Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Thirty:

A stroll in the forest

"The note said south west of Aragog's lair," said Harry confusedly swatting away a profoundly irritating moth that had been buzzing around his face for far too long. The persistent bugger was back in business a split second later appearing if possible even more determined to annoy the shite out of him. A bad omen if there ever was one, of that Harry was almost certain.

They'd been trekking into the increasingly darkening forest for almost half an hour, hardly speaking at all. Initially he'd taken control of their little team, directing them in what he thought was the right direction. Soon however Ginny had stepped up and with a solemn "I'll take it from here," claimed control over their hasty excursion. Instantly she'd performed a near U-turn and stalked off in the opposite direction. Too baffled for words Harry had mutely followed her.

Well, he could be wrong couldn't he? It wasn't as if he'd been in here all that much lately and it was more than three years since he and Ron had sought out the giant spider's lair. And back then he'd been more focused on following the fleeing insects than memorizing the trail. Still he was pretty certain this was not the right way.

"You are aware that we're travelling south?" he asked anxiously. Getting lost was not an option.

"South-west actually," corrected Ginny tonelessly. "And the note was incorrect," she added with a slight shrug.

She continued weaving in and out of trees effortlessly, sidestepping protruding roots, and skipping over rabbit holes like a seasoned wood ranger. Harry suspected her Sight played a vital part, or at least he hoped so. This serene Ginny was a wee bit scary.

"What do you mean the note's incorrect?" demanded Ron irritably. "Why would they mess up the directions? It's pretty essential information wouldn't you say for this whole blackmail-thingy to work? It's not really as effective if we end up lost and never make it on time, you know."

Ron was not enjoying the hike at all, that much they'd all gathered by the wash of profanities flowing evenly from his mouth. Two nasty scratches across his cheek also told a tale of a brief struggle with a Whipping Whine and judging by his somewhat skittish demeanour appeared to be half-expecting some of Aragog's nasty offspring to attack him at any given moment.

"Oh Ron," panted Hermione heavily wiping at her sweaty forehead. She was bringing up the rear, and not by choice Harry suspected. It was quite clear that she was having some difficulty keeping up with their brisk pace. There were advantages to Quidditch practises three times a week that she'd obviously neglected to consider. If they survived this Hermione really had to start exercising, otherwise she might turn out a real liability in a duel.

"It's obvious that Voldemort tried to trick us. He's probably hoping we'll follow the note's directions and walk straight into Aragog's lair. It'll be far more difficult getting away from a pack of giant spiders than a bunch of Death Eaters. Spiders act on instinct to a far greater extent than humans do, making them superior hunters. If they end up killing some of us that'll just be an added bonus I suppose," she added breathlessly, struggling to climb over a fallen tree. "Although I suspect he's given them specific orders not to kill you, Harry."

"Lucky me," muttered Harry sarcastically. "Is she right, Ginny?"

"To a certain degree," was Ginny's only and very unsatisfactory reply. Hermione rolled her eyes but refrained from pushing the matter. Whether this was because she realized she wouldn't get very far or she was too winded, Harry didn't know. He suspected the latter but was to scared to confront her. Hermione could get right nasty when she felt criticized in any way and the only one fearless (or stupid) enough to do any such thing was Ron.

Hoping to avoid another Ron-Hermione row, Harry hasted to shift his attention back to Ginny.

"Have you seen anything useful?" ventured Harry softly. Ginny didn't look at him, but swerved abruptly to the left walking straight through what looked like a thorny bush. It turned out to be nothing but a Disillusionment Charm.

"Obviously," he muttered lamely and feeling a bit sceptical he followed her. When he stepped through he was astonished to see that they were in a rather large clearing. All around it towered large trees, but considering it was in the middle or the dark forest, it was surprisingly light.

"They're coming," informed Ginny calmly.

xXx

The next couple of minutes were spent crouching rather uncomfortably behind a large upturned tree trunk. Hermione had cast some sort of Chameleon Charm on them making them blend into the background, which was a very good idea save for the fact that they had a bit of trouble seeing each other.

Still it was the coolest bit of magic Ron had witnessed in a long time, and he was having a hard time trying to calm his enthusiasm. He'd always had a slight tendency to get overly chatty whenever he was a bit nervous, and if the prospect of being viciously murdered by deranged Death Eaters couldn't quell that habit, then Ron suspected nothing ever would.

So much for being an Auror, he noted glumly, half wishing for the ability to pummel himself in the back of the head. Thankfully Hermione knew just the trick to stop his nervousness from giving their hiding place away.

Bloody brilliant of her, thought Ron serenely a moment later as he leaned heavily against the tree trunk, his mind half seriously considering taking a teensy weensy nap while they waited.

"I think you overdid the Calming Charm a bit," whispered Harry nodding in Ron's direction.

"What? You do?" asked Hermione distractedly. It was hard to tell with the Chameleon Charm and all but her voice suggested she was focusing on spotting Voldemort and his entourage and not paying Ron the slightest bit of mind.

"He's snoring," said Harry wearily. And right he was. Deep, rumbling snores was issuing from Ron's direction with increasing sound.

"Oh for Merlin's sake," snapped Hermione in a muted hiss. She flicked her wand at Ron and with a near silent "Finite Incantatem" the Calming Charm lifted.

"What did you do that for?" complained Ron much too loudly and was nearly run over with shushing-sounds from Harry and Hermione.

"Keep your voice down, you imbecile," snapped Hermione in a shrill whisper. "You were snoring just now, and between the choice of a snoozing-Ron and an awake-and-annoying Ron I prefer the latter. You're likely to blow our cover regardless but this way at least you're alert."

"Nag," muttered Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him with practiced ease.

Ron couldn't help the incredibly inappropriate moan that escaped his lips. Merlin, even with a Chameleon Charm she looked good when she was angry. Sexy too. Hastily and pink-cheeked Ron turned his attention back to the clearing. They had a mission to attend to, and unless he managed to get his concentration in order pronto, he might not live to enjoy riling her up again.

