The Phoenix and the Serpent

The Phoenix and the Serpent

The entire Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. Any original characters belong to the author and may not be used without permission.

Chapter XVI: Battlecry

Daniel raised his arms high over his head. The incandescent ribbon of lightning connecting his wands blazed in his eyes. He felt no fear, no hesitation. Only a bottomless rage and the self-same joy he found in every battle.

The Death Eaters below him were finally reacting, turning the business ends of their wands on him. Too little, too late, too bad. He flung down his arms as if he were hurling spears, and fingers of electricity lunged at the men before him. They instinctively dodged, but to their surprise the bolts flew over their heads, discharging on the trees behind them. Seizing his opening, Daniel leaped forward, sliding down the steep slope into the fray.

Slowly, careful not to tread on anything that may lead to a clue, Magnus picked his way up the slope of the ridge. To his right lay the edge to another dense forest, two miles south of Dunwick village. To his left lay the crevice his platoon had just circumvented. And all around him, the aftermath of a recent battle.

Magnus had known battles all his life. He was born in Ravenhome, the place where the wizarding society dumped its dregs. His family moved there at the end of the war, after his grandfather, a rabid supporter of Grindelwald, was banished from the protective circle of nobility. His mother used to tell him his birth alone was a fight for survival. "You're bred for a warrior's life," she said, "and a warrior's fate awaits you." It was the only prophecy she'd ever made, but it was accurate. His passage from boyhood to adulthood had been rife with struggle, from the day-to-day drudgery of getting enough to eat to the intermittent fight for the right to keep it. And whereas the rest of his family withered and died in Ravenhome, Magnus flourished. When he turned ten he became a thief. At fourteen, he became a murderer. His victim was a local hood who threatened to turn him in if he didn't pay a monthly tribute levied on local businessmen. Magnus's answer was a blast from an unregistered wand one dark night in a deserted alley. He ran for a month, until the Hit-Wizards captured him as he tried to get on a boat to France. Right then, Magnus learned that a life without strength was not worth living.

It was during the hearings at the Ministry that Lucius Malfoy, a distant uncle he'd never met, took an interest in him. Malfoy exerted his considerable influence to have the charges against the boy dropped. He took him under his wing, providing shelter, a job, and a tutor. Magnus had wondered about this generosity and what lay at the end of it. He found out some years later, when Malfoy recruited him as a Death Eater. And in Lord Voldermort's shadow, he found a measure of power, and the "warrior's fate" his mother had promised.

Yet while Magnus owed his life to his uncle for picking him up and educating him, he owed his soul to the streets, where learned his most valuable lesson: the strong live; fools die.

From what he was seeing, the fighting strength of his quarry was...notable.

The Death Eaters had recovered quickly--they seemed better trained than most he'd met before. Daniel had not even reached halfway down the slope when they began flinging curses at him. But he was ready. Bands of white energy radiated, iris-like, from the tips of his wands. The twin Wandshields caught the first barrage with ease. A quick swing of his left shield batted one curse towards a tree. He switched it back front as he knocked another curse aside with his right. The curse struck a nearby rock, blasting a crater on its side. Daniel did not even slow down.

It was time to show these amateurs how he earned the nickname 'Caracal.'

Magnus raised his eyes from the spot he had been examining and looked back. There at the bottom, some of his men were tending to their fallen comrades. They avoided the cliff itself, which he warned was cursed. The rest of them remained outside the perimeter, to facilitate his study of the grounds. He did not need to ask them to do this. They knew how he worked, and he had trained them well.

They had found five survivors from their side. Magnus had also trained these men. Singly, each one was a competent fighter. Together, they were a terrifying force. But he had found them knocked unconscious, magically bound, and sporting severe burns and broken bones. No fatal injuries, but he would not count them fortunate yet. Not until Lord Voldemort has had his say.

Among his men lay a corpse--dead from a Killing Curse, apparently. They had not yet ascertained his identity, and he did not bear the Dark Mark that meant he was one of theirs. A bait, perhaps, to lure out the enemy? He would have to ask Captain Cruniac when he finally came to.

Magnus returned his attention to the grass near his feet and traced the outline of footprint in the soft soil. The print carried a peculiar mark. The owner wore Darrolli soft shoes, the type favored in combat. Clearly, the man was a Duelist.

