3

Hermione

After running past those Death Eaters and coming out alive, I feel like I can do anything. We made it to the hills alright, and traveled for a while before finding a nice little cave big enough for all of us to lay down. My heart has yet to stop pumping hard against my ribcage from the adrenaline rush.

We are in the cave sitting quietly when we hear the noise of something moving outside. I hear a human voice, and my heart leaps up to my throat while my hand instantly plunges into my pocket for my wand.

We stay still, hoping that they will leave, but I know all too well that the trail we left in the snow was easily tracked. I mentally curse myself for not realizing that, but I had been so worried that I didn't even consider the possibility of leaving a trail.

A head appears in the cave entrance, and we all point our wands to the man.

"Whoa!" the man says, kneeling down and exposing his hands. "Whoa, I come in peace."

"You're a Death Eater," I snarl, seeing the mask dangling around his neck, just below his long brown hair.

"Yes, I am," he admits, "but I have a message for you."

"Speak quickly before I change my mind and kill you," Ron hisses through gritted teeth.

The man nods and immediately starts talking. "Harry Potter is alive, though barely. He was held in the dungeons of Hogwarts for this past year, then yesterday he escaped when they brought him his dinner. A troupe of Death Eaters hunted him down, and his neck was grazed by a Reducto Curse, and he was hit with several other curses, knocking him unconscious for a bit. The Death Eaters left, believing him dead, but another Death Eater and I lingered behind, and we did all we could to try to save him, but he's in horrible shape. He died on us for a few seconds, stopped breathing and everything, but he came back to life. How that is possible, I have no idea. He is in the forest on the Hogwarts grounds, in the clearing where Harry found the dead unicorn in his first year. He is alone now, I wish to maintain my cover; the same goes for my partner. Please, locate him and give him the medical treatment he needs, the reign of the Dark Lord has gone on for too long."

"What's your name?" Ron snaps, acting as though he didn't hear a word the man said.

"McHulland, and that's all you need to know for now," the man says.

"Who is your 'partner?'" I ask. "And how do you know about that clearing where the dead unicorn was?"

"I cannot name my partner," McHulland says, bowing his head in apology. "I do not mind risking my own life, but my friend has his entire life ahead of him, I dare not put him in danger of exposure. I know of the clearing because I do."

I stare keenly at the man, at his scarred face and black eyes, and the brown hair matted down around his head. "You've risked your life coming to tell us this, but why? Why would you want to save Harry?"

The man looks at me as though I am dense. "Harry needs to be saved because he is the only one who can kill the Dark Lord, as stated in the prophesy given 18 years ago. If he does not fulfill his destiny, the Dark Lord's power will grow and soon it will not matter to him whether you are friend or foe — you will die anyway. The entire Wizarding World depends on Harry's survival."

I have nothing to save to this. I know exactly which prophesy he is speaking of, but it was smashed nearly 2 years ago during our 5th year at Hogwarts. I turn, instead, towards Ron who's expression is a mixture of shock, anger, and disbelief.

"You're bluffing," Ron says resolutely.

The Death Eater sighs and runs his hand back over his head, pushing down his hood. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if gaining strength, and then speaks again. "When I return to Hogwarts, the Dark Lord will kill me. It is my fate, but I do not want to go to the grave knowing that I never did anything to stop this war. I have given you information that you can choose to use, or not. Whether or not you trust me is none of my concern. At least I know, in my heart, that I did not give the Dark Lord a clear path to utter control. The rest, I leave in your hands. It is your decision, now. I have done all I can."

He disappears from the cave, and we hear his heavy steps through the snow before a loud crack informs us that he has Apparated.

"Bloody idiot," Ron sighs. "He knew You-Know-Who would kill him, yet he still returned to him."

I turn to look at Ginny. She is as white as the snow outside, each freckle on her nose standing out clearly. "What do you think, Ginny?" I ask.

She snaps her head up and looks at me. "I-If Harry is. . . is alive. . . we can't just leave him. . . ."

"It could be an ambush!" Ron hollers, rounding on Ginny. "What if that git was just lying about everything, and You-Know-Who is just waiting for us in that forest?"

"I believed him!" Ginny says hotly, her ears reddening.

"Just like you believed Tom Riddle?" Ron says scathingly.

As quickly as Ginny has reddened, she has now paled again. "How. . . . How dare you!"

"I'm just saying you're too quick to trust people," Ron says defensively.