~

They hadn't waited all that long when a subtle rustle of leaves and the familiar sound of twigs snapping roused their attention. Harry, Hermione and Ron clustered closer together in a valiant attempt to stay hidden, heartbeats nearing frantic rhythms.

Ginny however didn't show the slightest inclination to move or hide.

Harry swore under his breath. To make matters worse she was standing in the brightest spot there was, something that didn't exactly help the Chameleon Charm. It clearly worked best in shadows and dusk because unless he squinted really hard Harry couldn't really see Hermione huddled next to him, yet he could quite plainly make out Ginny's outline.

Harry cursed silently with such force that Hermione almost had a apocalyptic fit and even Ron raised an eyebrow. Honestly, what was she playing at? She'd been acting sort of strange ever since they'd bumped into her on the stairs outside of Hogwarts but vague answers and starry eyes Harry could live with. Plain stupidity however was pretty damned hard to ignore!

There was nothing else for it: He had to get her!

As if reading his mind someone grabbed hold of his robes obstructing his quest. Whirling around Harry squinted at the Chameleon charmed someone holding him back and quickly identified it to be Hermione, hugely based on the tutting noises said person was making. She refrained from speaking, not wanting to draw unwanted attention to their hiding place, yet her meaning was clear. Stay put!

Harry didn't like it much, but she was in all likelihood right: Dashing to get a possibly uncooperative Ginny (she was a bit loony at present moment) might attract unwanted attention. Content that Harry had understood, Hermione relaxed her grip a bit and instantly Harry felt his saving-people thing kick in with renewed intensity. He was about to leap into action when something ruined the opportunity.

A sudden echoing blast rang loudly through the forest startling Harry into near shock. A split second later an enormous tree came whooshing straight at them!

Frozen all three stared agog as the tree soared towards them, branches lashing about like lethal whips, before skimming the top of their heads by a ridiculously slight margin. It finally landed with a deafening blast just a few metres behind them.

They stood in petrified silence, watching the spot were the tree had stood only seconds before. Any minute now the Dark Lord would appear thought Ron half-crazed with nerves. It would be the first time he saw him; his first up front encounter and who knew; maybe even his last...

A violent roar pierced the air and something very large and very wild leapt into the clearing.

"That's not him, is it?" croaked Ron in a splutter.

"Of course not," whispered Hermione harshly. "That's a troll, not Lord Voldemort. Honestly!"

Ron felt her more than saw her roll her eyes and he felt his ire rising. He was about to lash out a particularly scathing comeback but the words died brutally on his lips as an all too familiar tone of voice interrupted their little stake out.

"That is correct," drawled someone silkily, the tone laced with arrogance. "Perhaps I should add "as always", hmm? My son informs me you haven't changed your know-it-all ways yet, little Mudblood."

The voice tutted mockingly and with a lazy "Finite Incantatem" Ron felt the Chameleon Charm lift. "Most disappointing, I must say," continued the voice. "The notion that someone so -" he paused slightly, surveying Hermione with blatant disdain, "unworthy and impure holds the position as top of the year is quite disturbing."

Ron cursed loudly and received a sharp sting to his neck as reward. They'd been bloody ambushed! And by bloody Malfoy to boot if he wasn't much mistaken. The troll and the tree had been nothing but a couple of simple diversions! Honestly it was the oldest trick in the book and as a seasoned Chess player he should've predicted this move.

But there was nothing to be done about that now. Malfoy senior however, there was a mug Ron would dearly love to practice his uppercut on. And if he didn't shut up about Mione soon, he might just turn the blond pointy git into his own personal punching bag.

"But I shall not dwell to deeply on this," their captor continued condescendingly. "I suspect this date will indeed mark your last day as a Hogwarts student, Ms. Granger, and if The Dark Lord permits it, your last day period."

He laughed a chilly sort of laugh and Ron felt something heavy clamp down on his heart. Not Mione! Never!

The next moment Ron felt something hard poke the back of his neck rather painfully. A wand, he acknowledged. They were held at wandpoint and something told him the ones doing it weren't esteemed members of The Order, far from it. Somehow he didn't quite see Lucius Malfoy changing sides...

"Your very presence at the school serves as a testament to just how much the standard of education has dropped under Dumbledore's reign as Headmaster." Malfoy's voice was oiled with contempt. Ron heard Harry mutter something, undoubtedly rude under his breath. Malfoy tutted in response. Tutting seemed to be his forte, Ron noted.

"Such filthy language, very uncivilised. And there's really no need to even attempt to struggle, Mr. Potter."

Ron heard the sound of fabric being rustled and then Harry groaned in what was undeniably frustration. Ron chanced a quick glance over his shoulders and felt his spirits deflate considerably when he realized that Harry was covered in magical ropes and his wand was clasped firmly in the hand of the Death Eater in front of him.

"Malfoy," spat Harry angrily glaring daggers at the masked man. He was awarded with the patented Malfoy-sneer. It was equally distasteful on father as on son. "How come I'm not surprised to see you here?"

"There's no need to speak either," intoned Malfoy pompously and with a flick of his wand Harry was effectively gagged. Ron growled furiously but managed, incredibly enough, to refrain from cursing out loud.

"Do forgive me, but I feel it wise to unburden your little friends of their wands as well," the Death Eater intoned silkily and with a smooth "Accio" Ron felt his wand fly out of his hand landing neatly in Malfoy's outstretched palm. Ginny and Hermione's followed closely behind. Hastily he tucked them inside his robes.

"Now, I would appreciate it if you'd all kindly step this way."

He gestured elegantly towards the clearing where the troll was still stomping about in a decidedly agitated manner. A few firm pokes with the wands currently trained on their necks forced them to comply.

Hermione of course couldn't resist a complaint about the rather harsh treatment and paid dearly for it when her captor singed her neck with a sharp Burning hex. She yelped in pain but quickly stopped when she realize the Death Eaters were laughing malevolently. Ron however noticed the slight shake of her hand and the quiver of her mouth. Hermione was suffering and he hated it.

Instantly Ron felt the wave of wandless magic within him build like an out-of-control fire. Nobody hurt Hermione! Nobody!

