My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.
Chapter 16: The Flight
East of Prizren, Kosovo, August 2nd, 2005
Ron's first thought, stupid as it was, was that he had worn that bloody, itchy beard for nothing. Had Dumbledore sold them out? That didn't make much sense. The old man had had ample opportunities to get rid of them, and he would know by now that Hermione wouldn't let that go. So… a leak in his organisation? But the former spymaster didn't seem like someone who'd slip up on compartmentalisation. Still, someone high enough in Phoenix Gruppe's black ops department could have done this.
"Mr Berisha." Harry nodded at the man as if he were completely unperturbed by this turn of events.
Ron copied him. "Good morning. I see our reputation precedes us." He was quite cool and collected, in his own opinion, for someone facing down five assault rifles.
Berisha laughed. "Indeed. I've been expecting you for a while." He spoke almost perfect English, Ron noted. Not the kind you pick up in a few years at a local school. "It seems you aren't quite as good at your job as I was told."
Their job? Had he expected them to track him down through his cousin? Who would have known that Harry and Ron would have followed this lead in person? Well, most members of CI5, which included Yaxley.
"You sacrificed your cousin to lure us into a trap?" Harry asked. Of course, Ron's friend had to push the man's buttons.
Berisha's smile vanished at once. "No!" he spat. "I didn't even know that Avni had taken a job that would lead him to Britain."
"Good job, Harry. Remind him that we killed his cousin," Ron whispered.
His friend ignored him. "Well, he did, and we're here. I don't suppose you'll tell us who warned you?"
Berisha laughed again. "Very funny, Mr... Potter, I suppose. I was told you were the more obnoxious one."
That clinched it - someone at CI5 had warned Berisha. Or someone for whom such a mole worked. Or someone with access to that information. On the other hand, Berisha hadn't denied knowing the name of his informant. Ron grinned. "You get used to him. Eventually. So… you also know why we're here."
"I know you're British police officers. Who're not supposed to operate outside Britain. That raises some doubts about your intentions towards me."
"Bajram can vouch for us," Harry said.
"Bajram will vouch for anyone who pays him." Berisha sneered at their guide, who glared at him in turn and muttered something in Albanian.
Ron pressed his lips together. Great - the two had a history. Or Bajram had a shady reputation. Either way, it wasn't a good thing. "We're willing to pay for the information we need. And we can pay a lot - Harry's godfather is rich." He didn't want to mention Phoenix Gruppe even though they had numbers and codes if they needed to - Dumbledore knew how to prepare undercover missions in hostile countries.
"Oh, I know. But I think you'll pay for more than just information - after all, someone's very interested in you. Someone with deep pockets. I think we'll have a bidding war." Berisha grinned. One of his men muttered something in Albanian, and he glared at him before retorting in the same language.
'Avni'? Did they just mention the name of the dead mercenary?
"The guard is another cousin," Bajram confirmed Ron's suspicion with a whisper. "He wants revenge."
Great. But Berisha was distracted, as were at least two of his guards. If they wanted to get out of this, now was the time. "Take cover," he whispered.
"What?" Bajram said.
Then Ron snapped his belt buckle, spilling the pinch of Peruvian Darkness Powder concealed within, and everything went black. Ron dived to the side, rolled over his shoulder and grabbed the miniature rifle dangling from his necklace. A sharp tug broke it off, and, a moment later, it returned to its original size in his hands.
Shots rang out as he rolled across the sandy ground and out of the area covered in darkness, his rifle already lined up with the closest guard. He squeezed the trigger and sent a three-round burst into the man, then another into the next guard. "Freeze!" he yelled, aiming at Berisha, who was moving towards the door as Harry dropped the last guard.
But the warlord didn't listen, and Ron squeezed off another burst that hit him in the leg. Before he could secure Berisha, though, one of the guards who had been behind them charged out of the darkness - who charged ahead in such a situation? - and ran over Ron, stumbling in the process. Ron rolled on to his side and managed to bring the rifle around before the man regained his balance, dropping him with three rounds to the chest.
