Author's Notes: Look at this. I am writing a chapter. After my last update on August second, nearly two months ago, I am writing once more. Yes, I did suffer a very short case of FFDDD, or whatever the hell I named it, which was caused by school this time. It's hard balancing between homework, shopping, social life, and writing. I promise I won't let that happen again. I had to go back and re-read nearly my entire story because I forgot what it was about. That should not be happening. I am so sorry I let you all down. You will not have to wait another two months for the next chapter, I swear!
Thanks to those of you who still submitted reviews – and little reminders to update – in my absence. I really hope you won't ditch the story after this, thinking it'll take me a year to upload a new chapter. Really, it won't. Last time was an inexcusable exception, and if you can't tell by now, I feel pretty bad about it.
So, to make up for those two, agonizing, chapter-less months, I made this one especially long: twelve whole pages on Word (about three or for more than usual; yes, this took me several weeks to write). Therefore, I expect extra reviews. ;)
And if any of you remember, when I mentioned doing a Bridget-Jones style Hermione diary in the last chapter – or a couple decades ago, it seems like – I was serious. When this is over, I'll probably get started on the diary straightaway. Don't ask me how long this story is going to go on. It's about Christmas-time on the story-line right now, so you figure it out.
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE DISAPPEARING DAMSEL
A crash somewhere on a lower floor jerked Hermione awake the following morning. She gazed wildly around her room, expecting a murderer to jump out from behind her dresser or come bursting through her door. When she was sure no one had any intentions of killing her, she turned her head towards her window and blinked. The day was still dark and stars were scattered in the sky, but the faint sliver of sunlight on the horizon suggested that morning was not far off. A slight breeze was rustling the curtains, chilling the room and causing Hermione to shiver. She slowly pushed back her blankets and dragged her feet along the floor to the window.
Hermione had spent the previous afternoon alone in her room, gathering her future lesson plans and mulling certain thoughts over in her head. She had stayed up well into the night reading, as she most often did, and therefore was quite tired and did not appreciate being awakened many more hours than usual. While she wondered what exactly the crashing noise had been, she was too tired and did not care enough to find out. Probably Peeves, she reassured herself.
As she reached the windowpane, Hermione found her eyes wandering to the giant moon, shining bright and proud over the shadowed lake. The slice of sunlight in the distance was growing as morning drew closer. There really was no point in going back to sleep now, she reasoned reluctantly. In a couple hour's time, the rest of the school would be awake and, as customary on a Monday morning, she would be required to spend the entire day teaching. I'll never get a decent night's sleep again, Hermione thought as she reached for the window to shut it.
She stopped. Something just barely visible caught her eye on the grounds. It was moving swiftly yet silently down the dark lawns towards the Forbidden Forest, and at a closer look, Hermione noticed it was wearing a cloak. She screwed up her eyes, squinting at the figure as its proximity to the Forest shortened. The hood of the cloak fell and long, raven hair was revealed underneath the moonlight. For a moment, Hermione thought the outline of the person looked rather familiar, but she couldn't exactly decide on who it might have been. A second later, the person disappeared into the Forest without a second glance back and Hermione could no longer guess at who it was or what they were doing.
Another ear-splitting crash somewhere below made Hermione jump. Abandoning her thoughts of the mysterious figure on the grounds, she held her breath and strained her ears for more odd sounds. As she did so, she could faintly make out the treading of several sets of footsteps coming from an unspecified place underneath her floorboards. There were voices too, it seemed. Something was definitely going on.
After quickly dressing and grabbing her wand from her bedside table, Hermione yanked open her dorm door and dashed down the hall into the staff room. Oddly enough, it was completely empty. A few random coffee cups were the only signs that there had ever been life in the room. Usually on Monday mornings, the staff room was bustling with life as teachers treasured their last student-free moments of the day for several long, tedious hours. This morning, however, was different. Hermione was sure that none of the teachers were still in bed; she passed their rooms on her way out and most, if not all, of the doors were open and the rooms were unoccupied.
Hermione quickly exited the room into the dark, shadowed halls of Hogwarts. Very distantly, muffled sounds of shouts and footsteps could be heard; she strained her ears again and followed the echoes down several vacant corridors. She rounded a corner and came to a staircase, which was also completely void of student or professor life. But the strange sounds still reverberated through the halls, and Hermione continued to follow them for several more tense minutes. She passed by quite a few large windows and saw that as the sun peered more noticeably above the horizon, snow had begun to fall, slightly obscuring her view of the Forbidden Forest. There was still no sign of the figure that had disappeared into the trees only moments before. For a brief instant, she found herself dwelling on it – why had the figure been so eager to get to the Forest at such an early hour, when the school seemed to be in utter chaos?
