Chapter 28 : The Fall of Harry Potter- Pt II
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 38|
Background: Font color:
The rain was pouring heavily over the channel. The stinging raindrops attacked Hermione’s face as she held on for dear life on Sansa Ferri’s back. The Bird God flew at full pace to Durmstrang Institute over the clouds, her magical wings cutting through the air in powerful, yet graceful movements. A mixture of fear and grim determination was etched on Ron and her face as they both knew what lay ahead of them.
Having gone through so much in the early years at school with the menace of He-who-must-not-be-named looming over their lives, it would have been rational to assume that his defeat would embody their passage into becoming a fully-fledged wizard. Harry Potter, with their help, had done the impossible and defeated the Dark Lord, not once, but twice since their sixth year. He was a hero. One young man with nothing to lose, and everything to gain, had become their champion for the light.
Tears began to run down Hermione’s face as reality reared its ugly head. As much as she would try to deny it, the obstacle at the end of their seventh year would not be the so-called dark lord, neither some obscure treat. As if in a cruel mockery of fate, their best friend had become their enemy, and the task they had to overcome at the end of their seventh year would be extremely difficult.
Solidus Gryffindor must be stopped, before Harry self-destructs and destroy all that they, alongside with the Order of the Phoenix, had fought for.
“Hermione, we can do this, for his sake, for everyone’s. We have to,” Ron said solemnly, his face buried in Sansa’s feathers. The wind roared in her ears, but Hermione could hear him clearly because her thoughts uncannily mirrored his.
Harry Potter was struck dumb, his jaw dropping as the appearance of Gryffindor’s Lion and his undead father robbing him of all conscious thought. Suddenly he felt weak, drained of all his magic. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
“What’s the matter Potter? Scared? Ralphie always thought you were a bit over-rated…” Frank Longbottom chuckled, his gaunt face a direct contrast to the eerie glow in his eyes. Almost two decades of crippling mental damage did not sit well with him, and it showed in the hollowness of his cheeks. “But he saved me, you see...saved me from that hell. I’m fine now. Now I owe him my life, and I will do whatever necessary to vanquish his enemies.”
Frank grinned, and his yellowed teeth bared at Harry in an unnatural smile. “I’ll let the Lion finish this off quickly, isn’t that so, Leo?”
The huge lion had stopped it’s pacing, it’s massive tail sending blazing cinders to alight on the burning fields. As if not interested in the least to Longbottom’s ramblings, he sat down regally on his hunches, his back straight, his massive chest and mane proudly on display. He stared hard at both of the Potter wizards.
Frank Longbottom froze, not believing what he was hearing.
“What? What do you mean- ‘no’?” he turned, facing the huge mythical creature. As if ordering his obedient servant, he pointed in Harry’s direction. “What are you on about? Kill him!”
“DO NOT PRESUME TO DICTATE TO ME, HUMAN. I DO NOT OWE YOU ANYTHING.”
“I summoned you to this battle! You must obey!” Frank shouted, his patience growing thin.
“YOU HAVE THE BLOOD TO CALL UPON ME, HOWEVER I HAVE NEVER SWORRN LOYALTY TO YOU, NEITHER DO I WISH TO OBEY YOUR COMMAND. YOU ARE UNDER A CURSE, I SENSE IT IN YOUR MAGIC.”
“What?” Frank said, bewildered. “You can’t do that! I’m not under any curse!”
“FROM HERE ON, I DICTATE WHAT CAN AND CANNOT TRANSPIRE HERE. THE ORIGINAL HEIR OF GRYFFINDORRE LIVES WITHIN HIM, AND I WILL NOT TURN AGAINST THE FIRST SON OF GRYFFINDORRE.”
The huge lion took to its feet and walked calmly into the center of the battlefield. He scanned the Auror army, his great eyes marking each and everyone in turn.