He was vaguely aware of a low growling noise much like a large beast of prey and was astonished to realize that it was coming from him. He could feel Hermione's eyes boring into his back and turning his head carefully not to be hexed by his captor, he met her gaze. Her eyes were huge and pleading, silently begging him not to rise to the bait.

The magic was building further and further and if he didn't soon put his mind into gear and perform the control-exercises Professor Figg had spent hours teaching him, it would burst forth in some form or another. He knew it could potentially cause some damage but the trouble was that if he wasn't the one consciously directing it then there was no telling what would happen. It could just as likely hurt one of them as the Death Eaters something which was a very sobering thought indeed.

With an almost invisible nod of the head Ron let Hermione know that he would behave - for now. Her face visibly relaxed and she even managed a weak smile before her captor (a gaunt-looking witch) shoved her mercilessly into the clearing. Ginny received the same treatment, as did Harry. Ron was the last one to crash to the mossy forest floor, getting the wind kicked out of him in the process. Behind him he heard the Death Eaters chuckle sadistically but that was soon forgotten. They had more important things to worry about. Such as not being trampled to death by a raging mountain troll!

Ron felt blind panic seize hold of him. He was wandless and could barely breathe yet; how was he supposed to fight a troll on these terms?

Hermione whimpered next to him and a quick glance told him that she had tensed up in fright. She'd done the same thing back in first year when she'd been trapped in the girls' lavatory with a creature just like this. Trolls were clearly one of the few things she didn't control..

Harry was still effectively bound and gagged and therefore of little assistance and Ginny - Ron almost did a double take when he turned to his sister for help. She was sitting quite calmly on the ground in a sort of Indian style position looking perfectly at ease with the situation.

"Gin!" yelled Ron panicky, grabbing hold of her shoulder and shaking her. Ginny looked perfectly unruffled.

"Gin, I need some help here unless you want to become troll-mash!"

He clambered to his feet, grimacing slightly at the pain shooting up his leg. It wasn't broken but he suspected a sprain. Not a good start.

"Gin!" He yelled again, trying valiantly to block out the sounds of cheering coming from the on-looking Death Eaters.

"We're about to be trampled to bits by that nasty thing," he gestured wildly in the direction of the troll, who was steadily, albeit slowly advancing on them.

"It's chained," murmured Ginny airily.

"What?" yelped Ron frantically? He was trying to determine the best course of action but deciding who he should try to protect first was not an easy one. Ginny's words were drowned in a mix of furious grunts and his own pounding heartbeat.

"The troll," repeated Ginny with remarkable poise given the seriousness of their situation. "It's chained to the huge tree over there. And besides it's not here to kill us?"

"Are you sure about that?" yelled Ron. The creature showed neither signs of being weighed down by chains or disinterest in the beheading of four teenage magic-students.

"Yes."

Ron resisted the urge to throw the stone he'd just picked up at his sister.

"Why not? Why else bring a bloody imbecilic monster like this along?"

"To stay guard over their other prisoner," answered Ginny with unnerving dispassion.

"What other pris- bloody hell- oh Merlin. Charlie!"

Somehow after the Death Eaters had ambushed them Ron had forgotten all about why they were there in the first place. But seeing his older brother bruised, bloodied and strung up in a nearby three by his wrists brought everything back into focus: Voldemort had taken Charlie to lure them out here; to get to Harry.

They all knew this of course when they started out, but given Harry's outstanding record of escaping said Dark Lord relatively unscratched year after year, Ron sheepishly had to admit he'd sort of assumed they'd just nip into the Forest, throw a few hexes around and then traipse merrily back out again Charlie freed and perfectly fine.

But Charlie was obviously far from perfectly fine if the amount of blood on his robes was anything to go by and it was at this moment everything clicked into place in Ron Weasley's mind:

This wasn't a game. This truly was a war; a war they might not win. And as sobering as that thought was, Ron knew one thing: He'd do his damnedest to aide Harry to the bitter end no matter what the consequence.

And it was with this newfound sense of purpose that he decided to do some rescuing.

So only armed with the sound of Hermione's distressed calls of "No" and Harry's muted shouting, Ron set across the clearing as fast as his mangled leg could take him. The mountain troll appeared quite taken aback by his sudden move because it kept staring stupidly at him until long after he'd passed it.

A hex beam narrowly missed him and he was forced to continue his run crouched as low as his gangly body would allow. Soon hexes were raining around him, and zigzagging his way across the open field, he could little do but pray for a bit of luck.

His prayers were awarded. After what felt like forever Ron collapsed by Charlie's feet, gasping for air and wincing at the pain in his foot, hex beams still zooming in their direction.

"Lo, Charlie," he panted trying for a smile. It felt rather strained. "Fancy finding you hanging around here?"

Charlie produced a guttural sound that Ron chose to interpret as a chuckle.

"Do you have a death-wish or something," his older brother wheezed back his voice scratchy and weak. Ron ignored his scolding as he was too busy simultaneously checking Charlie's injuries and keeping an eye out for possible hexes coming their way. Astonishingly the Death Eaters seemed to have backed down and even the mountain troll looked thoroughly disinterested in either one of them.

"Ouch, quit fussing Ron," snarled Charlie when he accidentally patted him a bit too hard on his chest.

"Broken ribs," muttered Ron under his breath. "Anything else critically injured?"

Charlie shook his head but the effort seemed a bit strained.

"How did they get at you anyway," asked Ron curiously chancing another look over his shoulder at the others. Hermione had managed to help Harry to his feet and both looked largely okay all things considered. Ginny was still sitting cross-legged on the ground staring into space.

Charlie grumbled something under his breath that Ron didn't catch.

"What was that?" he asked again. Charlie didn't answer straight away. He was staring at something behind Ron, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, betrayal and something which looked oddly like affection. Ron knew that look well; he'd seen it in Ginny's eyes for years whenever she was looking at or just thinking about Harry.

Suddenly it was as if the clearing had been dumped into an icebox. The temperature dropped significantly and the air seemed to cackle with - something. Whatever it was is was not good, that much Ron concluded as he felt the hairs on his arms rise and a chill run down his spine.

