September 3, 1997 (Harry)
"...The search for fugitive Harry James Potter continues this week after he failed to appear at Hogwarts for his seventh term. The 17-year-old, wanted for questioning in the murder of former Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, was last seen in early August, at a wedding hosted at the residence of Arthur Weasley, an employee of the Ministry of Magic.
"When questioned about Potter's whereabouts, Mr. Weasley told us, 'We had no prior knowledge of Mr. Potter's crimes when the invitation was extended. We have cooperated fully with the Ministry's efforts to locate him, and we urge him to turn himself in at once.'
"Mr. Weasley's youngest son, Ronald Weasley, also spoke to reporters about his former classmate. 'I knew Harry Potter at Hogwarts,' he said when confronted at Platform 9 ¾ two days ago. 'He was always reckless and impulsive. I hope he sees reason and stops this madness before he hurts somebody else – or himself.'
"Ronald was among the hundreds of students returning to Hogwarts School this fall, which has implemented mandatory attendance for all magical children aged eleven to seventeen. According to newly-installed Headmaster Severus Snape, 'The era of fear and uncertainty is over. Hogwarts has improved its security to make sure deranged individuals like Mr. Potter are no longer allowed to roam the castle undeterred. Parents can rest assured that their children are safer now at the school than they have ever been.'
"The bounty for Harry Potter's capture and delivery to Ministry officials, dead or alive, has been raised to one hundred thousand Galleons. Citizens with knowledge of Mr. Potter's whereabouts are encouraged to—"
Harry threw his copy of the Daily Prophet onto the floor in disgust. "I can't believe even the Weasleys have turned against me," he spat, as Stara the house-elf collected the paper at his feet. "After all that talk of protecting me no matter what!"
"I'm sure they don't really mean all of that," Hermione offered diplomatically, who had already read through the morning paper herself. "They have to say that kind of thing to save face and protect the family. I'm sure they had a really hard time right after the wedding."
Harry sighed and rubbed his temple in frustration. His scar was prickling, as it had been doing for the past few weeks without reprieve. Voldemort was getting increasingly frustrated with something. Was it still Harry he was after, or something else? The Prophet was no doubt under Ministry control by this point, so their obsession with locating Harry probably reflected Voldemort's wishes as well.
"Any news here in Bulgaria, Viktor?" asked Harry, turning to Krum at the head of the table. He was reading the Bulgarian wizarding paper, brow furrowed in thought.
"They 'ave made very few statements about Britain so far," Krum muttered. "Our Minister claims to be neutral, so long as the var does not come to Bulgaria."
"But...but it did come to Bulgaria," Hermione said uncertainly, "didn't it? Death Eaters came and threatened you in your own home—"
"Which they deny," Krum shrugged. "I 'ave told my contacts in the Ministry about the incident, and they told me not to vorry. They vill not assist the Dark Lord if he continues to harass me."
"And do you believe that?" asked Harry.
"I do not know," Krum said frankly. "I think they are 'oping that they are not put in that position. But I vorry that they vill give in if threatened directly."
"But surely they would have no reason to help You-Know-Who," Hermione said nervously. "You aren't a suspect, right? I haven't seen your name anywhere in the Prophet, aside from a mention about attending the wedding."
"I 'ave received some interesting questions from my contacts recently," Krum admitted. "They are curious if I am involved somehow. I deny it, of course, but I vonder if the Dark Lord continues to 'ave eyes on me."
Harry and Hermione shared a concerned look at this. "Well, we'll just continue being careful then," said Harry. "I'm sure it's just nerves. If they thought we were here, they would have come by now."
"Yes, perhaps," Krum said noncommittally. He pushed back his chair to stand from the table. "Come, let us begin our training."
Krum had been putting Harry through a daily dueling regimen for the past several weeks. Harry fared well in the early sessions, but found himself increasingly outmatched by the older and more experienced Krum the more they fought and learned each other's fighting patterns. Harry always prided himself on his dueling ability, but found himself frustrated as Krum bested him again and again. He was just too quick; his spells coming a fraction of a second faster than Harry could erect his Shield Charm.
"How are you so quick?" Harry panted after getting revived from yet another Stunning Spell to the face.
"Durmstrang had a very popular Dueling Club," Krum shrugged. "Karkaroff favored the students that von the most matches, so it was very competitive. I vas not even the strongest dueler in the school."
