The Enrichment Trilogy: The Forbidden Forest

Life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.

William Goldman, "The Princess Bride"

It was a warm and sultry afternoon, not a dark and stormy night, and the six individuals in question were stuck in a clearing in the middle of a thick forest, instead of inside a dark, haunted mansion in London. There was neither butler, nor a fat American doctor, or even an eccentric, horny widow with millions of dollars in jewels strung about her beefy neck. Instead the reader stumbles upon a more curious scene: six teenagers, staring dumbfounded at one another, with peculiar sticks of expensive and elaborate wood clutched tightly in their hands. As a cool breeze pushed itself out from between the trees and onto the young men and women in question, a lonesome, white cloud hung in the blue sky above, almost seeming to conspicuously spy on the group below. It probably was.

"Well, this is certainly out of the ordinary," a tall, redheaded girl with ivory white skin and soft, freckled cheeks said, stating the obvious to no one in particular. She fiddled with the stick in her hands a bit, clearly confused.

"It looks like we've been transported to the middle of a forest of some sort," a slightly taller boy spoke up, also stating the obvious. This tall, lanky redheaded boy was standing next to an identical young man, his twin. Both were wearing khaki shorts, trainers, white tee-shirts and ugly purple dragon-hide jackets. Not only were they young, successful business men, but they were also two of the redheaded girl's older brothers. Fred and George Weasley, eighteen-year-old Englishmen with lopsided grins and sparkling blue eyes, were standing with their fourteen-year-old sister Ginny, their sixteen-year-old brother Ron, and Ron's two best friends, fifteen-year-old Hermione Granger and fifteen-year-old Harry Potter.

Ginny finally looked up from her stick, which was really a magical wand, and looked uncertainly at her companions. "What are we going to do?" She asked. Ginny was tall for her age, and was wearing a pair of olive-colored shorts, a white tank top and a cream-colored cardigan. Her once-long red hair now fell just above her shoulders in choppy, stylish waves and she was wearing a new pair of small eyeglasses with thin, light blue frames that matched her eyes.

"Our wands aren't working!" Hermione exclaimed for the third time since they had mysteriously landed in the little clearing. She swung her wand around in vain, trying various charms and spells, but to no avail. She sighed and dropped her arm back down to her side. She was wearing a pair of light blue jeans, trainers, and a small white tee. Unlike Ginny, she hadn't grown much over the summer in any respect, from her height to her weight to her lack of curves. She had let her wild brown locks grow even longer, and they now reached her waist in the long, messy braid that Ginny had haphazardly done for her that morning. She was easily the shortest and smallest person in the group, and she could have passed as twelve instead of her true fifteen years and ten months.

"Yes, I think we've established that," Ron said, sighing as he shoved his wand into the back pocket of his jeans. Like his older brothers, he had let his red hair grow long and shaggy. He was the tallest of the group, even taller than his older brothers, and he wore a pair of jeans that were just long enough and an old long-sleeved yellow shirt that said 'Chudley Cannons' on the front in faded script.

"Does anyone know what even happened?" George asked, looking around nervously. "It was like one minute we were in the attic, and the next minute, we are here!"

Ginny slapped her forehead with the heal of her hand in exasperation. "No, really, George? Well, that explains everything!" She shook her head and turned to Ron. "This is all your fault! When you opened that brass box..."

An eruption of argumentation exploded. Ginny loudly accused Ron of their situation, Ron yelled that it was the twins' idea to go up to the attic in the first place, Hermione yelled at the twins for persuading them to do something they had been told was off-limits, and the twins debated heatedly as to which one of them had come up with the infamous idea in the first place. All of this at the exact same time was enough to give any sane individual a headache. Clearly annoyed and having lost its interest in the odd scene below, the lone white cloud rolled away and out of sight.

The fight would have gone on much loner if a very angry, very cold shout hadn't interrupted their heated cursing and catty retorts. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was clearly also Very Annoyed. His arms were crossed over his chest and an irritated scowl darkened his pale features. He had grown a few inches over the summer, but his hair was still a jet-black mop of a mess on his head, and he was still wearing his cousin's old hand-me-downs. The old, faded jeans were baggy and torn at the ends and he was wearing a big black hooded sweatshirt over a gray tee-shirt.

"I'd like to say that standing around and attempting in vain to place blame on one individual would help this situation, but unfortunately this is not the case," Harry said softly but firmly. No one could mistake the cold edge of annoyance and disgust in his voice. "We need to figure out what has happened and how to get us back to London as soon as possible. This vague plan does not include arguing and fighting, however, so I'll have to ask everyone to please grow up."

Ginny looked sheepishly down at her white trainers. "Sorry, Harry."

"Yeah, sorry mate," Ron added. "You're right. We need to figure out what's happened here, and how we're going to get out of it."

The trouble had begun a few hours earlier, in the late morning, as rain poured lazily outside. The big, fat drops pounded the city concrete and black umbrellas dotted the muggle streets outside of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. There wasn't even a hint of any breeze, and the morning's slight humid hug deepened as the day wore on, until finally Ron, Hermione and Ginny had been driven into the huge second floor study. Hermione had wrenched open the huge windows in vain, hoping that they would catch some sort of fresh air for their tired lungs.