"She-" whispered Charlie his voice trembling. Ron turned slowly and felt himself freeze on the spot. Ominous figures were slowly emerging from the trees and into the clearing, all draped in black robes and wearing those eerie Death Eater masks he remembered seeing at the Quidditch World Cup last year.

Their progress was almost soundless, something which only heightened the sense of danger. Before long they'd took up position all around the clearing, effectively cutting off any routes of escape.

Soon however two of the Death Eaters stepped back creating an opening into the circle. There was a rustling sound and the temperature seemed to drop even lower. Something was heading their way. Something dark; something sinister.

Given the smooth, continuous sound it was making at least it wasn't a spider Ron concluded half-stricken with fear. But given the sheer amount of Death Eaters present and with Voldemort probably just seconds away he wasn't so sure this was a consolation at all. Perhaps spiders would be better? He almost laughed out loud. Who'd thought the day would come when he'd wish for spiders to arrive? Somehow this notion did nothing but heighten the sense of dread in his stomach.

A split second later something huge slithered into the clearing. Ron heard Hermione gasp audibly and instantly craned his neck to get a look at the arrival. He almost lost his footing when his eyes caught sight of an enormous snake.

"Nagini," he muttered. Harry had told him about that one but his descriptions had by far made her justice: She was ten times more horrifying in real life!

"You know that beast?" asked Charlie hoarsely. He was normally very sweet on even the most blood-thirsty of beasts, but it was plain to see that this snake did not strike any fancy with his brother.

"It's Voldemort's (Charlie shuddered) snake," whispered Ron out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes never leaving the reptile. It had coiled up in the middle of the clearing like an obscure landmark.

"Harry's seen it in some of his dreams."

"Crikey," muttered Charlie. "Wonder what they plan on using it for? I hope it's been fed recently."

"Why?" asked Ron. He had a feeling he didn't want to know the answer to that question but was unable to help himself.

"A snake that size can easily devour three people whole," was the answer he got. "Double that if it's famished." For once in his life Ron wished he'd been wrong.

X

The next couple of minutes were spent holding his breath looking anywhere for signs of Voldemort and his entourage.

"You never told me how they caught you," whispered Ron at long last. Waiting had never been a strong point. He might as well pass the time by getting some answers. Charlie muttered something unintelligible; clearly not too keen a brotherly heart to heart. Ron swore loudly causing the mountain troll to growl threateningly. Hermione whimpered but thankfully the troll remained in its place.

"Stop mumbling like a blushing second year!" admonished Ron. He cast a quick glance around the clearing. Still there was no sign of Voldemort.

Charlie sighed in obvious frustration and reluctantly began talking through clenched teeth. "I was just saying we were supposed to have lunch down by the lake. We'd agreed to it the night before and she was there when -"

"Whoa, back up there a bit!" demanded Ron his attention once again one hundred percent on Charlie. "What do you mean she? Did you have a date planned is that it?" He shook his head in confusion. "Are you dating someone from Hogsmeade?"

"No," was Charlie's curt reply, his eyes firmly trained on something in the distance.

"Oh, come on," wheedled Ron exasperatedly. Death Eaters or not, his brother couldn't just toss out a hot piece of gossip like that without spilling it all.

"Just tell me already. I want to know how they got you. I thought there were wards around Hogwarts that would detect Death Eaters. I know for a fact that they're set further out than the lake, though." He laughed mirthlessly. "Won't Hermione be pleased to hear that I've actually picked up on some of the gibberish she keeps quoting from Hogwarts: A history?"

Charlie let out a strangled sort of whimper that made Ron's heart clench. "You alright?" he asked concernedly. "You're not about to die on me are you?"

"No," croaked Charlie. "Not from any of these wounds at least. Perhaps from a broken heart, though."

"Eh?" was Ron's unintelligent reply. "Mystery woman did a runner, did she? Did she ditch your date and then you went traipsing beyond the wards to look for her? Bloody hell, that's stupid man. You should've just owled her, or firecalled perhaps?"

"No, she showed," said Charlie in a strangled voice. "Said she had something special planned for today."

He let out a bark that Ron wasn't sure how to interpret. "Not even in my wildest dreams did I figure the special event would be a full-fledged abduction."

"Hang on! Your girlfriend betrayed you to this evil lot! Bloody hell!"

Ron's eyes were bugging out. "I got to tell you, I thought you'd have better taste in women than that. What did you go and fall for a Death Eater chick for anyway?"

Charlie didn't answer him. He was too busy staring at the opening in the circle where the massive serpent named Nagini had just slithered in.

"What are you staring at? Is he coming?" Ron craned his neck in his haste to look and gasped quite loudly when he caught eye of the small procession heading towards them.

"I guess that answers my question, then," he mumbled silently cursing the way his mouth seemed to be running away with him every time he got a bit nervous. Now that he was very panicky, he had trouble keeping it shut at all. Somehow he didn't see Voldemort appreciating this ability to any extent. Nobody did really, so why should he be any different?

Resisting the urge to keep pelting poor Charlie with questions he was sure not to know the answers to, Ron trained his attention on the party heading into the clearing. He growled menacingly when he recognised the man, no scratch that, vermin at the front.

Wormtail.

Something dark and primal inside him sprang to life at the sight and it took every ounce of will power for Ron not to pounce on the creature that had so blatantly taken advantage of his family by posing as a common rat and thus hiding from Death Eaters and the Ministry alike.

That pathetic little man was the reason why Harry had no family, he was the reason why Sirius was still considered a dangerous murderer and he was a key reason for why Voldemort had returned to body. If there was one person who deserved to die as much as You-Know-Who this was it. Ron had long ago swore to bring his former pet rat to justice and he whole-heartedly hoped today would be that day.

A shriek instantly recognised as belonging to Hermione brought Ron out of his dark musings. A quick glance towards his three companions still very much trapped in the middle of the clearing, and he understood why she was screaming.

