The Silent Siege

Chapter 3

The Chase

Harry choked and spluttered the rancid water back into the lake. It had tasted horrible but it at least it had been enough to stop his tongue from sticking to the roof of his mouth. He only hoped he wouldn't be too sick afterwards.

Harry lingered at the water's edge for a few moments after the water had cleared his throat. He tried to take in his surroundings again through still dazed and bleary eyes. He could now see that on the far side of the lake stretched a forest which followed the far bank right up the mountainside and out of sight. Even from his present distance, Harry could see that the forest was as dense and thick as it was vast. The faintest glimmer of hope began to stir in his heart as he tried to convince himself that it could only be the Forbidden Forest he was staring at, the rich expanse of foliage that separated the Muggle world, in which he now stood, from the hidden school that was his true home. But Harry forced this hope back down again almost as immediately as it had risen not without a touch of anger. After all he had been through, he should have known better than to give into false hopes. There were forests like that everywhere in the world.

Harry found himself feeling like staying at the forest's edge for a little while longer but he could see that the Muggle in the boat out on the lake was starting to stare curiously over to the shore. Harry suddenly decided it was best if he was not seen. He made his way steadily back to the shore where he had left the Firebolt and portkey. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Harry knew he had to think about where he was and how he could find a way out, but as he walked up the mountain, he found that all he could do was fight back a horrible feeling of isolation and loneliness. A mere few days ago he had been almost afraid to see his friends again but now even the shame he had felt at Hermione and Ron's trepidation around him seemed welcome to the feeling of despair at his current predicament that threatened to overwhelm him. Harry found himself thinking seriously of turning around and trying to talk to the Muggle on the boat. At least perhaps he could tell him where in the world he was.

And he was almost on the point of doing so. But then he quickly had another thought. If Voldemort and his Death Eaters knew they had failed to kill him, wouldn't they come looking for him again? Harry hastily quickened his steps back up the side of the bank in the direction he had originally traveled. He hastily shoved his worries and guilt to the back of his mind. For now, he knew he had better make sure he did not lose the will to survive.

***

At that very same moment, a mere several miles away from where Harry was now hiding lost in the Highlands, the Hogwarts Express was nearing its destination.

Ron and Hermione had returned from their prefect duties to find that the compartment in which they had left their belongings was now shared by both Ginny and Luna Lovegood, who were reading identical copies of The Quibbler upside down. Luna seemed to be making the case for Ginny to add her own subscription. Ginny for her part seemed much less interested in talking and more concerned with sticking her head further into the paper as if doing so could somehow make Luna disappear.

As soon as Ron and Hermione entered the carriage, however, Luna sat up brightly and said:

"Hello, Ronald. Had a good summer? I wondered when you'd come back to tell us all the prefect news. I expect that there've been all sorts of changes now that everyone knows You-Know-Who is back."

"I'm afraid we can't discuss those sorts of things," replied Hermione acidly, sitting down next to Ginny and looking a little miffed at being ignored.

Ron's eyes darted around the carriage a little nervously. He tried to take the seat on the other side next to Ginny but Luna said:

"Oh, no, Ronald. There's plenty of room over here." She smiled at him engagingly and patted the seat next to hers.

Ron sat down next to Luna nervously and watched as Ginny buried her head even further in her newspaper apparently to conceal a smirk.

"I wrote Professor Dumbledore quite a lot of owls over the summer explaining why I should be a prefect this year," remarked Luna airily, "but it seems they must have been mislaid because I never got a reply."

"Fancy that," muttered Ron and winced as Ginny kicked him in the shin.

Luna seemed not to have noticed Ron's remark and embarked on a long-winded story about the content of the letters, why she had been a perfect choice, exactly how the owl she sent must have repeatedly lost its way, and so forth. Hermione kept clearing her throat in a fashion that reminded Ron very much of Professor Umbridge and Ron noticed with some satisfaction that after a time even Ginny seemed to lose her patience with Luna. But finally just when it seemed that Hermione would burst, Luna abruptly stopped talking and a blissful silence descended over the compartment.