They sprawled out on overstuffed arm chairs, and even Hermione lacked the strength to choose a book from one of the huge floor-to-ceiling bookcases that covered the walls. There they sat for a few hours, their conversation ranging from their numerous chores, Voldemort, the upcoming new term at Hogwarts, and their worry for Harry, who spent all of his time holed up in his private chambers on the third floor.

They were interrupted in the late morning hours by the Weasley twins, who came bounding in with pent-up energy.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the store today?" Ginny inquired, twirling a short, wavy lock of ginger hair between her fingers.

"Diagon Alley is practically disserted," George explained, shrugging.

"Usually shoppers just use charms and spells to repel the rain and bad weather, but there doesn't seem to be much demand for buying anything today," Fred explained. "Even Madame Maulkin closed her shop for the day."

"Anyway, business is doing so well, and we've been bogged down with our plans to open a new store at Hogsmeade, so we've decided to give ourselves a unscheduled afternoon off," George finished. "So, what's everyone up to?"

"Ugh..." Ron shrugged, looking at Hermione and Ginny. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing, actually. We're quite bored."

"Lucky for you two, we've come to your rescue!" Fred said, smiling widely. "Where's Harry?"

"In his room, enjoying his privacy," Hermione muttered. "As usual."

"So, what are we going to do?" Ginny asked, sitting up. The twins always had a brilliant idea or two, which is why they were seldom found in any state of boredom.

"We have a fantastic plan," George announced. "We've seen most of this ancient mansion, right? Well we thought, in true Hogwarts-mischief fashion, we'd do some extra out-of-bounds snooping around."

It was Hermione's turn to sit up, a worried look settling upon her face. "Look, whatever it is, it doesn't sound like a sensible idea. Let's just play some Exploding Snap or go check on Harry..."

"Aw, c'mon, Hermione," Ron said, standing up and stretching. "I'm sick of Exploding Snap, and we need to drag Harry out of his chambers, not join him in there." He turned to his brothers. "So, what's the grand idea? Where are we going?"

Fred and George exchanged mischievous grins. "The attic," they revealed in unison.

"Well, first off...we're in the middle of the forest. Lost." George said, looking around at their surroundings.

"Yeah, wonderful, but you've already made that clear," Ginny said, shaking her head. "How'd we get here, though? It happened when Ron opened the box..."

"It transported us here," Harry said. "And apparently there's no easy way back. What'd you do, Ron, just open the box?"

Ron shrugged. "That was it. There was an unlocked latch, so I just lifted the lid and...voila. Here we are."

"A box that transports a group of people to a seemingly unmarked, in-the-middle-of-nowhere place, while eliminating the magical individual's ability to use their wand..." Hermione said, hands on hips. "This doesn't ring any bells, to any of you?"

"Uh, no..." George said, shrugging and sticking his hands in his pockets.

"It's a dark object, but I can't remember the name," Harry said suddenly, a look of realization dawning in his green eyes. "They've been banned by the ministry, but they've been used by magical families for centuries to banish shameful family members!"

"Exactly," Hermione said, looking impressed with Harry's knowledge. "You've read ahead for sixth year DADA, too, I see. Anyway, when a witch or wizard shamed their family somehow, they were often given two choices: death by poison or the box. The box transported them to the middle of somewhere desolate or dangerous, and rendered their wand useless. If they somehow made it back to civilization, the family would once again deem them worthy of their presence."

Everyone was silent for a minute except for Ron, who gulped loudly. "Wow, 'mione, you say that so calmly. Personally, it sounds like we're all as good as dead."

Again, the group was silent for what seemed like hours, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else.

"No, this is definitely not a good idea!" Hermione said for the umpteenth time as she and her friends gathered in the hallway on the third floor, next to the entrance of Harry's chambers. "Look, let's just not do this, c'mon."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Hermione?" Fred asked as Ron knocked on Harry's door. "Lighten up a bit, will you?"

"No, I won't! Not when your mother, your father, Tonks, Moody and Remus have told us a million times not to go up there!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Look, this is first time we've been alone in the mansion," Ginny pointed out. "Obviously they trust that we can handle anything, even looking around a stupid attic!" She hooked an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Relax. This might just draw Harry out of his room," she whispered in the older girl's ear.

"Yeah, er..." Harry said, opening the door. He was surprised to see the group standing in front of him, smiling at with looks of trouble in their eyes. All except Hermione, of course, who looked disgruntled and defeated. "What's...um...going on?"

"We've come to rescue you from the inner-most depths of your mysterious, half-lit, Snape-like chambers, Sir Potter," Fred said, giving Harry a lavish bow. "Please do join us on one our most current escapade up to the greatest heights of this crumbling, magical structure that holds your poor friends captive day and night."

"Yeah, and if you don't willing come along," George said, "We'll drag you by your ears. So you haven't much choice."

"Erm...the 'greatest heights'? You're not talking about the attic, are you?" Harry asked, hesitating. Hermione took this opportunity to pounce.