Poor Harry, still gagged and tied up by magical ropes, was writhing around on the ground clearly in great agony. Ron could barely make out the sound of muffled screaming as he watched his best friend suffering through great pains.

Hermione did her best to sooth him but her attempts did nothing expect knock her to the ground during a particularly violent spasm. The reason soon registered as the small procession stopped a little way from the group and a tall figure stepped forward.

Voldemort.

Hermione whimpered and with an inaudible gasp she backed away from the group, stumbling to the ground next to a still serene looking Ginny. Harry continued to trash about on the ground. Ron felt an overwhelming urge to protect them flare up and was about to dash to their rescue when he felt something hold him back.

Whipping his head around he scowled at Charlie who had grabbed hold of his robes with a bloodied hand. For someone who appeared quite badly hurt he was surprisingly strong.

"Let go, you prat," he hissed angrily tugging at his robes. "I need to help them, can't you see that? Poor Harry's all tied up, Ginny's clearly not right in the head and Hermione's about to have a slight panic-attack!"

Charlie shook his head with surprising strength, and Ron suppressed the urge to deck him.

"Can't let you do that," his brother answered in a tight whisper. "If you're all together you're sitting ducks. As stupid as your little stunt of running to me was, it gave you a bit of an edge on the situation. I'm betting You-Know-Who will concentrate his attention on Harry over there, at least for a while. That gives you a chance of getting out of here and get help."

"I'm not leaving them!" Ron replied aghast.

"Then you're more stupid than I ever gave you credit for," snapped Charlie impatiently. He cast a quick look around to check that their conversation wasn't overheard. He needn't worry; every Death Eater was to busy bowing like house elves to the disfigured creature edging into the clearing.

"I'd go for help myself if weren't for the inconvenience of a broken leg."

"Your leg's broken? You didn't mention that before, you noble piece of dung!" Ron glared at his brother. Charlie smiled weakly in return.

"Didn't want to upset you," was his flip reply. Ron rolled his eyes and muttered some choice words under his breath.

Ignoring Charlie's continued urgings about making a break for it Ron turned his attention back to the scene playing out in the clearing. Wormtail had stepped aside and a tall figure clad in heavy velvet robes stepped forward.

Voldemort, Ron assumed. The assumption was confirmed a second later when the hood fell away and his face was revealed. Ron almost bit his tongue clear off in the effort not to cream out loud. It was the most hideous face he'd ever laid eyes on; he looked neither human nor beast-like but rather a mix thereof that was altogether much more frightening than any Dementor or Death Eater.

"Creepy fellow, wouldn't you say?" said Charlie off-handedly, yet Ron had no trouble detecting the fear and unease underneath the tough tone.

"I would yes," he whispered in reply never taking his eyes away from the figure. Why would anyone become something that repulsive?

Voldemort appeared to be talking but Ron was unable to hear any of it because of the distance. It didn't take long before he brandished his wand and Ron almost screamed aloud when it was pointed straight at Harry, fearing that this was it. The only thing that happed however was that his gag was removed. Clearly Voldemort felt like conversing before killing him.

Harry had stopped writhing around in agony and appeared to be alright or as alright as one could be when faced with one's mortal enemy. Speaking of Mortal Enemy, Voldemort now looked to be making introductions. The notion was as absurd as it was ridiculous but he was clearly gesturing to the cloaked figures behind him as if introducing them to an old friend. Clearly he was a bit barmy in the head, because there was no way Harry cared one way or the other who his evil henchmen were at this moment. Why Voldy would want to expose their identities anyway in case they got away was beyond Ron's comprehension. Bloody Death Eaters the lot of them, he thought agitatedly, pondering possible means of escape. All he cared about hexing them good and proper so that they could all get out of here as soon as bloody possible.

At least that was the case up until Voldemort waved his wand over the smallest of his followers and the cloak evaporated into thin air. Behind him Charlie let out what could only be described as a heartfelt sob and everything suddenly clicked into place.

"Your date?" asked Ron throatily. He was having trouble believing it, but given what Charlie had just told him and seeing the person standing before him, how else could it be interpreted.

Charlie nodded numbly.

"Fleur?" asked Ron again, still unable to phantom how someone as lovely as Fleur Delacour could be a Death Eater, and perhaps even more astonishing, date a Weasley.. Yet there she stood, right next to the most feared wizard of all time.

"Yeah," was Charlie's miserable answer. "I never once suspected... I mean, I thought it a bit odd at first that someone as classy and beautiful might be interested in plain old me, but after a while I stopped wondering. I guess that was part of her plan, to lure me into believing her so that when the time was right it would be easy to abduct me."

He let out a hollow bark of a laugh. "A bullet proof plan, if there ever was one it turned out to. God I'm stupid."

Ron was too stunned to think of anything to say to that. His mind was still reeling with the notion that Fleur Delacour; a woman he'd been drooling over (albeit somewhat reluctantly given her Veela background) was consorting with this lot. They'd never even considered her as a possible betrayer, and thinking back Ron felt like smacking himself in the head for their negligence.

He needed to get closer to them. He wanted to hear whatever it was Voldemort felt so important that he was postponing what surely was his ultimate goal, namely killing Harry.

Ignoring Charlie's furious whispers Ron began skulking along the edge of the clearing. About twenty-three and a half feet into his master plan he trod on a troublesome branch, which promptly snapped in half with a most unwelcome crack.

Cursing under his breath about the unfairness of being wandless had no effect because next moment he was seized by the scruff of his robes and quite literally hurled into the clearing. He landed rather painfully next to a still-bound Harry. Ron didn't know what to be more disgusted by; the trail of troll-saliva adorning his robes or the sight of Voldemort up close. He soon concluded that he'd happily bathe in troll-excrements on a daily basis than be this close to that creature.

Thankfully the horror that was You-Know-Who was soon blocked by a mass of wild curls as Hermione pounced on him.

"Ron," she cried sounding all panicky. She clung to him with surprising force and while he normally encouraged clinging in any form, this was not the best time to be weighed down by a distraught girlfriend. Not that he really knew per say that she was his girlfriend, but if he ever lived through this ordeal Ron vowed to make sure she agreed to it.

