Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the HP Universe are property of JK Rowling. I own nothing.
Ch. 30: Day 14, part 3: Maze of Directions
The trip was rough and nauseatingly prolonged for portkey, then everyone was allowed to drop a good two meters to the ground. As one can imagine, there was much muffled cursing.
Harry was looking around before he even got to his feet: it was oppressively dark, but still obviously a forest, the kind that gave him the heebee-geebees. Ugh, and it was raining.
"Welcome to Britain, home sweet home," Harry heard Draco grumble somewhere near him, though both of them would take the rain over the eyeball-freezing cold any day.
"Lumos," Harry muttered, holding up his wand to see Draco. He was standing, relatively composed considering the situation, and apparently unharmed; so Harry spared him a quick smile before turning to check the others. Several other wands began shining brightly, and the forest was lit up eerily with an unnatural light. The trees towered upwards, hiding the night sky with a leafy ceiling of intertwining branches.
Silently, intensely, wands gripped firmly, the soldiers took stock of their surroundings. Noticing his own thoughts, Harry was a little pleased to realize that they were indeed soldiers, fat lifetimes away from the recruits they had been just twenty-four hours ago. Gone was the fatigue, the bad attitudes, and the horsing around that had been more prevalent during training.
Training was over, Harry mused darkly; it had been a scant three days.
The soldiers were gathering closer now, waiting for direction, and Harry flushed a little, wishing he didn't have an audience for what he was about to do. Though what he really wanted was a magical map, he was also sure that there was some sophisticated spell that actually did what he was going to have to do it the old-fashioned way. If only Hermione were here to see this, she'd be so proud.
He said clearly, so all could hear and see (it felt a little like being back in DA), "Point me."
His wand jerked him around almost 180 degrees, then he removed a muggle pencil and a pamphlet from his robe pocket, unfolding the paper to reveal a large map of Britain. He placed the map on the ground, pointed North. Holding up his wand, he said stated, "Istac London."
His wand jerked again, pointing south and slightly east. Kneeling on the ground, he marked the direction next to London. "It's just geometry guys. Wherever we are is on a parallel line, with regards to the North and South poles, as London and any other British city. So our angle towards London, in respect to the poles, is virtually the same as London's angle towards us. . . in respect to the same poles. . ."
Harry trailed off, suspecting that he had already lost most of crowd, but he was encouraged to note that Pansy, Draco, Wood, and quite a few others seemed to have some idea as to where he was heading with this. Others were pushing against each other to get a look at the muggle map. So Harry stood again, and said, "Istac Manchester."
This time his wand pointed west and slightly north. He marked this direction from Manchester, then used his wand as a ruler, ghetto-style, and extended one line out from each of the cities. "Now I'm going to use these direction to find the one point here they intersect, and this is the only place where you can be is these directions for both cities – Nottingham."
For a brief instant, there was only silence in response.
"Nottingham Forest is more like it," Draco scowled, and he was not the only one looking displeased with this revelation; a couple people even groaned.
Now Harry was irritated too. Why did everything have to be so shitty all the time! "Let me guess, Robin Hood was a wizard, Maid Marion a witch, and this forest is haunted by merry men in tights!"
Only two soldiers understood his references enough to laugh, though Harry certainly wasn't laughing, and everyone else was looking at him as if he were mad.
"Harry, mate," Fred said with slightly exaggerated care, as if not wanting to destabilize him. "I don't know any robbing hood."
"And I don't think I've ever met a maid in my life," George continued, as if educating a small child. "Wizards' have used house elves for centuries."
"But I don't think either one of us should touch your last comment!" Fred cracked, laughing loudly, and thankfully breaking the tension brought on by Harry's outburst. He felt a little guilty: he was in charge, he couldn't throw temper tantrums anymore.
"Shut up, you idiots," Draco demanded harshly. "If our lights weren't enough to alert the entire forest to our presence, your shrieks surely did."
"This is no laughing matter," Wood agreed sternly. "Nottingham Forest is second only to Hogwarts Forbidden Forest in its magical strength, but more evil. It is completely concealed from the muggles, of course, but that will make it difficult to leave without finding the barrier."
"I vacationed near here once," another soldier. "My girlfriend almost got mangled sphinx!"
"Don't be dumb!" Pansy snapped. "Sphinxes are only native to North Africa and the Middle East."
This was getting out of hand. . . "Stop it, everyone!" Harry commanded suddenly, glaring as he caught their attention. "Malfoy's right, we should keep as quiet as we can." Hmmm. . . which way should they go? Oliver was right, they needed to find the barrier, kinda like when he had been lost in the Forbidden Forest. He looked around sharply, conscious of everyone's eyes on him. Maybe he just completely made it up, but he had a sudden hunch about the appearance of those trees over there – almost as if they were not as dense.
"We'll go southwest, towards the city," he finally stated, calmly and with authority, then began motioning soldiers aside so he could lead the way. "Everyone, stay alert. Every third person should have a lit wand, so the others can be prepared for anything."
