One Tin Soldier
Chapter Six: Thunder and Thorns
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!
~~~~~
Harry looked around the table at the others staring at him, first to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. The twins had begun to unconsciously stand, glaring, because someone had insulted their mother. Bill and Charlie shook their heads and sighed heavily, relaxing again. Ron and Ginny stared at Harry, mouths open. Moodey looked as if he were going to go into shock. Lupin brushed past Harry immediately and began to run out the door into the pouring rain, which seemed odd to Harry because up until this point, he had not noticed that it was raining, and it seemed silly to be yelling out there since everyone was inside. A heavy shock of thunder rolled through the room, rattling the plates in the cupboards.
"Hermione!!! Hermione!!"
Harry heard Lupin's voice echo, muffled through the rain, and quite suddenly everything that had just happened rushed up at him and he choked. Something cold seemed to slip into his stomach as he realized what he had done, who Lupin was yelling for, that it was getting dark and it was raining. Harry gathered his thoughts and took a deep breath which came back out in more of a choking sound, but it was good enough considering matters at hand.
"S...m'sorry..."
He turned and ran towards the door to leap outside, but quite suddenly he felt a rather strong grip on his arm. He turned and stared at Arthur Weasley, who had an unreadable look on his face.
Harry vaguely wondered if he would be killed.
Mr. Weasley pushed a heavy rain slicker into his arms, and squeezed his arm again. Harry looked up at him, and at Mrs. Weasley who was standing beside her husband. He gasped for air, trying to find words. At that moment, Lupin ran in, completely soaked and shivering madly.
Harry looked up. "I have to find her."
Lupin nodded and took his glasses as he slipped on the slicker, 'impervius' echoing in his ears. He stopped, looking at the Weasleys.
Pausing for a moment he bowed his head, "I was wrong, I..."
A hand went through his hair and Mrs. Weasley looked down at him with tears on her cheeks. He looked up in surprise.
"You'd better both come back safe, Harry..."
The boy ran into the darkness. He looked back through the pitch black, at the small lit doorway, the hand bidding him well.
He grabbed his Firebolt and flew into the sky, scanning the ground.
~~~~~
The thorns were becoming too thick to see through. Harry was getting immensely frustrated, angry that Hermione had chosen such a ridiculously difficult place to run to. That was her, difficult. He sighed, both annoyed and worried, and spluttered on the water in his mouth.
He had no idea why he was so worried, or why it mattered so much. His brow crooked as he looked below. The water seemed to be flowing in little rivers on the ground, and his heart stopped a bit. He remembered Ron telling him that the low-lying areas around his home had a tendency to flood in short and violent spurts during summer rain, and that George had come very close to drowning when he was very young because he had been caught in one playing seeker-snitch with his brother.
~Hermione had better be smart enough to go for higher ground..~
An angry growl of thunder echoed again and Harry looked nervously at the sky. He licked his lips, frustrated and worried. Without warning, a blinding light burst above him, and he was half-knocked off of his broom. He shook his head, determined to keep looking. He wasn't going to lose his blasted friend because of a storm.
"It'd be good training for Quiddich, if it weren't for the fact that it could kill you," He muttered.
Harry stared at the ground obsessively, looking for any flash of brown hair or cloak. He wondered why he hadn't seen her yet before he remembered that a person on foot could probably move faster than a broom-rider against the wind. He considered touching down, but thought against it given the visual advantage he had. Hermione would probably slow down from cold after awhile- much as Harry hated to think of it, it was still an advantage.
The wind pushed him sideways a bit, and despite the slicker Harry shivered. It was getting harder and harder to see. He guessed that the spell was wearing off. He let go of the broom handle and raised his wand to tap his glasses, looking nervously down at the increasingly forceful deluge moving through the valley with his blurred sight. He tapped the glasses, his voice lost in the gust of wind that stole them away from him and knocked him off of his broom.
Harry yelled out as they fell away from him, and grasped the handle of his broom in a trembling grasp. The slick handle glimmered at him in the lightning flashes, and a horrible memory of the demise of his Nimbus echoed in his head. Harry heard the rush of water burst beneath him, and looked down at the brown, roiling wetness.
A sudden burst of lightning flashed directly above him, the shock of it costing Harry his grip. The broom flew, safely, into the thorns beside the river. Harry, however, was not that lucky.
Gasping, he hit the waves hard and struggled for the shore, holding onto a vine. He coughed hard, and knew at that moment that he was going to die.
~~~~~
A/N: yeah, a shorty, but the next one is coming tonight too.