That's encouraging, Harry thought bitterly to himself. If he was no match for a second-rate Durmstrang student, surely he would be able to take on the most powerful Dark wizard alive. And even if he could match Krum's talent level, he would still be far behind the curve.
"This isn't getting me anywhere," Harry muttered after yet another exhausting session with no successful hits on Krum. "I don't feel like I'm learning anything."
"Because you are still holding onto Dumbledore's teachings," Krum chastised him. "Your spells are not powerful enough to cause me trouble."
"You just block everything I cast anyway," Harry sighed.
"Dark spells cannot be blocked so easily," Krum retorted. "I vill need to use more energy to counter it with Dark magic of my own."
"I only know a handful of Dark spells," said Harry. "And I'm not casting an Unforgivable or Sectumsempra against you."
"Try the Bone-Breaker Curse to start," Krum offered. "Just do not aim for my head."
"Are you mad?!" Harry laughed. "You would willingly let me break your bones?"
"I 'ave broken hundreds of bones playing Quidditch," Krum shrugged. "And Stara can mend them for me at once. It is no problem."
Harry shook his head, incredulous. He had to admire Krum's dedication to Harry's training, even sacrificing his own body in the pursuit of Voldemort's demise. It emboldened him to keep trying, to not let such a sacrifice be in vain.
They resumed their duel, with Harry mixing in the Bone-Breaker Curse with his usual barrage of spells. He could feel the heat of the nasty curse coming off of his wand, the raw power careening towards Krum, who was forced to divert more attention towards the sickening spell. It was a frightening – and thrilling – addition to his arsenal. Harry managed to distract Krum with a combination of Stunners and Body-Binds to the upper body before landing a Bone-Breaker to his right leg.
Krum yelped in pain and collapsed to the ground. Harry immediately felt guilty and rushed forward to help, but before he reached the man Stara had appeared to do her work. Seconds later, with a loud crack, the bone had reset itself, and Krum was getting back to his feet.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked, concerned.
"Go again," Krum grunted, waving him off. "You vill not get lucky like that against me again."
They ended the session a few duels later, during which time Harry managed to best Krum in roughly half their bouts. The Dark magic of the Bone-Breaker had indeed given him more offensive firepower to contend with Krum's speed and agility. "It is an improvement," Krum acknowledged as they retired to the kitchen for drinks. "You are a powerful wizard, Harry. You just need time to grow."
"I'm still not nearly as fast as you," said Harry.
"That vill come with time," Krum replied. "Of course, if you do not 'ave the time, there are ways to...cheat."
"Cheat?" Harry repeated, intrigued.
"There are ways to permanently improve your body and mind," said Krum. "Potions and blood rituals. They are risky, and may 'ave side effects, but you vill improve quickly."
Harry considered this. He would confer with Hermione on the matter; she had encountered many books on blood rituals in the secret library but hadn't gotten around to them yet. In fact, at that very moment she was in said library, rigorously going through Karkaroff's collection in search of useful tips and techniques for Harry's development. She usually disappeared into these books from early morning until deep into the afternoon, by which time Harry and Krum had usually tired themselves out with training and Quidditch out on the miniature pitch.
But when Harry went to find Hermione in the library after lunch, she was not studying one of the heavy tomes from the shelves. Instead, she was flipping through a small picture-book with a worn leather cover. "Whatcha got there, 'Mione?" asked Harry.
"The book Dumbledore gave me," Hermione responded. "I'm looking for clues."
"Don't bother," Harry groaned. "He had nothing useful to leave me with. Otherwise he would have given me more than just a stupid Snitch."
"Dumbledore left you a Snitch?" asked Krum curiously.
"Yeah," Harry muttered. "Bloody worthless memento if you ask me."
"You are aware," Krum said, looking serious now, "that Snitches are often used to smuggle small items? There vas a scandal in the European Quidditch League last year because referees vere using them to transport contraband across borders."
That got Harry's attention. "And you think Dumbledore might have done the same?" he asked.
"Worth looking into," Krum shrugged.
Minutes later, Harry had retrieved the Snitch from his room, and he, Hermione and Krum were examining it in the drawing room. Krum had his wand out, muttering diagnostic spells as he held the Snitch between his thumb and forefinger. "It 'as several protective enchantments upon it," he announced. "I suspect it is meant to be voice activated."