But Berisha had used the distraction to dive into the house, out of Harry and Ron's line of fire.
"Bajram! Get the car!" Harry yelled, moving towards the door.
Ron followed - they needed Berisha. Alive.
But Bajram didn't answer. Either he had fled, or he had been shot.
Damn.
But they had to get Berisha. And quickly, before he escaped - his house was bound to have an escape route or two.
Harry was at the door, pressed against the wall. "Let's go!"
Ron hurried forward, then crouched down on the other side of the door. "Going low," he said.
Then he held his breath and slid around the corner. The room inside was empty, though a chair and a small table had been knocked over. And there were drops of blood on the floor, leading towards the back.
Harry moved ahead again, gun aimed at the hallway. Ron followed, covering the side door.
They reached the kitchen. "Blood trail," Harry whispered and pointed at the bloodstains near the trapdoor. There was also a back door, but it was locked with a deadbolt from the inside.
Ron nodded at the pantry next to it without saying anything. The trapdoor could be a decoy.
Harry nodded curtly in return and covered the door and trapdoor while Ron went around him, then ripped open the door.
He almost shot the shrieking figure inside the pantry before he realised it was a woman - probably a relative. She was screaming in Albanian but didn't seem to be armed, and there was no room for anyone else inside. He shut the door in her face. That left the trapdoor. Unless the woman had locked the back door behind Berisha, then hid… No. Too convoluted. The trapdoor, then. He moved towards it and wished they had been able to smuggle in stun grenades as well.
They heard more shots and screams from outside, and Ron hesitated. The villagers were mobilising. The others would need help…
"Stick to the plan," Harry muttered.
Clenching his teeth, Ron did and opened the trapdoor.
There was more blood on the wooden stairs leading into the cellar. "Escape tunnel," he muttered. Berisha wouldn't flee to the basement otherwise. Too easy to kill him there, even with the village coming to help.
"Yes."
Harry took point, rushing down the stairs while Ron covered him from above. There wasn't any lighting, but the flashlights mounted on the rifles provided enough illumination for them.
There were lots of old bottles and crates, and more blood on the floor, and one of the shelves lining the walls - modern ones made of metal; IKEA, Ron thought - had been toppled, revealing a tunnel.
Harry still kicked over those crates that might be hiding someone before approaching the door, staying on one side of it.
"He can't move fast with the leg wound," Ron whispered.
Harry nodded. "Ambush." He took his flashlight off the rifle and adjusted the intensity, then signed 'High'.
Ron nodded and crouched down, then moved forward to the edge of the tunnel's entrance. Behind him, Harry moved up until he was close enough to reach the door frame. "3… 2… 1… Go!"
Harry stuck the flashlight around the corner and flicked it on at maximum illumination. Ron heard a grunt as he slid around the corner himself, leading with his rifle. There was Berisha, on the ground, gun - a rifle, which had to have been grabbed during his flight - aimed at the entrance, jerking as he was suddenly blinded.
The Albanian fired wildly, but the recoil from the automatic fire made his rifle's muzzle rise, the shots not even coming close to where Ron was crouching - and aiming. It wasn't ideal, not with Berisha prone on the ground and facing him, but he wouldn't get a better opportunity. He squeezed off a shot, and Berisha screamed, hit in the shoulder.
Harry dashed into the tunnel at once and Ron flicked the safety on as he rose, following his friend. Berisha had dropped his rifle and was trying to draw his pistol, but Harry kicked it out of his hand before he could line it up, then kicked him in the head for good measure.
No one would complain about this suspect being roughed up a little.
Harry quickly searched and tied up Berisha while Ron checked the man's wounds. The shoulder wound was a little more serious than he had intended - the exit wound was in the back - but the lung hadn't been touched, and the bleeding wasn't too bad. The same went for the leg wound - the bullet had passed cleanly through his calf. Ron didn't even bother checking for broken fingers but gripped the man's good shoulder and pulled him up.
