Above the Forest - Part 4
Draco's triumphant laughter died on his lips as he watched the girl fall from her broom. He hadn't expected her to actually fall, and the thought of the impact far below made his stomach turn over. Inwardly he sneered at himself. Yeah, a fine Death Eater you make, Malfoy. This is what you took the mark for, isn't it? To see Potter and his friends diminished.
He wheeled around, keeping out of Harry's wand range, while trying to rid himself of his own macabre thoughts. In his mind, the thought of Granger slamming into the ground repeated over and over, accompanied by the sickening crunch of broken bones.
Diminished? Diminished? What, are you afraid to say dead, all of a sudden? Grow a spine. This is no time to go soft.
Now what was he to do? The Dark Lord had given explicit instructions that Potter was not to be touched. All of a sudden, an image flashed into Draco's mind - a small object falling from the Granger girl's hands as she had convulsed in pain. What was that, then, Mudblood? What are you hiding? I'm sure the Dark Lord would like to know. And perhaps I can catch up with Weasley in the forest. Without another thought, he spun mid-air and followed Ron's rapid descent.
He wasn't running way. He wasn't!
***
Numb with shock, Harry watched as Malfoy chased Ron into the mist, and spun quickly around, fully intending to follow. His friends were in trouble. He couldn't leave them.
Harry...
He cried out as sudden pain shot from his scar, over the top of his head and continued down his spine.
Come to me...
Dark, forboding, unmistakable, the voice in his head threatened to unleash its own brand of insanity into the world.
Come to me.
As quickly as it had begun, the pain stopped. The connection was deliberately severed from the other end.
Disorientated, he looked for Ron, frantically trying to remember which direction he had taken, but the shimmering tendrils of mist clutching to the forest made it impossible to see.
It had all happened so fast. Tears sprung to his eyes. How could he continue now? How could he? There was no way that Hermione could have survived that fall, was there? Could she have somehow resisted the Cruciatus curse? It was unlikely. Given the speed of her descent; she would have had mere seconds in which to throw the curse off and cast a cushioning charm. His mind searched through all the possibilities for some glimmer of hope, and found none.
And then, in the sudden silence, on the very edge of hearing, a soothing voice reminded him of his path;
Star of Faith the dark adorning
All through the night;
Leads us fearless t'wards the morning,
All through the night.
Though our hearts be wrapt in sorrow,
From the hope of dawn we borrow
Promise of a glad tomorrow,
All through the night.
It was his mother, singing to him from the depths of his despair, helping him find the strength to continue. So many lives had fallen to the darkness. He couldn't fail them. He couldn't fail Hermione.
Resolved, Harry turned his broom towards the castle once more, his tears turning icy on his cheeks in the cool morning air.
"Oath, or no oath," He murmured. "When this is over, Malfoy, if I find you, I'll kill you myself! "
***
Ron crouched over the broomhandle, teeth set, his eyes and throat burning with mist, seeking the dark blur of a falling form. How far to the ground? How close was he? It didn't matter. The only thing in his mind, now, was the sound of the curse as it surged past him, and the sudden lurch of the broom as Hermione toppled bonelessly to one side, the rushing air snatching at her hair and robes as she disappeared into the mist's embrace.
He opened his mouth to yell and choked as the cold air caught in his throat. "Hermione..." It came out as a whisper, lost on the wind.
And there - had that been an answer? A faint cry from the forest, but not from below. Mist - got to be. Lost my way. He swung himself over to the left, throwing the broom round sharply to bear on the source of the sound - perhaps she'd managed to slow her fall, got caught up in the trees?
Hope spurred him onwards.
He wheeled around, keeping out of Harry's wand range, while trying to rid himself of his own macabre thoughts. In his mind, the thought of Granger slamming into the ground repeated over and over, accompanied by the sickening crunch of broken bones.
Diminished? Diminished? What, are you afraid to say dead, all of a sudden? Grow a spine. This is no time to go soft.
Now what was he to do? The Dark Lord had given explicit instructions that Potter was not to be touched. All of a sudden, an image flashed into Draco's mind - a small object falling from the Granger girl's hands as she had convulsed in pain. What was that, then, Mudblood? What are you hiding? I'm sure the Dark Lord would like to know. And perhaps I can catch up with Weasley in the forest. Without another thought, he spun mid-air and followed Ron's rapid descent.
He wasn't running way. He wasn't!
***
Numb with shock, Harry watched as Malfoy chased Ron into the mist, and spun quickly around, fully intending to follow. His friends were in trouble. He couldn't leave them.
Harry...
He cried out as sudden pain shot from his scar, over the top of his head and continued down his spine.
Come to me...
Dark, forboding, unmistakable, the voice in his head threatened to unleash its own brand of insanity into the world.
Come to me.
As quickly as it had begun, the pain stopped. The connection was deliberately severed from the other end.
Disorientated, he looked for Ron, frantically trying to remember which direction he had taken, but the shimmering tendrils of mist clutching to the forest made it impossible to see.
It had all happened so fast. Tears sprung to his eyes. How could he continue now? How could he? There was no way that Hermione could have survived that fall, was there? Could she have somehow resisted the Cruciatus curse? It was unlikely. Given the speed of her descent; she would have had mere seconds in which to throw the curse off and cast a cushioning charm. His mind searched through all the possibilities for some glimmer of hope, and found none.
And then, in the sudden silence, on the very edge of hearing, a soothing voice reminded him of his path;
Star of Faith the dark adorning
All through the night;
Leads us fearless t'wards the morning,
All through the night.
Though our hearts be wrapt in sorrow,
From the hope of dawn we borrow
Promise of a glad tomorrow,
All through the night.
It was his mother, singing to him from the depths of his despair, helping him find the strength to continue. So many lives had fallen to the darkness. He couldn't fail them. He couldn't fail Hermione.
Resolved, Harry turned his broom towards the castle once more, his tears turning icy on his cheeks in the cool morning air.
"Oath, or no oath," He murmured. "When this is over, Malfoy, if I find you, I'll kill you myself! "
***
Ron crouched over the broomhandle, teeth set, his eyes and throat burning with mist, seeking the dark blur of a falling form. How far to the ground? How close was he? It didn't matter. The only thing in his mind, now, was the sound of the curse as it surged past him, and the sudden lurch of the broom as Hermione toppled bonelessly to one side, the rushing air snatching at her hair and robes as she disappeared into the mist's embrace.
He opened his mouth to yell and choked as the cold air caught in his throat. "Hermione..." It came out as a whisper, lost on the wind.
And there - had that been an answer? A faint cry from the forest, but not from below. Mist - got to be. Lost my way. He swung himself over to the left, throwing the broom round sharply to bear on the source of the sound - perhaps she'd managed to slow her fall, got caught up in the trees?
Hope spurred him onwards.