"I know, Harry, they're all insufferable gits. I think the plan's shoddy, too, and I'll only go if you go, since I know you'll make the right choice," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Ron, Fred, George and Ginny one of her darkest glares.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Harry suddenly said, stepping out of his chambers and closing the door behind him. "Lead the way," he said to Fred and George, who were both practically jumping for joy.

Everyone bounded up the stairs as Harry and Hermione followed slowly behind. Harry gave his scowling friend and apologetic half-hug as they ascended the rickety wooden steps.

"Live a little," he said unenthusiastically.

"There is one very, very odd thing about this whole situation," Hermione said, interrupting the uncomfortable silence.

"Hmm, what could that be?" Ron said sarcastically. "Is it the fact that we're in the middle of some forest with no way home? Or is it the whole 'wands not working' situation? Because I'd really like to know, 'mione. Enlighten us."

Slap!

Ginny's hand connected with Ron's cheek quite unexpectedly. Ron stared slack-jawed at Ginny, touching his fingertips to his slightly-numb, freckled cheek. Ginny stared daggers at her older brother.

"Shut up, Ron," Ginny spat, crossing her arms over her chest. "What were you saying, Hermione?"

"Um, er, well..." Hermione said, slightly flustered. "What was I saying? Oh, yes. Usually these boxes are only designed for one individual..."

"Right, I was thinking the same thing," Harry agreed. "The DADA text mentioned that. They're only designed for one person, so someone would have had to go through quite a bit to magically alter the particular box Ron stumbled across."

"You think that...this may have been set up?" Ginny asked, shocked. Ginny was neither slow nor dim-witted. Wheels were spinning madly in her head. "That someone planted that box there?"

"Perhaps," Harry said. "But then again, the Black family was never a generally law-abiding family, was it? It has had dark objects, like the brass box, which could probably easily rival Lucius Malfoy's most treasured collection. The box may have been altered years ago."

"That attic is stock-piled with dark magic objects that haven't been properly exposed of yet!" Hermione said. "I told you all we should not have been up there!"

"Merlin, it's dusty up here," Ginny said as they entered the attic. She gave a great big sneeze and bumped into George, who nearly knocked over a huge mirror that had been leaning up against a wall. The attic was tiny but overflowing with all sorts of magical instruments and objects.

"That mirror's been destroyed," Ron commented, pointing out the smashed pane of glass. "I wonder what it used to show people."

"Pour examiner le futur, ne demeurez pas le passé," Hermione read aloud. "It's French. It says, 'to look into the future, do not well in the past'. It probably showed you your future. Those things were ever hardly reliable, anyway, and the ministry banned them a long time ago."

"Since when do you speak French?" Ron asked, surprised. "I've never heard you speak French before."

"Last summer I took some private lessons when I was staying in France with my family," Hermione explained. No one was surprised.

As everyone shuffled around the attic, something silver on the floor caught Ginny's eye. She stooped over and picked up a shiny, silver hairclip. She turned it around slowly in her palm, admiring the intricate floral carvings on it.

"Aw, this is so pretty," Ginny gushed. "It looks like one of those clips that come in sets of two, like from an old-fashioned wardrobe." Next to her, she could see Ron fiddling with a brass box. Just as she was about to stick the clip in her red locks, Ron opened the box and with a surprised yelp, a flash of light swallowed up the group in one huge gulp.

Ginny, suddenly realizing that she still held the hairclip tightly in her left hand, stuck the old hair accessory into her pocket and sighed.

"We need to decide how we're going to deal with this," she said. "No one knows we were up there. Even if they knew we meddled with that box-thing, it'd be foolish of them to open it themselves to follow us here, because then we'd just be a larger group of lost, magic-less witches and wizards."

The sun was sinking lower in the sky above, and the humidity of the afternoon was slowly beginning to dissipate as the afternoon slowly faded into early evening. Harry shivered, suddenly wary of their surroundings. He felt as if they were being watched, which probably was the case.

"We're most likely somewhere in the Forbidden Forest," Harry said. "That's where most English families sent the 'shamed' family members. But I don't suggest we begin delving into the wooded depths just yet. It's getting darker, and we'll much worse off in there at night."

"Right," Hermione said, nodding in agreement. "And I also think it's important that, no matter what, we stay together. It'd be horrible if we all got scattered and separated in this situation..."

"Hermione, you're going to jinx us, be quiet," Ginny said quickly.

Hermione sighed. "Sorry."

"So, we should just settle in for the night, then..." George said, looking for a nice patch of grass to sit on. Just as he was about to flop down onto the ground, an odd sounded coming from nearby in the forest caught their attention.

"What the bloody hell...?" Ron said, tensely gripping his use-less wand. George straightened up and the group turned their attention to the direction from which the sound was approaching.

"It...it sounds like horses. Their hooves..." Ginny said. "Could it be...centaurs?"

Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged worried looks, recalling Umbridge's encounter with the displeased magical creatures late last spring. Centaurs were not too keen on cooperating with magical humans at the moment.

"Maybe...maybe we should, you know...run?" Ron suggested, panicked. He was beginning to back away from the approaching sounds, but it was already too late.

From between the thick trees emerged a frightening group of...