The End

Chapter 13: Rain like Hell

"Didn't McGonagall say that Grubbly-Plank could have a carriage ready for us within five minutes?" Harry asked as he walked across the Hogwarts grounds with Hermione and Sydney, his own trunk and Ron's floating in front of him. Much to his own annoyance, they seemed to have grown brains and opinions on which way to go since the last time he checked, and he was having some trouble controlling them. Not that he hadn't expected it; when he'd Apparated with another person before, his magical abilities had declined slightly as well, although it hadn't taken him this long to recover.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed from up ahead. Harry noticed that her trunks were behaving themselves perfectly, even though she was responsible for three.

"I'm just saying, it's three kilometers to Hogsmeade by this route, why are we walking?" Harry said.

"I don't see what you're complaining about, leaving Hogwarts was your idea," Hermione replied smartly.

"I'm not complaining," Harry said as he narrowly sidestepped his trunk, which had just decided that tripping him would be a marvelous way of asserting its independence. "I just don't see why we're not taking the easy way out of this one."

"The point is to disappear," Sydney explained. "The simplest forms of transportation are the least easy to notice."

"Just as long as we don't have to walk all the way to Wiltshire," Harry muttered.

"After we get to the forest, I'll hide the trunks and we'll stay under cover until we're as close as we can get to Hogsmeade, then head for the train station."

"Into the forest, you say," Harry sighed. "You do realize that there are some rather unfriendly animals in there."

"Hagrid would say they're all just misunderstood," Hermione pointed out.

Harry would have reminded her that she'd always been just as skeptical of Hagrid's appraisal of his pets as anyone, except that he didn't have the heart to criticize Hagrid and at that moment his trunk forged ahead with sufficient speed to knock the unsuspecting Hermione off her feet. Harry only managed to head it off by the narrowest of margins. He spent a moment searching for another way to discourage their entering the forest, and settled upon pointing out that, "The centaurs aren't going to be very happy to see us, and I don't think they'll buy the young and innocent excuse anymore."

"They probably won't mind too much if we stay close to the edge of the forest," Hermione sighed. "If you've got a better idea..."

"No, no," Harry replied, deciding to stop arguing before Hermione or Sydney decided that they should get to Hogsmeade via the bottom of the lake instead, or that traveling to London by train would be far too indiscrete.

Hermione transfigured the trunks into rocks when they reached the tree line, and with that finished, the group shouldered their packs, grabbed up the caged and crated Hedwig and Crookshanks, and set off in the direction of Hogsmeade.

Harry was rather uncomfortable with the prospect of venturing into the forest, even if they were to stay along the edge. He'd entered into the dark mass of trees many times since he'd started at Hogwarts, but rarely managed to leave the place on especially good terms. The last time had been no exception. Harry didn't think the creatures in the forest were likely to forgive him for that incident for as long as they could remember, and most of them had very long memories.

Harry was grateful to see that Hermione hadn't dropped her guard even though it was she who thought that they were safer traveling the perimeter of the forest. As it was, she had her wand dimly lit and was using it to study the terrain before she went and stepped in it. Sydney alone seemed relaxed, but Harry had long since observed that the emotion she wore was often a poor indicator of how she actually felt. In fact, the more Harry observed her, the more he noticed her wary glances into the dim forest and how she would pause and tense momentarily whenever there was an unexpected sound.

They continued on for quite some time without incident. Thus far the only real trouble had been with getting scratched by stray branches and trying not to get jumpy to the point that they would send a spell after every passing animal. Harry was beginning to believe that just this once they'd managed to get out of the forest without being attacked when he was forced to reconsider his position.

Harry stopped dead. He felt as though he had swallowed an icicle; a long, sharp icicle. Sydney nearly ran into him in the dark.

"You alright?" she asked, utterly unaware of what was happening.

"Not exactly," Harry gasped, doubling over.

"Hermione?" Sydney called, suddenly concerned that whatever was afflicting Harry had affected both Wizard and Witch.

It had not, however, and Hermione came back to them a second later. "Harry what's wrong?" she asked, peering into his pale and sweaty face in the light of her wand. "You look like you've been poisoned!"

The very thought seemed to send chills down Hermione's spine. They were a considerable distance from the castle and she'd left her potions supplies back in her trunk. However, Harry managed to come up with a much more sinister explanation for his condition immediately upon seeing that Hermione wasn't suffering any ill effects. Another wave of pain brought him to his knees, and he took the opportunity to squeeze his eyes shut and bury his head in his hands.