"How?" asked Harry. "He didn't give us any kind of code to say…"
"It is no matter," Krum shrugged. "Dark magic should be able to break through the protections." He tossed the Snitch into the air and immobilized it with a Freezing Charm. Harry and Hermione backed away as Krum took aim, firing several crackling bolts of energy at the Snitch. The first few bolts ricocheted harmlessly off the glowing shell, but one finally connected, causing the Snitch to crack down the middle and break neatly in half, both halves clattering to the ground.
Harry leaned down to pick up the small object that had fallen out of the Snitch. It was a small golden ring, inset with a pitch-black stone. "I've seen this before," Harry muttered. "Dumbledore was wearing it all last year. But why would he need to smuggle it to me?"
Hermione gently took the ring from Harry and examined it. Then, she gasped. "I recognize this symbol!" she said. "Wait here." She handed the ring back and rushed from the room. Harry and Krum looked closer at the black stone on the ring, which was carved with a small symbol: a circle inscribed within a triangle, with a vertical line running through it.
"That is the mark of Grindelwald," Krum growled. "Vhy does Dumbledore possess this?"
Hermione rushed back into the room with the picture book she'd been reading earlier. "Look," she said, flipping it open to a chapter titled The Tale of the Three Brothers. "The same symbol is scribbled in the margins here. I didn't know what it was until now."
"What does it mean?" Harry wondered. "Clearly he wanted us to look into the symbol."
"That is magic that even Karkaroff considered too Dark," Krum warned. "The sign vas considered worse than a swastika at Durmstrang. Whatever it is, I vould not mess with it."
Harry slipped the ring onto his finger, examining how it looked resting there. He half-expected something to happen, for some great revelation to hit him by putting it on, but he felt nothing. Still, he liked the light-weight feel and the sight of the dark stone against his skin. "Keep looking into it, Hermione," he said. "It has to mean something."
Harry did not sleep well that night. His mind was still preoccupied with the mysterious ring, and the symbol that Krum said was associated with Grindelwald. Why would Dumbledore have given him something with such a Dark association? Of course, such questions were not the only thing keeping him up; his scar continued to prickle uncomfortably. Voldemort remained consumed with something; Harry sensed his frustration, his simmering rage. All he could do was hold Hermione tightly and practice his Occlumency to block the intrusions as best he could.
He and Hermione had not discussed their new sleeping arrangement since it began. Neither of them acknowledged it during the day, nor did they exchange words while wrapped in each other's arms under the covers. Harry preferred it this way; he didn't know where his true feelings lay with Hermione, and didn't want to be the one to ask and make things awkward. He took comfort in her presence, and she must feel the same. That was enough for him.
Hermione remained preoccupied with her studies in the library, to the point that most meals saw her at the kitchen table with half a dozen books littered around her. "Once you get past the Dark nature of the magic involved, it really is quite simple," she remarked one evening while perusing Blood Rituals for the Bold over dinner. "It's like a mixture of Ancient Runes and Potions. It seems that both disciplines are rooted in similar fundamental properties of magic."
"I performed a handful of blood rituals myself, prior to the Triwizard Tournament," Krum remarked. "They vere not as unpleasant as I expected."
"Really?" asked Harry, intrigued. "What did they do?"
"Small improvements here and there," Krum shrugged. "Twenty-twenty vision, heightened smell, that kind of thing. Just don't tell my Quidditch league officials; they are technically banned for players."
Harry chuckled at this. "But there are more complex ones, yes?" he said. "That give you even stronger benefits?"
"Oh yes, there are many recipes for all sorts of effects," Hermione said, looking troubled. "Become an Animagus of your choice, earn immunity from poisons, gain the ability to regrow lost limbs...but the consequences are severe if you get even the smallest thing wrong."
Harry considered this. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?" he grinned. That was obviously the last thing Hermione wanted to hear.
"Oh, Harry, you can't go messing about with blood rituals!" Hermione huffed. "I mean, some of the small ones perhaps, but these can permanently damage not just your body, but your soul."
"You-Know-Who tore his soul into seven pieces, and he's the strongest wizard alive," Harry shrugged. "I figure I can beat mine up a little if it means saving the world."
Hermione turned to Krum for help. "Surely you can't agree with this," she implored him. "Tell him it's not worth the risk."
