I'd like to thank Balthazar23, Antar23, werewolfXZ, damadape, TheNarratingMan, WraithNX01, Vahktang, flixus, Lynix, TripsToTheRescue, fredfred, InquisitorCOC for betareading.

Chapter 12: The Second Trap Part 3

Ministry of Magic, London, July 9th, 1996

Cornelius Fudge hated coming in to work early. He also hated working late, but if given a choice, he'd rather work late than come in early. He liked sleeping in, and working late was also a good excuse if he didn't feel like going home early. And if he never worked late, it wouldn't be a good excuse.

But with the current crisis, he had to go to work early and work late. And it was all the fault of… well, that remained to be determined. But it wasn't his fault. He hadn't been kidnapped by some forgotten Portkey. Nor had he started an investigation that was ruffling all sorts of feathers in the Wizengamot. And also in the ICW.

But he was the one who had to deal with all the problems this caused. The Scandinavians were stalling, France was protesting about an investigation involving the Scandinavians based upon a report from France, the press was speculating about the houngans kidnapping magical children as they used to, before Albus shut them down after the Grindelwald War… What had he done to deserve this?

"Mr Travers is here, sir," his secretary told him.

"Thank you, Hilda. Please send him in." Cornelius dropped his smile as soon as the witch turned around. It was never a good sign when Trevor Travers - TT for those who went to school with him, such as Cornelius himself - wanted to meet early. Even back at Hogwarts, the man had barely made it to breakfast in the mornings. But he was a respected member of the Wizengamot; had been so ever since the demise or incarceration of the entire main branch of the Travers family following the Dark Lord's defeat.

Cornelius shuddered. He didn't want to remember those times. The fear every time he went out, never knowing what he might find. The horrors he had seen...

"Cornelius!" TT greeted him with a wide and fake smile.

"TT! Have a seat!" Cornelius matched it with one of his own. "Good morning. What brings you to me so early in the day?" Best to get it over with. He had a lot of paperwork waiting for him.

"Straight to the point? That's what I like about you!" TT lied. "So… it's about an investigation."

Cornelius suppressed a groan. Of course it was! TT knew that Amelia was responsible for the DMLE. The fact that the wizard was here meant one of two things: He had already bothered Amelia, and she had sent him packing, or he didn't think she would honour his request.

Cornelius knew that that was very likely. Amelia wasn't the sort of witch to bend the rules - not even for the Wizengamot. Or especially not for the Wizengamot. Her rigid adherence to the law made her a pain in the butt to work with sometimes - a lot of times, actually, given that politics required a lot of flexibility - but it also meant that Amelia would never have a majority in the Wizengamot, should she try to become Minister for Magic. The Wizengamot members knew her too well to ever make such a mistake. Imagining Amelia as Minister… They would lose half the Ministry in half a year. "An investigation by the DMLE?" He asked.

"Yes." TT nodded. "I've heard that they are investigating Alfons Weatherby. A shop owner in Knockturn Alley." TT sneered. "A fence, as I was given to understand. As you know, my manor was burgled fifteen years ago, and a number of family heirlooms were stolen."

"Yes." It hadn't been TT's manor at the time, but it would be impolite to point that out.

"That's why I need an exact list of everything the man bought and sold from questionable sources since then."

Ah. "Have you asked the DMLE about it? They are the ones carrying out the investigation." If TT went to bother Amelia, he'd be out of Cornelius's hair for the morning, at least.

"Amelia told me that she couldn't say anything about an ongoing investigation."

"Ah."

"So, since you're her superior…" TT smiled. "This is really important. Not just for my family, but for others."

Ah, so that was TT's game: He wanted to know what else might've been stolen and, most importantly, from whom. He was in the clear - he hadn't owned the manor at the time, so any questionable objects that might reappear wouldn't incriminate him. But some of his colleagues were in a different position.

Great. If he helped out TT - he could finagle such a list for himself by exercising his oversight powers - then a number of other Wizengamot members would pester him about it. At least Lucius wouldn't be affected; he had been pardoned by Cornelius's predecessor.

And if he didn't help TT, he'd lose the man's support. Which would mean a few bills he was counting on wouldn't pass.

Great. He beamed at TT. "I'll see what I can do, but I can make no promises - you know this involves James's family."

"So I've heard. Terrible what happened to his son."

"Yes." Cornelius nodded. "Albus is involved as well."