They moved back to the cellar as quickly as they could manage in the narrow tunnel while dragging their captive, then Harry went up to secure the kitchen while Ron slung Berisha over his shoulder and followed, straining under the weight of the man on the narrow, creaky stairs.
The pantry door was open, as was the back door - the woman must have fled. And was probably getting more help. Harry locked the door, then they moved back to the living room. Outside, the darkness was already fading. Ron saw Bajram on the ground, in a pool of blood. Poor bastard had caught a full salvo fired blindly into the darkness, or that's what it looked like.
But the shooting was still going on, even worse than before - all of the village's men able to carry a weapon had to be up and about by now. At least it seemed that Ad was still alive and keeping them at bay.
But escaping with Berisha would still be a challenge.
Then another sphere of darkness appeared, covering the entire gate. Ron gasped. Hermione would only do that if she saw no other choice! "Watch your fire!" he yelled to Harry. They had to keep track of their bullets anyway - they hadn't been able to shrink spare magazines. Not without using up more of the irreplaceable solution.
The fire outside the gate intensified, and, a moment later, Hermione crawled out of the black cloud, pressing herself against the wall.
Ron moved towards her, dragging Berisha with him. She didn't look hurt, but that didn't mean anything. Shock could do a lot to people. Harry rushed forward with him. Shots hit the ground near them, bullets ricocheting around.
"On the roof!" Harry shouted, then dropped to one knee and fired. Ron, still carrying Berisha, looked up in time to see a man sliding off the roof, leaving a trail of blood before he disappeared behind the wall.
Where one man went, others would, too. Ron tried to keep his eyes on the other roofs overlooking the yard as he pushed forward. Fortunately, there weren't many - Berisha must have picked his house carefully. But there were more than enough to make staying inside the yard too dangerous.
He reached the wall next to Hermione and crouched down next to her, dropping Berisha. "What happened?"
"I heard the shooting and knew you'd run out of ammunition soon. And they shot out the tires."
Ron cursed. She shouldn't have left the armoured car in which she had been hiding. She would have been safer there. Even with flat tires.
Another burst of automatic fire struck the ground inside the yard, hitting no one but sending splinters and more ricochets across the yard.
Harry returned fire. "Pass me a spare magazine!" he shouted.
Hermione plunged her hand into her beaded bag and pulled out several magazines. "Here!"
"We can't stay here!" Harry yelled. "We need to get into the car! Call Sirius and tell him to step on it! We need covering fire!"
"We can use Berisha as a hostage!" Ron replied. Although the villagers might be too caught up to care even if they noticed and didn't think he was dead already. Or wanted to use the opportunity to kill him.
"Ad?" Harry yelled as Hermione yanked out a radio and started calling Sirius.
They heard the man yell something in Albanian. Then an explosion shook the wall, and everyone dropped to the ground, taking cover, as a cloud of smoke and dust rolled over the wall.
"Grenades!" Ron yelled. They were using grenades.
"No! Too much smoke," Harry retorted, rolling and firing at another roof.
"They blew up the car!" Hermione told them. "They've got RPGs!"
As Ron had expected and feared. What a damn mess. "We need to get back to the house! They'll blow holes in the walls any moment now."
"Ad?" Harry yelled.
No answer came. Which meant the villagers would rush the gate in a moment. As soon as…
The enemy fire grew in volume, tearing up the yard.
"More on the roof behind us!" Harry yelled as he kept the roofs on the other side, those with a clear line of fire at their position, clear. "If they have grenades…"
They had to brave the fire. Any moment, the enemy would storm the yard. Ron took a deep breath. If he rushed forward and drew fire, the others would...
Suddenly, screams rose from the other side of the wall - and from the roof behind them. And yells and curses in Albanian followed.
Sirius and the others had finally managed to get the second Land Rover into position. And he was using the MG-3 they had mounted on top to great effect.
If they suppressed the village… No. "To the house!" Ron yelled, picking up Berisha again. "Run!"