There were odd spurts of conversation through the remainder of the trip but apart from Luna, no one was inclined to be very talkative. This was a little unusual considering that the Weasleys and Hermione had not seen each other this summer. Hermione tried to talk off and on about her holiday in France and Ron talked a little bit about his owl Pigwidgeon's new habit of squawking loudly in his ear to tell him he had mail before pulling back and flying around the room with the letter still attached to his beak. Most of these conversational topics fell almost instantly flat, however, and it was clear that they were mostly thinking about what might have happened to Harry.

Hermione looked out of the window and saw the mountain scenery disappear from view as the train plunged through the heart of the Forbidden Forest. She knew it wouldn't be very long until they reached Hogwarts and the whole trip passed without a mention of what was clearly on everyone's mind.

And then, as if on cue, Luna said:

"I expect you're all so quiet because you're wondering what's happened to Harry. I wouldn't worry. I heard You-Know-Who was planning to seize the train."

"And where exactly did you hear that?" asked Hermione evenly.

"You don't have a subscription to The Quibbler either, do you?"

"Don't see why I need one."

"If you had," said Luna, with the air of someone patiently explaining something quite simple to someone obviously very dense, "then you would have read about the White-Backed Razorbill. My father ran a special report for weeks. It wouldn't be in The Prophet, of course."

"I suppose you and your father visited their nest over the summer," quipped Ron, biting off the end of his tenth chocolate frog.

"As a matter of fact we did," replied Luna, missing Ron's sarcasm completely. "Only we didn't find any, of course. The White-Backed Razorbill are invisible. That's how they found out what You-Know-Who was planning. I expect they've taken Harry to their lair so You-Know-Who won't find them. He'll probably hibernate with them over the winter. As I said, though, not to worry. He'll be quite safe, I'm sure."

Before Hermione had time to ask how Luna could have known that the White-Backed Razorbill had discovered anything about the Death Eaters since they were invisible, Ginny noisily folded her paper and stared across at Luna, her face flushed red. Luna looked back at her fellow fifth-year with an expression of innocent surprise. For a moment, it seemed Ginny was about to say something to Luna but when she opened her mouth to speak, it was to the compartment in general:

"Excuse me. I think I'll go off to find my boyfriend now."

Ginny got up abruptly to leave and was almost out of the door when Ron cleared his throat.

Ginny turned back to look at her brother and met his anxious glance with a defiant expression of her own for a few seconds. Then Ron coughed loudly and said:

"W - well, maybe I'll go with you. I'd like to catch up on all the football results myself."

"Since when are you interested in Muggle sports?" retorted Ginny.

Before Ron could respond, Luna turned to him brightly and said:

"Oh, silly Ronald. Football doesn't start until autumn so he won't have anything to tell you." Ron's eyes widened in alarm as Luna snaked her arm around his. "I'd much rather you stay here with me."

Ginny turned and left the compartment just in time to hear Ron choke on the remains of his chocolate frog.

***

Night was falling faster now and Harry struggled to keep his footing on the rough, rocky ground. He cursed himself for leaving his Firebolt behind. He didn't think it would be very easy to find it now. He thought about retrieving it with magic but he wasn't sure who might be watching or worse, whether the Ministry might censure him for performing magic away from school even in his present predicament. Harry was certain of very little at the moment but he did know one thing: he wanted to get back to Hogwarts, whatever it took.

Harry began to feel his frustration and anger threaten to take control once more as he walked around in circles searching vainly for his broomstick. Finally, he spotted the white of the portkey shining on the ground in the light of the moon above him. He moved cautiously to it, stumbling as he did so on something hard and wooden. Smiling despite his pain, Harry triumphantly retrieved his Firebolt. He looked up as if to thank the heavens and then froze.

Was it his imagination, or had a shadow just past over the moon?

Harry peered up at the sky again, hoping to reassure himself that what he'd thought he had seen was a trick of an eye. He stared for long enough to almost begin to convince himself. And then it happened again.

With a quickening of his pulse, Harry realized that there was no use trying to deceive himself any longer. Gripping the handle of his Firebolt tightly, Harry could see that there were several dark shapes circling high in the sky above him. At first he thought they might be bats, and then large birds, but after another moment Harry could see that they were riders on broomsticks. His heart leaping with hope, Harry remembered how the members of the Order had taken him on broomstick to headquarters the previous year. Perhaps they were out again looking for him this time. Perhaps -

Harry fell to the ground as a splitting pain burned from his scar. No, he realized, as he screwed his eyes closed tightly to block out the agony: these riders were not friendly.

