CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: Escape
Harry's mind was still active and alert from the Auror exam, something he was grateful for because it allowed him to keep one step ahead of his pursuers. But that advantage was quickly dissolving as the gray skies opened up and rain was now pelting down around him. He used the repellent charm on his glasses that Hermione had taught him all those years back, but the rain was so heavy even a person with perfect vision would have trouble seeing. Another problem was that even with all the rain Harry Potter was still one of the most recognizable people in the wizarding world. He wanted to discard his drenched robe, but that would have made him stick out with the muggle clothes he had on underneath.
He was doing his best to remain hidden, while drawing the two trailers he had spotted away from Ron and Hermione. He snuck a look around the corner of the building he was hiding behind and was greeted with an explosion of wand fire that hit the bricks of the building, only narrowly missing his head. He leaned back against the bricks, breathing heavily. They were too close to outrun. What he needed to do was buy himself some time. Even he knew taking on two armed and dangerous Death Eaters would be a foolish thing to do.
But there was still one advantage he had that they didn't. Snape would kill him if he knew what he was about to do, and for that matter Lupin probably would do the same, but the way he saw it he didn't have any other choice.
Steadying his breathing, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the thoughts and feelings that a Death Eater would have in order to separate them from any other presence in the area. He didn't even know if this would work. The only other times his when his so-called mind powers had showed up were when he was angry and hadn't even needed to think about it. He was probably just wasting time when he should have been trying to put as much distance between himself and the Death Eaters as possible.
He could feel something in his mind that was not his own, followed by another set of thoughts that were uniquely different. He choked out a gasp at the myriad of horrifying images playing through his head. He tried shutting them out but couldn't. He needed to concentrate. He needed to make them see that their search was futile, that they would never find him in this weather and they would be better off returning to their master. He could feel their hesitation but it wasn't enough. He tried to press the urgency that they needed to leave, which conflicted with their thoughts that their master would be severely disappointed if they returned empty handed. He sent the thought to them that there would be many more opportunities to capture Harry Potter and his friends, and that it would be in their best interests – and that of their master – if they left now before someone noticed them. Their disappointment echoed in his mind, but he needed one more thing from them. Who do you serve? A brief image flashed in his mind and he had his answer.
He held his breath; knowing how close one of the Death Eaters was to him now. If he so much as breathed, he would be seen and invading the Death Eaters minds would have been all for nothing.
The seconds ticked by, but the sounds of retreating footsteps could at last be heard, splashing loudly in the puddles.
Harry invaded their minds one last time, needing to be certain their retreat was genuine. Their anger and frustration rang loudly in his head at having lost their intended target, but so did their resolve that there would be other chances to abduct him. He let go of the hold he had on their minds and let his shoulders slump in relief. He hung his head, the mental exertion of what he had done taking its toll on his body. He wasn't even aware his body was sliding down the wall, until it collapsed on the ground, the rain continuing to pound down around him.
As she listened to the rainfall, Hermione began to accept she and Ron had managed to elude the Death Eaters chasing after them. Even now she marveled at how they had been able to escape when they had been so close to be being captured.
Once they had separated from Harry, the Death Eaters no longer seemed to care about stealth with their cover blown. They tried to lose themselves in the crowds of people, but that was only a temporary solution. Hermione decided their best chance for escape would be to hide in muggle London. It would provide them with the advantage, as she would be much more familiar with the muggle world than the Death Eaters would. So she and Ron discarded their robes, which were too heavy to run in anyways, and crossed the construction barrier that led them back to the muggle world. It wasn't long before two cloaked figures crossed the same barrier and continued to give chase.
After ten more minutes of running and dodging through streets and alleys, combined with the torrential downpour of rain, Ron told her they couldn't keep this up. They needed to escape, not stay a couple of minutes ahead of their pursuers. What Hermione needed was time to catch her breath and think. If they had the ability to apparate they could have gotten themselves out of this perilous situation long before now, but they didn't have either of those luxuries. However, inspiration came to her when she spotted their escape parked on the side of the road. She grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him into the stationed taxicab.