Harry and Hermione followed, Hermione darting past him and into the house, Harry running backwards and firing constantly in short bursts.
Ron pushed on with clenched teeth, forcing himself to run as fast as he could, despite Berisha weighing him down. Any moment, he'd get hit and fall. Like in London. Any moment. He heard bullets whip past his head, saw them hit the ground in front of him. They wouldn't keep missing. Not for much longer.
Something hit him, and he was thrown forward, through the door, then smashed into the ground, rolling to the side, out of the line of fire of the enemy outside.
It had been Harry, he realised after a second spent feeling around on his back. Crazy bastard had tackled him inside.
"Ron!" Hermione was there, touching him, holding out a vial.
He laughed despite the situation. "I'm fine! I wasn't hit!"
She stared at him, panting. Then looked him over before nodding curtly.
Meanwhile, Harry had kicked the door closed and grabbed Hermione's radio. "Sirius? We're in the house. How does it look outside?"
"Half the village is up in arms," Ron heard Ginny's voice answer. "What did you do? Sirius says he can't keep the fire up for much longer, but we can rush the village and get you out."
"No!" Harry snapped. "They have RPGs. Keep your distance."
"But…"
"We're taking the chopper!"
"What?" Hermione blurted out. "Are they close enough?"
"Test it," Harry replied, then fired a few shots through the windows. "We don't have long - they'll be coming at us from the back any minute now."
Ron nodded and dashed to the other corner so he could cover the hallway leading to the kitchen. The back door was barred, but that wouldn't stop people from breaking into the house. Not for long. He hoped that Berisha's presence would prevent them from throwing grenades into the house. Or using RPGs on the walls.
Hermione pressed her lips together and pulled the RC helicopter out of her bag, then switched it on. "Luna, start the engine!" she yelled.
"Roger!"
Luna sounded far too perky for the middle of a firefight, in Ron's opinion. But the toy's rotor blades started to turn.
"Check. Stop again!" Hermione snapped. "Moving it to the window facing you!"
"Roger!"
That would let Luna pilot it, in theory. Now all that was left was to board it. Which meant they needed to shrink - something that felt quite a bit more daunting now than when they had made plans.
But Hermione was already kneeling next to Berisha, checking the man's bonds, before holding a vial to his lips.
The warlord wasn't cooperating, snarling and spitting at her despite his wounds. Ron moved over and held him, then pinched the man's nose closed until he opened his mouth and Hermione could pour the potion in and then force him to swallow.
He gasped for air once Ron released him, then shuddered.
And then Berisha shrunk rapidly until he was about two inches high. And, judging by his reaction, was shocked by the experience. Ron didn't mind - that made it easier to transport him. He grabbed the man and put him into the toy helicopter, securing him with some string.
"Hurry!" Harry yelled. "They're about to rush us! Sirius! Suppress them!"
"The German piece of shit overheated," his godfather announced.
Ron was about to move to the front windows to help Harry - the only reason the villagers hadn't rushed them yet was the fact that the first rank would die - but Hermione pushed a vial into his hand. "Drink!" she yelled, then turned away. "Harry! Come on!"
Ron took a deep breath and swallowed the potion. It tasted as vile as he had expected, but only for a moment - then his body shuddered, and, suddenly, the furniture started to grow. No, he was shrinking.
Moments later, the toy helicopter looked the same size as a real one to him - no, a little larger, actually. He rushed to it and climbed inside, checking on Berisha. The man was unconscious but didn't seem to be dying. And the smooth compartment they had prepared was actually rough for someone his current size. Very rough.
"Harry! Come on!" he heard Hermione yell again, as loud as an air raid siren or a plane starting up - the entire helicopter shook.
He saw the giant form of Hermione move closer to the chopper, then another giant rolled over the floor. Harry. What were they doing? Time was running out!
"Luna! Take off in fifteen seconds!" Hermione yelled, then she started to shrink, followed by Harry, and both ran towards the helicopter.