***

Ginny looked out of the window of the empty compartment in which she now found herself. She could hear Dean talking loudly to Seamus Finnigan in the compartment next to hers but she decided she wasn't quite ready to talk to him yet. Dusk had fallen outside and she could see her reflection through the light of the compartment. It looked back at her with a troubled frown. She knew she shouldn't have let Luna get to her like that but she could not deny that she had touched a raw nerve. Ginny had started the day stewing in anger at Dean, who was supposed to have met her on the platform and then in the train but hadn't showed. But as time had passed, no news had come from Ron and Hermione out of the prefect carriage, and Ginny had thought things over, she realized that she was really worried sick about Harry. No matter which way Ginny looked at it, it didn't seem right that no one could tell them anything, even if it was only that Harry was safe, whatever his secret location. The more she thought about it, the more Ginny was afraid that something was very wrong. And it was not long before she found herself starting to think what it would be like if she never saw Harry again.

When Ginny was a young child, her mother would read her bedtime stories of all the famous wizards and witches in history: Godric Gryffindor, Henrietta Handsdowne, Albus Dumbledore.... But the one Ginny always told her mother to tell her over and over again was the story of the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Ginny was fascinated that a little boy hardly older than herself had defeated the Dark Lord, the most evil wizard ever to have lived, the sorcerer her parents still did not dare to name. She begged her mother to make up stories about how Ginny traveled along with Harry Potter, saving the world from dark wizards and witches everywhere. When she had first met the lonely boy with the glasses on the platform at King's Cross Station Harry's first year, Ginny did not imagine that he could be the great Harry Potter. The real Harry seemed shy, polite, and, well, vulnerable in comparison to the Harry that Ginny had imagined. But Ginny had not felt disappointed; if anything, she was interested further. Ginny's imagination became consumed with the idea of making friends and sharing excitement with the real Harry at Hogwarts. And then it wasn't long before she found herself imagining their relationship to be much more than friendship.

And so it was on one unusually clear summer morning before her first year at Hogwarts, when Ginny's romantic fantasies had gotten very far ahead of her, that she had wandered down the stairs to the kitchen and seen the very last thing that she had imagined: Harry Potter was sitting down to eat with them at breakfast. Ginny had dreamed about saying and doing many different things on her first real meeting with Harry but running back up the stairs in fright had not been one of them.

And then she had shared a real life adventure with Harry Potter in the Chamber of Secrets. And it had not been fun and exciting. It had been frightening, disturbing, and humiliating. And Ginny did not dream about sharing adventures with Harry any more.

But she still dreamed about being together with him. Harry Potter was every bit as noble, true, but also as vulnerable and human as she had imagined. She was fascinated that anyone could share all of these contradictory qualities together in such abundance, and that fascination fueled her attraction to and, as she grew older, her desire for him.

During a game of Wizard truth her second year, she had told her feelings to her roommates Catherine and Amanda. Neither of them had seemed very surprised. As Amanda put it, Ginny was not blessed with the dullest complexion. Everyone in Gryffindor tower knew that Ginny was like a warning beacon: they only had to see her glowing red to know that Harry must be somewhere nearby. Both of her friends had tried to convince her that her crush wasn't healthy: they had many reasons. It's not true love, they had said. You have a crush on him because you think he's a hero, because he saved your life, because he's handsome and plays Quidditch, and so on.

At first, Ginny had managed to persuade herself that they were right but as time went by, Ginny became more and more certain that she didn't just want to be Harry's friend. If he really knew she liked him, then maybe there was still a chance he would start to think differently about her. Or maybe he really liked her but was too shy to say. As the announcements for the Yule Ball her third year were made and Harry and Ron began to fuss and complain that they would finally have to ask a girl, Ginny's excitement grew. She began to pay more attention to her appearance: fixing her hair differently, experimenting with various shades of wizard blush, and once even trying a stick of Muggle lipstick. She would sit near Harry, Ron, and Hermione, still lacking the courage to join in with any of their talks but convinced that Harry would not be able to help but notice her and would one day pluck up the courage to walk over and ask her to the ball. When an uncharacteristically giggling Hermione told an amazed Ginny one day that she had been invited to the ball by Viktor Krum, Ginny was confident that all remaining competition had been eliminated. Amanda and Catherine remarked on her appearance and even Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, two girls in Harry's own class, joined in on the gossip that she was sure to catch Harry's eye. Ginny was convinced that it was only a matter of time before Harry would notice her and ask her to the dance. Her daily thoughts grew more and more consumed with the fantasy of going to the ball escorted by one of the champions, how everyone in the school would look at them as they began to dance, how Harry's shy green eyes would finally turn toward hers and he would confess the love he had hidden for so long.