A remote shout of "Gryffindors!" jerked Hermione back to her mission. The echoes were becoming more solid now, therefore meaning she was getting closer to the center of whatever was happening. She continued to pass along the windows, her hand inching closer towards her wand each second, and ventured down yet another gloomy hall before rounding a final corner. She paused and stared at the sight at the end of the corridor.
A large group of students, mostly Gryffindors, it seemed, were all attempting to push through a doorway and flatten a Prefect in the process. The boy gave out a cry of, "Students, please! Let me through and I'll sort this all out!", but it mattered none to the terrified and confused children. More distant shouts and thundering footsteps only added to the muddled scene. Hermione became more bewildered by the moment, and certainly wanted some answers, but the Prefect and the students needed help before any information could be gained.
"Excuse me!" Hermione boomed, rushing forward towards the students. "EXCUSE ME! GRYFFINDORS, I NEED YOUR ATTENTION! Hey! HEY! SILENCIO!"
The corridor quieted immediately and the students ceased their actions to fight each other for access through the door. They slowly turned to stare at whoever had cast the spell and, upon seeing Hermione, began shouting furiously once again – only no sound could be heard.
"Quiet!" Hermione ordered, only feeling slightly foolish afterwards as there was no noise to quiet in the first place. She flicked her wand and the soft roar of wind on the other side of the castle walls returned, as did several small whispers and mutters in the crowd of students.
"Now, can someone please tell me what in the world is going on?"
Hermione turned her head to the disheveled Prefect, who was looking as befuddled as anyone else. He gave her a small shrug, his eyes still rather wide and a terrified expression on his face.
"We're not exactly sure," squeaked a falsetto female voice to Hermione's right. A small girl was fiddling with a string on her sleeve as she shuffled her feet, looking around nervously. "The Ravenclaw Prefect came banging on our portrait about an hour ago, demanding to speak to the Head Girl. They went off together down to the Great Hall, we think, so we went round and woke up the rest of the House and tried to follow the Ravenclaws. But then Professor King caught us and told us to go back to our common room, so we've only just tried to leave again."
"Why did the Ravenclaw Prefect need to speak to the Head Girl?" Hermione asked calmly, as perplexed as ever.
"I don't know," the Prefect spoke up. "No one informed me of anything, so I know about as much as this lot. I think the teachers are holding a conference, probably in the Great Hall. Hadn't you better get down there?"
"Yes, thank you," Hermione said distractedly, pushing past the students. She hastened down the hall as she heard shouts from the group start up again, but she stopped for nothing. She came across another small gathering of students, most likely Hufflepuffs, but took a different route to avoid more questioning. Finally, she arrived in the Entrance Hall.
The doors leading out onto the grounds were wide open. The snow was falling more heavily now, coating the ground in layers of white and littering the threshold with tiny flakes. The snow greatly limited Hermione's visibility, no longer allowing her to see the Forbidden Forest at all, or the mysterious person who had disappeared into it. She shivered slightly and stood rooted to the spot for a minute before voices to her left caught her attention.
Discussion was drifting out from the ajar doors leading into the Great Hall. Hermione moved towards the door and pushed it open slightly; she stuck her head through the crack and peered into the room, keeping quiet all the while. She wasn't exactly sure whether or not this was something she was supposed to be listening in on, but if she wasn't allowed, then who exactly would be?
It seemed that the entire staff was gathered at the head table on the opposite side of the room. McGonagall sat in the center, her face expressionless and rather pale, Hermione noted. The professors, many of whom were still in their night clothes, all stared at McGonagall with mixtures of fear, incomprehension, and surprise manifest on their faces. Hermione's worst suspicions had been confirmed – something had happened.
"Granger!" a quivering voice barked out. It was McGonagall's. "About time you arrived. Please sit down, we have very serious matters to discuss."
"What's happened?" Hermione asked as she drew nearer to the table. "I came across a very distressed group of Gryffindors on the third floor, and they mentioned something about the Ravenclaw Prefect and –"
"Please sit down," McGonagall repeated. "We're discussing it now and you will be informed of what you need to know."
Hermione nodded, not at all comprehending anything whatsoever, and took a seat next to a panic-stricken Ginny. She gazed around the table at her fellow co-workers, who all looked tousled and alarmed. Hermione leaned towards Ginny and muttered, "Tell me what's going on."