Ron was counting the seconds in his head, but both reached the toy with time to spare. He pulled Hermione inside, then Harry jumped in.
Five more seconds. Four. Three.
The door broke, wooden splinters the - relative - size of cars flying through the air, one narrowly missing the helicopter.
Two. One.
The helicopter took off just as a giant man rushed into the room, dropping prone and firing at the hallway. He noticed the chopper, but by the time he had swung his rifle round, they had already flown out of the window.
Then the helicopter started to veer back and forth, flying erratically. Ron barely managed to keep a grip on both Hermione and the support strut in the centre of the fuselage, and Berisha would have been thrown out if he hadn't been tied down.
"Luna!" Harry yelled over the engine noise - even though she couldn't hear them; the radio was back in Hermione's bag and couldn't be taken out now.
"She's flying evasively," Ron told him. Although she was flying very evasively.
"She's going to kill us if she keeps this up!" Harry retorted.
Hermione, meanwhile, was busy holding on to him and the strut for dear life.
He craned his neck and managed to look outside the cockpit. They had already cleared the village. He couldn't see if anyone was shooting at them, but Sirius was firing again - he could see the muzzle flash when the chopper turned in the direction of the car - and that should keep the villagers' heads down.
The helicopter landed behind the car, but the landing gear had barely touched the ground before they were picked up and carried into the Land Rover.
"I've got them!" Luna yelled - far too loud for two-inch-tall people.
"Floor it!" Sirius replied.
Then things got bumpy again. Ginny was driving.
"How long does the potion's effect last again?" Ron asked, ten minutes later. The Land Rover was still going about as fast as it could down the unpaved road. As far as Ron could tell, at least - he couldn't see out of the windows, not with the helicopter being held on Luna's lap.
"The dose I handed out won't last longer than an hour," Hermione replied. "I told you that already."
She had. But being two inches tall while surrounded by normal-sized people in a speeding car - driven by his little sister! - was unnerving. Even inside the helicopter, he didn't feel safe. One wrong move, one slip, and Luna's giant body could accidentally crush them all.
"How did the potion shrink our clothes and weapons, anyway?" he asked to distract himself. "We drank it; we didn't coat our weapons and clothes with it." Unlike the rifle-necklaces.
"That's how it works," she replied. "Like the animagus transformation encompasses your clothes and wand as well. Although Polyjuice Potion works differently."
"Ah." He nodded. Even though it didn't make sense.
"That's also the reason why we can't use the same method you used to return the rifles to their normal size," she explained. "That only works on items."
"Ah," he repeated himself. He wasn't very keen on breaking off parts of himself, anyway.
"We better get out of the helicopter now, though," Hermione went on. "If the potion's effect ends while we're still inside, the consequences won't be pretty."
Ron winced. He could imagine that. All too well. 'Bloody mess' wouldn't be adequate to describe the result of four people suddenly trying to fit inside a space smaller than a car's glove compartment.
"Even the bench won't be ideal, I think," she pointed out. "Best we let the potion's effect run out while we're outside."
"Tell that to Berisha's men," Harry said. "They won't give up the chase any time soon."
"We're outpacing them, though, aren't we?" she asked.
Ron winced again. Sirius hadn't had to fire the machine gun on the roof for some time, but the Albanians knew the terrain and wouldn't be driven off so easily. "Unless they're moving to cut us off. Or calling some allies ahead."
Hermione drew a hissing breath through clenched teeth in response to that. "How likely is that?"
"Hard to say," Ron replied. "Alliances can shift quickly among criminals."
"And people can be bought. If they offer enough money, even old feuds might be put on hold - especially if an outsider is the target," Harry added.
Hermione opened her mouth, but whatever she was about to say turned into a shriek when the entire car bounced and they were thrown around the helicopter's interior like rag dolls. Ron managed to keep his grip on the support strut, but Hermione lost hers and crashed into the wall.
She cried out in pain and Ron was at her side a moment later, despite the still rocking helicopter. "Are you hurt?"