They jumped inside and Hermione shouted the first destination that came to mind. The driver gave them a strange stare as they were both soaking wet and looked like they had been out running a marathon, before turning back around and starting up the cab. She and Ron looked out the back window, watching as the Death Eaters began to look smaller and smaller as they sped away.
She had never been more thankful that she still bothered to carry muggle money around with her. It was more out of habit than anything else, but it had proved useful then because at least they wouldn't have to flee the cab and worry about someone else chasing after them. She had got the cab driver to let them off a block away from their destinations. Then she quickly paid and they got out.
She was almost certain they had not been followed. Even if the Death Eaters had apparated, it would have been useless because they had no idea where she and Ron had been heading. She also knew they couldn't chance heading back to Lupin's until they were sure they had not been followed. They couldn't risk revealing the location and endangering Lupin and Ginny's lives in the process.
But the more she allowed herself to think about it, the more she realized it was probably a foolish idea to hide out in the one muggle location the Death Eaters could find, as they had found it once before. She hadn't had much time to think about where to go and this had seemed like the most logical place at the time. She took some comfort in the fact that Voldemort and his followers must have known that after their first attack on her parents, they would go into hiding. As far as they were concerned the house had new owners.
Her father had kept the house, though, hoping that one day they would be able to return to it, or maybe he just had not wanted to let go of the place he had lived with his wife since the day they married. A large number of her family's belongings remained there, as her father had wanted to leave as quickly as possible, buying almost everything new that sat in their Luxembourg home. The power had been cut with no one living there, but she wouldn't have chanced turning on a light anyways.
She didn't think Ron was entirely satisfied with their current place of hiding. He went upstairs to use one of the bedroom windows to get a better look at the street, wanting to be certain they hadn't been followed. He was busying himself with that while she went to look for some dry clothes for them. When she came back to her room, Ron still had his face near the glass window.
"This was all I could find," she said, dropping onto her bed a sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans her father used to wear when he was doing work around the house. Not for the first time she wished she was of age and could just do a drying charm on their clothes.
He turned away from the window at hearing her voice. He could see her features etched in concern. "Harry's all right," he said to her, saying what was on both their minds. "He survived a week under the capture of Death Eaters. That means he can outsmart the one's stupid enough to follow him." The truth was they didn't know how many had gone for Harry, and it was taking every ounce of self-control he possessed not to risk everything and go look for his friend.
"I know," she responded, though she didn't sound very convinced at all. She hugged her arms tighter around herself.
Ron came to stand in front of her. "You're freezing," he said, placing his arms on hers and feeling her shake beneath his touch.
"I'm okay," she said in the same less than convincing voice she had spoke in earlier. "What about you?"
"Me? Weasley's are just as thick skinned as they are thick headed," he said, grinning lopsided at her.
For the dire circumstances they were in, Ron had the amazing ability to make even the most serious of situations more relaxed. She wondered what a sight the two of them must look, standing there completely drenched, their clothes clinging to them, with their hair tangled and matted to their foreheads. With that last thought she moved her hands to her head, attempting to fix the horrifying mess that was undoubtedly her hair. When Ron saw what she was doing, he grabbed her hands and chuckled.
"You don't have to that," he whispered, his mouth near her ear. "You look beautiful just like this."
His blue eyes were fixed on her so intently, she found it difficult to look away. "We should probably get out of these wet clothes," she said, matching his gaze.
When she finally looked away from him, she reached inside her closest and pulled out a shirt. Ron immediately turned around, keeping his back to her so she could change. He tried to see out the window in her room from his current position, wanting to distract himself from the rustle of clothing. He heard a small gasp, drawing his attention away from what lay outside.
He turned his head slightly. "Are you hurt?" He cursed himself for not having thought of it sooner.
"Not really," she answered, hoping to ease his worries.
He turned fully around now, wanting to confirm that for himself because this would be exactly the sort of thing she would try to hide from him. Her back was to him and with just her bra on he could see the small gash above her left shoulder blade.
"You're right, it's not that bad," he told her. "It's already closed," he said, running a finger over it, causing her to shiver.