"A student," Ginny mumbled numbly. She then nodded in McGonagall's direction.
"There has been a slight tragedy," McGonagall announced to the silent table. "This morning at approximately five o'clock, a Ravenclaw student was seen crossing the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest. When her housemates checked her dorm not long after, her belongings were gone and a note was found on her bed."
McGonagall paused to rummage in her pocket. She drew out a small scrap of parchment and read it aloud to the assembled group. "'I am gone. Do not come and find me. Signed, Irene Farnsworth.' That's all there is," she said disbelievingly. "No reason at all. We've interviewed the Ravenclaws and asked if they had any idea as to why this girl would depart so suddenly, but they had no answers for us."
"Have you checked her family history?" a voice asked. Hermione glanced down the table and realized, for the first time, that Harry and Ron were present as well. "Perhaps she was an orphan and was suffering some sort of depression or something."
"No, Mr. Potter," McGonagall sighed. "She comes from a very well-respected family in northern Wales. As I said, we are all completely oblivious as to why Farnsworth felt the need to escape into the Forest."
"I honestly don't see what the problem is," Bella spoke up two seats down from Hermione. All heads turned in her direction as she continued speaking. "So a student's run off into the Forbidden Forest. Hasn't this happened before? She'll reappear in an hour or so, saying she forgot to do her homework and had no other way out of it. I'm sure there are more important 'tragedies' that could've occurred, don't you think?"
The members of the table all held their breath as McGonagall stared hard at Bella. Hermione herself was flabbergasted at Bella's comments; no doubt that everyone else was as well. She was rather surprised at the woman's outstanding ignorance. How could she not comprehend the serious matter at hand?
"I apologize, Professor Levrero," McGonagall said slowly and clearly. "You are new to the school and do not fully understand the dangers that await any who enter the Forbidden Forest. I admit, I would not be as concerned if Doxies, Graphorns, Acromantulas," – Hermione could have sworn McGonagall glanced in the direction of Harry and Ron – "and other unthinkable beasts did not roam free throughout the Forest, but unfortunately, I can only think of the safety of my students right now."
Hermione was quite sure that Bella's mouth could not be more clenched than it already was. She wasn't exactly sure what had sparked the woman to speak in such an impolite manner, but it didn't matter – currently, there was an innocent student wandering the forest with hazards much worse than Acromantulas awaiting her.
"Continuing on," McGonagall muttered. "We sent out Desdemona King earlier this morning to see if there were any traces of the girl, or if she could find her without venturing too far into the Forest. She should be arriving back any minute, and I highly doubt she's found much of anything that will be of use to us. Therefore, I would like a search party formed immediately."
"Wait a moment," Hermione spoke up. "Why haven't we contacted the Ministry? The girl could be in trouble, and they have wizards trained to do this that could help find her. Don't you think that they would like to be informed of this?"
McGonagall paused for several seconds. Several long, tense, uncomfortable seconds. Something flickered in her eyes as they moved from Hermione to Harry and Ron and back to Hermione. The rest of the table did not quite comprehend her eye movements and sat, watching and waiting, as McGonagall straightened her back and gave a little cough.
"Miss Granger, I would like a word with you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley in a moment. Now, as for the rest of you," she said, turning to face the remaining staff members, "I know you are quite capable of finding this girl yourselves. You are dismissed to the Forest. I would suggest contacting Professor King on your way out and if any vital information has been gained, please report it to me immediately. I cannot stress how important it is that we find this child unharmed. Our situation is dire, and I trust that you all will do your best."
With curt nods, the professors scraped their chairs along the floor and quickly exited the room. Hermione watched as they disappeared into the Entrance Hall and, after a small burst of snowflakes, ventured out onto the wintry Hogwarts grounds in search of the odd vanishing student.
McGonagall cleared her throat and, as Hermione turned back to face her, she realized how empty and awkward the room felt. Harry and Ron sat at the opposite end of the table, gazing perplexingly at her and McGonagall with questionable looks apparent on their faces. Hermione too was curious as to why the three of them had been held back.
"I have no doubt that this may be classified as another… occurrence," McGonagall began shakily. "Miss Granger, you asked me why the Ministry has not been informed of the girl's departure. I would think the answer would be quite obvious."
"The Ministry can't know," Harry said, reminding them all once again. "They can't know. Because… what is it you said before? If they knew, they would interfere and question the well-being of the school."