"Just… bruises," she said, wincing.
"Ginny's driving recklessly," he replied.
"She has to," Harry cut in, "or we'll be caught."
"Caught or crashing… what's the difference?" Ron muttered. Loudly, he asked: "How's Berisha?"
"The straps held," Harry told him. "But he got banged up a little more."
Damn. "We need to leave the helicopter now," Ron said. "Get to the floor of the car." And hope that Luna didn't step on them.
"We'll need more space once the potion's effect ends," Hermione pointed out.
"That's half an hour away," Harry retorted. "We need to get out now."
"Alright." Ron moved to the door and leaned outside, waving and yelling. "Luna! Luna!"
He had to repeat himself twice before she noticed him, then had to quickly withdraw inside the helicopter when she bent down, and her long hair fell on the toy with enough force to shake it again.
"Sorry!" she boomed as she parted her hair. "I can't hear you. Climb on my hand!"
Ron flinched, but they had no choice. He climbed out and on to the giant palm outside the door. When the fingers - each of them as thick as his torso - closed around him, then lifted him up, he tensed and held his breath until he was almost pushed into Luna's ear.
"We need to get out of the helicopter! It's too dangerous inside!" he yelled.
"Oh no! I should've realised!" Her reply made his ears ring. "Ginny! Slow down! They're being thrown around in there."
One more, he was moved around, then deposited on the bench, next to Luna. The helicopter followed, and Ron almost lost his balance when Luna shifted on the bench, searching through her bag. "I've got it!" she announced, then pulled out a giant cushion.
"Good thinking, Luna!" Ron heard Hermione yell - though he doubted Luna heard her as she bent down and put the cushion on the floor.
He had to once more endure being picked up by a giant hand before he was gently put down on the cushion, quickly followed by the others.
Then he heard Luna yell: "They're safe now, Ginny! Step on it!"
Ron was thrown back when the Land Rover seemed to jump forward and spent the next fifteen minutes sliding around on the cushion. Fortunately, the cushion was so large, it also covered part of the walls. Even so, all of them picked up a few more bruises as Ron's sister put the Land Rover through its paces.
Then Sirius suddenly yelled: "Trouble ahead!" and started firing the machine gun. And their ride got really bumpy.
He heard Ginny curse as the Land Rover took a sharp turn and went off-road, then everyone cursed when the car jumped before crashing down on the ground with enough force to throw Luna out of her seat. She narrowly avoided crushing any of them, but her hand punched into the cushion, dislodging it just as Ginny took another tight turn, and Harry, Hermione, Ron and Berisha slid off the pillow and on to the floor. Right between Luna's various limbs.
And Luna was moving, so Ron had to jump to the side to avoid her hand as it grasped for purchase on the floor to push herself up.
"Luna! Watch out!" he yelled - not that she had a chance of hearing him, not with Sirius still firing the machine gun; Harry's godfather had somehow managed not to get thrown off and was still standing behind the gun. Probably - Ron couldn't see anything but Luna's shirt above him.
He looked around for the rest of them and spotted Harry in a corner, holding on to Berisha. But where was Hermione? She had been right next to him when…
The car lurched again, and he heard a booming squeal from Luna as he lost his balance and slid over the floor once more, bumping into Luna's boot. Which was moving. He jumped up, grabbing one of the laces with both hands, to escape getting squished between the heel and the car seat. Unfortunately, Luna then finally managed to regain her balance and sat up again, propping her boot against the back of the bench in front of her, and the movement jerked him around before he slammed into the boot with enough force to rattle his teeth.
He managed to keep his grip on the laces despite the pain, then let go and gripped the boot's surface when the next turn of the car ended with him on top of it. The window closest to him was a mess of spider-cracks - someone was shooting at them. And had hit them. The bulletproof glass had held, but it wouldn't last forever.
Where was Hermione? She couldn't have been accidentally crushed! But he couldn't see her.