"Oh."

"Yes. And the international implications…" Cornelius titled his head and sighed. "It's a mess." Which was the truth, actually. Some countries saw this as an opportunity to settle old scores. Or at least make it known that they were still holding grudges.

"Well, do your best, please."

"Of course," Cornelius lied.

Unknown Location, July 9th, 1996

"Oh, Harry… That was such a great game! Despite the Slytherins using fouls and cheating to take out everyone on the team but you, you still beat them! I thought my heart stopped when you went into the Wronski Feint, only it wasn't a Wronski Feint - you caught the Snitch just before they scored. A second later, and they would've tied!" She batted her eyes at him and ran a hand over her chest, emphasising the tight fit of her robes. "Another second later, and the Bludgers would've caught you! I screamed when they stopped inches from your face!"

He smiled confidently at her. "Oh, I just did what a good Seeker would do - I caught the Snitch or died trying."

"You're too modest! You're the best Seeker in all of England! You'll get us the cup as soon as you're going pro!"

"I'll do my best," he told her, raising his chin a little. "Don't worry, we'll win the cup." Just as Gryffindor had won the cup for four years straight - ever since he joined the team.

"But I need to take a shower now - beating the entire Slytherin team single-handedly tends to make you work up a sweat."

"Oh, of course! But will you come back?"

"I will." He beamed at her. "After visiting my friends in the Infirmary, of course."

"Of course."

He smiled at his admirer - a seventh year girl - and entered the locker room. None of the others was there - they were all in the infirmary - so he had the place and the showers to himself. No stealing glances at the Chasers, either, alas. But with the beauty waiting outside…

He grinned as he stripped and entered the showers. After turning them on, he stored his wand in his water-proof enchanted holster. You couldn't be too cautious. Not with Slytherins trying everything to stop him from beating them.

The hot water on his head and neck felt very nice. He had sweated like a pig as he played the best game ever. One Seeker against an entire team. He closed his eyes and craned his neck, letting the water hit his face. Yes, he deserved this.

Then he felt something touch his back and froze. How the…? Then arms wrapped around his chest from behind, hands gliding over his muscles, and he heard a whisper next to his ear. "I think you deserve a reward."

Oh. He swallowed, looking down. Soft, gentle hands caressed his chest. "Yes…?" he breathed more than he spoke.

"A very special reward."

He shuddered. He could feel her against his back. Bare skin pressing against his own. That was… Merlin's Beard! He wet his lips even though water was still pouring down on him. "Yes." He swallowed, then turned around.

The girl took a step back, smiling at him. Her wild mane was wet, plastered to her head and shoulders. Her brown eyes shone, and she beamed at him, licking her lips, as she said…

"Wake up, Potter!"

What the…? Harry Potter gasped as he opened his eyes. Granger? He had such a dream with bloody Granger? What the hell was wrong with him? You didn't have erotic dreams about Granger! "No!"

"You realise that if you respond, you prove that you're awake?" Granger sounded amused as she shook her head. She turned away before he could think of a comeback and walked towards the living room of their shelter.

He glared at her back. This was her fault! If she hadn't dressed in such revealing clothes - far too short shorts that almost disappeared under her shirt - he wouldn't have… whatever.

He sighed and got up. They really needed to get off this island. If they were stuck here any longer, he'd probably forget what a real hot girl looked like.

He dressed and joined her at the table. "And you're wrong. People can talk in their sleep."

"You didn't, though," she replied with a grin. "Not then."

He drew a short breath. Had he talked in his sleep? Had Granger listened? He should've asked Uncle Remus to teach him a privacy charm. If she overheard him moaning… Or, worse, if she heard him moan her name…

"Is something wrong?"

He noticed that she was staring at him.

"Nothing," he quickly told her. "Just getting a little tired of coconut for breakfast, lunch and dinner."

"Ah." She nodded. "That was expected. But there's not much that we can do about it."

"Not until we take out the wyvern," he agreed. And they would do that. "We'll finish the trap today."

She pursed her lips but nodded. "Breakfast first, though. You might not like it, but you need the calories."

"I know," he replied, rolling his eyes.

She sniffed and turned away to fetch more coconut while he sat down at the table. He briefly wondered if he should point out that she was serving him breakfast as if she was a stay at home witch. That would rile her up.