"No you weren't. You think I'm gullible. You think I don't know anything, do you? You'll always think of me as some little girl. Well I'll tell you something, Ronald, I'm sixteen years old. I'm not little anymore, and I can, in fact, make my own decisions. And I've decided to go to Hogwarts to save Harry." She heads towards the entrance to the cave, her face defiant, her hand clenched around her wand.

"Wait a second, Ginny," I say, holding out my hand and holding her back.

"No, Hermione," Ginny says, ripping her arm from my grasp. "Not this time. We have an opportunity to go do something, actually do something, and you want to just sit here, waiting for someone to find us?"

"No," I say, slightly offended, "I just wanted you to wait. I'm coming with you."

Ginny's eyes widen as a smile tickles the corner of her lips. "Really?"

I nod, and look at Ron. "Well, General, I trust you'll hold the camp while we're gone?"

"Shut up, you're not leaving me here," Ron says, his ears burning red. He climbs out of the cave with us, and I catch him giving Ginny an angry glare.

I look ahead to the mountain ranges ahead of us. The sky above us is blue, but ahead towards the direction of Hogwarts, the sky is filled with angry gray clouds. Ginny and Ron stand on either side of me.

"Looks cheerful over there, doesn't it?" Ron says humorously, but I can hear the small quaver of fear in his voice.

"Let's go," Ginny says, moving forward and struggling through the thick snow.

Ron follows her, and for a second I remain where I am. I look back towards our hut, and see black smoke staining the sky. Turning back towards Hogwarts, I take a deep breath.

Ron yells to me to hurry up, and I nod.

"I'm coming, Harry," I say quietly, following in Ron and Ginny's path.

-

Harry

There's a loud thumping in my ears as I ease back into consciousness. My throat is sore and dry as I take a breath. I try to open my eyes, but I have no energy to even do that.

I'm aware of few things. There's a bandage around my neck, a cloak acting as a blanket covering my body, and the burning sun staining my eyelids red.

I take another trembling breath, and slip back out of consciousness.

....

I wake up again. It's colder now, and I realize it must be night. The thumping in my ears is still there, but this time I realize it's my blood pumping through my veins.

I don't know where I am, I don't remember why I'm here, and I don't know if I can move.

I try focusing my energy into moving, but I get tired quickly. I twitch my hand, but that's it.

My scar is burning painfully, meaning only one thing. Voldemort just killed someone.

I'm so tired and cold. I hope someone finds me before the werewolves.

....

It's still nighttime when I wake again. I don't know if it's the same night as before. I suppose I could have been asleep for days.

I open my eyes this time. I can see the sky above me, glittering with stars. It's a full moon tonight.

I wonder where Professor Lupin is. I hope he survived.

....

"Harry!"

I wake up to someone calling my name.

"Harry, wake up!"

I try opening my eyes, and succeed a little bit, but it's daytime and the sun is directly above me. I shut my eyes in pain.

"He's waking up. . . ."

"We need to hurry. . . him somewhere safe. . . ."

The voices move in and out of clarity amidst a loud rushing noise; whether it is because of roaring winds or my own inability to remain conscious, I have no idea.

"Help me carry him. . . . Death Eaters. . . . Voldemort. . . ."

"Don't say the name. . . ."

". . . still bleeding. . . ."

"Hurry!"

I try moving my lips to say 'Hermione!' because I know it's her. I'd know that voice anywhere, even on the brink of death.

"Shh, Harry, don't talk. . . ."

I feel myself being lifted from the snow.

-

Hermione

"Hermione, you should get some sleep. Harry's not waking up any time soon."

"Quiet, Ron. What if he does wake up, and I'm not here? Besides, I'm not tired."

"Suit yourself."

I lean back over Harry's prone body. We brought him to the mountain above Hogsmeade, for lack of a better shelter. Some of Sirius' old newspapers still litter the ground, and there is still the occasional chicken bone among the loose gravel. It is haunting to be back in the place where Sirius hid for the better part of a year, and I know that when Harry wakes up he will be unhappy to be here as well, but we didn't really have a choice.

He's sleeping so quietly now. Ginny and I managed to heal the wound on his neck, along with many internal injuries, upon arriving at the cave. He's been asleep since then.

I brush my hair out of my face and turn my head. Ginny is at the entrance to the cave, looking out at the dying sun with a wistful look on her face. It has started snowing again, and the soft flakes fall from the sky soundlessly. As I watch her, Ginny turns and looks back at Harry, her brow furrowing and her lips pressing tightly together. She then turns back to the snow and the wistful look is back.

