Chapter 4
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter and the Harry Potter universe. I'm just playing with it.
"They're the same." He said.
"You mean it just looks like yours," she said. But you could hear the doubt in her voice.
"They're the same." He repeated. "The magic. It feels the same."
He fired a series of spells across the room, alternating with the wand in each hand. Accio's, transfigurations, lumos, nox, levitations. Each spell came as easily as if they were cast with the same wand. As if they were the same wand.
"Bloody Hell," he said again.
The woman looked at Harry with a gaze that demanded answers, though it now had a good dollop of doubt, anger and just a bit of fear. Harry wished that he could give her those answers, but Harry had none to give. He was just as clueless as her.
Her gaze drifted down onto his robes. Looking down, he saw with dismay that it was focused on a bulge underneath some of the coils of rope binding him. He nearly groaned in dismay. His map. And the cloak.
She leaped to his side, shifted the rope over and dug into the pocket, quickly drawing them out.
It was another "Bloody Hell," moment, this time coming from her.
The man took one look at the cloak and dived towards a cloak cabinet against the wall. He pulled out an auror's cloak and dug into it frantically, finally drawing out …
… drawing out another cloak.
Harry added his own "Bloody Hell."
Just to make it unanimous.
"This is getting really, really creepy," said the man.
At that point, Harry couldn't agree more.
The woman looked down at the folded parchment in her hand and opened it.
Somehow, Harry wasn't surprised when she pulled her own wand and started to speak a password phrase that he knew by heart. "I solemnly swear that …" Harry braced himself. "… I am up to no good."
Wait. What?
Suddenly, it felt like the runaway hippogriff he'd been tied to had made a hard 90 degree left turn.
That wasn't the password.