Which would be stupid, of course. Even though it might also get her to stop lecturing him. Not even Mum lectured him like that.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Back home, Mum would have made breakfast. A full English. Tea, hot chocolate for Rose, bacon, eggs, toast, baked beans, and she'd add orange juice and an apple so it would be healthy. They would sit down, try to get the Prophet before Dad arrived, and… He sighed.

"It's all we have," Granger said with a slight frown. "Moaning about it won't change it into something else."

Oh for…! "It's not that," he said. "I just remembered how we'd have breakfast at home."

She frowned for a moment before her eyes widened. "Oh." Then she seemed to hunch a little. "We'll get off this island," she said after a few seconds had passed. "One way or another."

"Of course we will. Mum and Dad will come for us." They had to.

"Or Dumbledore," she added.

"Or Uncle Peter." He was the best agent in Britain. An international wizard of mystery, Mum had called him.

"Or a task force from the Ministry," Granger said.

He scoffed. The Ministry? He'd believe that… well, Dad might lead Aurors. That would count.

"You don't have a high opinion of the Ministry, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Your father's a high-ranking Ministry employee," she pointed out. "A shoo-in for the next Department-head."

"He's an exception," Harry told her. "As is Bones. But most of the Ministry employees are stupid."

"And you would know that?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Dad and Mum said so. Sirius agrees - and he's in the Wizengamot. And Ron's Dad says the same. Even Percy complains about his co-workers."

"That's still a very small sample. The mere fact that the Ministry is still standing and providing essential services to Wizarding Britain shows that it cannot be as useless as you claim."

"I didn't say it's useless," he protested. "But it's filled with idiots. If a few key people in every Department left, the whole thing would collapse. That almost happened during the war." Only the people hadn't left - they had been murdered.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not Dad's; he works harder than anyone else in the Auror Corps." He glared at her - he knew what she had been about to say.

"Perhaps he should hire more capable wizards and witches, then." She sniffed. "Last I heard, muggleborns are still woefully underrepresented amongst Ministry employees."

"Not every muggleborn is cut out to be an Auror," he retorted. "It takes talent, training and the will to persevere," he quoted Dad.

"That sounds like the sort of excuse the Old Boys' network likes to sprout when people ask why there are so few women in positions of power."

She really sounded like Mum when she was like this. "That doesn't make it untrue. Dad wouldn't turn down a muggleborn, but not too many sign up."

"And why would they? With the Ministry predominantly staffed with the same sort of bigot they had to deal with at Hogwarts for years?" She sniffed again.

"You mean the Slytherins?" he asked.

"They don't have a monopoly on bigotry, but yes - they don't hide the fact that they think they're superior to anyone else by virtue of their blood. Not that the other houses don't have their fair share of blood bigots."

"Far fewer of them than when Mum and Dad were at Hogwarts," he said.

"You mean they are more discreet and stick to sneering rather than cursing." She scoffed. "Voldemort's death at least made them refrain from violence. Most of them, in any case. But I'm sure that many of the bigots long for the times when they could teach 'uppity mudbloods' a lesson without getting punished for it."

He scowled. "You can't say that."

She raised her eyebrows with a smirk. "Which word? Mudblood?"

"Yes!" he hissed. "Good people don't use the word. Show some respect!"

She snorted. "I'm a muggleborn. If anyone has the right to use the word, it's one of us." She stared at him. "Isn't it funny how people don't say it anymore, yet think it all the same? There must be many Death Eaters around."

"You can't call every bigot a Death Eater."

"If the shoe fits? If Voldemort had won the war, they'd happily help him murder people like me." She scoffed again. "History taught us that."

Well, there wasn't much that he could say against that.

Hermione Granger shook her head. Potter really didn't understand the problem. Preventing people from using the slur wouldn't change anything. The bigots would just find other, probably more subtle terms to use. And keep hiring and promoting 'the right sort'. That was how things worked - in Wizarding or muggle Britain. At least Wizarding Britain wasn't nearly as sexist as her home country.

"Well, if you're finished, we should start preparing the trap. And we need to consider how to bait the wyvern too." She stood up.

"Didn't we agree that I'd do it?"

She pursed her lips. It still felt wrong to have Potter risk his life like that. Even if he was the logical choice. "I meant how to make the wyvern see you. The canopy had worked well for hiding us from its eyes so far."

"Ah." He grinned. "Thinning the canopy shouldn't be much of a problem with a few Cutting Curses, and then we can cast spells to attract its attention."

