CHAPTER 4
The Witching Hour.
Hermione smiled, as she glanced at the clock. Just three minutes left to go. The whole plan depended on punctuality and order. The Burrow had recently been protected by all manner of spells and shields. They formed a complex, but invisible netting around the cottage, and were constantly shifting this way and that, without leaving any gap between them, making it virtually impossible to leave unless it was switched off.
But Hermione knew exactly when a gap would be available. At four minutes to midnight, she would crawl down the window, and walk five paces to the left. Then, she would count to seven, and it would be midnight- exactly when a gap would appear in the nexus, two meters away from the gate. At this point, she would have to scale the wall. Once outside, she was safe.
She quickly checked that she hadn't left anything behind. She was dressed in a long, loose black robe, and mask. She carried nothing but a small purse in her pocket, containing strong poison.
Protection.
She checked her watch again. Two minutes...
Hermione's mind began to wonder. Her thoughts shifted to Harry, sleeping in the next room. The Weasleys, stirring with worry because of Ron's disappearance.
There came a tinkle of glass from below. She stiffened. Someone was down on a nocturnal romp- meaning this might foil her escape. She checked her watch. One and a half minutes...perhaps she could rush down check if everything was okay, and rush back up again...
She dropped her purse on the bed.
She crept to out of her room to the landing, and listening cautiously. Yes- a footstep, soft and cautious.
She made her way to the top of the stairs, and strained her eyes against the swallowing darkness outside. She could make out a faint line of light...someone was in the kitchen.
She began to tiptoe down the staircase. Four steps more...three steps more...she checked her watch. She had about a minute left.
All of a sudden, the door to the kitchen was flung open. Hermione threw herself into the shadows, praying she had not been seen.
Harry was standing at the doorway, clad in a soft white dressing gown. He was clutching a mug of hot cocoa in his hand. He was looking slight puzzled.
'Is anyone there?' he asked, softly.
No reply. Hermione tried to steady her breathing.
'Anyone there?' he asked, slightly louder this time.
Hermione remained silent. From the darkness, she stared straight into his eyes.
All of a sudden, she began to feel icy fingers probing into her mind, trying to penetrate it. A feeling of wooziness came over her.
What the-
Shit!
Legilamency! Harry was trying to read her mind. With a start, she realized she was staring straight at his eyes, making it easier for him.
She tore her gaze away, and concentrated on pushing away the icy tendrils that were probing at her mind. Slowly, she felt them lessen.
She turned her gaze back at Harry. He looked disappointed.
He turned on his heel, and strode out f the hall. Soon, she heard the front door slam.
She checked her watch.
Twenty seconds!
Gasping, she rushed up the stairs, and across the landing.
Ten seconds...
She launched herself at the window. Just as she was doing so, she remembered something- her purse!
She whirled around- where was it! Suddenly, she caught sight of it, lying on the bed. She hurled herself at it.
Her fingers grasped the velvety cloth.
Five seconds...
She turned, and glanced at the window, the wind had slammed it shut. She rushed across to it.
Three seconds.
The shutter!
Her fingers fumbled with it, trying to get it open. If she didn't leave in exactly two seconds, she would miss the gap!
The shutter slammed open.
Finally!
With a feeling of relief, she swung herself out onto the window pane, and began descending. She mad made it in time.
Her fingers began searching for cracks in the wall, and vines which she could use to climb down. At one point, she felt her feet hit the pipe that ran along the side of the house. With a feeling of relief, she began to shin down it. Soon, she was standing on firm ground.
Five paces to the left, she reminded herself. She measured them approximately, and found herself standing about a meter away from the gate. Now she would count slowly to seven, hurl herself about a meter to the left, and scale up the wall.
One...
She scanned the wall, looking for cracks or dents that would help her climb it.
Two...
She noticed a deep crack, about one third the distance up the wall. That would help her.
Three...
There were no other cracks...it would be difficult.
Four...
An idea. She reached down, and fumbled for a stone. Got one!
Five...
She raised up, and took carefully aim.
Six...
She hurled the stone with all her might. She hoped it had hit the right place. She would just have to make a dash for it.
Seven!
She threw herself at the wall. She knew the gap wouldn't last for more than four seconds.
Her fingers fumbled, and she felt the first crack. She quickly hoisted a leg on it.
Please let there be a second gap.
She ran her hands across the wall, and to her intense relief, found another indentation. Quickly, she climbed up, and threw herself on the other side of the wall.
She was out.
And she would never return.