But as the ball grew closer and Harry still hadn't asked her, Ginny's hopes had begun to wane. Finally, Neville Longbottom had walked up to her out of the blue one day, his face pale white and trembling and asked whether she would go to the ball with him. Caught completely by surprise, Ginny found she did not have the heart to refuse him. Besides, as a third year, she couldn't go to the ball unless she was invited by somebody else and with all the anticipation of the others around her, she couldn't bear to think of not going.

But Ginny still hoped that she would end up with Harry once the ball got started. She imagined how she would lure him away from whichever girl he had been haplessly forced to invite as champion. She had been deep in her plans one late afternoon when Harry had walked into the common room and announced right in front of her that he had just asked Cho Chang to the dance and been turned down.

Ginny could scarcely recall ever having felt as empty as she'd had at that moment. All of her hopes and plans had seemed to collapse like a castle of cards. Harry had not seemed to even know how she'd felt about him all this time. He hadn't been shy around her; he just hadn't noticed her there at all. All the time she had only been his friend's little sister, someone whose life he'd saved not out of love for her but out of duty to her brother. All the time she'd thought he'd been about to ask her to the ball he'd really been thinking about another girl in the same way that she had been thinking about him.

Ginny's reflection twisted in the mirror as she remembered how she'd tried to stay sitting at the table with Harry and Ron and hide her feelings behind very friendly barbs, all the while using every last ounce of strength to force back the tears that welled up behind the surface of her eyes. Finally, when Ron had suggested that Harry invite her to the ball as a last resort, it had just been too much. Ginny knew she would have to leave to avoid making an emotional spectacle of herself.

But only after she had cried her lonely tears, after she had gone to the ball with Neville and he had run away from her in fright after stepping on her toe three times in the first dance, after she had sat by herself moodily looking at Harry looking at Cho, that things had finally changed: that was when Ginny had met Michael Corner.

Michael wasn't ugly but he also wasn't the most remarkable looking boy Ginny had ever seen. She might have ignored him even after he had sat down next to her if he hadn't first asked what she was looking at and then why such a beautiful girl was spending all of her time staring at a boy who obviously took no interest in her. Ginny hadn't really known what to say: no one besides her mother had called her beautiful before, let alone a boy; even Neville had asked her only as a second resort. It was not long before Michael had brought Ginny out of her shell and after she had started she couldn't stop talking: about herself, her family - even her brush with death in the Chamber of Secrets. Part of her had felt like a fool for talking so much but Michael hadn't seemed to mind at all.

Even the very next day, Ginny found that she had started to think differently about Harry. But she couldn't forget about him that easily either. And then Michael started sending her owls, and sitting next to her at meals, and it wasn't long before Ginny had found herself in two minds. Tired of hearing the opinions of her roommates, she had decided to confide in Hermione.

Hermione was much more open than Amanda or Catherine. She didn't seem particularly surprised to hear about Ginny's crush though she hadn't known about Michael. Hermione had decided that she would test the waters with Harry, a prospect that made Ginny considerably nervous since Hermione was not known for her subtlety. Nonetheless, she had managed to be sufficiently discreet and had reported that all Harry would talk about was Cho. She didn't think it was a good idea for Ginny to keep pining over Harry, especially when there was someone else out there who would like her back.

In the end, what Hermione had told Ginny hadn't been all that different from what her roommates had said to her two years before but the more time she spent with Michael and the more his letters started to sound like love owls, the more Ginny had started to think that Hermione was right. Finally, at the end of the year, she had meant to go to say goodbye to Michael for the summer and join her family to watch Harry in the Third Task but somehow she could never seem to leave. Then after everyone had left but herself and Michael, she had shared her first kiss with him.

