other trees and at the pair's feet.
Even with their night vision, the path was difficult to follow. Fortunately, the drifts were not nearly as bad as before, but snow covered everything so evenly, that they could not see the forest floor. Large roots and stumps lay on either side of the path, hidden by the snow. This forced them to move more slowly than she thought wise.
Hermione's new vision also played tricks with her mind.
Shadows and dark images darted and crept all around her. She imagined faces and bodies turning within the oaks and sycamores. These trees however did not scream with the anguish of before. The wind howled and blew strongly in her ears, but no cries of pain could be heard.
A loud crack made Hermione look up dreading that she would find someone there.
Gigantic limbs loomed terrible above them. The stormy wind thrashed the branches about wildly, twitching and clutching, but she saw no human figure.
In fact, Hermione noticed that no living creature was in sight. Her eyes should have detected some life by now. Even a small mouse, hiding within the snow should have been easily noticed by her large owl-like eyes. The last time she had been in the Forbidden Forest, glowing eyes and scurrying feet had been present. She hoped that this lack of life was due to the raging storm, rather than to the Dark Curse on the trees.
They walked deep into the forest. The wind continued to thrash and throw debris about. A small branch, freed from its tree by the wind, slammed into Hermione's leg. She jumped back nervously scanning the movement around her carefully. Although everything was in motion, she was fairly confident that they were alone. She could no longer feel the Dementors' presence. This gave her some hope that they might reach the castle alive.
And now, she hoped to reach the castle as soon as possible, rationalizing that Harry's cloak would give them an advantage against the Death Eaters, if not the Dementors. This was one advantage that Snape and the others did not have.
Finding the castle was more difficult than she had expected. It was nearly impossible to follow the path. The dirt way was normally thin and winding, but now there were large empty gaps in the forest, natural clearings as well as unnatural. There were many deep holes that had been created as massive roots pulled out of the ground.
They had just rounded a bend, when Harry pulled Hermione back forcefully. A low painful moan cried, and she looked to see the shadow of someone struggling.
She recognized the figure. Ronan the Centaur was embedded partially into a huge oak moaning in agony.
Hermione's body began to shake from more than the cold as she watched helplessly.
A loud crack and Ronan became indistinguishable from the tree, which took on a life of its own and began moving, as its roots pulled up. The oak's long roots moved like spider's legs crawling quickly away.
"Harry, it's too much. Why haven't we been attacked yet?"
"I don't know," His voice trembling harshly. "Maybe because they can't see us. Maybe because we haven't touched the trees. I just don't know how Voldemort's spell works."
"At least we know the way back to Hogwarts is that way," he said hoarsely, while pointing at the great oak, as it disappeared into the snowy darkness.
They continued on in silence, as melancholy spread through Hermione. She had hoped the Curse had been broken, that Dumbledore with all his seemingly omniscience, had fixed everything. She had tried to convince herself that Snape would be all right with Dumbledore safe-guarding him. When she found that this was not true, she became disheartened.
Hermione looked over at Harry, his pale thin body seemed to struggle with every step. His large eyes were not bright, but dull and unaware. She wondered if her own condition was so severe.
"Hermione, stop a moment," Harry grasped her wrist with his hand as he bent forward appearing on the verge of collapse. "I need to catch my breath."
Hermione knew that Harry needed much more than that.
"We need to find some sort of safe haven from the storm," Hermione said looking around the forest. "That hole should work." She pointed to one of the unnatural gaps left by a rogue tree.
They slid carefully into the deep hole.
When she had reached the bottom, Hermione stood on tip-toes looking over the rim at the moving black forest.
Huge earth chunks flopped around the hole's edges, keeping most of the wind at bay. Hermione slid down against the dirt wall, bringing her knees to her chest, as she blew warm air into her frozen hands.
She watched Harry closely. He was shaking fiercely.
"Try a Warming Spell again." Harry said in desperation as he laid his head back against the wall.
"Thermius," Hermione pointed her wand at Harry's hands.
"I think it's working." He smiled slightly opening and closing his hands.
"It must work better when we're not directly in the wind," she said as she placed spells on the rest of his body.
He returned the favor on her hands, feet and face.
Hermione felt slightly warmer, but it was a cold comfort. Her face burned, her hands itched, and her legs ached.
Harry spat, "It's those damn Dementors. They affect me so much. I was trying to ignore it, but combined with the storm, I've been getting slowly weaker. I can feel them even now freezing my insides. I wish I weren't so weak." He placed his head in his hands.
"Harry, you are not weak. Look at how you reacted in the castle. I was a wreck, and would have died if it weren't for you."
"It's only because you care so much about people that you reacted like that. I think sometimes all the violence I've been exposed to has damaged me somehow, made me feel less than I should." His words trailed off, and with that they sat in silent contemplation for a while.
Hermione felt tired and worn out. As she rested, her mind wandered to things past. Everything around her was so dark and deep and dangerous. Snape's eyes were much like that, only when she looked into them, she felt comforted, rather than frightened. The last night they had spent together, he had looked at her with such feeling and passion, his eyes drove into her heart. His warm hands had gently touched her sending tingles through her body.