"That would permanently reduce our cover," she pointed out.

"As long as we get the wyvern, that's fine. And we couldn't stay anyway, should we fail again," he retorted.

She refrained from rolling her eyes. "What about other potential threats? Such as whoever owns or lays claim to the island?" Hadn't he thought about that?

"We don't know if there are any others on this island."

"And we won't know until we explore the entire island," she retorted. "But until then, removing our cover would be reckless."

He pressed his lips together. "Alright. Then we'll have to pull the branches back somehow and create holes in the canopy."

"And using spells to attract it might also make it more cautious," she added. "It knows that spells can hurt it."

"That didn't stop it from attacking us anyway, as soon as we were out of the cave."

That was correct. Still… "It would be better if it thought it could surprise us."

"That's true," he agreed, to her surprise. "But how long can we be ready for its attack? An hour? Two? If we use spells to draw its attention, we won't have to wait overly long."

It wasn't as if she would fall asleep, but he had a point. Again. "Alright. Let's hope the creature isn't too smart. I don't want to underestimate it again."

"Of course not - I would loathe abandoning our cosy home here." He grinned at her.

"It's a shelter, not a home," she snapped. They wouldn't stay here!

He blinked. "Well, it's better than the cave. More comfortable. We can spruce it up with a little effort, too. Once the wyvern's dead."

"We'll see about that." She wanted to get off the island, not make it her home. "Let's go and dig the pit."

He nodded.

Hermione Granger wiped the sweat from her brow and took a deep breath. Hot and humid - the island had a perfect tropical climate. She didn't even have to exert herself to sweat. And she was exerting herself. A little, at least. Digging the pit hadn't been hard at all - a few Vanishing Spells, and it was large enough to fit the wyvern. A waste of soil, but they weren't looking to become farmers.

Fabricating and placing the barbed spikes, on the other hand… that had been exhausting. But the pit was now lined with barbed metal spikes, each of them a yard long. And safely stuck to the bedrock.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Potter must be tiring as well, she thought as the boy rose out of the pit on a floating plank - he usually preferred to show off silent casting.

"Halfway done!" he said.

"And now comes the hard part," she said. "The cover."

He grinned. "That's not hard. All we need is enlarged foliage stuck together."

"And some soil and grass to cover it up," she corrected him. "We can't count on the wyvern falling for a badly disguised trap again."

"It wasn't badly disguised," he protested.

"But the wyvern knows about it - and it might be suspicious of foliage covering a large patch on the ground. It wouldn't look natural," she pointed out.

"Then we will need a few poles to support the cover," he said. "Thin so they'll break under the wyvern's weight."

"Yes." It would be a little tricky - large flying magical creatures were surprisingly light for their size.

"The opposite of our shelter!" He grinned again. "Well, I'll collect palm tree fronds. You can prepare the planks and poles."

She bit her lower lip to keep herself from snapping at his presumption to order her around. It was a sound suggestion, after all. She still nodded a little jerkily, not that he seemed to notice - he kept glancing at the sky while they talked. He'd done so the whole day.

Well, it was a good thing that he was taking the threat seriously. They really couldn't afford to underestimate the wyvern.

Harry Potter smiled. The pit trap was - finally! - ready. And he had to admit, if only to himself, that Granger's insistence on covering the trap with grass sod had worked out well. Once they had managed to get the damn stuff to stick to the foliage covering without ripping it apart. He resisted the urge to cast another cleaning charm on his face just to be sure he hadn't dirt streaks on his skin any more. "So, all that's left now is the bait."

Granger sighed and looked up. "The pièce de résistance, in other words."

He didn't recognise the term, but he could guess the meaning. And he shrugged. "Shouldn't be too hard."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll reserve the right to tell you 'I told you so' once you find out that it's not as easy as you think."

He scoffed. "Watch me!" A flick of his wand summoned the plank, a swish had it float, and he sat down on it. "I'll be done in a jiffy!"

He rose in the air before she could say anything. Hah!

He reached the lower branches forming the canopy and looked down. Hm. If he was to stay in the designated spot, then… with the angle of approach… and the line of sight.

A log floated into view - on the ground - then turned until it was standing tall. On the bait spot.

He didn't need to look at Granger to know she was smiling at him. She was such a show-off. He'd already calculated the location he needed to clear - he was a Seeker; calculating vectors was what separated the good from the great Seekers.