Daniel knocked another curse aside as he neared the bottom of the slope, but another one came hurtling towards him: a ball of green fire that screamed through the air like a burning banshee. Still sliding, Daniel dropped to a crouch, left leg stretched before him, right leg bent and taking his weight. He brought one Wandshield up to protect his front and the other directly over his head. The fireball skipped over this Wandshield like a stone over water, exploding on the ground far behind him. He felt the spray of hot dirt on his back and ignored it. Finally skidding to the bottom, Daniel tensed his legs and leaped.

Magnus's sharp eyes caught each blast mark on the trees and surrounding ground. Nine curses, all deflected. He wondered how the Duelist had been able to defend so well against so many at once. It was impossible. No, not impossible, he corrected himself, merely improbable. It would take some kind of Grand Wizardry, some powerful protective spell...

Unless he used two wands. A Duelist and a Duomancer?

He turned his attention back to the ground near his feet. Then, eyes still on skid marks, he stood and made his way down the slope.

"He slid until here," he murmured, eyeing a spot on the grass. "Then he leaped over the line of rocks...landing there. While in the air, he cast the curse that took out Danno." Magnus glanced at the unconscious Death Eater lying near the bottom. "But why did he jump there? Why didn't he press the attack? With Danno and the rocks between him and the rest of his enemies, he was in a perfect defensive position..."

He leaped over the rocks, landing near the spot where the tracks began again. He bent on one knee to study the indentations on the grass, and smiled in understanding.

Daniel vaulted over the row of stones, left knee close to his chest, right leg stretched behind him. He hardly had to look or think; his wands simply dropped the shields, pointed to the closest Death Eater, and fired a Disarming Spell. Twin bolts of red energy slammed into his opponent's chest and forehead, throwing him to the ground. Daniel landed on his side, curled into a roll and stopped on his knees before Harry. Instantly he raised his Wandshields again, even as another volley of curses came at them. He beat them aside, shouting, "Take cover behind that log! I can't fight and protect you at the same time!"

His choice of action was revealing. No Duelist would abandon an advantage in a fight without good cause. His companion was obviously someone he was forced to protect. Perhaps someone important.

Magnus followed the tracks, mentally charting his adversary's steps around the battlefield. "After his companion had reached safety, he ran here, deflecting the curses towards Sutter, who, the given position he is lying in now, attempted to run--"

Dodge, don't run from a curse, Daniel mentally admonished as the Death Eater collapsed, his arms and legs seizing up. Another Death Eater charged forward, wand glowing green. Daniel read him instantly: a Killing Curse at close range, so he couldn't dodge. The moment the Death Eater pointed his wand, Daniel took a half-step back and dove to the right. A green blaze exploded behind him, accompanied by a rushing wind. Daniel rolled to his feet--

--and returned fire. Brogan went down."

Magnus did not take his eyes of the prints for a second. "His footwork indicates a wand technique. Moving quickly around his opponents, keeping them in curve of a semi-circle...the Crescent Moon style."

He stopped, staring at a mixture of tracks near the end. "He took down Blackthorn here..."

This Death Eater showed some promise. He was casting curses in succession so quickly Daniel kept busy blocking with both his Wandshields. Daniel dropped his left shield, pushed his left wand through his right shield, and fired beneath the angle of his opponent's spells. The curse struck the Death Eater's unprotected belly and he double over in sudden agony...

"The burn on along the grass...the angle was precise, and he moved without hesitation. He two steps forward, he finally turned fire at Captain Cruniac..."

The leader of the Death Eaters was not going to run; Daniel saw this from the look in his eyes. He raised his two wands, and a ribbon of lightning connected them once more. His scarf billowed as a blast of heated air surged around him like a small tornado. Twin spheres of electricity emerged from Daniel's wands. The man's eyes widened as the sphere grew bigger and brighter, crackling with power.

"Give up," said Daniel. "You're more useful to me awake on your feet than flat on your back."

"The hell you say!" cried his opponent. "I'll fight you till the end!" He conjured a wide Wandshield, readying himself to counterattack.

Daniel smiled. "You're a man after my own heart."

"The shield could not take the stress of the spell," said Magnus, touching the singed grass surrounding the fallen captain. "Cruniac went down."

The rustling of robe from his left. "Captain Aragon?"

He looked up to see his subordinate standing beside him. "Lieutenant Vaughn. You have something to report?"

"Sir, look at this," said Vaughn, reaching something out to Magnus. It was badge bearing the insignia of the Ministry of Magic. "Each of the five were wearing these around their necks. What could it mean, sir?"