By the time their fourth year began, Ginny and Michael were a couple: they went to Quidditch games together, snogged in private during Hogsmeade weekends, and always paired up in Harry's DA classes. Ginny found that her relationship with Harry had changed completely: she no longer mooned after him speechlessly. She could talk to him, reason with him, and even get mad at him when his self-pity blossomed to the point that he would lash out at others. She had gained a measure of self-respect around him of which her younger self would never have been capable. And she was sure that it had been much to Harry's benefit also: while the old Ginny would have been too frightened to say much in front of the Boy Who Lived, the new Ginny was the only one of Harry's friends who refused to accept his depressive moping and whether through anger or gentleness had managed on several occasions to bring Harry out from the dangerous abyss into which he had seemed so often very close to sinking.

But as her fourth year moved on, Ginny found that while she remained infatuating to Michael, much of his own personality had begun to grate on her most notably his occasional lapses of sound judgment and, more disturbingly, his frequent bouts of depressive moodiness. Ginny reasoned that if anyone had the right to be depressed it was her. But for all the torture Tom Riddle had piled upon her both in the Chamber of Secrets and the scars she still lived with afterwards, she was determined to never give in. What right did Michael, who came from a privileged family and had never experienced anything remotely as horrible as she had, have to feel depressed all the time? And so near the end of the year when he had finally worked himself into a bottomless funk over a stupid game of Quidditch, Ginny had decided that enough was enough.

But Ginny also knew, deep in her heart, that she had not only chosen to break up with Michael because she could no longer tolerate his sullen moods but also because had wanted to get much closer to her, a great deal closer than Ginny was ever going to feel comfortable with, and she knew she was never going to be able to tell Michael why.

It was not long after Ginny had broken up Michael that Dean Thomas had made his move. Dean's infectious optimism and gorgeous looks had been just the antidote to Michael Corner even if it had gotten right up her brother's nose. By the end of her fourth year, love with Harry had been the furthest thing from Ginny's mind.

But then the nightmares had begun.

Ginny had dreamed about being in the Chamber for years now. Sometimes the dreams were like shadows dancing through her mind, always on the edge of her perception. At other times, they were real and she would still have to live with them the morning after. Over the years, the nightmares had become fewer, but ever since she had come back to the Burrow this past summer, the nightmares had come fast and frequent. They also seemed different from before. She was baffled as to what they were telling her. It was always the same: she was lying in the Chamber and Harry and Tom were preparing to fight. Harry wanted her to save him but she could never quite bring herself to do it. The details would sometimes change, though: sometimes Tom was Tom and sometimes he was Voldemort. The Ginny in the dream still had very intense feelings for Harry but Ginny wasn't sure in her waking moments whether it was her buried feelings that were causing the dream or the dream that was causing the feelings.

But now as Ginny looked out the window, she shuddered. The dreams seemed less like feelings now and more like a premonition. She felt a horrible fear form inside of her gut: Harry wasn't coming back.

Ginny continued to look at her reflection, the outside forest black as pitch around her. She felt a sudden lurch. The Hogwarts Express was reaching its destination.

***

Harry grabbed his Firebolt tightly, looking desperately around to see if anyone might be coming to help him. He did not have to look up at the sky now. He could hear them coming, men on broomsticks, cutting through the night air. He could hear the distant sounds of their raised voices. They had spotted him now betrayed by the light of the moon and were spiraling downward ever faster. Whether they were friend or foe, Harry still wasn't sure, but as a sense of urgency and a will to survive overcame his clouded mind and confused emotions, he decided he wasn't going to wait to find out.

Harry had no sooner started to mount his broomstick when he heard a sound like a flare being launched. He felt his face flush in fright. He had only had that sound once in his life before that he could remember. Harry forced himself to look up and saw a green light flash into the sky, then another, and another.

The Dark Mark was forming.

***

The returning students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry got out of the stagecoaches that had taken them from the train platform up to the school and started to walk into the castle.

"God, I'm starving," declared Ron. "I can just smell that feast from here."

Luna drew up alongside him.

"After all those chocolate frogs? Think of the poor thestrals. Why that one over there looks like - "

"I can't see them, all right?" snapped Ron irritably.

Hermione didn't respond to their conversation. She kept looking around nervously. "I still can't see Harry," she said.