“ LONGBOTTOM, I WILL PROPOSE AN ALTERNATIVE. I WISH TO SEE A GRAND FIGHT- A DUEL TO THE DEATH, IF YOU WISH. IF THE INFERI WINS, I WILL DEFEAT ALL OF HIS ENEMIES. IF YOUNG MASTER SOLIDUS HERE WINS, I WILL UNITE WITH THE FIRST SON OF GODRIC GRYFFINDOR, AND BE UNDER HIS COMMAND.”
At that moment, one of the Aurors fainted. Frank Longbottom swore loudly in denial.
“NO! I won’t tolerate this! Rodulphus wants him dead! I order-“
There was a negligent swoosh of the Lion’s tail and Frank Longbottom was no more, crushed under the tuft of burning fur at the end. The Lion of Gryffindor did not even glance in his direction.
“INSOLENT FOOL. LET THIS BE A WARNING! NO ONE IS TO INTERFERE!”
James Potter turned towards Longbottom’s crushed remains. He shook his head in mild amusement. “Stupid, stupid boy. Always had to be rattling off when he couldn’t back it up." He shrugged, then turned to face his young opponent. " Well, junior? Let’s see what you’re made of!” James cheeked, the corner for his mouth turning up in an exaggerated smirk. He pointed his wand almost flippallty.
“Ingreasium carpulus!” he incanted, and Harry froze, a sensation of being doused in a slippery fluid cascading over him. Harry was snapped out of his amazement, and began to move, only to suddenly collapse in the bloody soil.
“You’re a combat type magi, I see. These fools, trying direct curses on a Paladin class wizard,” James said easily, striding forward. “Easier to just limit your maneuverability, isn’t it?” he chuckled as Harry tried to prop himself up again and again, only to slip and fall under his own weight as neither his hands nor legs could maintain a grip on the soft grass. “Simple. I thought you were supposed to be good? I’m a mere animagus, but I could have taken you in my sleep-”
James grinned, and began to trot the short distance between him and his son. Picking up speed, he waved his wand and the space of a few strides had transformed into his Stag form. Harry froze, literally a deer caught in a deer’s headlights. The powerful animal charged and Harry felt his collarbone and a couple ribs break as the antlers rammed into him, one of them puncturing his chest with a shallow, blunt wound. He screamed in pain as he flew a few feet into the air, landing hard and rolling a few times in the muck. His vision tumbled over and over, a haze of pain searing through him as he heard the powerful hooves pounding in the ground, coming closer and closer with each thundering sound.
He got his arms up just in time as the next charge came in, and he could feel his forearm snap as his father charged him again, the antlers puncturing his left shoulder and bicep as he protected his face. Harry Potter screamed as he was hoisted into the air, momentarily impaled through his left arm. With a desperate shove against the Stag’s head with his right arm, he unhooked his crippled limb from the edge of the blunt-tipped antlers. Falling to the ground with a sickening thud, he screamed out as the pain from his shattered arm intensified.
His father reverted back to his human form, standing proudly over his only son. “How easily you fall. Are you that afraid of me?” He kicked his damaged left side cruelly, making Harry scream out again, tears running down his face.
“Dad…please…” he croaked, blood leaking form his lips.
How can I fight him?…I’ve always wanted to be able to see him…speak with him…
“Ha! You’re not my son. My son would never cry like you, my son would stand to his feet and fight!” he kicked him again, but Harry rolled over, taking the brunt of the kick in his back. James cursed, feeling cheated out of having a challenge. Ralphie got him back into this world, and if he had to do him a favour here and there…why not? “I’ll show you something that I always liked in school-“ he pointed his wand, and a there was a flash of light. Harry was immediately suspended in midair, hanging by his left ankle.
“I’ve always been interested in muggle games. Do you know what a Piňata is?” James conjured a blindfold, and a bludger’s bat. Slowly, he wrapped the blindfold around his eyes, and hefted the bat with his right arm. “Okay. Now I spin myself a few times…like this...” James twirled a couple times, counting softly. Harry noted with defeat that his vision was fading, the blood rushing to his head. He needed his wand!