"Hermione?" he yelled, but he could barely hear himself with all the noise.
He finally spotted her two wild turns later. She was still - or again - on the cushion, holding on to its edge. But she wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer, not with the way the entire cushion moved around every time the car swerved.
And Ron was stuck on Luna's boot, far above the floor. If he jumped - or fell - he'd break bones. Or worse. But he had to do something! The toy helicopter was on the floor as well, sliding back and forth, and it would crush Hermione if she got caught underneath it.
Then the cushion slid across the floor as well, and he held his breath. If he timed it right… He jumped off the boot and, for a horribly long second, he thought he had miscalculated, then he smashed into the cushion, right at the corner.
The impact knocked the breath out of him, but, somehow, he held on. "Hermione!"
She turned her head - had she heard him? Over the infernal racket of the gunshots and wild driving? - and he saw her gasp.
Gritting his teeth, he held on as the cushion slid back, then quickly scrambled towards her. Just before he reached her, the car hit something again, and he lost his balance, sliding the rest of the way and bumping into her.
"Ron!"
This time, he heard her. "Are you OK?" he yelled back.
"Yes!"
She didn't sound hurt. "We'll have to…"
He cut himself off when the floor beneath them shifted - tilted. Ginny was driving up a slope. A very steep slope. So steep, the cushion started to slide back, under the back bench. Into the boot.
"We need to jump!" he yelled.
But before Hermione got up the nerve to do so, they hit the back door.
Then something with a large calibre hit the back door from the other side, and it swung open.
And the cushion slid out of the car.
Ron heard Hermione scream as they fell, still clinging to the cushion. If it flipped… But it didn't. They hit the ground on top of the pillow, which cushioned the impact and saved their lives. It still hurt, of course.
And by the time Ron had recovered enough to move, the Land Rover had crested the slope and vanished from sight.
A roar made him look back - and he saw the two cars full of armed Albanians which were chasing the Land Rover race straight towards him and Hermione.
They were in the middle of the dirt road, which, at their current size, was the size of a football field. Too far to run in the time left. He pulled Hermione down and threw himself over her and hoped for the best.
The first car arrived and drove on, straight over them. The noise was deafening, but they were in the middle between the tires. Then the second car appeared, driving a little off-centre, and they were sprayed with mud and crushed plants as the car struggled on the slope.
But they hadn't been crushed flat into the mud. "We need to move!" Ron snapped as he got up. "Into cover." He helped Hermione up, ignoring her glare, then they rushed to the closest underbrush. At least at their current size, hiding would be easy. But the potion's effect wouldn't last all day. They had to find a hiding spot for two normal-sized humans. And fast.
The slope was covered in thick grass - where cars hadn't torn it up - and small trees with bushes growing between them. Neither would hide them once they were back to their normal size. "We need to reach a ravine. Or a cave."
"I didn't see either," Hermione replied as they ducked under a scraggly plant that he didn't recognise.
"We're bound to find one, as long as we keep going," he told her. But whether or not they'd be quick enough…
Judging by her expression, visible despite the mud on her face, she knew that as well as he did.
They hurried as best as they could, but, in the thick grass, what would have been a cross-country run was now more akin to a jungle expedition. The bushes and trees were actually the least of their worries. "You wouldn't happen to have a machete in your bag?" he asked, half-jokingly, when he had to push through yet another clump of dense grass.
"I do, actually, but if I pull it out it will return to its proper size," she replied, climbing over a branch the size of a log on the ground, "since it was inside the expanded space in my bag when we drank the potion, so it hasn't been shrunk."
"Crushed by a giant blade? I'll pass," he said.
They pushed on. After a particularly dense patch of grass, he checked his watch. "We've got about fifteen minutes left."
"It's not quite so precise," she told him. "Unlike Polyjuice Potion."
"We still should look for a hiding spot," he said.
"Yes."
She sounded tired, if not exhausted. And she looked the part as well, covered in drying mud. Just like Ron himself. He held out his hand to help her over a broken mushroom, but she ignored it - only to stumble and almost fall down.