Magnus took it, retrieved his wand from his belt, and lightly tapped the badge. It glowed blue for an instant. "This is a pass issued by the Ministry," he answered. "It has a particular function. If you had to guess what that is, what would be your guess?"

"Well...I'd say it allows the bearer to Apparate within the confines of the Black Barrier."

"Correct, Lieutenant."

"But those badges are only given by the Law Enforcement branch to Hit-Wizards! How could these men...unless...they had been assigned to that foreigner, Andros Gallowbraid!"

Magnus nodded. Being in control of the Minister had allowed Gallowbraid access to enemy resources. He was not the least bit surprised of Gallowbraid's meddling. He knew the old man's spiteful nature all too well. But once again, Gallowbraid's plan had failed, probably because he relied too heavily on underlings. Another of his weaknesses.

Magnus pocketed the badge, as it may prove useful later. He was about to return to studying the tracks when a movement to his left caught his attention. His man tending to Cruniac was signaling to him.

"Sir! He's come to!"

At last, some answers. Leaving Vaughn to look for more clues, Magnus strode towards the captain's prone form. Cruniac lay flat on his back on the dry grass. The fingers of his left hand twitched, as if beckoning.

Magnus bent on one knee. "Captain Cruniac. What happened here?"

Cruniac tilted up his chin in an effort to be heard. "S-sir...forgive us..." he gasped, "Gallowbraid's orders..."

"I know, Captain. Rest assured, from now on you will take no orders from him."

The crease on Cruniac's brow eased as he heard this. "Thank you sir...Lord Voldemort's merciful...compared to that monster."

"You were after three men?" Magnus asked.

Cruniac nodded weakly. "We took down...the Auror, Alastor Moody...badly hurt...but we were surprised...third man."

"Who is the corpse?"

Cruniac shut his eyes, concentrating on his words. "Winterwake...agent of the Phoenix. Stationed in Dunwick... Gallowbraid knew about him...our captive...used Mesmery on him..."

More underhanded tricks, Magnus thought with disdain. The fool takes no pride on direct combat.

Cruniac's voice sank to muttering. He was starting to lose consciousness again. Magnus bent closer that to hear him whisper.

"Sir...six of us...Irian..."

Magnus's eyes narrowed. "Six? Irian was with you? Where is he? Captured?"

Cruniac did not respond. His head lolled and his eyes fluttered shut. Magnus straightened up, and noticed that the index finger of Cruniac's right hand stretched out towards the cliff.

Magnus reached the edge of the crevice in six long strides. There were tracks here he hadn't noticed yet--crushed grass, broken soil...the telltale signs of a struggle. He came to the edge and peered over.

The chasm yawned before him, and the slanted afternoon light made it difficult to see the bottom. But his eyes soon adjusted...and he was satisfied.

"Lieutenant Vaughn?" he called.

"Sir?"

"Gather the men. We'll follow the tracks into the woods. Put the injured on stretchers and carry them."

"What about the--"

"Leave the corpse. Better yet, booby-trap it. We'll know if we're being followed."

"Good idea, sir. We're on it."

Magnus nodded, never looking away from the gorge. There at the bottom, difficult to make out at first because of his black robe, lay Irian. His face was a tiny bloodied oval, staring mutely up into the light. Irian had been one of their early recruits, a driven man, eager to learn the Dark Arts. He had also been sullen and secretive, given to volcanic displays temper when goaded. It made him unsuitable for leadership.

But he was one of us, thought Magnus, and he will be avenged. The ones responsible for this had no hope of running or hiding, not with one of them injured and the other diseased. He would find them even if he had to part the grasses from their roots. For vengeance, and for the glory of his lord.

He turned to leave, as he did so, the wind sighed in his ear.

"Your life is meaningless."

Magnus halted. He turned his head, slowly, to look once more into the void.

"Is that it?" he whispered. "Is that the great lie of my heart? That is what is supposed to break me?"

He turned fully to face the gorge, as if he were meeting an enemy. "I know of you. My grandfather died for Grindelwald, the man you had once made your puppet. You fed on his dreams and ate his Auror heart till there was nothing left but hatred and madness. And in the years that followed, he caused my family nothing but grief.

"And now you wish to feast on my dreams, on my sanity? I will not permit it. I am my own master. And you are not even a specter, less than the meanest ghost. You do not have even the dream of power. Your lies mean nothing to me. You are nothing."