Turning my head the other way, I see Ron sitting huddled in the very back of the cave. He's clutching his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees, an angry scowl transforming his face. Next to him is a sack of food the Death Eaters left with Harry filled with bread, flasks of water and juice, some meat, and an apple tart.

And I look back to Harry. So calm. So peaceful. And yet. . . so troubled. So pained. I reach out and brush some of his hair from his eyes, thus uncovering his scar. I look at the jagged line for really the first time ever. I'd only glanced at it before, thinking it would be rude to stare. But Harry is asleep, and I'm free to stare without being ashamed.

I run my index finger over the pink mark. It's raised slightly from his skin, and burning with a fiery intensity. Voldemort must be up to something.

I stand up and go to the entrance of the cave.

"Hermione, what—?" Ginny starts to say, but she stops when I shake my head at her.

I stop and rip off a part of the sleeve of my cloak. Bending down, I scoop some snow into it, and wrap it up, carrying it back to Harry. I press the ice pack against his scar, hoping to cool it a bit so he won't wake up.

As I press it, he parts his lips briefly and sighs. "Hermione," he says softly.

"Shh, Harry," I hush.

After a few minutes, I toss the cloth aside, and settle back in at Harry's side. I locate his hand, and hold it in my own, thinking that maybe if I tried hard enough, I could transfer some life out of me and into him. I gently graze my thumb over the top of his hand.

It gets progressively darker in the cave as the sun goes down, and my two sleepless days start to catch up to me. Ginny has moved to the back of the cave and is sitting with Ron who has thrown an arm around her shoulders. Her head is resting on his shoulder, and she appears to be asleep. Ron, meanwhile, is watching me.

"Where do we go from here?" Ron asks, his voice barely a whisper.

I shake my head and look down. "Anywhere we can."

In a land of death where you are the prey, what choice do you have but to keep running? The primary animal instinct is survival, and despite the differences between man and beast, in the end we're both the same; we'd both rather save our own skin than go into certain death.

It's now completely dark in our cave. Neither Ron nor I dare to light a wand for fear of Death Eaters seeing the beam from the town.

I ease myself into a lying-down position next to Harry, keeping his hand tight in mine. My thoughts are whirring around in my head; thoughts of Hogwarts, of my parents, of Voldemort, of that Death Eater who told us where Harry was, the list goes on. But of all of those thoughts, only one matters. I'm with Harry again.

-

My eyes snap open. It's still dark, and it takes me a moment before I realize what has woken me, but when I do I sit bolt upright.

Harry is no longer next to me.

I scan my eyes around the cave, urging them to adjust to the darkness, but I can see no silhouette belonging to the Boy Who Lived. Panic overtakes me.

I stand up and run to the entrance of the cave and I instantly breath in a sigh of relief. Harry is sitting on the edge of the rock, gazing out on Hogsmeade. He turns and smiles at me.

"Hey," he says. "Did I wake you?"

"No," I say, brushing the hair from my face. "What are you doing out here?"

Harry shrugs. "It's always so quiet and beautiful at night. I've missed seeing the stars and moon."

A gust of wind swirls around us, and I hug myself tight. "It's cold out here, why don't you come in?"

He struggles standing up, and I have to hold a hand to his back to steady him. Once we are inside, we settle back down on the ground.

"How do you feel?" I ask, spreading the cloak across both of us.

"Alright. Nothing hurting, really, but I get short of breath really quickly. It's very annoying."

"Must be all of this fresh air," I suggest. "Are you hungry?"

He nods, specks of snow tumbling out of his jet black hair.

I snatch my wand. "Accio food!" The sack of food slides across the floor and stops before me. I open it up and pull out some pumpkin juice and bread.

"Where'd you get this food?" Harry asks, taking the loaf of bread I've offered him.

"Death Eaters left it for us," I say.

Harry drops the loaf as though it is a bomb about to explode. "Are you crazy?"

"Don't worry, we've checked it for curses. It's all clean."

Harry picks up the bread again and takes a tiny bite out of one edge which he then proceeds to chew for an extraordinary amount of time. Swallowing, licking his lips, and waiting for something to happen, he finally deems the food safe and stuffs the bread into his mouth.

"So I've been thinking," Harry says conversationally.

"Oh? Didn't hurt yourself, did you?" I say crisply, smiling at him.

He scowls at me, but continues as if he didn't hear me. "We need to go back to Hogwarts."