Harry raised his one good arm in reflex as James swung with all his might. He absorbed the bone splintering blow with a howl, his body swinging wildly around as the force spun him all directions. His span of vision encompassed all directions as the Lion, then his blindfolded father, the ground, the sky, the horde, his own badly bleeding arm, everything became a blur of red pain. He was blacking out, and his body couldn’t take this anymore. Another wild swing cought him in his back, and he fell again, the Levicorpus spell fading away.
“It’s not fun any more. Too easy. I think I’ll just end this little fracas here." he pointed his wand fiercely this time, his expression contorting into total hate.
"Avada-" he froze mid spell, putting his knuckles to his chin in contemplation. "No. Wait.” James stared at his young son. “You’re supposedly impossibly hard to kill. Voldemort killed me, but he couldn’t kill you. Better not take any chances. A joke twice is never nice, so I’ll do this the muggle way. Just making sure there is no magic feedback this time around, junior.”
Kicking him again, he shoved Harry’s broken body to lay face down, planting a foot on the centre of his back, effectively claiming victory. James suddenly realized everyone was watching, and proudly removed the hood from over his hair. He began whooping his arms, the Horde’s confidence growing as they could clearly see that one of theirs had defeated the Auror Commander. A chant began to grow and James ran his hand through his hair, as if preparing to do something that he thought was a waste of time, but had to do anyway. Taking out one of the Hunter’s blades from the invisible sheaths on his back, he hefted its weight, inspecting the steel. Taking a handful of Harry’s long dark hair in a cruel grip, he pulled back, exposing his son’s bloody face and vulnerable throat.
“FOR LESTRANGE!” James cried, the sword held high in the air.
Harry couldn’t see anything. His vision had blacked out, all of his limbs shutting down in a haze of damage. He could vaguely feel something heavy on his back. Then, voices, lots of faraway voices….
Ouch. Someone was trying to rip out his hair…
Harry Potter’s vision swirled before his eyes once again, fires and smoke clouding the fleeting moments when light actually got into his eyes. Somebody was on their knees, crying...screaming. He felt blood building up into his throat, making him choke. His back arced painfully, and his broken ribs burned in protest to the movement.
Well sorry ribs, too bad. I can’t use arms… they say they are broken too.
“HARRY!!” a female voice screamed.
That same person, on all fours…calling him…no begging?
“DON’T GIVE UP! DO SOMETHING !”
“Oh, is she someone important to you?” a voice wafted in from above him, the pull on his roots even more pronounced with those remarks. “Are these soldiers...this school… important to you?” He felt his head yanked back, and he stared groggily into an older, rotting version of his own face.
“You thought you could protect them?” James laughed. “Like how I tried to protect your mother and you? Only a fairy tale, boy. In the real world, the weak will lose!” he snarled, and spat in his face. Harry’s eyes closed in disgust, a strong emotion swelling up in him.
“You’re not going to die !” Rebecca Lestrange shouted. “I ORDER you not to die, do you hear me soldier ?!”
No… she’s right. I can’t die...not like this. Everyone’s counting on me…
As he felt the blade of the hunter’s sword drawing blood against his neck, he reopened his eyes, and this time they began to pulse with a white luminance.
“Sirius, I need your help...”
James hesitated on hearing his best friend’s name. “What did you just say?” he asked, his eyes opening wide. Harry felt all pain vanish, and all sensations disappear. He no longer felt any sort of attachment to his enemy. The bottom line was if he lost, his comrades would die, and Lestrange will win.
Under no circumstances could he allow this. With his last concious thought, he cast judgment on his enemies with a very faint incantation.
Draco Malfoy knew not to interfere. Not even he could challenge the Lion of Gryffindor, and it was blatantly obvious that he did not make idle threats. He eradicated Longbottom without a second thought. But when he saw Potter’s eyes reopening with that strange, dark magic, he knew things were going to get serious.