The wind gave no reply. But a moment later, Magnus heard a quiet shivering in the air, like the chuckling of a very old man. He paid it no heed, and turned about to follow his men into the forest.

---

"Well?"

"They're finally on the move. Which means it's time we got moving too." Sirius squinted through his spyglass. "Damn it, looks like they're booby-trapping the body. Unfortunately we'll won't be able to do our own investigation."

"They know, don't they? About Harry?"

Sirius looked down at Remus from his vantage point on the tree. "What else would they be out here for, a picnic? My guess is that battle scene's the handiwork of Mad-Eye and Daniel Oaks. Looks like they got away, but with that Death Eater platoon behind them, they won't be safe for long. I intend to do something about that." He swung down from the tree branch to land beside Remus. "We'll shadow the Death Eaters from a distance of 50 yards. Then, once they've let their guard down, we'll take out the competition."

"Brilliant plan, sir," replied Remus, "assuming a) we manage to catch up once we get around this gorge, b) we can trail them without being detected and c) we don't run into any of their reinforcements along the way."

Sirius flashed a grin. "Honestly, Remus, when did you get so pessimistic? There's 20 of them and 35 of us. And if we come at them from behind, I don't think they'll have a snowball's chance in--"

Coven interrupted their conversation by popping his head out from the bush, one hand in a clumsy salute. "Our troops are ready to move out, sirs!" he called cheerily.

Remus cocked an eyebrow, and Sirius gave the boy a look. "If you want to stay alive," he hissed, "you'd do well to keep your voice down. And since when did we promote you to lieutenant?"

"Er, well..." Coven reddened, and his head reminded Remus of a very large cherry. "I just thought I'd be more useful in such a position, sir, than, being, you know, just the Medi-Wizard."

"Don't quit your day job," advised Remus. "Where Sirius goes, injuries are quick to follow."

"Forget that," grumbled Sirius. He turned and signaled to his men. "We're moving out!"

---

Hugging his knees to his chest, Harry leaned against the fallen tree trunk and watched as Danny tended to his godfather. The elder boy bent over Moody, one ear close to the Auror's mouth and a palm splayed over his chest feeling for his heartbeat. Sweat pasted his corn-colored hair to his forehead; his brow was creased in concentration as he listened. Moody still did not move. Harry could not tell if he was breathing, and his face was now a bluish hue, save for a frightening pale ring around his mouth. But Danny still hovered over him, whispering encouraging words.

Exhausted as he was, Harry knew that Danny was more tired still. He had carried his godfather on his back throughout the mile long trek. He did not once stop to rest the whole long way, while Harry panted behind him, struggling to keep him in sight. Leaning on a stick he had picked up, he trailed Danny through the dense forest, slipping under fallen logs, past the slanting afternoon light, springing across boulders, and finally up a small hill to this little hollow surround by a ring of low trees. Here they finally stopped. Danny had all this time been moving with a deer-like wariness, watching their flanks for danger. It was only now that Harry realized that he had also been on the look out for a good campsite, and his instincts had led him right to this place. After setting Moody down he backtracked a little and removed traces of their passage with an Obliteration Charm. Remarkable work, if Harry had been inclined to judge it. He was, however, past caring.

He hugged himself tighter, as if to block out a chill. If he could, he would take out the part of his brain that held memories and wash it out in the nearby stream, wash it clean of the things he'd seen just a few hours ago. If only...

"Alive," said Danny, breaking the surface of his thoughts. "Bad shape, but still hanging on, by Rowena. We're not out of the running yet." He got up, and it was perhaps the expression on Harry's face that made him ask, "Hey. You all right?"

Harry said nothing. Danny's footfalls signaled his approach, but Harry looked away. What was he supposed to say, anyway? I'm just fine and dandy, thanks?

Danny stood there, watching him for a moment, then strode to Moody's trunk. He opened it and briskly started picking up some equipment. "I did what I had to do," he muttered after a long silence. "And so did you."

---

Danny rolled towards him and stopped in a crouch, facing the Death Eaters. Harry was still lying on his front, stunned the suddenness of the events. But a barrage of curses from the Death Eaters quickly brought him to his senses. He instinctively brought up his arm, but the curses ricocheted from Danny's twin Wandshields. Some of them scattered into several streams of magical energy as they struck the translucent barriers. Danny was fending them off well, but Harry noticed that the force of the attacks was starting to push him back.