Harry had never experienced such a sensation before, but knew only too well what was causing it. He'd once read a description of such an experience, and now that he'd felt the same thing he doubted very much that there was a better way to explain what he was currently feeling: 'It felt as though someone had taken a mixing spell and a lot of ice water to my insides.'

"Harry, you've got to tell us what's wrong," Hermione was saying.

"It must be a Jabberwock!" Harry forced out. Crookshanks seemed to agree. He'd started hissing and spitting loudly from his crate.

Hermione was on her feet in a flash, raising her wand. Sydney was a second behind her.

"Do you know where it is?" Hermione asked the huddled mass behind her.

"Not exactly, but its close," Harry informed the ground, hoping Hermione could hear.

There was a gasp from the two women. Harry had only ever seen a rough sketch of a Jabberwock in his Care of Magical Creatures book, but since prolonged exposure caused insanity in men he wasn't particularly keen on adding any detail to his mental picture.

As it was, he knew they were strange dragon-like beasts and that, apart from their ill effects on men, they had sharp teeth, shaper claws, and liked using both. They were highly dangerous beasts.

"What could one be doing here?" Hermione asked.

"We can figure it out later," Harry groaned, "just stop it!"

"Stupefy!" Hermione called, but it didn't seem to help. In fact, the Jabberwock let out a roar like a scream and started approaching the group.

Hermione tried two more spells before she said, "Magic seems to just slide off her coat. What do I do?"

Harry wasn't sure. The only advice the book had offered to men was to run, fast, but he could barely move. Any attention he'd paid the book after that had gotten its day when he took his Care of Magical Creatures O.W.L., then promptly escaped his mind in the chaos that followed. But what troubled him more than that was the fact that Hermione, bookworm and human encyclopedia extraordinaire, couldn't remember either. Not that her losing her head in intense situations was entirely unheard of, but after the rather embarrassing experiences with the Devil's Snare in their first year and the Boggart in Professor Lupin's final exam, she'd made astounding efforts to keep cool under fire and rarely made a repeat performance of this magnitude. In this case, her timing was unfortunate.

"I don't know, try throwing something at it," Harry mumbled. His thoughts were elsewhere, attempting to ignore the glacier in his stomach and determine how the creature had gotten to the dark forest in the first place. It seemed no coincidence that their group was being attacked.

The Death Eaters and Voldemort had never really bothered with trying to attack Harry with Dementors, even though they were the best assassins. After all, Harry had proven himself able to fend off a horde of them in his third year, and Hermione's otter patronus was a right old spitfire when the occasion called for it. Even Ron managed to conjure up a small, sliver dog, although it usually happened to be when it was least expected and least needed, like one unfortunate but memorable Potions lesson. At any rate, this foresight on the part of Voldemort made itself manifest in a huge annoyance for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with proportionally large teeth and claws.

"That is one big lion," Ron said, awed, as they squinted up at the behemoth. Likewise, it gazed down at them, standing impassively between them and Hogwarts, waiting for the Wizards to make the first move. The pouring rain gathered in its matted fur and slid down to the ground in front of them, upsetting and deepening the puddles already there.

"I'm not so sure that's a lion," Hermione replied, attempting to get a better look at it despite the pouring rain and dim light.

"Well, at any rate, it doesn't look like it's going to let us pass," Ron sighed. "Any thoughts?"

"Creatures this big are typically impervious to magic," Hermione pointed out. She looked mildly concerned. "What do you think, Harry?"

"How'd it get here?" was what Harry meant to say, and how he meant it to sound, but he failed in the latter respect as the words instead came out as croaking hisses.

All three Wizards jumped in surprise at the unexpected noise.

Ron recovered first. "I thought you couldn't speak Parsletongue unless you were actually talking to a snake.

Harry thought for a moment then said, "I can't," grateful that this time the words came out in English.

The answer to that particular mystery was soon solved, as a giant snake came into view, flicking its tongue at them. At first glance, it looked as though the snake had merely caught a ride on the lion's back, but a sudden flash of lighting revealed not only that the snake in fact made up the lion's tail, but that the creature was also sporting another head, that of a goat, which seemed to protrude oddly from its back.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered.

That seemed to sum up the situation very well as the trio stood, aghast, staring into the three faces of a Chimera, one of the most fearsome beasts known to wizard kind.