"Marshall Dempsey would close the school if he knew a single thing, let alone recurring accidents, was amiss," McGonagall added. "If the Minister of Magic is informed, then we all might as well pack our belongings, because once the Daily Prophet catches on, I'll be getting innumerable owls from concerned parents. I would be wrong in thinking any sensible parent would let their child stay at this school when we are all very much in danger. We have discussed this before."
"But the Aurors know," said Harry. "They are the ones who recommended me for this job in the first place. They're our only allies in the Ministry right now."
"I still say that's pretty dodgy, if you ask me," commented Ron. "What if one of them slips up and tells someone else? Or what if they do it purposely?"
Hermione had a strong urge to snap at Ron and cease his stupid, unimportant interjections, but McGonagall spoke first. "It's a risk we decided to take. And from what we know, all who are involved are as reliable as you and I. If we are careful, I have reason to believe the Ministry should never find out about our troubles."
"What if Irene Farnsworth's disappearance isn't connected to the other occurrences?" Hermione asked matter-of-factly. "Don't you think it is very possible she ran away due to her own personal issues? We shouldn't be so quick to assume it's another link in the chain –"
"Come off it!" Ron yelled angrily. "Why wouldn't it be? It's a bit suspicious, don't you think? Or isn't the note enough evidence?"
"It isn't any evidence at all, if you ask me –"
"But for now," McGonagall interrupted loudly, putting a stop to Hermione and Ron's potential argument, "we need as much help as possible searching for the girl. Your colleagues are quite competent, but I feel they lack certain qualities you possess that could be handy for this task. Please, if you come in contact with anyone – or anything – that is of any value, return to me as soon as you can. In the meantime, I will go deal with the students."
The three of them nodded and pushed back their chairs. They turned and made their way down the aisle toward the doors leading into the Entrance Hall. Far off in the distance, Hermione could still hear the chaos and discord Irene Farnsworth's disappearance had left the remainder of the school in. Feet pounded across the floor above and incomprehensible shouts rang through the halls. Her heart momentarily went out to the Prefects; she could only imagine what they must be going through trying to keep serenity amongst the students.
"Oh, Mr. Potter," McGonagall called out suddenly, causing them all to turn back. "I would suggest searching your room first to see if any of your possessions have gone missing." And with that, the doors shut, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione utterly alone.
Harry glanced at the two of them for a mere second before dashing up the stairs out of sight. Hermione was not quite sure what McGonagall's warning had meant; why would any of Harry's things be absent? It almost sounded as if McGonagall suspected someone would have intentions of stealing something of Harry's.
Hermione and Ron wordlessly began the journey over the crisp Hogwarts lawns. Even if she could think of something intelligent to say to Ron, the try would be pointless; it was impossible to hear anything except for the roar of the wind. The snow was coming down in thick sheets that seemed to be feet wide and visibility was limited. Hermione could scarcely see a foot ahead of her, and Ron would be totally lost if his hair was not so vibrantly noticeable. She questioned which way the Forest was, as the two of them just seemed to be recklessly wandering forward. But through the gale, she could see a great light; warmth was shining through the wall of snow, rising higher in the sky, signaling the end of night and the beginning of morning. She had been awake a good hour, at least, if not more, and now the rest of the school would be awakening and taking part in the disorganized chaos. She knew the light was the sun, and it was rising above the lake – that meant the Forest was just dead ahead.
"Where are you doing?" she screamed towards Ron, who had veered off to the right. No noise escaped her frostbitten lips. Hermione shivered; she wished she had been more sensible before leaving her dorm. Her sweater and pants were quite thin, as were her robes, and she wore no cloak at all. The dampness from the snow was beginning to seep through to her skin, prickling her body, and her legs were drenched up to near the knee. For the first time, she noticed how cold she really was, but it did not matter – her mission was to find the missing student, even if it meant suffering through hypothermia.
"Ron!" Her mouthed formed the word but the sound was unheard. She moved forward and grabbed his arm, startling him slightly. His face was clearly irked, as was he for being delayed in what the thought was the correct direction to the Forest.
"What are you playing at?" he yelled, coming quite close to Hermione's face. She could just barely hear the angry words. He wriggled free of her grip and motioned to turn back in the wrong direction.
"You're going the wrong way!" Hermione shrieked, grabbing the sleeve of his arm. "Look, there's the sun above the lake." She pointed towards the growing light to her left. Ron said something incomprehensible, pointing his own hand towards the opposite course, but Hermione paid no attention. "If the sun's to our left, then the Forest is straight ahead. Come on."