Danny shouted something over the din that Harry didn't quite make out. "What?" he shouted back.

"Are you deaf?" screamed Danny. "Take cover behind the log! I can't deal with them if I have to keep protecting you!" He tilted his arm and a wand dropped from his sleeve, which Harry recognized as Moody's. He grabbed it and, still keeping low, crawled to the log directly behind them. Reaching it, he peered over the brittle bark at the battle scene.

Danny had sped off to the side to draw their fire. He did not notice, however, the lone Death Eater who had climbed over the line of rocks and was making his way up the ridge. Towards Mad-Eye. It's Irian, Harry realized. Irian, who lusted for the Auror's life beyond all reason.

A cold fury welled up in Harry's chest as he remembered Moody's torture. He forgot about Danny and the battle raging before him; he was not going to let this man complete that abominable act. Harry raised Moody's wand, took careful aim--

"LOCOMOTOR MORTIS!"

His spell ripped through the air and struck the small of Irian's back. The shocked Death Eater found he could no longer use his legs. He pitched forward into the sod. Attempting to push himself to his feet, he overcompensated and promptly lost his balance. His arms pinwheeled through the air for a moment before he toppled, head over heels, to the bottom of the slope.

Harry grinned in satisfaction. He was about to turn his attention back to Danny when Irian got back to his feet. Teeth bared, forehead cut and bleeding, he pointed the wand at himself and shouted, "Finite!"

Eyes glittering, Irian leaped over the rocks. He approached the log from the side, affording Harry no cover. Harry raised his wand to defend himself, but the Death Eater was faster.

"Verdimillous!"

The shock of the spell tore the wand from Harry's hand and threw him bodily into the air. He landed full on his back, gasping at the pain. Pushing himself onto his elbows, he saw Irian close in, wand pointed straight at him.

"You want to die?" he asked, smiling. The scar on the corner of his mouth split wide like a second grin. Harry felt terror clutch at him. He crawled backwards on his elbows; reaching his wand was his only hope.

"You really want to die?" Irian advanced, the savage grin widening. "I'll oblige you, brat. I'll relish eating your death!" The end of his wand flashed a noxious green.

Then two things happened at once. First, Harry's hand closed over something as he was backing away--a sharp piece of rock. Second, a stray curse, deflected by Danny's Wanshield, struck the log Irian was standing next to. A spray of splinters forced him to shield his face with his arm.

Harry did not have to think. Gripping the rock, he raised his arm and threw it with desperate strength. The stone struck the Death Eater's left eye. Irian shrieked in pain and surprise as he spun in place, one arm flailing, one hand on his face. The green light died from his wand as it sailed through the air and landed beside the cliff edge.

Harry wasted no time. He hauled himself to his feet, turned, and lurched toward what he thought was the general direction of his wand. His feet did not seem to want to obey him; he zigzagged, nearly tripping, on his way towards a line of bushes. Miraculously, there was Moody's wand, jutting out of the leaves like an odd-looking stray branch.

Even as his hand closed around it, part of him was already saying it was too late, that Irian had already recovered and even now was bearing down on him with a Killing Curse. But another part of him did not care. Touching the wand, all his fears evaporated. Fury was the only thing left. He was tired of running. He was tired of pain. He was sick to death of being chased, threatened, beaten down. Nothing had gone right since he left. Somebody had to pay. His anger came like a blizzard, obscuring all his thoughts except one--that he was armed and had the advantage.

He turned to see Irian, clutching his injured eye, stagger over to his wand and pick it up. Harry stepped forward, aiming as the Death Eater turned around. For a moment they caught each other's eye, and something was telegraphed between them. Whatever he saw in Harry's gaze made Irian buckle instead of attack. He conjured up a Wandshield and crouched behind it.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" cried Harry.

His ears caught the familiar whine as the Disarming Curse seared the air. It had never seemed so loud before. It struck Irian's Wandshield just above its center--and shattered it.

As Harry watched in amazement, the shards of the broken Wandshield flew in a scattered rain and began melting into thin air. The curse discharged on Irian's chest. It must have knocked the wind from his lungs, because he did not even scream. He flew backwards, wand leaping from his hand. It twirled, arcing through the air before disappearing over the lip of the gorge. Irian's body followed it.

For some moments, Harry stared at the spot where the Death Eater had been. Some shards of the Wandshield still hung in the air, slowly vanishing, the only testament that Irian had been there at all. Harry felt depleted, breathless. The anger inside of him vanished as quickly as it had come. He did not even notice the silence that signaled the end of a battle, nor Danny finally coming to stand beside him, until the elder boy took his shoulder.