“EVERYONE! CLOSE YOUR EYES!” He screamed desperately, feeling that crippling sensation hover in the air. “DO NOT LOOK DIRECTLY AT ITS EYES, NEITHER INTO THE COMMANDER’S! DO SO AT THE RISK OF YOUR LIFE!”
Malfoy dipped his eyes, his limbs beginning to tremble as he stared resolutely at his feet. “Jesus Christ, this is not the fucking place to be right now…”
The Grim walked slowly towards James Potter, the glowing eyes of the huge black dog staring directly into his own. James released his grip on his son’s hair, backing away in shock. Harry fell face first into the bloody fields, the remainder of his strength disappearing with that final act of defiance.
“pp-Padfoot?” He breathed, his rotting face contorting into an expression of horror. The Grim continued it’s steady prowl, stopping momentarily to sniff at Harry’s dark head. When it was finished, it growled; a low, ominous grumble reaching everyone’s deepest psyche. Draco felt faint, and he heard a few others falling as they passed out from the immense pull on their very life. Peeking, he realized on Rebecca seemed to be unaffected, and was staring directly at the amazing scene playing out in the centre of the battlefield.
“Lestrange!” Draco hissed. “Do not look at it!” he ordered again. Rebecca took a few stepped forward, a serene expression on her face.
“It cannot hurt me- I have intertwined my life with his. If he dies, I will die. But if the Omen death itself cannot affect him, it cannot affect me. That is the root of our family charm. Whatever he wants, I will give it to him. My loyalty lies forever with him...that’s my unbreakable vow, Malfoy. I’m going down to help him now.”
“What? Are you mad? The Lion-” Draco reminded her, even though it should be plainly obvious-
“Is gone. So is the dog. It’s over,” she said softly, walking down the slight incline to the depression in the centre. Draco Malfoy opened his eyes, and nearly wished he hadn’t. Countless bodies, basically a sea of dead, littered the entire battlefield. And in the centre depression where it was relatively empty, lay two bodies.
Father and son Potter lay face down, their bodies an eerie position such that both of their feet were angled towards each other in perfect line, basically a halfine dividing the winners and losers of this gory massacre.
“IS THERE ANYONE INJURED?” Malfoy shouted, turning around and facing the Auror army. When everyone shook heir head after completing a self inventory and a verbal assessment of the others close to them, Draco blanched. It seems he wasn’t kidding when he told DeFontaine that they were just here for the cleanup process. He took out the military enhanced Skeeter Bug and placed it in his ear.
“S.T.A.R. member Malfoy to base- Over.”
“Schweinsteiger. What’s the status, soldier?” Marcus answered, a hint of relief in his voice.
“Marcus, contact Kingsley. Report that we are victorious, and that Durmstrang is safe.”
“And the number of prisoners?” he enquired.
“None. They’re all dead.”
Nearly an hour later, Draco Malfoy was walking amongst the dead, looking for something very important. All of the aurors here were on cleanup duty, excepting four medics and Rebecca Lestrange. Pretending to be at least interested in the identification process, he grinned widely as he found what he was looking for. A token of battle, per say.
Crouching low, he cleared the mud off of a broken S-12A Battle Lance. The only broken one, to be precise. Making sure no one was watching, he took the broken wand pieces from it’s core, pocketing it alongside the broken remnants of Voldemort’s wand.
Excellent- now he had both sister wands of the same phoenix: the weapons from the Dark Lord Voldemort himself, and the Boy Who Lived; Harry Potter. Getting to his feet casually, he smiled in triumph.
Ah, this prize… a worthy talisman to remember his victory. He was interrupted from his reverie when a man from the Ministry forces came up to him.
“Sir,” Emmanuel Finnigan addressed respectfully.
“Initial report is in, sir. Five hundred and thirteen wizards bagged and tagged, plus two thousand, one hundred and fifty three Inferi corpses identified and disposed of.”