Chapter Six: Thunder and Thorns
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!
~~~~~
Harry looked around the table at the others staring at him, first to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. The twins had begun to unconsciously stand, glaring, because someone had insulted their mother. Bill and Charlie shook their heads and sighed heavily, relaxing again. Ron and Ginny stared at Harry, mouths open. Moodey looked as if he were going to go into shock. Lupin brushed past Harry immediately and began to run out the door into the pouring rain, which seemed odd to Harry because up until this point, he had not noticed that it was raining, and it seemed silly to be yelling out there since everyone was inside. A heavy shock of thunder rolled through the room, rattling the plates in the cupboards.
"Hermione!!! Hermione!!"
Harry heard Lupin's voice echo, muffled through the rain, and quite suddenly everything that had just happened rushed up at him and he choked. Something cold seemed to slip into his stomach as he realized what he had done, who Lupin was yelling for, that it was getting dark and it was raining. Harry gathered his thoughts and took a deep breath which came back out in more of a choking sound, but it was good enough considering matters at hand.
"S...m'sorry..."
He turned and ran towards the door to leap outside, but quite suddenly he felt a rather strong grip on his arm. He turned and stared at Arthur Weasley, who had an unreadable look on his face.
Harry vaguely wondered if he would be killed.
Mr. Weasley pushed a heavy rain slicker into his arms, and squeezed his arm again. Harry looked up at him, and at Mrs. Weasley who was standing beside her husband. He gasped for air, trying to find words. At that moment, Lupin ran in, completely soaked and shivering madly.
Harry looked up. "I have to find her."
Lupin nodded and took his glasses as he slipped on the slicker, 'impervius' echoing in his ears. He stopped, looking at the Weasleys.
Pausing for a moment he bowed his head, "I was wrong, I..."
A hand went through his hair and Mrs. Weasley looked down at him with tears on her cheeks. He looked up in surprise.
"You'd better both come back safe, Harry..."
The boy ran into the darkness. He looked back through the pitch black, at the small lit doorway, the hand bidding him well.
He grabbed his Firebolt and flew into the sky, scanning the ground.
~~~~~
The thorns were becoming too thick to see through. Harry was getting immensely frustrated, angry that Hermione had chosen such a ridiculously difficult place to run to. That was her, difficult. He sighed, both annoyed and worried, and spluttered on the water in his mouth.
He had no idea why he was so worried, or why it mattered so much. His brow crooked as he looked below. The water seemed to be flowing in little rivers on the ground, and his heart stopped a bit. He remembered Ron telling him that the low-lying areas around his home had a tendency to flood in short and violent spurts during summer rain, and that George had come very close to drowning when he was very young because he had been caught in one playing seeker-snitch with his brother.
~Hermione had better be smart enough to go for higher ground..~
An angry growl of thunder echoed again and Harry looked nervously at the sky. He licked his lips, frustrated and worried. Without warning, a blinding light burst above him, and he was half-knocked off of his broom. He shook his head, determined to keep looking. He wasn't going to lose his blasted friend because of a storm.
"It'd be good training for Quiddich, if it weren't for the fact that it could kill you," He muttered.
Harry stared at the ground obsessively, looking for any flash of brown hair or cloak. He wondered why he hadn't seen her yet before he remembered that a person on foot could probably move faster than a broom-rider against the wind. He considered touching down, but thought against it given the visual advantage he had. Hermione would probably slow down from cold after awhile- much as Harry hated to think of it, it was still an advantage.
The wind pushed him sideways a bit, and despite the slicker Harry shivered. It was getting harder and harder to see. He guessed that the spell was wearing off. He let go of the broom handle and raised his wand to tap his glasses, looking nervously down at the increasingly forceful deluge moving through the valley with his blurred sight. He tapped the glasses, his voice lost in the gust of wind that stole them away from him and knocked him off of his broom.
Harry yelled out as they fell away from him, and grasped the handle of his broom in a trembling grasp. The slick handle glimmered at him in the lightning flashes, and a horrible memory of the demise of his Nimbus echoed in his head. Harry heard the rush of water burst beneath him, and looked down at the brown, roiling wetness.
A sudden burst of lightning flashed directly above him, the shock of it costing Harry his grip. The broom flew, safely, into the thorns beside the river. Harry, however, was not that lucky.
Gasping, he hit the waves hard and struggled for the shore, holding onto a vine. He coughed hard, and knew at that moment that he was going to die.
~~~~~
A/N: yeah, a shorty, but the next one is coming tonight too.