"I'm alright," he wheezed although clearly he wasn't. The landing had been quite painful on his behind and his leg was still throbbing.

"Get a hold of yourself, love," he whispered in what he dearly hoped was an encouraging sort of voice. "We need our wits about us, you know." Hermione nodded tearfully and Ron turned to give Harry a weak smile.

"Alright there, mate?" he asked and watched as Harry attempted to shrug.

"I suppose," was his flip reply, "if you disregard the pack of idiots hanging about."

Ron couldn't help it; he guffawed. It wasn't overly funny or anything but somehow it seemed natural to do so. Not everyone appreciated the humour, though...

"Ah," said a calm yet horrifyingly chilling voice. "The last of the Great Four have joined us at last I see."

Mustering all his courage Ron turned to look at Voldemort. He had to bite his tongue not to flinch at the sight. Harry had been right: he wasn't much of a looker.

"The real Weasley, I presume," he continued silkily though it was quite clear that he was anything but pleased. Ron watched as Wormtail flinched, bowed his head and began stuttering incoherently like the pathetic rodent he really was. Serves him right, the two-timing prick thought Ron vindictively half-heartedly hoping Voldemort would hex the bastard.

Next to Wormtail Fleur was standing quite still looking for all purposes lost to the world. She was staring into thin air and didn't seem to pay the slightest attention to what was going on around her. In fact her eyes looked rather glazed, like she'd inhaled too many brain-addling fumes in the potions lab or something.

Ron had never been able to resist ogling the French woman and despite the seriousness of their predicament, he once again found himself oddly mesmerised by the beauty. And as he continued to stare at her he started to notice something in her eyes. They were flicking to and fro, unfocused at first but slowly it was as if she was waking up. Ron didn't know how else do describe it, but it was highly fascinating. He vaguely registered Harry demanding to know what Voldemort meant by him being the real Weasley and didn't quite tune into the conversation before his name was mentioned a second time.

"...telling me that you intended to abduct Ron and not Charlie?"

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "How did you manage to butch that one up? Aside from the hair they're nothing alike, are they? One's a teacher and almost eight years the senior, stocky and muscled the other one tall and lean? Do your Death Eaters need spectacles by any means?"

If Voldemort was provoked by Harry's flip attitude he was doing a remarkable job of hiding it. But still something of the things he's said must've gotten to him. Why else would the most feared sorcerer of modern times spend time explaining what he obviously felt was an ingenious scheme? Ron couldn't help but gape open-mouthed as the shell shocking scene played out in front of him.

Now, Ron understood that Old You-Know was pretty certain that they'd all be dead in a few minutes, something that by the state of things was a most feasible scenario indeed. Still it seemed a bit odd, this weird sort of heart to heart. But at least this bought them a bit more time, something they desperately needed because as of yet no real plan had been hatched to secure their escape.

"I agree, Harry," said Voldemort conversationally. "The Weasley brothers are very distinctly different and it is therefore quite a mystery to me how this mistake came about. Still the result is the same, so I shouldn't really complain."

He paused and let his snake-like eyes glide from Harry to Wormtail's twitching form.

"But then again, this is still a failure to correctly comply with my orders."

His slit-like nostrils flared dangerously making Wormtail let out a pathetic whimper.

"My instructions clearly asked for the capture of Ronald Weasley. Wormtail, please explain why it is that my orders were not explicitly followed?"

Wormtail was shaking like a leaf in high wind, his eyes betraying genuine fear. Ron revelled in the sight.

"I d-don't rightly know, M-m-master," he croaked unconvincingly earning a snort from the still hooded Death Eaters standing behind the Dark Lord.

"Don't lie to me, servant," snapped Voldemort his calm and controlled demeanour gone in a matter of seconds. His voice dripped venom.

"It is unwise to attempt to mislead me with falsehood, surely you know this," he added softly, suddenly back to being bone-chillingly calm.

Wormtail was wringing his hands nervously, still unable to look his master in the eye.

"M-master, I carefully instructed Miss Delacour to seek out Ronald Weasley. It was my assignment; I did as I was told, master!"

"Is that so? Let's ask Ms. Delacour, shall we? Delacour, what were your instructions?"

Fleur twitched noticeably when addressed and Ron watched with mouthing interest the emotions, or rather distinct lack thereof, playing over her face. There was something - blank - about her today as if she was under a spell or -.

Eureka!

That was it! Ron suppressed the urge to cry out in amazement at his own realization. He felt Hermione's hand tensing on his arm and a quick look at her face told him she'd reached the same conclusion. Charlie would be pleased, he thought absentmindedly as he waited for his brother's love interest to respond to the request.

"I was instructed to pay extra attention to Weasley," began Fleur in an oddly flat voice so utterly different from her normal almost melodious accent.

"More specifically not the twin brothers and not the girl. I was to use my powers if necessary, but the most important thing was to gain his unquestionable trust."

"Well, well, well my little rodent," began Voldemort silkily his red eyes staring unflinchingly at the trembling man.

"I think I spot your first error. You didn't think to inform our infiltrator about the full name of her assigned victim. It's common knowledge that there are more Weasleys than lice in this country, something you should have first hand experience with considering you hid with them for close to twelve years. How do you explain this?"

"Well, I. Eh, that is... eh." Wormtail was slowly drowning in his own inability to explain himself. Ron found it a fitting punishment.

"P-please m-master," he began pleadingly, his head bowed almost to the ground in shame. "I didn't think it likely for more Weasleys to come to Hogwarts this year. N-none of them have ever struck me as teacher-material after all. An honest mistake, I assure you."

"A foolish mistake more likely," hissed Voldemort threateningly causing Wormtail to whimper. "Rest assured you will be appropriately punished at a later time for this serious violation of orders. Presently however I am more concerned with the news of your repeated visits to the school throughout the year. Why was I not informed of this?"

Wormtail flinched visibly and began twitching like a creature struck by lightening.

"My trusted Death Eater here," he gestured to the hooded figure behind him," has just informed me of these little excursions and I must confess I'm rather curious to hear you explain the purpose behind them."