“Excellent. Finnigan, what I want you to do now is-” Draco broke off, jerking his head to the sky. A tremendous magical presence was coming. “Alert all units, something big is coming!” he snapped, and his eyes blazed alive. “Step back,” Draco ordered.
“Alert all units I said!” Draco’s eyes burned alive, and a ring of fire formed around his feet. “I’m going to check this out-” Without another word, his arms ignited, and he shot off into the air.
Ron and Hermione were coming to the end of their impromptu journey, Sansa Ferri had reached Durmstrang. There were small pockets of fire all over the grounds, and smoke congested the clear night sky. As she circled in from high above for landing, Draco Malfoy sensed the unnatural magical presence and looked up, his eyes narrowing as he tried to identify the massive bird.
“What in Slytherin’s name is that?” He said to himself as he gained height to confront the incoming bird.
[…we’re here…and we’ve been spotted…] Sansa said calmly.
“Spotted?” Ron blurted. “Who?”
[...the dark magi Malfoy has hailed our presence…look…]
“Halt!” Draco shouted, basically a burning speck against the background darkness. “Who goes there?”
[…shall I remove this obstacle…young master…?]
“No, we’re not in the kill on sight business. Slowdown, and let us talk to him,” Ron said.
“MALFOY!” Ron shouted.
“Weasley? Granger?” Draco said, quite astonished. “What is this?” Malfoy commanded, coming eye to eye with the massive bird. Then it clicked. Hmph. Don’t tell me…
“This here is-” Ron began. Draco raised a palm, indicating that no words were necessary.
“Yes….I know now,” he sighed. “…Ravenclaw’s summoning spell?” Draco offered.
“Very well, I thought I’ve seen everything today, but this one takes the cake. Two Gryffindors on the Bird God’s back. Why are you here anyway?” Draco asked lazily.
Too stop you.. Ron thought, but changed his tune wisely before he started a fight.
“We’re here to offer assistance to Harry,” Ron said, Hermione nodding at once.
“A bit late aren’t we?” Malfoy snickered. “As if this bird could stop the Lion of Gryffindor-”
At this Sansa Ferri’s eyes opened wide. […leo was here..?]
“Yes, he was for a while. Interesting fellow, I must say,” Draco mused. “Potter is not down there, by the way,” he added offhandedly.
There was a few seconds of silence in the night air before Ron realized what was happening.
“Well? Aren’t you going to tell us?!” he blurted out.
“It is confidential ministry business,” Draco stated, his trademark smirk visible even in this poor light. He was quite at ease having a conversation in midair, even with Sansa Ferri breathing down his neck. He wasn’t frightened, not one bit. “You’re not cleared for that sort of information, Weasel King.”
“Why.. you cocky bastard!” Ron started, but Hermione put a restraining hand on his arm. Pointing her wand, she simply cast a charm on Malfoy.
Malfoy’s eyes went unfocused for a moment, then he shook it off. He glared angrily at Hermione. “What did you do?”
“Ron, Harry’s been severely hurt. He’s been sent back to St. Mungo’s,” Hermione said easily. “Malfoy, is there anyone else seriously injured here?” Draco just glared. “Answer –“ Hermione began, then suddenly a voice blared inside of his head.
THE SIMPLE QUESTION, MALFOY!
Draco put his hands against his ears, screaming as the pain rang through his head. “No.. no..No one! Get the fuck out of my head, Granger,” Malfoy threatened, his eyes flaring with the Infernus. Sansa clicked her beak.
[...be wary who you threaten, young man…] Sansa said softly, and turned away, her massive wings gliding on the currents.
Malfoy just hovered there, his fury building as they flew away. Just you wait, Granger. Just you wait…
Sherry Diggory was reading the initial reports form the battle lines.
“Are you sure this information is correct?” she demanded of Jeremy Kingsley. He had apparated back to the Military base on the outskirts of Lionheart as soon as he was able.