She turned around and Ron found his mouth suddenly go dry. She attempted to cover herself up with the shirt in her hands, but he stopped her, before leaning in to cover her lips with his own. He took his hands and ran them up her backside and she pressed herself against him. His hands soon worked their way up to the clasp on her bra, and he momentarily broke the kiss, waiting for her permission before he continued. Instead of giving it to him, she reached back and unhooked it herself. He swallowed, before reaching out with an unsteady hand to push one strap down and then the other. When the thin material was gone, he did a sharp intake of breath and she looked away.
He touched her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I told you you were beautiful."
She felt her cheeks flush being under his intense gaze. She decided it was only fair she wasn't the only one being ogled at. "I want to see you," she said.
He nodded and removed his shirt so fast it must have been some sort of record. She had seen him with no shirt before, but she still marveled at his complete lack of embarrassment.
"When you grow up in a house with eight other people, you don't have a whole lot of privacy," he explained. He said it mostly just to ease some of the nervousness he was feeling. Hermione kissed him hard on the mouth then and his nerves were forgotten.
Ron guided them back so they tumbled back onto her bed, placing his hands on either side of her to keep his weight from crushing her. He captured her lips in a bruising kiss, moaning out loud when she arched up against him. She moved her lips across his jaw line and reached for the belt on his trousers.
That was when everything – their perilous run from the Death Eaters, their mutual worry for Harry, and all else that was happening in their lives, seemed like a distant insignificant memory.
The sound of rain pelting down woke Hermione from her slumber. She almost panicked when she didn't recognize her surroundings. But once her sleep hazed mind cleared, she realized where she was. Judging by how dark the room was night had obviously fallen. She sat up in the bed, noticing that Ron wasn't there.
"Ron?" She called out.
"I'm here," he said, moving away from the window and back to the bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't." She hugged the covers tighter around her body, even when there really wasn't much point to it – they were both well beyond modesty at that point. "What time is it?"
He glanced down at his watch. "Nearly ten," he said sitting down on top of the covers beside her.
She couldn't believe that much time had passed. The Order must be out looking for them, but she wondered if any of them would think to check outside the wizarding world.
"I think it's safe to say we weren't followed," he went on. "We should probably head back soon. Moody's got to have people out looking for us."
She nodded to show she had heard, but didn't say anything.
"What is it?" He asked, knowing something was troubling her. "Hermione?"
"I just wish that sometimes we had normal lives," she admitted, sounding both sad and frustrated. "I know that things have never been perfect, but lately it feels like we keep finding ourselves caught in these life or death situations."
"I know," he said, understanding her completely. "But it won't always be like this," he said cupping her cheek with his hand.
She knew in her heart it might be a long time before things calmed down. Right now was probably the calm before the storm. The extreme circumstances they kept finding themselves in had finally reached a breaking point that night, and had at least partially contributed to what had happened between them. She truly believed that though the possible peril they faced may have been the deciding factor, it had inevitable to avoid. The tension and the fighting and the being apart for so long eventually had to come out.
"We really should get going," he said again, though as he said it he was moving his face closer to hers. She didn't protest or give him a long-winded speech on why they should leave. Yes, everyone would be worried out of their minds, but really, what difference would a few more minutes make? That was the last coherent thought she had before Ron's lips claimed hers and he pressed them both back against the mattress.
It was close to midnight when the Knight Bus dropped them off not far from Lupin's. From there, they walked the remainder of the distance on foot.
Freedom be damned, Lupin's house was a welcome sight for Ron as he stepped onto the front porch and opened the screen door for himself and Hermione.
Ginny and his mother were half asleep at the kitchen table, but both came alert instantly upon hearing the front door opening. Tears of joy sprang from Mrs. Weasley's when she saw the two of them standing there. She threw her arms around Ron first and kept repeating over and over again, 'you're safe' before doing the same with Hermione.
"Are you sure you're all right?" She asked them, slightly frantic.
"Yes, mum, we're fine," Ron answered for the both of them, hoping to avoid another round of death grip-like hugging.
"I need to get in touch with your father. He has the whole Order out looking for you."
"Did Harry make it back here?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"He's upstairs, dear. Moody and Lupin found him and brought him back hours ago."
"What do you mean 'found him'? What's wrong with him?" Ron demanded to know.
"He used his abilities to get rid of the Death Eaters following him," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'll go up with you. I need to take down the barriers around his room before you can go in."