"That's the one!" someone hissed behind him.

Ron's head snapped to look at Harry. "What?" he mouthed soundlessly, hoping to avoid drawing unwanted attention to them selves?

"The betrayer!" mouthed Harry back his face showing a multitude of emotions ranging from pure fear to hurt and apprehension. Ron felt Hermione's hand clutch rather painfully at his arm and he knew that she'd caught their little exchange.

"You sure?" mouthed Ron and wasn't the least bit surprised when Harry rolled his eyes at him.

"Of course I am," was the curt response. "I've bloody dreamt about this figure for Merlin knows how many times. It's the one!"

Swallowing hard Ron turned to get a closer look at the person who'd been the bane of their existence this past year. Average height, average build, perhaps a bit on the scrawny side. Prim brown shoes, highly polished. Standard black robes, creepy Death Eater mask. No, there was no way of telling who this was without removing the mask.

Cursing silently Ron tuned his attention back to the exchange still going between a clearly incensed Dark Lord and an equally distraught Wormtail.

"...sneak in to re-cast the Imperius on Ms. Delacour? This clearly goes to show how poor a wizard you really are, Wormtail," tutted Voldemort condescendingly.

The betrayer sniggered maliciously and for a fleeting second Ron felt like he almost had it. There was something familiar about the veiled stranger but try as he might it wouldn't come to him. His brain simply refused to connect the dots.

"S-s-she was fighting the Curse, m-master," wailed Wormtail miserably. "How was I to know she had such a strong will? It's very uncommon, My Lord to show such resilience to the Imperius.!"

"He has a point, Master," said the masked stranger. "All things considered he should be honoured for his initiative to monitor Ms. Delacour and thus making sure she remained under the Curse."

"As always you have a point," agreed the Dark Lord somewhat reluctantly. "The result is still the same although not achieved exactly as I had envisioned it. Nevertheless we now have Potter at our mercy."

Gesturing for Wormtail to get out the way Voldemort walked slowly towards the spot were Harry (still heavily bound), Ron, Hermione and the trance-like Ginny were huddled together.

"Ah, Potter and his entourage," he mocked silkily, twirling his wand lazily between his long, pale fingers.

"It's nice to finally meet the whole gang so to speak." His eyes travelled from Harry to Hermione.

"The infamous Mudblood, I presume." He smiled evilly. "My faithful informant informs me that you're the brightest student to attend Hogwarts for quite some time. Just such a pity your blood makes you unsuitable to our world. We do not need filth like you to contaminate our already soiled bloodlines. You will be disposed of, of course. But first we'll teach you a thing or two about pain."

Sensing what was about to happen, Ron flung himself in front of Hermione only to find that he was a split second too late.

"Crucio!"

The curse hit her with amazing force and Hermione was propelled several meters back. She hit the ground with a dull thud and then the screaming started...

She was writhing, thrashing, curling, kicking and screaming such soul-shattering screams that Ron was certain she was about to die at any moment. Without a second thought he rushed to her and threw himself down by her side desperate to do something, anything to stop her agony.

Ron tried everything he could think off: Pleading with her, physically holding her down, Enervate, pouring water over her face from the tip of his wand but naturally nothing helped in the slightest. Nothing really did a fact he knew but refused to accept. Unforgivables were merciless; only the original caster could perform a counter-curse.

As he continued his struggle to break the curse Ron heard Voldemort laughing that cold laugh of his that Harry had often talked about. He wasn't even aware that he was crying and pleading for him to make it stop before Voldemort suddenly flicked his wand at Hermione's thrashing frame. Next the screaming stopped. Ron quickly scooted the sobbing Hermione into his lap, cradling her to him.

"How touching," drawled the Dark Lord mockingly as he slowly circled the four friends. "So the rumours about the Weasleys being Blood traitors and Mudblood-loving bastards are all true I see." He tutted.

"Such a pity really. A fine old line of Purebloods your family is, or at least up until a few generations ago. Your great grandfather Wilhelm Weasley was notoriously known for his firm belief in the purification of bloodlines. Since his days however things have taken a bit of a plunge I'd say, but every once in a while even the purest can go strolling down the wrong path. A pity really," he added in a tone that sent chills cascading down Ron's spine. "But redemption is a popular subject to me. I might still find the Weasleys return to my way of thinking." He laughed spitefully.

"You fucking bastard," hissed Ron through clenched teeth. Hermione was still trembling violently, and he didn't want to cause her extra distress but he just couldn't help himself.

"We'll never to any such thing! And besides, Harry's told me you're nothing but a Half-Blood yourself. You're hardly one to pass judgement on others then wouldn't you say?"

"Telling falsehood will earn you no favours with me, Weasley," was Voldmort's curt reply but Ron could've sworn he saw several of the Death Eaters surrounding them stir slightly at this news.

The seed of doubt has been sawn, he thought gleefully. Harry grinned broadly at him and for a brief second Ron was filled with optimism. They'd wiggle out of this mess, surely!

The boot of optimism lasted roughly three seconds before things literally came crashing down.

The shadow falling over them caught Ron totally off guard and he's barely time to register Hermione's ear-splitting shriek before something thumped him across the back. Rolling over in pain Ron couldn't help but stare agog at the mountain troll that had astonishingly enough managed to sneak up on them. A mountain troll!? Using stealth? Somehow he suspects there might be magic involved, because honestly no mountain troll had ever possess the ability to pussyfoot! Not that it matters much anyway, because next the troll had dumped a lump soon identified as Charlie in their midst.

Ron's optimism plunged to his toes. They needed a bloody miracle and they needed it now!

xXx

Professor Weasley really wasn't looking too good. The fact that he appeared to be dropping in and out of consciousness was hardly uplifting if any of the books on healing she'd read was anything to go by.

For what must surely be the fiftieth time in the last hour alone, Hermione felt a most unwelcome panic-attack coming her way. Sweaty palms, quickening heartbeats, symptoms of hyperventilation - oh yeah, she was definitely freaking out!

Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths, she tried desperately to remember something, anything even remotely useful from her mother's latest Yoga video.

Recalling something about niyama and asana whatever that might be Hermione slowly felt the panic lessening somewhat. Encouraged by this she forced her mind to block out the last shreds of nervous energy. She couldn't give into this, not now! She wouldn't! They needed her, she knew that. Harry might be brave beyond his years and Ron grudgingly did have a good eye for strategy and stuff, but without her detailed knowledge; without her brain really, they'd be at a distinct disadvantage. So there, that settled the matter: She needed to reclaim control over her own body and mind!

Feeling a teensy bit more in control Hermione scanned the scene around her that up until just a few seconds ago had been nothing but a blur to her. She was relived to discover that nothing substantial has happened during her little "fit".

That said the situation was far from ideal. Panic was in fact a reasonable response she concluded as she mentally summed up the horrible mess they were in: Captured by vicious Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest; having stupidly failed to inform a soul where they were heading, Harry tied up, Professor Weasley seriously injured, Professor Delacour turned traitor and perhaps most disturbing of all having the most feared dark sorcerer of the time just feet away from them.

In all honesty it was quite remarkable that she was this collected; a notion not particularly reassuring. Hermione cursed inwardly as she felt her newly achieved calm start to crack. This is so not on, Granger she screamed silently and a few strenuous moments later Hermione had managed to regain a sense of control, though it was decidedly fragile.

Voldemort was talking again and she had a distinct feeling that she should be paying attention. It was hard though, trying to listen, think and maintain her cool at the same time. The after-effects of the Crucatius were still noticeable in sharp pains that would come and go at odd intervals. She felt like screaming with frustration.

Hermione hated it with a vengeance but there was no other way around it other than to admit it: She was not especially proficient at this action-bit of their lives. In fact she was damn near awful, boarding on ghastly even and seeing as Hermione detests anything not being a strong point, one could only begin to imagine her opinion on the current situation.

Ron would laugh his head off if he knew, Hermione realized. Git, she thought affectionately but all warm-fuzzy notions of said Weasley was soon forgotten when her eyes once again land on Professor Weasley.

She watched Charlie painfully attempting to scramble into a sitting position and winced in sympathy. In the end he gave up and collapsed bonelessly on the ground.

Hermione quickly assessed the situation: Harry was still tied up, Ron the bloody hot-headed idiot looked twitchy something that only meant that he couldn't be trusted not to do something rash at any moment. And Ginny! Hermione cast the youngest Weasley a quick look only to realize that she was still sitting cross-legged like a female Buddah looking somewhat detached from the whole situation. In short; their chances of escape wasn't all that good.

This conclusion did nothing to enhance her calm and Hermione knew she needed something to focus on. A task, something specific to fuel her energy and thoughts in order to hinder her mind and nerves joining forces and staging a full-out break-down. Merlin knew they were in enough trouble without her adding to it.

Charlie was the obvious solution and soon Hermione found herself kneeling in front of him, her hands moving methodically over his body, searching for injuries. Her mind was already conjuring up a mental list of possible Healing Charms she might need. Charlie however was not ready to play docile patient.

He swatted at her hands and muttered something undoubtedly rude and for a brief moment Hermione's mind was convinced it was Ron she's treating and not his brother. Secretly relieved Hermione couldn't help feeling horribly guilty. Silently berating herself for wasting precious energy on thoughts like that she force her attention back to her healing. But it's of little use; she's Hermione Granger and aside from studying, worrying and thinking is what she does. That and lecture others.

"Ouch, stop fussing Hermione, I'm alright," grumbles Charlie trying to squirm away from her.

"You're not alright," snapped Hermione moving her hands business-like over his bloodied and obviously broken leg. "This needs treatment and soon. I really don't like the colour of this leg."

"Leave my leg alone. And there's nothing wrong with the colour of it either! Argh, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to stop the bleeding."

"You're ripping my jeans to shreds, that's what you're doing!"

Hermione harrumphed. "They were hardly in pristine order to begin with and I doubt you'll ever get them clean again. Now if you could just sit still..."

"Oh, just stop whining Charlie and let her get on with it," said Ron fighting a smile. "She won't stop anyway, take it from someone who's tried and failed for years."

"Ronald," chided Hermione warningly. "Don't-"

For a few minutes Ron has actually managed to block out the fact that they are in fact captured by Death Eaters. It's the Hermione-effect, he knows and it's right scary at times.

But the spell is broken when Voldemort clears his throat importantly commanding their attention. Ron's astonished that You-know-who has allowed them to prattle on like this without repercussions but one look at the creature in front of him tells him this phase is over. Gulping audibly he reached blindly for Hermione's hand. Her palms are sweaty and he can feel her pulse at her wrist beating a mile a minute.

The clearing is drenched in silence. The air is crackling with magic, fear, anticipation.

"I would very much like," begins Voldemort quietly. His voice is nothing but a mere whisper yet still there's not a soul among them not listening intently; fearfully.

"For you all to bear witness to one finally introduction before I shall, with great pleasure I might add, proceed to rid the world of Harry Potter and his pathetic little band of misfits."

Harry growls next to him and Hermione whimpers softly. Voldemort's hand beckons to the figure Harry's just identified as the betrayer from his dreams and he instantly steps forwards with long confident strides. Watching the masked Death Eater strut towards his master, a strange sense of foreboding spreads through Ron. Something is prickling his mind, almost as if there's a clue here somewhere that he's missed.

Brazing himself for the coming revelation Ron squeezes Hermione's hand in an attempt to calm her. He can feel her panicking and knowing that any minute now a formally trusted ally will be exposed as foe and he's far from calm himself.

Another friendly face. As if Fleur's deceit wasn't enough!

"Reveal yourself, humble servant!" commands Voldemort with ill-concealed glee. The masked man bows deeply and as the hood slowly falls away and the mask is lowered Ron feel his insides being ripped to pieces and his existence shattered to the core. Rage as he's never before experienced flares up inside as if his heart has just spontaneously combusted.

He is seeing red.

And then he attacks.