Krum merely shrugged impassively. "That is every man's decision for himself," he said. "If he vishes to valk The Path, he must decide to do so alone."
"The Path?" Harry repeated. "What's that?"
"Karkaroff spoke of it vaguely," said Krum. "There are certain rites many Dark wizards 'ave gone through to test their strength and villpower. A series of tests, designed to cull the veak and allow the strong to reach their full potential."
Harry couldn't believe his ears. How had they gone this long without Krum mentioning this "Path" once? It sounded like exactly what he needed to go through to reach the next level of his training. "Where is this Path?" he demanded. "Where do I need to go?"
"I do not know," Krum admitted. "Karkaroff once told me that one must seek out the Pool of Knowledge to find the way. But I do not know of such a pool."
Harry looked to Hermione. "Ever heard of it?" he asked.
"I haven't," Hermione frowned. "Is it a physical pool, or a metaphorical one perhaps?"
"I have no earthly idea," said Krum. "But know this, Harry Potter. Karkaroff spoke also of the dangers of The Path. He knew of several other wizards who attempted it, but they did not make it."
"They died?" Harry asked.
"Worse," said Krum. "They lost their minds. They live on to this day, broken shells of men, lost to the madness of vot they found. If you intend to valk The Path, beware of vot you may find at your destination."
Silence settled over the table at this morbid warning. Harry certainly didn't like the sound of whatever fate befell these men, but he also wasn't sure what other choice he had. Had Voldemort walked this Path before him? Had Grindelwald perhaps done the same, or even Dumbledore? Harry twirled the black stone ring on his finger, over and over, deep in thought. Was this what Dumbledore intended for him after all? Was the symbol meant to push him down The Path to fulfill his destiny?
"My dear boy."
Harry looked up at the vaguely familiar voice, and nearly fell out of his seat at what he saw. Albus Dumbledore was standing across the table from him, casting a judgmental eye upon him. "This is not the path that I intended for you," Dumbledore said, a disappointed tone in his voice. "I meant for you to destroy the Horcruxes and face Tom with your soul intact. It is the only way."
Harry shakily stood from the table, staring at his old Headmaster. He appeared more corporeal than a ghost, but only just – his body appeared solid and whole, but he had a vague distance about him, like he was truly far, far away from here despite his physical proximity. "Wh-what is this?" he demanded.
"Harry...what are you talking about?" Hermione asked, looking alarmed. Krum also looked perturbed by Harry's sudden outburst.
"You...you can't see him?" Harry demanded, pointing directly at Dumbledore.
"No, Harry they cannot," Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Only you can see and hear me, for it is you who summoned me."
Summoned? Harry wondered. He looked down at the black stone he had been spinning around his finger a moment ago. The symbol engraved at its center was glowing white. Was it responsible for this apparition? "Tell me what to do, then," Harry demanded. "And don't be cryptic now. What am I supposed to do?"
"Die," Dumbledore said with a sad smile. "You must walk willingly into Voldemort's arms. It is the only way to defeat him."
Harry laughed hollowly. "You expect me to believe that?" he said. "Is this another one of your mind games, old man? I've had enough of them."
"Dead men tell no lies," Dumbledore said with another smile. "I have no reason to lie to you, Harry. My only job now is to summon you home, to where you belong. Your parents are here, my boy. And Sirius. They love you dearly, and they miss you—"
"SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed; he picked up his dinner plate and hurled it at Dumbledore. But the apparition vanished as quickly as it appeared, and his plate shattered against the opposite wall, leaving Harry to glare at nothing.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped. "What's gotten into you?"
Harry was so agitated that he hadn't noticed his scar beginning to burn. Suddenly, before he could explain himself, it burst open in blinding pain. Harry yelped and collapsed to the floor, slipping unwillingly into the Dark Lord's mind:
"I will not ask again, boy!" Voldemort screamed. "Tell me the truth! Crucio!"
The boy screamed and writhed in pain on the floor, crashing into chair and table legs of the empty Hogwarts classroom. Severus Snape watched on impassively, standing guard at the door.
"I d-don't know!" the boy wailed. "They didn't tell me—"
"You were their closest friend; do not deny it!" Voldemort snarled. "Your classmate Draco Malfoy told me so. Now surrender their whereabouts, or die!"