"Barriers?" Ron said in confusion. "Mum, what's going on?" He glanced at his sister, but she revealed nothing.
His mother was already walking up the stairs, and both he and Hermione bounded after her. Once the barrier around the room he shared with Harry was down, his mother said to the two of them, "don't pressure him for details about what happened right now. It's important that he rests. I'm sure when he's feeling up to it he'll tell you everything." Then his mother disappeared down the stars to use the floo system.
Ron walked in first, not knowing what he would find but bracing himself for the worst. There were a few lit candles in the room but that was all the illumination provided. Harry was lying on his back on top of the bed with his eyes closed.
"Harry?" Hermione said in an uneasy voice.
His eyes flew open. "Hermione? Ron?" He tried sitting up, but grabbed the sides of his head as if it were painful just to move.
"We were so worried," she said, the relief evident in her voice. She went over to him, but he backed away from her.
"Don't," he said harshly, backing up until his back was touching the wall. "I'm sorry," he said, seeing the hurt and confusion play across her face. "I just – I can't have anyone touch me right now. It hurts too much."
"Harry, what's going on? What happened to you?" Ron asked, forgetting his mother's warning and now looking just as worried as Hermione.
"I used my limited telepathy to stop the Death Eaters that were following me. I know I'm not supposed to use it," he said, seeing them exchange uneasy glances, "but I didn't have a choice. I made them think we weren't worth going after, and ever since I did that I can't shut my mind off. That's why your mum put the barriers around the room to try and block out everyone's thoughts. I can still hear them, but it's not as bad now."
"What about Snape? Isn't there something he can do?" Hermione asked.
"Probably," Harry conceded, rubbing his temples, "but I told him it was more important that he help in the search for you guys."
Hermione had never felt guiltier in her life. She and Ron had gotten so caught up in their own relationship, they didn't even give a fleeting thought as to where Harry might be and if he was all right. Harry, who had put aside his own suffering so that they might be found. That thought alone sickened her.
"I know who sent them," he said a moment later. "Narcissa Malfoy."
Ron sucked in a sharp breath. "Malfoy's mother? Are you sure, mate? Because I don't think – "
"Ron, it was her. I pulled it from their minds."
"But why would she send Death Eaters After you?" Ron asked him, fighting back the urge to stare openly at Harry. For someone who was supposed to have limited telepathic and empath abilities his powers actually seemed to be increasing in strength.
"I was the one who murdered her husband," he said, his tone grim. "Bellatrix Lestrange got out of there alive and probably told her – " He stopped talking, seeing the shadow of another person enter the room.
Ron turned his head to see what had caught his friend's eye. "Ginny, what are you doing here?" She was hanging back in the doorway.
"Mum, wanted me to tell you not to wear him out. She thinks you should let Harry rest." As she said, she looked everywhere but at Harry before walking back down the hall.
As always, his mother was right. Harry looked like hell, and barely seemed to be holding himself together.
"Do you need anything?" Hermione asked him.
Harry lightly shook his head.
She followed her natural instinct to lay her hand on his bare arm in a gesture of comfort, forgetting his earlier warnings not to touch him. The instant her skin touched his, something like fire coursed through her. She felt Harry reading her as if she were an open book. Every unguarded thought was there for him to see. She cried out and stumbled back, feeling Ron's arms reach around to steady her.
"Hermione, what happened?" He said, his voice filled with worry. He was still holding on to her.
"N-nothing," she stuttered. "I'm fine."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed the sides of his head. "You both should go."
Ron was still waiting for an explanation, when Hermione tore from the room. She waited until Ron was out before closing the door. They needed to get Mrs. Weasaley to put that barrier back up.
"What happened in there?" Ron questioned her.
"I should have listened when he said not to touch him. That's all," she told him.
He only had to look at her to know she wasn't telling him everything, but before he could press her on it, she was already taking the stairs down to look for his mother. She didn't want to explain to Ron that, however unintentionally, the brief time Harry had been in her head he had glimpsed many of her most personal memories, including why she and Ron hadn't been there for him sooner. He probably hated them both right now. If she were in his position, she would too.