Keeping her fingers clasped tightly around his arm, Hermione pulled Ron in what she thought – and hoped – was the path to the Forest. It was an odd scene and an odd feeling as well. They were both engulfed completely in the snowstorm, unable to see anything other than themselves. The shining light barely got through, casting dim rays across their faces, but the source of the light appeared to be unknown. Hermione felt a strange temporary euphoria from this different world; alone out here in this alternate universe was mysterious yet also tranquilizing. She wished the snow could wipe away all her fears and the burdens she carried on her shoulders. She wished Ron would disappear, just for a mere second, leaving Hermione to dance alone in the falling beauty of the frozen raindrops.
Her thoughts immediately came to a stop as a barrier of dark, taunting figures began to emerge some few yards ahead. The pair drew nearer, Ron still hanging loosely behind, to what was definitely the entrance to the Forbidden Forest. The tips of the tall trees were indistinguishable, but the branches and twigs themselves became clearer and more solid with each step forward. Then another figure, quite different than the trees, appeared.
Desdemona King was running towards Hermione and Ron. The snow seemed to lessen as Hermione drew closer to the perimeter of the forest, and Desdemona was quite visible, as was her terrified facial expression. The deafening wind died away slightly, if not for just the moment, and Hermione was able to hear Desdemona's shouts.
"Hermione! Ron!" she yelled, fighting against the tough winds to reach the pair. "You're here, thank God!"
Hermione and Ron were finally within a foot of Desdemona. Her teeth were chattering and her hair appeared to be quite icy underneath the thick hood of her cloak. Aside from looking utterly frozen, she also looked remarkably tattered. The bloody slashes on her face greatly contrasted with its overall whiteness; she was missing a glove on her right hand, revealing it to be bruised and wounded. The hem of her cloak was ripped in several different areas, one as high as her thigh, each rip as violent looking as the next. Hermione wondered if Desdemona had been clumsy and fallen, explaining the gashes and tears, or if something else had marred her appearance.
"Has she been found?" Hermione asked, still yelling against the wind. "McGonagall explained it all to us and everyone else has already gotten here – or so we hope," she added quickly, her heart sinking another few inches. "Where's the girl?"
"Jeffery and Flitwick got lost on the way here," Desdemona explained, pulling her cloak closer to her body. "I'm sure they're fine, they're probably back up at the school or still wandering around somewhere, but we could really use the extra help. We haven't found her yet, or anything of much help. Ginny did come across a Ravenclaw colored scarf about fifteen minutes ago, and we suspect it was her's, but there haven't been any more signs. Where's Harry?"
"McGonagall told him to check his room," Ron said, his voice sounding unusually wobbly. "Told him to make sure nothing was missing."
"That doesn't make any sense," said Desdemona. She bowed her head down for a moment as a particularly nasty bout of wind jostled the trio. "But forget about it. We need to find the girl, for her own safety and ours as well. Much longer out here and I'll probably turn into a snowman, assuming the same for everyone else. The Forest is better, come on."
Hermione and Ron followed Desdemona and disappeared amongst the trees a moment later. Hermione was relieved; the wind was quite muffled and the ground was littered with only a very thin layer of snow. She shivered again, as it was still rather cold, but found she preferred the sanctuary of the Forest so the harsh conditions outside.
"Lumos," she and Ron muttered simultaneously.
"I would suggest going off there," Desdemona said in a normal tone, no longer having to scream. She pointed in a direction relatively northeast. "We haven't sent anyone to search that area yet. Mind you, I would watch your step. We aren't quite sure what lives down there, and we didn't really want to find out."
"We can handle ourselves," Ron said strongly.
"Remember, if you discover anything at all, find me or someone else as quickly as possible. Good luck." A fleeting moment later, Desdemona had disappeared behind a large tree. Hermione listened to her retreating footsteps as they grew softer and softer until they were no longer audible at all. Once again, she and Ron were all alone, this time in a less peaceful and more dangerous environment.
"Let's go," Ron muttered, moving forward towards Desdemona's suggested direction. Hermione recollected herself and followed, if not somewhat reluctantly. She yearned to be of help and perhaps even find the missing student before any harm came to her, but she had to admit, she was slightly frightened of the Forest. Her initial adventure into the Forest's dark depths in her first year was not a pleasant one and it had remained in her mind ever since. The trips that followed the first were just as terrifying; with every corner she turned, she expected something large and treacherous to attack. She had no idea what all lived in the Forest, but she could only hope there was nothing worse than what she already knew of. Of course, Hermione trusted McGonagall and knew she would not let any creatures into the Forest that could potentially do any real harm to the Hogwarts students – or at least, to McGonagall's knowledge. But then again, the Forest was forbidden to the students, and obviously, for a reason. In the end, Hermione believed she had solid reason to fear the Forest.