"Hermione," Ron said squeakily. "A brilliant solution would be nice right about now."

"I'm thinking!" Hermione yelped.

In the meantime, Harry decided to take matters into his own hands and hissed at the snake, "We don't want to hurt you."

"You're friends' actions suggest otherwise," all three heads replied simultaneously, creating an eerie echoing sound.

"We just want to get to the castle," Harry said. "We'll only fight in self defense." He aimed a significant look at his friends as he said this, although he couldn't tell if they actually understood him, as he was unsure whether he'd been speaking English or Parsletongue at the time.

"But we are so very hungry," the Chimera replied, "and you came so easily into our presence."

"We won't allow ourselves to be eaten," Harry gulped. "If you just let us go on our way then none of us will get hurt."

However, the Chimera seemed to have had enough of talking and had set about making itself as menacing as possible by bearing its combined teeth, although little effort toward its desired end was actually required.

"Hermione, do you have anything yet?" Harry asked desperately.

She shook her head despairingly. One look from Ron told Harry that he hadn't had any more luck.

"Spells will bounce right off him," Hermione explained hopelessly. "They're kind of like dragons that way."

That was all Harry needed to hear to come up with a plan, but the Chimera lunged at them before he got the chance to do anything about it. Ron tackled Hermione out of the way as the lion and goat's heads snapped at them and Harry nimbly sidestepped the snake.

For a moment, the Chimera seemed satisfied with stalking Ron and Hermione, who were scrambling to extricate themselves from the tangled pile they'd somehow gotten into. Harry took the opportunity to summon his broom from the broom shed and used the interceding time to throw whatever he could get his hands on at the beast while simultaneously sending Conjunctivitis curses in its direction, although neither seemed to have much effect.

Not a moment too soon, his Firebolt soared up and halted next to him. He mounted it and kicked off from the ground and proceeded to try and distract the Chimera in the same way he had the Hungarian Horntail in his fourth year, but with much less success. It seemed as though the Chimera was perfectly satisfied with leaving the snake head to snap at Harry and keep him at bay while the lion and goat heads continued to threaten Ron and Hermione.

The two on the ground had regained their footing by now, and were shooting off whatever spells they thought might help, but they too were proven ineffective. Everything seemed to slide off the creature's hide. Even a coordinated attack with stunning spells only resulted in a brief lapse in energy on the part of the Chimera. It soon became clear that, barring any unforeseen brilliant ideas, they wouldn't be able to slay this nemesis. Escape seemed to be the only viable option, difficult and risky as it was. There would be no outrunning the Chimera on foot, and even though Harry had his Firebolt, pulling out Ron and Hermione with it would be difficult at best and suicide at worst, especially since there would be no time for the two of them to mount the broom properly. Harry would have to carry them both.

Equally impossible was the option of carrying them to safety one at a time, as whoever was left behind would almost surely die before Harry could come back for him or her, and Harry couldn't make that choice, let alone live with it afterwards. His mind made up, Harry pocketed his wand and began to plan his attack. Unfortunately, he was unable to convey his idea to his friends: not only did he suspect that the Chimera would be able to thwart any plan if it had sufficient warning, but he could not guarantee that he would speak in English with the snake around. Therefore, it was lucky that Ron and Hermione figured out what he was doing and raised their hands up for him to grab a split second before he needed them to.

The extra weight forced Harry's chest onto his broom for support, compromising his ability to steer and he just barely managed to avoid crashing into the ground in the first few seconds of flight. Even after he recovered from that and became accustomed to working with the extra weight, gaining altitude proved to be a problem, the best he could do left Ron's toes just barely clearing the grass. Observing this, Hermione performed a spell on the two of them, making them lighter, which helped a little.

By now the Chimera had figured out what had become of its quarry and set off in pursuit. Fortunately it was no match for a Firebolt, even grossly over laden as it was. Harry flew Ron and Hermione to a second floor balcony then set off to head the Chimera back into the forest. He resembled nothing so much as an overly large fly, buzzing annoyingly around the creature's three heads. The beast took the bait this time and followed Harry, swatting and biting at him menacingly from three different directions. At long last, they reached the tree line and Harry shot off into the forest, the Chimera on his heels. The beast gained on him slowly, since Harry had to negotiate a route between the trees while the Chimera mostly just crashed through them. He was beginning to decide that wherever they were would have to be far enough and hoped the Chimera wouldn't have enough sense to navigate its way back out of the forest when he saw something he'd really hoped he would be able to avoid: a Centaur, Bane, to be specific.

