"Harry! Harry! Run!" her voice pitched a scream, as her hands pushed frantically at his back, urging him to move, get himself out of range. He grasped her hand and whirled, looking for a way out amidst the shrieking light of wand-fire. There! A doorway! He leapt for it, nearly dragging her behind him. And then, "Harry! Look out!" He spun at her voice, instead of ducking or dodging. She slammed into him hard, almost knocking him over as he still pursued the sanctuary of the door.
Ron's red hair jerked into view on the other side of the door, he beckoned them desperately, and Harry lunged into the doorway, dragging her limp form with him. Ron slammed the door shut and bolted it, not that locks would do any good once they discovered Harry was in the room. He looked around for a way out, and discovered a box hidden under the bed. He pulled it out, his red hair falling in his eyes as he opened the lid to discover a Portkey. The old owner of this building must have traveled frequently; the house was full of tricks and traps that led to the furthest corners of the world- which was exactly where the three wanted to be at this exact moment.
"Harry," Ron motioned over. Harry inched forward, still grasping her hand. Ron grabbed Harry's free hand and murmured, "Hang on tight," as he took hold of the Portkey, a mitten.
The all-too familiar jerk nearly cost Harry his lunch, as they slammed to the ground into something soft, wet, and very, very cold. Ron dusted snow from his hair, sputtering at the ice in his mouth, "Merlin's beard, why does this always happen to us!?" He turned to see Harry cradling her head, his black bowed over her brown, "Harry?"
The redhead got no response, so he dumped himself on his knees beside the other boy, "Harry? What is it?"
Harry shook his head, his shoulders quivering oddly. Ron leaned forward, when suddenly, Harry let out a shaking cry. Ron fell back, but quickly recovered himself and pried Harry's hands away from her body. She was pale, too pale to be alive, and her skin was like touching ice.
She was dead.
Ron dropped his hands in utter shock. She was gone... Ron shook his head in disbelief, falling back again, "No..."
They could practically hear Voldemort's laugh resounding in the high mountains where they had landed. He had killed her.
Harry lifted his head to the sky and screamed, screamed till his throat cried in agony, till Ron threw his arms around his best friend and sobbed like a child into his chest. Harry clutched at Ron, lowering his head to huddle against the other as they cried, each holding on to their best friend, their third link, their Hermione.
Ron's red hair jerked into view on the other side of the door, he beckoned them desperately, and Harry lunged into the doorway, dragging her limp form with him. Ron slammed the door shut and bolted it, not that locks would do any good once they discovered Harry was in the room. He looked around for a way out, and discovered a box hidden under the bed. He pulled it out, his red hair falling in his eyes as he opened the lid to discover a Portkey. The old owner of this building must have traveled frequently; the house was full of tricks and traps that led to the furthest corners of the world- which was exactly where the three wanted to be at this exact moment.
"Harry," Ron motioned over. Harry inched forward, still grasping her hand. Ron grabbed Harry's free hand and murmured, "Hang on tight," as he took hold of the Portkey, a mitten.
The all-too familiar jerk nearly cost Harry his lunch, as they slammed to the ground into something soft, wet, and very, very cold. Ron dusted snow from his hair, sputtering at the ice in his mouth, "Merlin's beard, why does this always happen to us!?" He turned to see Harry cradling her head, his black bowed over her brown, "Harry?"
The redhead got no response, so he dumped himself on his knees beside the other boy, "Harry? What is it?"
Harry shook his head, his shoulders quivering oddly. Ron leaned forward, when suddenly, Harry let out a shaking cry. Ron fell back, but quickly recovered himself and pried Harry's hands away from her body. She was pale, too pale to be alive, and her skin was like touching ice.
She was dead.
Ron dropped his hands in utter shock. She was gone... Ron shook his head in disbelief, falling back again, "No..."
They could practically hear Voldemort's laugh resounding in the high mountains where they had landed. He had killed her.
Harry lifted his head to the sky and screamed, screamed till his throat cried in agony, till Ron threw his arms around his best friend and sobbed like a child into his chest. Harry clutched at Ron, lowering his head to huddle against the other as they cried, each holding on to their best friend, their third link, their Hermione.