Above the Forest - Part 1.
As the battle begins in earnest, enter the trio... with thanks to the lovely red_king and hj_granger.
Above the Forest
The air was cold, colder than it should be for a summer morning. The wind whipped the edges of cloaks, and slammed dryly into eyes and noses and mouths. Far below lay the dark, unwelcoming smear of grey-brown-black that was the Forbidden Forest, and above there was nothing but the endless sky.
From time to time an eldritch wail far ahead heralded the presence of a harpy, followed by the distant booming bellow of an enraged dragon. Smoke and ash were carried aloft on the wind, along with the stink of charred flesh.
Other sounds come from below, muffled cries and shouts - a scream - of a friend or a foe?
Best not to think on it. Best to fly on...
Hermione hated flying. No matter that she was quite safe, being transported in expert hands, her arms wrapped tightly around Ron's waist and her face shielded from the worst of the wind by his shoulders. Under other circumstances, she would have enjoyed the contact, the closeness, even the wind in her hair.
Under other circumstances, she reminded herself sternly, a cuddle might be appropriate. And it isn't now.
She chewed her lip.
Even if you really, really could do with one.
Although Ron had kept his mouth shut, he was secretly grateful that Hermione had decided to ride tandem with him. There was no way he'd have been able to keep his eyes on two other brooms at once - as it was, he was constantly scanning the sky around them for the first signs of an attack, his wand gripped tightly in his right hand, his left curled around the broom handle. Hermione's warmth at his back was at once a comfort and a worry. The hair on the back of his neck prickled at every distant screech and strangled scream - not for the first time, he wished the broom was equipped with mirrors, like the old Ford Anglia had been.
Hermione risked a sideways glance at Harry. "All right?" she mouthed, when she thought she had his eyes for a moment.
Harry nodded, a terse smile fleeting across his face. At the moment the best he could do was concentrate on flying, on keeping out of sight, and remaining at a steady altitude above the shadowy forest. Best to concentrate on that, and to try to enjoy the flight. Best to give himself up to the freedom while he had this chance, rather than think about what lay ahead.
Ron pointed wordlessly ahead with his wand. He didn't need to speak - it was enough that the other two were seeing what he was seeing. The Quidditch pitch was in front of them, the nearest goal hoop broken off about ten feet from the ground. Something at the base made him dip his broom slightly, angling for a closer look, then he pulled up sharply, his gorge rising as he saw that there was a body tied to the post. At least, he hoped it was a body - whoever it had been, there was little chance of them still being alive now.
Hermione shuddered, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting the urge to cry out to Ron to go back, to see if there was anything they could do. There were others who would see to the victims...they were on a mission. The last mission. There was no going back.
Ron wouldn't have turned back, even if Hermione had begged him. If I see it, and it's someone I know, I'll lose my nerve. I know I will. He recalled his words during the WWN broadcast, and grimaced. If it wasn't someone he knew, did that make any difference? Either you went on, or you stayed, no matter who it was, right? Still, his imagination supplied Ginny's face when he thought of the slumped figure behind them, and he forced the thought away with difficulty.
"Where are we landing?" he called across to Harry, turning his head and feeling the wind try to snatch his words away.
"Head for the Astronomy tower." Harry pointed towards the misty shape in the distance. "We can come in close to the roof, and use the quadrangle as cover."
...to be continued.
Above the Forest
The air was cold, colder than it should be for a summer morning. The wind whipped the edges of cloaks, and slammed dryly into eyes and noses and mouths. Far below lay the dark, unwelcoming smear of grey-brown-black that was the Forbidden Forest, and above there was nothing but the endless sky.
From time to time an eldritch wail far ahead heralded the presence of a harpy, followed by the distant booming bellow of an enraged dragon. Smoke and ash were carried aloft on the wind, along with the stink of charred flesh.
Other sounds come from below, muffled cries and shouts - a scream - of a friend or a foe?
Best not to think on it. Best to fly on...
Hermione hated flying. No matter that she was quite safe, being transported in expert hands, her arms wrapped tightly around Ron's waist and her face shielded from the worst of the wind by his shoulders. Under other circumstances, she would have enjoyed the contact, the closeness, even the wind in her hair.
Under other circumstances, she reminded herself sternly, a cuddle might be appropriate. And it isn't now.
She chewed her lip.
Even if you really, really could do with one.
Although Ron had kept his mouth shut, he was secretly grateful that Hermione had decided to ride tandem with him. There was no way he'd have been able to keep his eyes on two other brooms at once - as it was, he was constantly scanning the sky around them for the first signs of an attack, his wand gripped tightly in his right hand, his left curled around the broom handle. Hermione's warmth at his back was at once a comfort and a worry. The hair on the back of his neck prickled at every distant screech and strangled scream - not for the first time, he wished the broom was equipped with mirrors, like the old Ford Anglia had been.
Hermione risked a sideways glance at Harry. "All right?" she mouthed, when she thought she had his eyes for a moment.
Harry nodded, a terse smile fleeting across his face. At the moment the best he could do was concentrate on flying, on keeping out of sight, and remaining at a steady altitude above the shadowy forest. Best to concentrate on that, and to try to enjoy the flight. Best to give himself up to the freedom while he had this chance, rather than think about what lay ahead.
Ron pointed wordlessly ahead with his wand. He didn't need to speak - it was enough that the other two were seeing what he was seeing. The Quidditch pitch was in front of them, the nearest goal hoop broken off about ten feet from the ground. Something at the base made him dip his broom slightly, angling for a closer look, then he pulled up sharply, his gorge rising as he saw that there was a body tied to the post. At least, he hoped it was a body - whoever it had been, there was little chance of them still being alive now.
Hermione shuddered, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting the urge to cry out to Ron to go back, to see if there was anything they could do. There were others who would see to the victims...they were on a mission. The last mission. There was no going back.
Ron wouldn't have turned back, even if Hermione had begged him. If I see it, and it's someone I know, I'll lose my nerve. I know I will. He recalled his words during the WWN broadcast, and grimaced. If it wasn't someone he knew, did that make any difference? Either you went on, or you stayed, no matter who it was, right? Still, his imagination supplied Ginny's face when he thought of the slumped figure behind them, and he forced the thought away with difficulty.
"Where are we landing?" he called across to Harry, turning his head and feeling the wind try to snatch his words away.
"Head for the Astronomy tower." Harry pointed towards the misty shape in the distance. "We can come in close to the roof, and use the quadrangle as cover."
...to be continued.