He slashed his wand again, and Ron Weasley screamed even louder from the pain. He could not withstand this much longer. The might and fury of the Dark Lord would either break his will or his sanity; it was merely a question of which broke first.
"Please, stop!" Ron cried. "I'll do anything!"
"Anything?" Voldemort sneered. "You can end this right now, Mr. Weasley. Just tell the Dark Lord what you know. Or perhaps I shall have Severus go and fetch your younger sister...we'll see how much pain she can take—"
"NO!" Ron cried. His whole body was trembling, but he managed to sit up and face Voldemort directly. "They—they left with Krum," he said, utterly defeated. "Viktor Krum. I don't know where they went, but he'll know. Find him."
Voldemort considered the feeble boy swaying slightly before him. "I can see that you are not lying, Ronald Weasley," he said. "The Dark Lord rewards those who help him. Your family will be spared."
Ron collapsed to the ground unconscious, whether from pain, defeat or relief or a mixture of all three. Voldemort turned to the door, where Snape raised an eyebrow at him.
"Come, Severus," Voldemort said softly. "Round up the others. We have urgent business in Bulgaria…"
"HARRY!"
Harry jerked upright; both Hermione and Krum were hunched over him, looking concerned. "Vot has happened?" asked Krum.
"We—we have to go," Harry stammered, struggling to his feet.
"What?" Hermione said nervously. "I thought we agreed it was safest here—"
"Not anymore," Harry said, panic starting to rise in his chest. "We've been compromised. He's coming."
"Harry, you're not making sense," Hermione frowned. "Who's coming?"
"VOLDEMORT!" Harry shouted in her face, making both her and Krum jump. "He knows we're here, and he's coming directly to us! We have to leave, NOW!"
Already Harry could hear faint pops of Apparition in the distance, as Death Eaters arrived at the perimeter of the property. He didn't know if Voldemort would be among the first wave trying to break through the protective enchantments. But as soon as he arrived, it would only be a matter of time…
Krum rushed to a nearby window to peer out onto the grounds. "He's right; there are intruders," he said. "We must evacuate."
Hermione remained rooted to the spot, frozen in fear. "B-b-but how could they have…?" she said meekly.
"There's no time, Hermione," Harry said, shaking her shoulders lightly to jar her from her stupor. "We need to gather the essentials and go. Viktor, do you have an escape route?"
"Yes," said Krum. "We vill use the emergency Portkeys. Meet me in the kitchen in five minutes. The wards should hold that long."
Harry took Hermione's hand and ran from the study, headed for their bedroom. He wouldn't have time to gather all of the various clothes and books he'd strewn about the house over the past month. He needed his Cloak, Hermione's enchanted handbag, and whatever else they could scoop up in the next thirty seconds or so. Distant echoing bangs told him the assault on the wards had begun.
"Quickly now, Hermione," Harry said when they reached the bedroom; he leapt to the floor beside the bed and began grabbing everything within reach. Hermione finally seemed to come to her senses, because she too began hastily gathering loose garments and supplies.
"Leave the books, Hermione!" Harry pleaded as he turned to see her attempting to force heavy tomes into her handbag. "We don't have the time for non-essentials!"
"These are essential!" she protested. Harry groaned and rushed over to help her cram the thick books into the magically-enlarged space. Once they had done so, he took her hand once more and sprinted towards the kitchen, leaping down the steps four at a time.
Krum was waiting for them by the kitchen table, an old hairbrush placed in the center. "Ready?" he said. "We vill touch it on the count of three." They all hovered one hand over the Portkey, hearts thumping wildly with fear. "One...two...three!"
Harry, Hermione and Krum grabbed the hairbrush, and Harry immediately felt the jerking sensation behind his navel. But something wasn't right. They remained firmly rooted in place, the Portkey vibrating furiously under their palms. "What's happening?" Hermione whimpered.
Krum swore loudly in Bulgarian. "Portkey travel 'as been deactivated," he said, abandoning the hairbrush and rushing back to the window. "That means the Bulgarian Ministry is involved. They must 'ave been cooperating vith them all along."
"So what do we do?" Harry demanded. "We're surrounded!"
Before Krum could answer, Harry's scar burst open again, and he found himself standing on a hillside overlooking Krum Estate.
"My Lord," said Yaxley, approaching with his head bowed low. "The Bulgarians have trapped them within the house, but we cannot breach the wards. They are a Gringotts creation."