A rest would be good, but with the potion's effects ending soon, they couldn't afford it. The two cars had disappeared over the ridge, chasing the others, but there would be others watching the area. If two people suddenly appeared in the middle of a slope over which their Land Rover had passed, they might take notice.
"Perhaps we should…" he froze and stared. "Bloody hell!" In front of him was a spider nest. A spider nest the size of a house. That meant there would also be a spider the size of a horse. Or worse.
He drew his pistol and wished he hadn't lost the rifle in the Land Rover.
"Dear Lord!" Hermione whispered.
He couldn't see any spiders. And he couldn't see a web either. "We need to leave. Now!" he hissed.
She didn't argue, just nodded, and they started to back off. He wet his lips as he looked around. There had to be a spider around here, didn't there? Didn't they protect their nests? He had never studied spiders - they were far too creepy.
He was panting. In this damned tall grass, a spider could be lurking right next to them, ready to ambush them… they had to retrace their steps. Unless it was hunting them.
Suddenly, he heard something. Steps. And something was moving over to the side - the grass was parting and… He fired the moment he saw the mandibles. His shots went through the chitin shell but didn't seem to affect the monster. Then one hit it in the eye, and the spider recoiled.
"Run!"
He pushed Hermione to run, then followed her, replacing his empty magazine with a fresh one. Not that it would do anything against the monster behind them. He glanced over his shoulder. Had the thing given up already?
No! There it was, crawling through the grass, catching up… "Run!" he yelled, shooting at it. Ineffectively. Damn. It would jump any moment… There!
He threw himself to the side as the monster pounced, narrowly dodging before it crashed on to the ground. He rolled, came up and emptied his magazine into the eyes facing him.
Once more, the thing recoiled - silent but for the sound of its legs striking the ground. "Run!" He chased after Hermione but… she was running up the slope. "Wrong direction!"
"Climb!" she yelled.
"What?"
"Climb!"
He climbed.
The slope was steep here. And the spider was the better climber. There it came!
"Behind me!" Hermione yelled, chest heaving as she stuck a hand into her beaded back.
His eyes widened, and he scrambled past her as she leaned forward, facing the spider. It was far too close.
She pulled her hand out, and a giant book appeared, dropping on the spider.
For a moment, they remained frozen, the only sound their heavy breathing, staring at the book below them. He blinked. Had the spider managed to evade the book? He couldn't see it. And there was no way to check underneath the book.
He felt her shiver in his arms. He didn't remember embracing her. But he held her as they slowly sat down. "That was close."
She nodded. "I forgot about animals." She turned her head to face him, smiling weakly. "Sorry. I should have expected this."
"How?" he asked.
She chuckled - once - and shook her head.
"Did you know there's a huge nest of Acromantula in the Forbidden Forest?"
"It's generally called a colony, not a nest, Ron," she corrected him before she realised what he had said. "What? They aren't native to Britain!"
"Yes. Hagrid started it. Apparently, the leader was one of his pets." Ron shivered.
"He told you?" Setting a creature like that free had to be illegal! They were sapient, but they were man-eaters!
"No. The monster told us. Aragog." Ron shook his head.
"You met them?" She hadn't meant to yell. But… Ron - and Harry - had faced a monster like that?
"Yes. Hagrid said to follow the spiders. So we did. And almost got eaten."
"What?" What had they gotten up to while she had been petrified? A Basilisk and Acromantula?
"We got away, but it was a near thing." He shook his head again, staring at the wall across from her bed. "So many spiders… huge things." He rubbed his arms. "We ran when they came."
She shivered herself just imagining it. Poor Ron. To face giant spiders when he was afraid of normal ones… She scooted over and hugged him. "You were very brave."
"Brave?" He scoffed. "I couldn't even cast a spell! I just ran!"
"Brave," she repeated herself. In his place, she would probably have been paralysed with fear.
He snorted but didn't contradict her.
Good.