He guided his plank a bit further and reached out for the thinner branches. All he had to do was to drag them back and stick them to the main branch or trunk.

Which, he quickly found out, turned out to be much more difficult than he had anticipated. The branches weren't very pliable, and using magic to bend them tended to break them. So he had to push and pull, stuck to the branch for safety. Granger was across from him, on the other side of the pit, struggling even more.

He shook his head and guided his plank to her. "Let's work together."

She pursed her lips for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. It should be easier if we apply our strength together."

He smiled and grabbed the branch she had been pulling back. "Together!" The branch bent easier with both of them pulling at it, and casting a Sticking Charm on the tip was also much easier with one holding in place.

A few minutes later, they were making progress at a decent rate.

But the two of them working closely together also had a disadvantage: They were literally working close together. And their robes were still back at the shelter, serving as mattresses. Which meant that when he touched her - which happened all the time when they pulled on particularly resistant branches - he couldn't help touching her bare legs. Or arms. Or catching glimpses down her shirt when she leaned forward. He could've done without knowing how her bra looked. Or how her shorts showed off her butt when she bent over.

Which she was doing again. He quickly looked up at the sky. Checking for the wyvern. And not looking at Granger. "Sky's clear," he said.

"Good," Granger replied. "We're about halfway through, I'd say. Without flying down and checking from below."

"Let's do the other side, then."

They flew around the pit, just in case, and started on the other trees there. The sun was sinking - it was late afternoon now. "Almost done," Harry said after the next few branches.

"Good." Granger wiped some sweat from her brow, and Harry didn't stare at her sweat-soaked top that was clinging to her chest. Not much, at least.

"Anyway," he started to say, "we can…"

The wyvern's roar interrupted him.

Granger gasped. Both of them immediately started to search the sky for the creature.

"There!" Harry blurted out. "Over the top of the mountain."

"It's a hill," Granger corrected him. "It might see us from there," she added.

"If it has the same eyes as a dragon, yes," he agreed. That meant… "Go to the shelter!" he snapped.

"What?"

"We need to finish this - but if we're both caught up here…" He shook his head and stared at her.

He saw her clench her teeth for a moment, glaring at him. Then scoffed. "Alright. But don't do anything stupid."

"Me? Never!" he replied with far more confidence than he felt.

While she descended, he turned back to look at the beast. It was circling around the mountain top. He knew what it was doing - it was looking for them. He was a Seeker; he could recognise search patterns easily.

Damn. He felt his heart beating faster.

This would be tricky.

He grabbed the next branch and pulled, keeping his eyes on the wyvern in the sky. Then, he swung his leg over the bent branch to keep it in place so he could cast a Sticking Charm - but by the time he had his wand pointed at it, the branch had moved just enough so it wasn't touching the base of the branch any more.

Clenching his teeth, he squeezed his thighs together, using his free hand to pull as well. There! He quickly cast the Sticking Charm, then let his breath out as he could finally relax his legs. One branch down, about six more left to be sure. Now, where was…

He looked up and froze. He couldn't see the wyvern any more. It wasn't circling the top of the hill. Where was it?

He looked around frantically. Where was it? Had it landed? Or… He turned his head and squinted, looking southwest, close to the…

Cursing, he flicked his wand and cast a Levitation Charm on the plank stuck to the branch. He had to get down. If the wyvern was coming at him with the sun at its back…

It was. He felt his heart skip a beat as a shadow suddenly covered the sun - the wyvern had spread its wings as it bore down on him.

Harry jumped off the still stuck plank, aiming for a lower branch. He felt the air move as the wyvern's claws barely missed him, his wand moving to cast a Cushioning Charm...

He hit the branch before he could finish casting the spell and barely managed to twist to move his wand away to keep it from being broken by the impact. Instead, he hit it with his thigh and bounced off, straight down - straight towards the covered pit….

He waved his wand, despite knowing even a Cushioning Charm wouldn't save him. But he...

"Accio Potter's clothes!" someone screamed.

And Harry was pulled to the side, towards the shelter. But he was still falling, still on course to hit the centre of the pit trap.

He twisted, pointed his wand at his chest, and cast a Banishing Charm at himself. He lost his wand as he was blown away, towards the shelter, but he managed to clear the pit trap before he hit the ground and slid several yards, rolling and tumbling over sod and roots and smaller stones.