"What happened?" he demanded.

The wand slipped from Harry's grasped. "I...I...didn't mean to...I didn't know that would happen..."

Following Harry's gaze, Danny strode towards the cliff edge and looked down. Harry could not see his face, but his silence was deafening. This can't be real, he thought, this is crazy. He stepped forward to look for himself, but as he drew near Danny thrust out his hand to stop him. His next words made the situation inescapably real.

"Don't look," he said. "Don't look."

---

Twilight was falling around them. A soft hush descended on the forest, broken only by the night breeze as it stirred the leaves of the trees, by the hooting of lonely owl. All around lengthening shadows pooled into dark wells. Harry shivered again, but surely not from the cold.

"I did what I had to do?" he asked bitterly.

"Yes," came Danny's reply. He had finished setting up a large, smooth stone in the middle of the campsite, which radiated heat without emitting light. Now he tended to Moody, attaching what seemed to be a metal brace around his wrist, and wrapping him in heavy blankets. Once more he checked his breathing, and nodded in satisfaction.

"I didn't mean to do it," said Harry.

Danny didn't look up. "I know you didn't. No one's blaming you."

"I didn't realize he was standing near the cliff."

"You didn't have time to think. You were fighting for you life."

"I didn't know I could even break his shield." Harry's voice rose a notch. "I didn't know--"

"He tried to take the curse full on instead of angling his shield," Danny retorted. "Of course it would break. It's wasn't your fau--"

"It's not fair!" Harry shouted. He was beyond hearing, his mind trying to dislodge the enormity of it all. "I'm not even supposed to be here! They shouldn't have known I was here! I should be back at Hogwarts by now! You were supposed to bring me back and keep me safe, that was your j-- "

He didn't see Danny move, but the elder boy was suddenly on him. One hand grabbed Harry by the lapels, another clamped around his jaw with an iron grip. The elder boy grabbed him so forcefully that he knocked Harry's head against the tree he'd been leaning on. Stars exploded in his head.

"In case you've forgotten," snarled Danny, "I came just as close to dying as you did. You're not the only bloke with his life on the line. I've got a man here who's done more than I ever could, and he might be dead by morning. I'm doing everything I can to keep that from happening, I'm trying to hold things together, and the last thing I need is you shouting at the top of your lungs like a crazy fool and announcing to every Death Eater in the forest exactly where we are. They already did a hell of a job on Moody; don't finish him off. Keep your head or we'll all wind up dead. Got it?"

Silence fell as they stared at each other. Finally, Harry dropped his gaze, his rapid breathing slowing to normal.

Danny relaxed his grip. "You want to live, you have to be strong," he said, more gently this time. "We're a long way from Hogwarts. Out here, fools die.

"I need help setting up these Dark Detectors," he went on. "Safe or not, we're going to be spending some time here, and they'll be the only defense we have against Death Eater attacks. You're going to help me. And you're going to do it quietly. All right?"

Harry nodded once. Danny let him go.

"No lights," said Danny, "or they'll see us a mile off."

When they finally finished, darkness surrounded them. They settled down for the night, leaning against opposite trees with Moody lying between them. Harry could only see their outlines in the gloom.

"Danny," he whispered, "have you ever killed anyone?"

There was no answer, and Harry thought he hadn't heard. But finally, Danny spoke up.

"Sure, Robbie. I've killed loads of people. Sometimes they don't give you a choice." He paused. Harry could not read his face in the darkness. "Just forget about it," he finally said. "You're exhausted. Go to sleep."

Harry pulled his cloak tighter around him. He tried to think of Hogwarts. He tried to think of the waves lapping on the lakeshore, of the warm autumn breeze on the hill overlooking Hogsmeade. He tried to bring back the memory of Ron's face; of Hermione's. He remembered the sun on Ginny's hair, the look of laughter in her merry eyes, and felt himself curl in despair. Instead of longing there was only cold dread and a feeling of an unbridgeable distance, like a chasm had opened in his heart. He could never tell them what happened today. What would they think of him? What would they say?

I'm innocent, he said to himself, hiding his face in his arms. He was trying to kill me and I was fighting for my life. I didn't do anything wrong. I just want to go back home.

But for the first time in Harry's life, home felt utterly beyond his reach.

To be continued.