Ginny, who seemed to have found Dean, and was now reunited with Ron, Hermione, and Luna, kept darting her eyes back and forth, one hand holding her boyfriend's and another rubbing her arm as if she was cold despite the unusual warmth of the evening.

Finally, the students made it into the large Entrance Hall. For the returning students, the routine was now familiar and Ron took the lead in making their way across to the Great Hall where the new first years would soon be sorted and, more importantly, the feast would begin.

Ron was so intent on his journey that he nearly walked straight into Professor McGonagall, who was standing at the front entrance to the hall, blocking their advance.

"Oh, excuse me, Professor, I - " Ron broke off as he looked at the expression on McGonagall's face. She seemed to have aged thirty years in the short span of the summer. Her eyelids were heavy and her complexion blotchy as though she had been crying. She looked almost vacantly down at Ron before finally saying very quietly:

"You'd better stay where you are, Mr. Weasley."

Ron nodded but did not say anything. He began to feel very uneasy.

The crowd of students that was now forming behind Ron was forced to stop, most of them still outside the door to the Entrance Hall. There were hushed murmurings of confusion among the students.

McGonagall took out her wand. She was about to place it to her face when a loud booming sound resonated just above the students.

"Chaos! Confusion! Misery! Despair!"

Peeves the Poltergeist was jumping up and down in obvious delight with a wicked grin on his face.

McGonagall suddenly found her voice. "PEEVES!" she shrieked.

"Understood, madam," replied Peeves, bowing his hat. "Peeves is not wanted." Peeves began to move away but continued to rub his hands with glee. "Oh, just wait until you all find out what happened! Oh! Oh! Oh!" And with a final glare from McGonagall he was gone.

Ron suddenly felt sick.

McGonagall placed her wand to her mouth once again.

"Sonorus. If I could have everyone's attention." McGonagall broke off as she cleared her throat which was still hoarse from shouting at Peeves. "Tonight's feast has been cancelled."

There were murmurs of confusion and dismay from the students.

"If I can have quiet, please," said McGonagall. "Some very disturbing events have taken place today in the wizarding world and the faculty must meet together to discuss them. First years, when they arrive, will be taken to the main hall where they will be temporarily accommodated until a proper sorting ceremony can take place. Older students will proceed to their dormitories. Food and drink will be provided in your common rooms."

There was a relative silence, broken only by the shuffling of feet and disentanglement of bodies as the students moved in the directions of their respective houses.

Ron turned around to walk with the other students to Gryffindor Tower.

"Except," and here McGonagall seemed to croak on her words. "Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. If you would follow me, please."

Ron nodded and looked around to Hermione who was standing just behind him, her face the color of birch.

McGonagall waited for Ron and Hermione to reach the spot where she was standing only to see that Ginny was trailing behind them, resisting Dean's attempts to drag her back in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

"Not you, Miss Weasley," McGonagall said softly. "Please return to your dormitory."

Ginny did not reply. She stood her ground for one moment longer. In that brief moment, she fixed McGonagall with a stare that was as penetrating as it was unreadable. McGonagall felt herself shudder involuntarily.

Then, Ginny slowly nodded, then turned around and accompanied Dean back in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

***

Harry pushed up with his feet from the ground and in an instant his broomstick had risen high into the air. It did not take long for the Death Eaters to catch up to him. So far as Harry could tell, there were seven of them, riding broomsticks that Harry did not yet recognize, as fast as or perhaps faster than his own Firebolt. In an instant, the Death Eaters were riding close enough that Harry could see their black cloaks trailing behind them in the wind. Each of them wore masks that covered their faces.

Harry had barely registered this when he saw one of the Death Eaters take out a wand and aim it at his position:

"Avada Kedavra!" he heard the Death Eater cry.

Harry darted quickly to his right as the green beam from the Death Eater's wand narrowly missed his hip. He could feel the wind in his ears and his heart pounding in his head.

The Death Eaters were aiming to kill.

Suddenly, Harry was surrounded on all sides. Beams of wand light flashed all around him. Relying on his Quidditch instincts, Harry darted back and forth, avoiding the beams. The earth and the sky seemed to melt into one darkened mass as Harry twisted and twirled to try and break the Death Eaters' formations. It suddenly seemed that everywhere Harry looked there were Death Eaters. He realized with horror that they had taken advantage of their superior speed and his confusion to surround him from all sides.