“Nearly three hundred aurors dead, two hundred and eighty from Hogwarts and twenty from Beaxbatons, but none under Potter’s command, where they faced nearly three thousand of the enemy?”
“Well, Potter himself was injured, but other than that, those reports are correct.”
“Merlin’s beard…” Sherry exclaimed. “Amazing, if not the most utterly ridiculous statistics I’ve ever heard.”
“Commander Potter can summon the Grim, Madame Minister. This is not something we have taken into consideration. He is highly dangerous, even more dangerous than we thought possible.” Sherry Diggory digested this piece of information, and then an idea came to her head. This was her chance!
“Where is he?”
“He’s being treated at St. Mungo’s.”
“I want his memories properly modified this time. Make it such that his sole purpose is to be a loyal soldier for the Ministry. With his ability, I will bring all of those Death eaters to justice, once and for all. See that it is done, Kingsley.”
“Madame-” Jeremy protested, but was cut off abruptly.
“You have your orders,” Sherry cut him off, a stony expression on her face. “You are dismissed, Admiral.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jeremy said indignantly, and walked off.
Ron and Hermione reached back into London with the rising sun. Landing in Hyde Park not to far from St. Mungo’s, Sansa Ferri disappeared and both of teenagers ran on foot towards the Ministry building. As they walked inside, Ron brushed against a man wearing a high ranking military uniform. There was a moment of recognition between Hermione and Jeremy Kingsley but neither of them stopped to have a conversation.
“Ron?” The girl at the front desk said in surprise. “What’s with the robes?”
“Never mind that, where’s Harry Potter?”
As his name was mentioned, the receptionist expression clouded over and she put on a cool façade. “I’m sorry, Mr. Potter has not been admitted into this facil-“
“Leglimens!” Hermione halfway closed her eyes, and then muttered the short term memory erasing charm. “Come on, I know where he is,” Hermione said, already walking off. Ron had to blink a few times to realize what had just happened there.
“Jeez, Hermione, you’re scary sometimes.”
“C’mon Ron!” she ordered, and he trotted to catch up.
A few stunners and some short term memory charms later, Ron and Hermione were walking into the restricted Military section, the unconscious Auros on guard duty were now sleeping on their feet in a cramped broom closet. Just as they reached Harry’s room and were about to enter, a shadow moved so quickly Ron didn’t have a chance to respond when a blade was pressed against his neck, a wand pointed directly at Hermione’s back.
“Put down your wands, the both of you, now,” Rebecca Lestrange hissed from behind Ron’s neck, the top of her head barely clearing Ron’s shoulder. Only when Hermione dropped her wand and turned around did she recognize the two of them. “What are the two of you doing here, attacking Ministry staff to boot?” She snarled, not trusting if they were under the Imperius curse or not. Depending on their initial response, she’ll have to render them unconscious as quickly as possible.
“Oh. You,” Hermione snarled. “For your information, Lestrange-” She drawled on the name- “We’re here to help our friend, well, my boyfriend for that matter. You can let him go, we’re not under the Imperius curse if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Rebecca grunted, and let Ron go, her blade disappearing without a trace in the folds of her robes. “Well, Miss Granger, seeing as you’re here to help, I suggest next time not to go about knocking people out or invading their privacy as a means of doing so,” Rebecca said evenly, her eyes hardening. “Some may think you’re here for ulterior motives.”
“They say he’s badly injured?”
“Nothing the healers here can’t cure,” She said easily.
“Can I see him?” Hermione asked sweetly. Rebecca thought about it for a second, then nodded. Granger had saved her life.
“Yeah, of course you can see him, just don’t let anyone see you. I’m going to revive the two you guys took out.” She watched Ron for a moment. “You’ve got a good arm there, Weasley. You should come check us out.”
Ron said nothing, but watched her as she marched down the hall to find the two guards on duty.
“Come on, we’ve got to get him out of here,” Hermione said simply, and opened the door.