I freeze and slowly bring my eyes up to meet his. "You want to go back?"

"We have to, don't we? We don't have any other place to go."

"And how would you know that?" I ask. "I thought you were unconscious."

Now, for the first time, Harry loses his beat. He turns his eyes down to the food and I can sense a tightness about him. "In Hogwarts. . . I heard things. And also. . . the nightmares. . . they didn't go away. I know that Voldemort's controlling most of England and Scotland. I also knew that they knew where you guys were hiding. That's why I tried to escape. . . to warn you. . . to save you."

I decide this is a tender subject and quickly change it. "But why Hogwarts? There are Death Eaters there. . . not to mention Voldemort. . . ."

"It isn't their operating grounds," Harry says, finding his rhythm and looking back up at me. "Their base is at Malfoy Manor in London. There can't be more than 20 Death Eaters permanently staying at Hogwarts, and their main task is to guard me and the other prisoners. They won't anticipate an attack. . . they think that all of the wizards in hiding will go for the heart — Voldemort."

"But if we get control of Hogwarts. . ." I start to say, seeing where Harry is going with this.

"If we get control of Hogwarts, the Monster's got one less arm," he says matter-of-factly, taking a giant swig of Pumpkin Juice. "We can contact the other refugees and offer them shelter at the castle. If we can find someone to set up the Hogwarts defenses again, all we have to do is protect the castle from another attack, and this time no traitor will mess it all up."

I smile. Brilliant. "We need to start planning. Do you know where else the Death Eaters are calling home? Anywhere near?"

"The closest place I know of is in the English countryside. Hardly a threat."

I nod, snatching up a bit of bread and sticking it in my mouth. A few minutes later, the food is back in the bag and we are laying down together, side by side, staring up at the rugged cave ceiling.

I am about to fall asleep when a thought occurs to me, and I sit bolt upright. "Harry," I whisper, shaking his shoulders.

"Mmm," he grunts, opening his eyes groggily. "Wassamatter?"

"The traitor. . . you know who it is," I say, suddenly out of breath.

Harry awakens quickly, and sits up. "You mean you don't?"

I shake my head. "We never found out. . . ."

Harry sighs and runs a hand through his already messy hair. "You're not going to believe this," he says softly, shaking his head slowly.

Harry looks up at me and takes my hand in his. He just looks at me for a moment, seeming to forget what we were talking about. I am about to prompt him when he heaves a great sigh and bites his lower lip.

"The person who opened those gates, who betrayed us all, who killed many and sent the rest running was Michael Corner," Harry says, his voice bitter with a hint of sadness. "Member of the DA, Ginny's ex-boyfriend, newly appointed Prefect, and Cho Chang's current boyfriend."

I sit in stunned silence.

Harry lays back down and rolls to his side, his back to me. "He was there when they killed Cho. He didn't even cry," he says heavily.

I close my eyes, memories of Ginny's excitement of being with Michael echoing in my head. I turn and look to the red-head asleep on Ron's shoulder. Two years ago that boy had given her her first kiss; I remember the night it happened very clearly. Ginny had been so excited when she had rushed into the 5th year girls dorm and woken me up.

"It was perfect, Hermione. Perfect."

I can't understand any of it. Why would he go to Voldemort? He was in the DA. . . he knew the awful things Voldemort did. . . .

My eyelids grow heavier with each passing minute, and finally I give in to sleep and slump down at Harry's side, deciding to ponder Michael's path in the morning.

-

-

A/N Whew. It's been a while, eh? Yeah. . . sorry about that. . . I won't go into details, but let's just say my life has been one hell of a roller coaster these past two months. I'm awfully sorry I didn't update sooner, but I really couldn't pull myself together to complete the chapter.

JeanieBeanie33 - Yes, I do like to write tragedy stories. I think that emotions are the hardest thing to write, and I'm always up for the challenge. And tragedy is just such an emotionally-packed genre — layer after layer of feelings — that I must admit I am very drawn to it. One day I will sit down and just write a story not so. . . dramatic or angsty. . . and I'll see how it turns out. But since right now I am a 15 year old girl in the midst of high school surrounded on all sides by teenage angst and misery, tragedy is what I'll write.

Alright, guys. A big thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (I hope you're still reading this story. . . nevermind remembering the plot. . . .) and I hope you'll drop a review and let me know what you want to happen. . . or not happen. . . either way, I'd appreciate hearing from you.

peace out

felony melanie