The duo walked through the darkness for what seemed like a long, tedious, anxious eternity, occasionally stumbling on a tree root or jumping at the hoot of an owl. Every few minutes, they would stop and strain their ears for any sounds from their colleagues, the missing student, or something that could put them in danger. Unfortunately, they had no success; this particular part of the Forest appeared to be as silent as the grave, and as empty. The light from the two wands was very faint and covered only a short distance, and Hermione really had no idea what could be standing even five feet away from her. After fifteen minutes, she began silently praying that soon the missing girl would stumble across their path, they would run back up to the school shouting in joy, and all this would pass like a nightmare. She didn't want to classify this as another strange 'occurrence'; as long as she convinced herself that Irene Farnsworth ran away due to her own personal problems, there was a possibility that they all were not in as much danger as McGonagall was leading them to believe.
Hermione and Ron had been walking for a near half hour; they must have been quite deep into the Forest, seeing as the sun was high above the lake by now and only snippets of its light could reach them through the dense trees. The canopy of the Forest was thick as well, but Hermione could still make out the littering of the snow amongst the leaves; a flake here or there was able to escape through to the ground, but mostly, the snow was scant. The cold temperatures, however, were not. Hermione's clothes were still soaked from the travel down to the Forest, and she felt as if they were beginning to freeze to her body. Again she wished she had brought a cloak with her.
Suddenly, something unexpected pounced down from a high branch, screeching and knocking Hermione off her feet. She hit the ground with so much force that her vision was blurred and the scene swam before her, coming in an out of focus at a rapid and nauseating pace. She was vaguely aware of her wrist being clawed at ferociously as soft fur tickled at her nose. She struggled to sit up but her back cracked and refused such movement, as did whatever had ambushed her. It insisted on clawing her arm to pieces, despite her painful yet fruitless attempts to wriggle free.
Another creature fell from the tree, landing on Hermione's stomach and attempting to violently attack her wrist along with its partner. She felt her skin open and could smell the blood from the wound as it seeped through the arm of her robe. Ron's shouts mingled with the screeches from the creatures made Hermione's head throb; she could hear Ron's footsteps as he rushed forward, grabbing at the assailants and yelling out curse after curse. A sharp pain began to spread up Hermione's arm, catching her breath in her throat and causing her eyes to water. She knew something of this sort would happen – they really had no clue as to what dangers awaited them in the Forest. But the pain was almost too much to bear, and just as she was about to cry out in anguish, something was ripped from her wrist and the shrieks and shouts ceased immediately. As quickly as it had come, the nightmarish experience was over, the attackers were gone, and the Forest was eerily silent once more.
"Ron?"
Hermione opened her eyes, feeling a wave of dizziness overcome her. A blurred face underneath a crop of red hair came into view, becoming more solid by the minute until Ron's face could clearly be seen. He looked concerned and uneasy, his wand clenched tightly in his right hand, its tip still aglow from just being used. Another jagged pain ran through Hermione's arm and she sat back, breathing heavily.
"What happened?"
She closed her eyes and squeezed tightly, waiting for the pain to pass. When it did, she opened them again and chanced a glance at her arm. A deep, crimson gash where she usually wore her watch was visible, still pouring out fresh blood. The entire robe of her arm was slit; Hermione moved the material aside to reveal several more painful cuts, yet none measuring up to the damage of the first. She was no doctor, but she knew that such speedy blood loss was not a healthy thing for a person.
"You were attacked," said Ron, examining the gash on Hermione's arm, "by a couple of bloodthirsty Nifflers. Don't give me that look, I'm not kidding. See, your watch is gone. I think they were of the South American breed – they're supposed to be a bit more savage than the ones we're used to. Wonder what they're doing up here," he chuckled unsteadily.
"Not funny," Hermione groaned, clutching at her injured arm.
"I've never seen Nifflers attack someone like that before," Ron commented, taking his eyes off Hermione's wound and bending down towards his shoes. "You need to get to the Hospital Wing straight away. You can't loose so much blood like that, and the cut could get infected. Here." He ripped off a piece of material from the hemline of his robes and tightly wrapped it around Hermione's injury, then tying it securely. The pain remained in Hermione's arm, but the blood stopped as a new feeling of numbness replaced it. She knew she would be all right, for the time being.