She thought of his eyes and mouth and nose and was filled with warmth. She relaxed her body and mind a bit too much allowing her subconscious thoughts to invade, and in an instant, a distorted image of the tree that had grasped Ronan flickered in her mind. Only it was not Ronan, it was Snape writhing and screaming with in the dark wood. Hermione stomach tensed, and she swallowed hard trying to focus on reality rather than the unknown.
The image disturbed her so much she felt an instant need to continue on. If she was ever to face herself in the mirror, she needed to at least attempt to help the others back at Hogwarts.
"We should move on." She said holding her hand out to help Harry.
They continued to trudge forward for what seemed like hours. Hermione's mind began to feel heavy and dazed. She was no longer sure if they were even following a path, let alone going in the correct direction. Everything looked thick and dangerous.
Hermione stepped heavily, sheer will forcing her legs to move forward. She hardly paid attention, her mind numbed from the cold. Suddenly, one of her steps found itself crashing through a thin layer of ice into a cold wet stream. The rest of her body followed as she fell in, up to her waist.
"Harry, help me! Pull me out!" Hermione screamed in terror.
The water was ice cold, and she knew if she did not get out soon, she would die.
"Corpus Leviosa," and Hermione rose out of the icy water landing near Harry's feet.
She shook violently feeling sick and dazed. Harry placed a Drying Spell on her, but she was beyond cold.
"Harry, I'm so tired," She said weakly.
Even to her own ears, her words sounded forced and dull. Try as she might, she could not properly work her lips and tongue.
"It's all right Hermione. I've been in this forest before, and I think I recognize this spot." Harry comforted, "This stream is near the castle. Hogwarts is just beyond that slope."
Harry tried another Warming Spell on her, but with little success.
As they made their way uphill, Hermione kept tripping and falling into the snow. Her whole body landed awkwardly each time, her hands no longer having the reflexes to break her fall. Her legs would no longer move as she wished, and she could not tell where the ground ended and her feet began. Her legs fought her every step, yet she continued telling herself that the castle was near. She knew that if she stopped, she would die.
Thoughts and worries no longer plagued her mind, she was far too dazed and tired to think. She could no longer be scared, she could no longer feel anything. She was so dulled by the cold that she had even stopped trembling, her body no longer reacting to anything.
As they moved, the wind howled loudly. A crack sounded, and a huge tree came crashing down across their path.
The tree had almost hit her, but she was so weak and tired, she only stared dazedly at the fallen object.
Hermione could tell Harry was speaking, though she could not understand his words.
He shook her slightly and she focused on him as best she could.
"We need to levitate the tree. It's too big to move on my own. Hermione I need your help. You need to concentrate."
Hermione pointed her wand out in front of her. Her fist trembled wildly, uncontrollably. She focused all of her will at the tree, but it was so difficult. Slowly and with much wavering, the fallen tree lifted and moved aside.
The level of effort it took to do the spell made her nervous. She had always relied on her intelligence and quick wit to survive. Slowly she was losing her one advantage. She knew she would not survive much longer.
As they reached the top of the slope, Hermione saw a glow in the foggy haze of snow. Her heart leapt, and they headed toward it. This ray of hope instilled Hermione with some strength, clearing her mind and senses slightly. As they neared the light, Hermione thought she could smell smoke.
The smell of smoke and the glow became stronger until eventually, they did reach the castle.
Hermione froze as she looked up at the destruction.
Trees twisted upward like tornadoes fading into the swirling snow. Some of the timbers were on fire, giving the castle an eerie glow. The gray bark wound up the sides of the castle bending, and leaning, and crushing. The trees molded into many horrible faces, arms, mouths, eyes that screamed and cracked. The bodies were lit up in a haze of dull flashing colors.
Hermione quickly removed the spells from their eyes, and she was immediately relieved to have her human sight once more. The trees faded back into the hazy darkness, no longer could she clearly watch as they reached and lunged at her from all directions.
Lights flashed and blazed red, green and yellow.
Suddenly a great flash of white, brighter than she had ever seen before, caught her attention. She looked to find Dumbledore casting a spell. Five of the large trees disappeared.
The huge oak, that Ronan had been molded into, came round with its sharp branches impaling Dumbledore through the shoulder. As he jolted in pain, he cried another incantation, and the tree disappeared. Dumbledore toppled onto his knees holding himself up in the snow by one arm, as the other dangled lifelessly by his side.
Professor McGonagall ran to him, lifting him up against her. They retreated into the swirling snow, so that Hermione could not see where they had gone or if they were still alive.
Hagrid rushed past her, a great tree over his head, throwing it like a javelin into the distance.
Hermione realized that the trees, though dangerous, could no longer absorb her by touch.
She looked around desperately searching for Snape. She needed to know that he was alive.
A deep cold suddenly crept to her very core, and she felt ill thinking of the poor victims of the trees. The men, women, children all screamed agonizingly in her ears so that she could not think. She saw Severus' face screaming, dying, being pulled and ripped and crushed. He cried for her help, but it was hopeless. He was lost, and she had failed.
Dozens of Dementors smoothly glided towards Hermione, surrounding her, closing in from all directions.
Harry collapsed at her feet. Panic and terror engulfed Hermione, as Snape's cries echoed in her mind. Throwing off the Invisibility Cloak to help Harry, she was grabbed by slimy rotting hands. The cold burned into her skin. She squirmed and twisted fighting to get loose. She could feel her legs and body weakening, giving into the terrible cries of pain.