“ ‘Get him out’? What are you-" Ron broke off as he laid eyes on his friend. " Oh my god..” Ron breathed. Hermione froze, flashbacks of the after math of the Hunter’s attack racing through her mind. Harry lay there on a bed, his entire body bandaged and magical casts on both arms suspended by stationary Levitation charms.
“Harry...” Hermione said softly, bending over at his side. Resting her palm against his bruised face, she sensed out with her Divine magic. “Every time he’s in this condition, Solidus gains more control while he helps him heal…” Hermione thought for a moment, then she put her hands on her hips. “Any ideas how we’re going to sneak him out?” Hermione asked aloud.
“Unless you consider taking her out alongside the two other aurors, again, I dunno…” Ron shrugged nonchalantly.
“I guess that’s what we’d have to do, then,” Hermione stated. “I..-” (she blushed) “have to take him somewhere private...er-” (she blushed again) “to do the ..er…healing spell...yeah… so we’ll have to sneak him past the guards.”
Ron sighed. “All right, All right, I’ll take care of them. Be back in a moment. But I was never good at memory charms, so you’d have to do the final touches when I’m done.”
“Okay, I’ll start disenchanting the security in the room, and these levitation casts..” Hermione added. Ron left the room, and Hermione heard a few enchantments and the sound of spells ricocheting through the hall outside, then the soft muffled thuds of bodies falling. By the time Ron came back in with a satisfied grin on his face (and a huge burn streak through his flaming red hair) Hermione had Harry levitating on a stretcher for travel.
“Right,” he announced, dusting off his hands arrogantly, “You can do the memory mods now. They’re all nice and cozy in the broom closet.” Hermione went, did the alterations, and shoved the broom closet closed, wincing a little at the dull sound. She may have used a tad bit more force than was necessary on Rebecca’s unconscious head. Hermione smiled.
“All right, one other thing- can you drive stick?” Hermione dangled a set of car keys.
“Yep,” Ron grinned, snatching them out her hand.
“We’ll need a vehicle, the apparition wards are still in place, so we got to take one of the auror vehicles,” Hermione explained as they went down the fire exit portal, Harry floating docilely behind them. When they arrived at the underground parking level, they had to get past two nosy (well maybe not so nosy, seeing as the top Auror was floating helplessly behind them) Hospital security guards, but other than that minor slowdown, operation Steal Harry Potter was a success.
Driving down the freeway on Hermione’s instructions, Ron found something not quite right about this whole thing. IF she really needed to heal him, she could have done so at the hospital. Now that he thought about it, he basically had gone along with all the wacky ideas because he thought it would be fun, more than actually making sense.
“Hermione, where are we taking him?”
“A secret place.”
“To do what, exactly?” Ron asked again. Hermione bit her bottom lip a bit hesitantly.
“I’m going to exorcise Solidus Gryffindor from him,” she said as a matter of fact. Ron spun about to look at her in the passenger side, and Hermione had to point lazily at the oncoming car to get Ron 's eyes back on the road. Ron swerved, escaping death by a wingmirror distance, the other car's horn blaring in his wake.
“Oh?” Ron blurted, once again not even paying attention to the road (even after he nearly crashed) . “And how are we going to do that?’ he demanded.
“Not ‘we’, me.” Hermione paused, wondering if she should add unto the pressure by actually telling Ron what she was going to do. This had never been really done before, but she had faith that her research would prevail. “I’m going to administer Siren’s curse on him,” she said softly.
“Oh. Okay then.” It took Ron a few minutes for that to really soak in.
“YOU’RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!!”
author’s note: The part at the hospital where Kingsley was leaving the hospital was a giveaway, but it had to be there, sorry for not making it more mystery-esque. Thanks for reading! Oh- and if you like this fic, check out these two series on cable: HBO’s ‘Rome’, and FX’s ‘Over There’. I’ve watched the entire debut seasons of those two series and they are exquisite. Respect!
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
The Game of Love
Our Lips Are...
Whispers of ...
by Alexus Dr...