His heart leaping in his chest, Harry ducked as he felt another flash of wand fire pass just below his left ear and then twisted again as another volley screamed over his head. His broomstick flailing aimlessly around in circles in the sky, Harry knew that he wasn't going to be able to avoid the Death Eaters' curses much longer. He briefly considered landing and looking for cover in the hills but then realized he would make a much slower and easier target on foot. As the flash from another curse tickled the bristles on his Firebolt, Harry realized that his best chance was to hope that his Quidditch skills were better than any of the other riders. He also knew one other thing: he had to be much more desperate to survive than the Death Eaters were desperate to kill him.

Dodging multiple bursts, Harry righted his broomstick and made out the pitch black of the forest where it started beyond the open fern-strewn landscape ahead of him. Whatever forest it was, Harry still did not know but it was better than flying out over the open fields.

Two Death Eaters blocked Harry's path. Hugging his body around his broomstick tightly, Harry picked up speed and cannoned straight toward him. He tried to make himself as small as possible as the Death Eaters fired frantically at his broomstick. He could see that the two riders were starting to move further apart, leaving an opening in the middle which they littered with wand fire, daring Harry to try and pass.

But Harry did not make for the opening. Resisting the temptation to close his eyes, he continued to aim for one of the Death Eaters. Still swerving and weaving, Harry grew so close that he could see the Death Eater's wand silhouetted against the moonlight as he aimed a curse directly between Harry's eyes. Harry waited as long as he dared, then listened to the curse fly aimlessly over his head as he took a sharp dive. In a single motion, Harry drew his wand out of his pocket and fired up at his attacker:

"Stupefy!"

Harry watched as the beam from his wand struck the Death Eater's stomach. He tumbled over his broomstick and down into the black night's sky.

Harry quickly spun back around and fired at the Death Eater's partner just as he was bringing his own wand down in a curse. The Death Eater tried to duck but Harry's stunning spell hit the Death Eater's head just above his ear. Then he, too, tumbled off his broomstick and fell down through the night's sky.

Without stopping to think whether either of the Death Eaters had survived their fall, Harry gripped his broomstick with both hands and moved off into the space that was now opening up ahead of him. He felt the wind rush faster through his ears as his Firebolt gained speed. He heard shouts of confusion behind him and looked back to see two of the Death Eaters start after the fallen riders before another of the Death Eaters angrily called them back. The remaining Death Eaters regrouped quickly but the confusion was long enough to give Harry seconds of precious space and time. He steered through the open gap and accelerated over the threshold of the forest. Still gripping his wand in his hand, Harry took a deep breath and held it out in front of him.

"Point me!" Harry cried.

Harry's wand spun around toward the direction of Hogwarts. He swept sideways in a graceful arc and sped off over the first trees of the forest, the Death Eaters in pursuit.

***

McGonagall finished telling Ron and Hermione everything that had happened that day and the night before: the Dursley's burned down house, the Ministry's arrival that morning and Dumbledore's discussion with the Weasleys (and apparently the Grangers via Muggle phone). She managed to get through the entire account unbroken but then began to sob and took out a slightly fading blue spotted handkerchief to dab her eyes.

She didn't know how she had thought Ron and Hermione would respond but she had not expected them to sit there as silently as they did. Both of them had gone horribly pale but neither had shown any reaction to anything she had said. They simply stared forward, not quite looking at her, large plates of food and a pitcher of pumpkin juice untouched between them.

Finally Ron said: "And they don't know anything else? They don't have any idea who's behind it, what else happened?"

McGonagall shook her head. "Believe me, that is what the Ministry and the Order are making every effort to discover as we speak. And I will inform the both of you along with your parents when there are any new findings. Now, if you'll excuse me, I will let the Headmaster know that you are here." McGonagall turned away and left not quite managing to look Ron and Hermione in the eye.

The door to Dumbledore's office shut and Ron and Hermione heard McGonagall's footsteps slowly disappearing down the spiral staircase. They continued to stare straight ahead, neither of them acknowledging that she had left.

There was a sudden flutter of movement. Fawkes the Phoenix, his brilliant red tail flowing elegantly behind him, came to perch delicately on the side of a tray of chocolate fudge cakes. He bowed ever so slightly to Ron. A single tear welled in the side of his eye and fell onto the tabletop.