"Potter!" Granger screamed again.

"My wand! Summon my wand!" he yelled, blinking. He wasn't quite sure where up and down was, but he knew he needed his wand. "Summon it!"

A moment passed. He was on his back, on the ground, he realised. In front of the shelter. And he was hurting all over.

"Accio Potter's wand!"

And there came his wand, flying towards him. He started to smile.

Until he saw the wyvern swoop down behind it, flying straight towards him and Granger.

Hermione Granger froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. The wyvern was headed straight for her and Potter, wings flaring to stop it from crashing into the ground, then pulling in so it could swoop at them. So fast. Too fast.

The shelter entrance was behind her. If she turned and ran, she'd make it. But Potter was on the ground. Hurt. Wandless.

She stepped over him and cast a Shield Charm, then laid down on top of him, closing her eyes.

A moment later, her shield shattered under the impact of the wyvern's claws. The force of it threw her off Potter and into the sod-covered front of the shelter. She felt the air being knocked out of her lungs as she hit it and heard the wyvern roar as it flew overhead, clearing the shelter by inches before crashing into the trees behind it. Her chest hurt. Her leg hurt. But she had to move. She had her wand. Potter had lost his. They had to get to the shelter. She had to…

Potter was moving - away from her! The damned idiot was running towards the pit. No, towards his wand on the ground!

She groaned and cursed as she got up. The wyvern would be turning around for another run. They had to get in the shelter! "Potter!"

He picked up his wand, raised - cast. Shield Charm, she realised. Then he grinned at her, blood running down his face. "Summon me from the ground!"

"What?" she screamed back.

But he was already running. Towards the pit. And the wyvern was roaring - swooping down. And she understood his plan.

And wanted to curse the bloody fool for it!

Harry Potter glanced over his shoulder as he ran - as fast as his battered body could manage - towards the pit trap. The edge of the pit trap. The wyvern was tucking its wings in, drawing its head back and its chest up to bring its claws to bear.

He had to time this exactly right, or Granger wouldn't summon anything but bits of him. He glanced ahead. Ten yards left. Back. The wyvern was clearing the shelter - Granger was ducking. Six yards. If he misjudged the distance, he'd fall into the pit. Couldn't look forward. The wyvern's claws were spreading. Two yards.

He threw himself down onto the ground, sideways. He rolled towards the edge of the pit, ending on his back, staring at the claws bearing down on him. Oh my…

The claws hit his shield, sliding over it as they shattered it - and launched him forward, over the pit.

And something pulled him back. Granger. The wyvern's claws came down as the creature tried to grab him - but it missed, the claws closing around empty air inches from his chest as he was dragged back towards the shelter.

Then something hit him, clipped his shoulder, and he smashed into the ground, bouncing worse than after a failed Wronski Feint. The wyvern's tail!

He rolled, pain flaring up in his shoulder, and the tail with its stinger stabbed into the ground before his eyes, narrowly missing his head.

Then the stinger was ripped out of the ground as the wyvern crashed into the ground. Into the pit - he saw the sod covering the pit shatter as the huge creature hit it and impaled itself on the spikes below.

The monster roared, wings thrashing - it wasn't dead. It wasn't dead.

Harry coughed as he got up, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder. And his side.

The wyvern was beating its wings, trying to lift itself out of the pit. And shrieking so loud, Harry's ears rang. He could see where a spike had ripped through a wing, but he couldn't see the belly of the beast. Just its back - and the wildly thrashing stinger.

"Finite!"

Granger at his side, casting. And one of the shrunk palm tree trunks snapped back to its original size - and slammed into the beast's side.

Right. He raised his wand, aiming at the other strip of shrunken trunks. There, the little stick… "Finite!" he yelled.

Another tree trunk shot through the air, growing as it flipped over itself and landed on top of the wyvern.

"Finite!" Granger again.

He tuned her out and focused on the next trunk. "Finite!"

This time, the tree trunk slammed into the wyvern at the perfect angle, pushing it further down, onto the spikes. It roared so loud, his ears hurt. Granger stumbled next to him.

"Finite!" And another snapped back to its size perfectly, but missed the beast, sliding off its wing.

They had half a dozen of them ready on each side. He pointed his wand at the third on his side. "Finite!"

The tree trunk smashed into the creature's head. But the monster kept roaring. Its tail lashed out, the stinger cutting through the torn grass in front of him.