Voldemort chuckled softly. Did Potter believe he could hide from the Dark Lord behind wards created by inferior beings like goblins? "I will handle the wards, Yaxley," he said. "Prepare to attack." Yaxley nodded and slinked away as Voldemort drew his wand.
A burst of Dark energy erupted from the holly wand, crashing into the wards around the property, illuminating it like a great golden shell. The wards crackled and flared under the force of the spell, though they continued to hold – a testament to their strong design. But they were no match for a Dark Lord of Voldemort's caliber. He channeled every ounce of his hate and frustration, his rage at the boy who had eluded him for so long, into the waves of Dark magic rippling from his wand.
The great golden shell began to emit a low screeching sound, as though verbalizing its displeasure. Then, it began to crack and splinter; the golden threads of magic woven together began to unravel. Then, it burst in a brilliant explosion of millions of beams of light, raining down upon the grounds as the Death Eaters charged—
"The wards are down!" Harry yelped in fear. "They're coming!"
Krum waved his wand and yelled, "Dominus protegus!" They heard a great grinding sound in the distance; moments later, Harry heard yelps of surprise as the Death Eaters charging up the lawns were met with some unpleasant surprise. "That vill buy us some time," Krum said. "Come, to the secret exit."
Krum led the way into the storage room beside the kitchen, tapping a shelf to reveal a hidden passageway. He ushered Harry and Hermione inside before sealing it behind them. It was pitch-black and Harry had no idea what lay ahead, but he knew that Voldemort lay behind him so he hurried on, clutching Hermione's hand tightly in his. His scar continued to burn painfully, but he fought against it, forcing Voldemort out of his mind, focused on his escape—
They stumbled out of the dark passage into a cold and drafty room. Krum twirled his wand to provide them some light; they had emerged in the broom cupboard next to the Quidditch pitch. "We must fly," he said, rushing to grab three Firebolts from the rack. "I vill go first and distract them. Then you two head for the boundary until you can Disapparate."
"Won't they attack you?!" Hermione moaned in fear.
"Don't worry," Krum said with a reassuring wink. "It is my job. I velcome them to try."
Krum mounted his broom and aimed his wand at the closed door to the grounds. "Harry, take me with you," Hermione whispered in Harry's ear; Harry pulled her onto his broomstick and wrapped her arms around his torso as he too prepared for their mad dash to freedom.
"Now!" Krum bellowed; with a bang, the doors flew open and he shot out like a cannon onto the grounds. At once there were shouts of surprise and jets of light fired after him into the sky; Krum neatly dodged and weaved through them, circling to the other side of the grounds to draw their attention away.
"Here we go!" Harry said, kicking off hard; the two of them shot out of the shed and into the frigid evening cold. They were not spotted immediately; Harry had time to scan the grounds to get his bearings. A dozen or so Death Eaters were scattered across the property, half trying to curse Krum, the other half struggling with what looked like stone soldiers charging at them. Harry realized that the many statues and sculptures littering the grounds had come to life and were defending the house from the intruders.
A spell whizzed by Harry's ear, and he flatted himself against the handle, aiming for the dark woods to the east of the estate. Several more spells came in their direction, but they were too fast, too far away to be caught. They might get out of this yet…
"You cannot escape me, Harry Potter."
The voice came from inside and all around him; Harry's insides froze at the cold, chilling voice. Voldemort was right beside him, flying alongside the Firebolt, sneering at the two of them. "It is futile. Surrender yourself to me, or the girl dies too."
Harry struggled to reach his wand, but Hermione's iron grasp around his waist prevented him from drawing it. They were doomed. Voldemort raised his own wand, aiming at the two of them suspended in air—
BOOM. There was a colossal explosion as Krum Manor exploded with such force that even Voldemort was knocked off-balance. Krum must have had additional tricks up his sleeve in case of an attack. Harry willed his Firebolt to go faster; any moment now Voldemort would regain his composure, and it would be the end—
Then, Harry felt as though he passed through an invisible waterfall. If that wasn't the Anti-Disapparation ward, he didn't know what was. There was no time to question it. He grabbed Hermione from behind and launched both of them sideways off the broom as Voldemort's Killing Curse barely missed him. Harry heard only Hermione's screams and the whistling of the oncoming trees before he twisted in midair and Disapparated, leaving Voldemort's scream of rage many miles behind him.