"I'll stay," Hermione mumbled, clinging to a nearby tree trunk and pushing herself to her feet. "I'll be fine, really. I need to help look for the girl."
Ron eyed her warily, as if questioning her health like a mother would. For a moment, Hermione thought he might protest, but instead he gave her an exasperated look and sighed, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. There was no point in telling Hermione she could not help in the search for the missing student, because as stubborn as she was known to be, she would always win.
Hermione steadied herself against the tree and marched off in a random direction, very well aware of Ron trailing behind her. She kept her eyes peeled for any more fierce, murderous Nifflers, but came in contact with none as the two of them traveled deeper and deeper into the Forest. Soon the sun was blocked out completely by the trees and Hermione and Ron were forced to rely on the thin light from their wands.
About ten minutes into their continued journey, Hermione found herself privately admitting that she had no idea where they were. As well as she had explored the Forest before, she knew there were still many parts of it she had not seen, her current surroundings being one of those areas. The plants were large and much taller than Hermione herself, with round, waxy leaves. The trees were thicker than five grown men standing close together and every so often, a native-sounding bird would hoot forlornly, its cries sounding like somewhat of a warning, telling Hermione and Ron to turn back before they became completely lost. Too late, Hermione thought. We are lost.
"Erm… Ron?" Hermione mumbled, carefully stepping around a bubbling pit of what appeared to be mud. "Do you know where we are?"
There was silence for a moment in which Hermione whirled around wildly to make sure Ron was still behind her. She found him standing quite still some six feet away, his head cocked in a direction to his left, his eyes alive with deep, focused concentration.
"Ron?" Hermione asked again, thinking he hadn't heard her.
"Shush."
He raised his wand slightly, still staring towards a dark patch of dense trees. Hermione saw nothing moving in the shadows and decided to strain her ears as well; the try was vain, as she heard nothing save for another hoot of a despondent owl.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked with a quaver in her voice.
"Thought I heard something," muttered a slightly abashed-looking Ron.
Hermione turned around and, raising her wand for light, began traveling through the underbrush once more, Ron close behind. She attempted to steady her breathing, but it didn't quite work; Ron's words still remained in her mind. What had he heard? What had he seen? Hopefully not another Niffler – Hermione had no more burnished jewelry to spare. Perhaps it was just a stray hare chasing a mouse across a patch of leaves. This was a forest, after all. There was bound to be other animals around.
A pronounced snap of a twig quite nearby caused Hermione to jump and stumble backwards into Ron. They both raised their wands instinctively, focusing on a certain area somewhat to their left. This time, Hermione was certain something, or someone, was hiding just behind the cover of the trees. She prepared herself for another oncoming attack; whether this was the student, who could possibly be deranged, another mad creature, or something entirely different, she had no way of knowing.
They could hear footsteps but were not sure whether or not they belonged to a human. The footsteps were closing in on them; twigs and leaves crackled as the owner of the footsteps neared where Hermione and Ron were rooted to the spot, terrified and not knowing how to react. Ron glanced sideways at Hermione and put a solitary finger to his lips, giving her the signal to keep absolutely quiet. She nodded in complete comprehension; she wouldn't have been able to scream even if she tried, since her voice had mysteriously disappeared somewhere into the dark depths of the Forest. Ron edged forward slightly, and Hermione caught a brief look of pure panic on his face, but it vanished quickly and was replaced with a strong expression of determination. He raised his wand, tightening his grip on it each second, just as the footsteps came to a halt less ten feet away.
"What –?"
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
Hermione ducked and hit the ground as a blinding light burst from the trees, illuminating the scene of Ron flying backwards into a tree trunk and a figure charging out after its spell. She felt a breeze as someone ran past her towards Ron, exchanging quick curses so rapid and slurred that Hermione could not make out what he and Ron were shouting. Something about the second voice, which was definitely male, seemed oddly familiar…
"Stupefy! STUPEFY!"
Knowing she was testing her luck, Hermione raised her head a fraction of an inch above the ground, just as a beam of light narrowly missed the very top of her head. Ron was darting behind trees, his pursuer attempting to blast the life out of him at the same time. But apparently, Ron was not paying attention to his opponent… the clearing was elucidated from the spells and Hermione could quite clearly make out both of the fighting figures, and she could not suppress the gasp that rose in her throat when she realized who exactly Ron was battling with.