Eager to be moving, the soldiers quickly fell in a paired line behind Harry. Harry was walking purposely forward, eyes peeled, but wondering why on Earth they had been portkeyed here of all places. The trees seemed to be spies, and he felt the familiar dread that he felt whenever he entered the Forbidden Forest: evil things lurked in long shadows, as if waiting for just the right moment –
"AHHH!"
Harry twisted around to see one of the soldiers, Pip, batting wildly at nothing. What the hell!
"Spider! Spider!" she shrieked before finally managed to flick the (admittedly quite big) arachnid from her chest. Panting, she glanced around at her comrades with embarrassment. "Sorry. I overreacted, I'm a little on edge."
"You're not the only one, I almost had a heart attack," Pansy offered as vague words of comfort; after all, they were two of only five girls that had survived the Death Eater slaughter. This was partially due to the fact that there had been fewer female recruits generally, but it was all the more reason to stick together now.
Time passed strangely. Minutes ticked by slowly, endlessly, while distance fell away quickly. Harry had certainly had enough adventures in the wizarding world to sense that they were passing through some magical medium, and he could feel them getting closer.
A twig snapped close to Harry and he looked over to Oliver drawing up next to him. Turning back towards the darkness before him, ominously lit by his shining wand, Harry walked silently, as though to reprimand his ex-teammate for his lack of stealth – not that the troupe of twenty was really capable of inconspicuously trapping through a black forest.
"I used to know a bint that lived in Nottingham. She might still live there. She could probably help us find shelter."
Harry nodded, listening with a half an ear; but he could hear something else, in the distance, constant and rippling, blending in with the sound of wind wrestling through the trees. So familiar, he could almost place it. . .
Then something else –
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooouuuuuuuu."
"What was that?" a frightened voice asked behind him.
"Werewolves," Draco hissed, bristling almost like a cat. It was with good reason that he had hated Lupin: of all wild beasts, he feared werewolves the most, from having been repeatedly chased down by his father's enslaved wearwolves. . . Even though the beasts were muzzled, nothing was more terrifying. . .
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooouuu," came the answering howl, nearer now.
Harry squashed his panic, trying to think quickly. . . quickly, rapidly. . . rapids. . . rapids, water. . . water! Harry seized upon his revelation, barking as loud as he dared, "Run! This way!"
He moved to the side to usher the soldiers by. "Run! Keep going straight! There's a river near, I can hear it! Wade in so they can't get you! Run!"
The soldiers moved as fast as they could, but the injured (and their partners) were significantly slower. Taking up the rear, Harry realized that Draco had held back with him. He didn't even bother to voice his wish that the blonde had taken up the front; the pale features were hard and unyielding, wand poised to kill. Pointing his own illuminated wand at the sinister forest, Harry took one sharp look before saying "Let's go," and followed the others.
Jogging over the uneven terrain of shrubs and fallen branches, suffocated by encroaching darkness, hunted by invisible wolf-monsters: seconds stretched on anxiously and fearfully, seemingly forever. . .
The sound of water was louder now, and Harry was suddenly worried that the river might be too fast to safely wade into. Right ahead of him, one of the injured stumbled and fell. Harry and the partner soldier helped him to his feet –
"OOOOUUUU –"
"Crucio!" Draco growled immediately, and Harry twisted in time to see the werewolf spasm mid-leap, withering in agony even as he crashed to the ground at Draco's feet. The Slytherin stood stiff and unhesitating, radiating power from his very body, and from the magic shooting out through his wand.
The sounds the werewolf made were shrill and bone-chilling, indistinguishable from the sound of a large animal being tortured to death. Unnatural squeals, growls, grunts. . .
Harry was at his side instantly, grabbing Draco's arm. "Stop!"
Draco jerked away and glared at the Gryffindor with fanatical hatred. "I loathe them! They, they – they're monsters!"
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooouuuuuuuuu!"
Fuck, that was close. Harry shivered, but it only took a second for Harry to evaluate his priorities and know what had to be done.
"Kill him quick, we gotta go," Harry snapped, adrenaline throbbing through his veins.
To his credit Draco didn't even wait a beat before glancing at the fallen werewolf and hissing spitefully, "Avada Kadavra."
Harry's stomach seized sickeningly, but he denied the guilt that tried to weasel into his mind, barking, "Let's get the fuck out of here."
They ran full speed to catch up with the others, soon relieved to be able to see water through the trees ahead, faintly lit by illuminated wands. . . The last two soldiers were getting in right now –
Then they could both hear the sound of something crashing through the forest behind them. Never slowing, they glanced over their shoulder to see four werewolves bounding towards them. If they had thought they had been going full speed before, they were sorely mistaken: they sped up considerably at that sight..
Draco was ridiculously fast, Harry noticed as the fit blonde pulled ahead of him, dashing and leaping with practiced grace and efficiency. Harry would have been astounded, except that he was using every effort in his being to just make it a little farther. . .
Leaves and twigs scratched at his face and legs and arms, but Harry sprinted with everything he had. The things were right behind him now.