"Finite!" Granger's next trunk missed again - the wyvern hadn't fallen into the centre of the pit.

His turn. "Finite!"

A body blow, but a glancing one.

"Finite!" Granger's next trunk flipped over and landed on the wyvern's back. It threw its head back - was that blood flowing out of its mouth?

He pointed at the second to last trunk on his side. "Finite!"

Another hit to the wyvern's head. Still not enough to knock it out, much less kill it.

"Finite!" Granger screamed her spell. Her tree trunk seemed to appear in mid-air, flipping over - and landing on the left wing, pushing it down into another spike.

"Finite!" Harry's last trunk flipped like a catapult and cracked down on the beast's back.

They had used up their trap. And the monster was still alive. No.

But it wasn't moving as much as it had before. It still was trying to free itself, though.

"No." He realised he had spoken out loud and scoffed. "You won't get out of this!"

He pointed his wand and cast a sticking charm on the spike he could see piercing the wing.

"Oh, clever!" Granger copied him, aiming for the body of the beast.

"We need to get to the other side," he snapped. "Its head is vulnerable!"

They had to give the pit a wide berth - despite several spells, they didn't manage to stick the tail to anything - so they had to push through thick underbrush and over rougher ground. Moving hurt, but Harry did his best to ignore the pain he felt every time something touched his shoulder or he stumbled. They had to kill the wyvern now. Before it recovered. Finish this once and for all.

They reached the other side of the pit. And Harry could see the wyvern's head. Its wounded side hadn't healed, and fresh blood was dripping out of its mouth. One of its fangs had splintered, but otherwise, it wasn't hurt.

As soon as it saw them emerge from the underbrush, it tried to bite them, the head shooting towards them, but not even the long neck of the creature was enough to reach them.

He stuck it to the ground, but it ripped the topsoil and sod off when it recoiled, screeching at them. The stench of rot and pus was almost enough to make him puke. How to kill it…

He pointed his wand at the trunk that had failed to even touch the beast. "Accio trunk!"

"What are we doing?" Granger asked as the trunk landed on the ground next to them - they had to take a step back to avoid it rolling over their feet.

"Banish splinters at it until it dies," he told her.

"That didn't work before," she protested. "We need something bigger."

He looked at the trunk, then at the wyvern. And then at Granger.

She nodded at him.

He cast a few cutting curses, sharpening one end of the trunk.

"I've stuck another spike to its belly, but I don't know if it'll hold it," Granger told him as she transfigured the wood into metal.

He grunted an answer as he lined the trunk up. "Hey! You ugly monster!" he yelled. But the wyvern was ignoring him, trying to tear itself free. He wouldn't be able to hit its mouth with the wyvern shaking its head like that.

"I'll be bait. You banish the trunk."

"No!"

He ignored her protests and took a step forward. Then another. "Hey!"

"Potter, you idiot!"

He chuckled. "Hey, you ugly beast!" Another step, and he was right at the edge of the dent the beast's head had made before.

And this time, it noticed him. It froze for a moment, then roared and snapped at him. He jumped back and to the side, and something flew past him - into the maw of the beast.

Yes! He flicked his wand and stuck the spike to the maw.

The monster roared again, shaking its head, trying to dislodge the trunk. Then it bit down on it. But the trunk was solid metal.

And the attempt made the beast hold still enough for Harry to hit the spike with an Engorgement Charm.

A moment later, the spike tore through the wyvern's head, ripping an eye out. The beast's roars cut off, and its head fell down - onto another spike. More blood ran out of its torn mouth, down the spike. And it stopped moving.

And breathing.

He stared at the body. It wasn't moving. It wasn't breathing.

"The blood's still flowing," Granger mumbled, next to him. "That means the heart's still beating. Unless it's simple gravity at work…"

"It's not really squirting or something," he pointed out.

"No, it isn't. And it seems to be stopping." Granger chuckled. Once. Then again. Then she flicked her wand, and a Stinging Hex hit the wyvern's remaining eye.

It didn't even twitch.

"It's dead," Granger said.

"It's finally dead," Harry agreed.

"It's dead!" Granger started panting. "We did it!"

They had done it. Harry felt his mouth twist into a smile. They had done it - they had killed the wyvern! "We did it! We did it!"

He reached out and hugged her.

Then he kissed her.