"Ron! Ron, stop!"
"Not now, Hermione!" Ron replied angrily, dodging behind a large boulder.
Hermione quickly pushed herself to her feet and, crouching low, dashed towards the brawl. Neither of the two men paid any attention to her, fortunately, just as she had hoped. She flung her arms to her face as Ron sent a curse unintentionally her way and waited till the streak of fiery radiance passed before attempting to stealthily approach the war once more. Ron's attacker, now only a meager five feet from Hermione, was clutching his ribs with one hand, shooting spells at Ron with the other, and breathing quite heavily at the same time.
Ron opened his mouth widely, waving his arms in a very impressive, intricate fashion, and let loose an almightily yell. An excruciatingly brilliant beam erupted from the end of his wand, charging at both the pursuer and Hermione, who was standing behind him. Hermione made an impulse decision and lurched forward, forcefully pushing the man to the ground and landing crushingly on top of him, just as the spell passed over their backs. Hermione could hear Ron growl in frustration and when she was sure the battle had come to an end, she lifted herself up to stare in the face of the man who she had just saved from quite a bit of damage.
Hermione"
The familiar face, now streaked with mud and dirt, stared astonishingly at both Hermione and Ron as he and Hermione stood to face each other. Ron rushed forward, his wand still raised high, looking as if he was about to murder Hermione for saving the life of his assailant.
"Dammit, what was that for?" he asked Hermione in a voice trembling with rage. But when he caught sight of the bemused face of the intruding man, his wand hand fell limp, along with his face.
"Harry? What the bloody hell?"
Harry stood, brushing muddy leaves off his tattered robes and stuffing his wand back up his sleeve. "Not bad," he muttered at Ron. "Your dueling's a bit rusty, though, if you don't mind me saying."
Ron sighed, a look of relief flittering across his face. "Sorry, mate," he said. "Didn't realize it was you. I think the Forest's got us all a bit jumpy right now."
Harry shrugged, then turned to Hermione. "Thanks for saving my life, by the way."
"Have you found anything?" Hermione asked quickly. She was already able to predict the answer, however, due to the swift change in Harry's countenance.
"Nothing more than you've probably found," said Harry. "I just left Ginny and Desdemona about twenty minutes ago. They had spotted a set of footprints that matched the student's description, but about fifty feet into the search, a blanket of fresh now seemed to have fallen and wiped them away."
Hermione groaned and sunk onto a log. They had been penetrating every inch of the Forest for at least two hours, most likely more, by now, and they had gained no new information at all. It seemed as if Irene Farnsworth did not want to be found and Hermione was secretly beginning to suspect that Irene would not have to worry about it; she honestly did not think they would find her at all.
"There is something, though," Harry spoke up suddenly with a new, tense air in his voice. "I checked my room, like McGonagall suggested. I thought she was just being batty again; why would anyone take something of mine? But…"
"But what?" Hermione urged.
Harry was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not he should share whatever was on his mind with his friends. Then he said, "Ron… the records are gone."
Hermione was clueless as to what Harry was talking about, but Ron, obviously, was not. His eyes widened, giving him the distinct look of a frightened frog with its head aflame. All color drained from his face as he stared at Harry in dismayed shock. Hermione's stomach promptly began twisting into knots.
"They're gone? What - do you think she took them?"
"What records?" Hermione chimed in.
"The Aurors keep a book of records containing the information we've gained in this mission," Harry explained, his face slowly becoming more void of color by the second as he continued do dwell on the thought. "You know, about the Death Eaters and Bellatrix Lestrange. They entrusted me to protect the book. And it's missing, along with this girl." He sighed and ran a dirty hand through his messy, crumpled hair. "This is bad. If that book falls into the wrong hands, it's all over."
Harry looked to Ron, who looked to Hermione, who looked back at Harry. They all understood the magnitude of the disappearance of both the girl and the book, especially the book, which could unravel everything they'd worked hard towards. It could also give their enemy quite an unfair advantage over them, something they most certainly did not need. If the records book did fall into the wrong hands of someone on the opposing side… a Death Eater, or perhaps even Bellatrix Lestrange herself… then the trio, their colleagues, their students, and the entire wizarding world had just plunged into a whole new league of danger.
A piercing scream not far from their spot of isolation broke through their thoughts, pulling them all forcefully back into reality. Without a moment's hesitation, the trio scrambled to their feet and began hustling through the Forest in search of the intimidating sound. They had only one concurrent idea on their minds: get to the source of the shrieking before it was too late.