Draco burst out from the trees, not slowing at all to plunge head long into the rapids. Harry escaped the forest just seconds later, but he only got a couple steps before a werewolf lunged at him, knocking him to the ground and snarling loudly as claws dug around his backpack and into soft flesh –
"Petrificus Totalus!" Wood yelled. and the monster collapsed immediately, its substantial weight crashing down on Harry.
"Accio Harry!" the Weasley twins called in unison.
Weak, Harry had still been struggling under the hairy, smelly body, but then magic seized him and forcibly hauled him out from under it, straight into the fast-moving river, three werewolves snapping at his heels.
Sputtering and flailing, Harry was dragged several meters through oddly unfamiliar water until four arms caught him and held him against the current. George and Fred, magically anchored to the riverbed, looked down at him in concern. The werewolf's wound on his shoulder bled freely into the strange water. . .
Harry felt the fluid vibrating around him, sparkling and turning silver, then all the soldiers fell through the river.
! BREAK !
They landed on their feet, as though they had only fallen a meter. In their weakness, several stumbled, including Harry, and he would have fallen to the ground had the twins not again grabbed his arms to support him. Eyes darted around, taking in the apparently abandoned room, dimly lit by muggle fluorescence.
There was a tense moment when everyone was braced for an attack, followed shortly by relief when none proved imminent. The soldiers began casting drying spells on each other, and George and Fred insisted on healing his wound with the world's most protracted healing spell.
Draco scowled slightly at the sight, berating himself for the unwelcome ache of jealously and concern. He forced his attention elsewhere, anywhere, his environment –
The windows were covered, by cardboard Draco realized as he approached. Bending a well-used corner, he peered through the dirty glass to see. . .
He noticed the cement pavement, a streetlamp, and a street lined by closed window fronts, easily recognizing the daily sights of another lifetime. Not for the first time, his fingers twitched, wanting to grip a Desert Eagle that he had never really owned. "We're in a muggle town," he announced to all, turning around. "We probably passed through to Nottingham."
"It was the blood," Harry stated, matter-of-factly, watching his shoulder as he tried out the newly healed muscles. "It mixed with the water, reacted, then. . . here we are."
It made just about as much sense as anything in the wizarding world. He looked up, then regretted it immediately. Everyone was glancing around uncomfortably, but Harry was familiar enough with this scene to know that it would only be a moment before everyone settled for staring at him. He had to figure out what to do, ASAP.
"Oliver, this girl you know, would she have access to a magical fireplace?"
Wood was a little startled to be addressed, but nodded quickly. "Almost certainly."
"Okay, then a few of us will go make contact. Everyone else should stay here. Restrict yourselves to low level magic, so no one is detected. Stay alert. We'll be back soon, but if something should happen, we'll meet 48 hours from now at the steps of the mayor's building. Everyone got that?"
The soldiers all nodded and voiced affirmative, all except Draco, who demanded with Malfoy arrogance, "Let me go."
Though the nature of the 'request' itself indicated a deference to Harry's authority, no one was pleased to see Harry agree with such complete lack of hesitance – even those who weren't prejudiced against Slytherin still had a hard time trusting or liking a Malfoy. It was impossible not to notice the inexplicable connection between the blonde and Harry Potter, as they were not being subtle about it.
Harry turned to the twins. "Fred, George, you two are in charge while I'm gone. Keep everyone awake, and spirits up."
"Yes, sir!" the Weasleys barked in unison, words grave despite their intended mockery.
Harry gestured to Draco and Oliver to come closer. "Take off your robes," he said, taking off his own. "The pants and shirt are passable muggle apparel, but we need to change them to more subdued colors."
Oliver charmed his pants gray and his shirt dark blue, Draco changed everything black, and Harry turned his shirt forest green and his pants beige. Anyone who looked too close would find it odd that they were all wearing exactly the same style, but it would have to do – combined with a disinterest spell.
Then Harry took the time to look appraisingly at his crew: they were a scrappy bunch, stronger for being the last ones standing. Finally, heturned on his heel, saying, "Lets go," and marched towards the door, Draco and Oliver close behind.
Outside, it had stopped raining, and they began walking down the street; Harry in the lead, flanked by the other two.
"Where does your friend live?" Harry asked, spying what appeared to be a big intersection up ahead.
"Um, I can't remember the address exactly," Oliver rushed nervously. "But it was down the street from the modern art museum."
Harry glanced at Draco, whose skin and hair contrasted starkly and strikingly with his black attire; his face was hard, and his expression unyielding. Harry allowed himself to indulge in a moment of relief that Draco was here with him, where he could protect him.
At the intersection, cars were driving by, and by glancing up and down the street, Dracoy spotted exactly what they needed – a taxi, parked outside a busy pub. "There!" he pointed.
"Perfect," Harry replied. They noted the street names (Kirkby and Bunbury), then they made straight for the cab and piled into the back.
"Would you take us to the modern art museum?"
A Pakistani driver turned to look at the three tall youth, stuffed in the back of his cab. "You know its closed at night, right?"
! CHAPTER END !
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