"What have you done?" Bane asked, just before shooting an arrow at the Chimera.

Harry saved himself the need to fabricate an explanation by flying up out of the dense forest and into the night sky. After a momentary battle with his conscience, Harry decided that the Centaurs had always been able to handle themselves in the past and there was little he could have done at that point to help them anyway. Nevertheless, he did feel miserable for bringing this Chimera to the centaurs' doorstep then abandoning them with it, but he had a more important task at had.

Harry made his way to the balcony where he'd left Ron and Hermione. By the time he got there they had already checked each other for injuries and were anxiously awaiting his return. After he landed Harry realized how scratched and ragged he looked and how exhausted he felt, no longer in the top fighting form he had been in only a few minutes earlier. Harry sank to the ground and allowed himself a brief minute's respite while Hermione dried off his robes then sought out and tended to the deepest scratches.

"Are you alright?" she asked gently.

"Perfect, Harry muttered. "We've got to get inside, warn the Order about the Chimera, and make sure no one goes outside."

Hermione wasn't entirely sure what to say to that.

"Harry, are you sure you're alright? We're trying to leave the school and there's no Chimera here."

Harry shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he realized that he wasn't on a balcony, but on the ground in the forest. He sat up slowly, grimacing at the dull ache deep in his stomach and took in his surroundings, still a little confused.

"What happened to you?" Harry and Hermione asked each other simultaneously.

Hermione was not particularly befuddled at the time, and was therefore a little quicker on the rebound and managed to declare, "You first," before Harry had fully realized his question had an echo.

"Well, I'm not really sure, actually," he admitted carefully after comprehension finally dawned on him. "I guess something about being attacked here reminded me about the night we fought the Chimera, when we were trying to get back, and..." He trailed off and shrugged, Hermione knew what he meant. "The Jabberwock must have done something to my head."

Hermione didn't have any idea of what to make of that, so she simply said, "They do have a strange effect on men, but you're okay, right?"

"Yeah, fine," Harry replied as he got unsteadily to his feet. "What about you? Why couldn't you remember what to do?"

"Is it really that unusual for someone to forget something like that?" Hermione asked accusingly.

"It's unusual for you," Harry pointed out.

"My mind just went blank," Hermione said defensively.

"Alright," Harry sighed. "Anyway, I guess you figured it out in the end."

"Actually I didn't," Hermione replied.

"You didn't?" Harry stammered. "But it's not...I mean...you got it...it's not effecting me anymore..."

"Sydney shot her," Hermione informed him.

"Oh," Harry said, taken aback. "The Ministry is gonna be thrilled."

"No kidding," Hermione sighed.

"We've got to go," Sydney said, coming up to meet them.

"Why the sudden hurry?" Hermione asked as they fell into step.

"I'm assuming stuff like that doesn't happen often?" Sydney prompted.

"No," Hermione replied. "Jabberwocks are native to Scandinavia."

"You remember that but you can't think of how to fend off the thing," Harry said.

"My point is, it must have been sent here," Sydney said. "Would it be like the Death Eaters to convince it to come after us?"

"It wouldn't be unheard of," Harry replied with a significant look at Hermione.

"That means that they've already figured out that we were involved in the raid of Malfoy Manor and decided that this is the most likely place for us to be. Someone in Hogwarts might have even told them where we were," Sydney explained. "We have to let ourselves be spotted once we get to London, to let them know we're not at Hogwarts anymore. Then hopefully they won't send something else here."

"That'll be easy enough," Harry replied. "Short trip down Knockturn Alley, if we make it out alive we can consider ourselves spotted."

"Alright," Sydney agreed.

They began walking again, Harry still feeling the after effects of the Jabberwock's presence in the pit of his stomach.

"Did you say that creature was called a Jabberwock?" Sydney asked, out of the blue. "As in 'Beware the Jabberwock my son'?"

"The very same," Hermione replied.

"Was Lewis Caroll a wizard?" Sydney said.

"No, he just happened to come across a Jabberwock," Hermione explained. "The Ministry caught up with him and modified his memory. You might notice he was a bit confused when he wrote that poem."

"I thought he did that on purpose," Sydney muttered.