"Hello, Fawkes," said Ron quietly, his voice suddenly breaking. "I don't think even your tears can heal us this time."

Hermione suddenly started to sob. She began quietly but soon her sobbing became more intense until finally she started to wail loudly. Ron had seen Hermione cry before but never like this; her wailing seemed to echo off the walls of Dumbledore's office like the unearthly cries of a banshee.

"Hermione. Hermione," he said urgently.

Hermione reached over the table and grabbed Ron into an embrace. He suddenly felt Hermione's tear-stained cheek next to his and her bushy brown hair filled his vision. She continued to wail right next to his ear and he could feel her tears falling down onto his robes.

Hermione had always been a very tactile person but Ron had never been quite comfortable hugging his best friend. He always seemed to feel his heart quicken and his head fill with thoughts about someone coming around the corner and seeing their embrace or, in this case, Dumbledore walking into his office. Of course, it was perfectly natural for them to hug after they had just heard that their other best friend had been killed but somehow Ron still could not shake the discomfort. And Hermione always seemed to hold on so tightly like Ron was a giant stuffed teddy bear. It just felt claustrophobic.

But this time he supposed Hermione needed very badly to be hugged. Ron kept her in the embrace for what seemed like an eternity. He finally released her and moved backwards. Her release was more reluctant but she did not try to continue to press him against her. A few strands of Hermione's hair lingered for a moment on Ron's shoulder before falling back down toward her.

"Why aren't you crying?" Hermione suddenly demanded.

"I - I don't know," replied Ron, the reality of Harry's death suddenly returning to the forefront of his attention. "I - I don't feel I can; I'm just shocked, I suppose, or - or - angry," Ron decided, feeling his face flush red.

Hermione grabbed her own handkerchief and blew her nose noisily, looking at Ron through bloodshot eyes. "Look, Ron," she suddenly said, as if coming to a decision. "It's just the two of us now." Hermione sniffed. "W - We need to be honest with each other."

Ron nodded, not quite sure what was coming next.

"T - There's something I need to tell you. I've been thinking about this all summer." Hermione started to speak quickly and look down at her knees. "I just - I just - " Hermione stopped, then suddenly balled her fists in frustration. "Oh, why is this so difficult?" she asked the arm of the chair. "We're friends, after all."

"Yeah," Ron replied weakly, suddenly feeling very foolish.

Hermione paused for a long moment and Ron felt a flood of unfamiliar emotions run through his head - anger at Harry's death, emptiness at the loss of his friend, pity for Hermione, and a sudden nagging curiosity to understand exactly what it was she was trying to tell him.

"I can't," said Hermione suddenly, releasing her grip and looking back into Ron's eyes. "Not now. There - there's just too much - too much has happened. I'm - I'm - I'm sorry."

"OK," replied Ron dumbly.

Hermione sighed, then looked at Ron anxiously. "Please," she said, in a very quiet and scared voice. "Please, Ron." She moved toward him with her arms out. "I - I know you don't feel that comfortable h - h - holding me."

What was that word she had just used, Ron suddenly asked himself. Holding?

"I don't feel uncomfortable at all," Ron lied, suddenly aware that his voice was coming out as a high-pitched squeak.

"But I." Hermione looked down again. "I - I just feel really alone right now."

Hermione's plea was so pitiful it frightened Ron. He pulled her into another embrace and told himself that he would not let go until she was ready.

***

Harry held onto his Firebolt and willed it to go ever faster. His ears felt numb from the suddenly cold wind that was rushing through him as he sped over the treetops of the forest. His wand continued to point him as he struggled hard to acknowledge the harsh reality that was aching like an itch that couldn't be scratched in the back of his mind: there was no way of telling where he was flying or how far he had to go. He tried to buoy his own hopes by convincing himself that Lupin would have arranged the portkey to take him as near to Hogwarts as it could. But the truth was, he could be thousands of miles from Hogwarts in another part of the world now for all he knew. How far could a portkey really take him? Harry ruefully recalled how the spectators at the World Quidditch Cup had materialized in England from all over the world. He could still be anywhere.

And what if he did make it to Hogwarts? Surely the Death Eaters wouldn't follow him there, would they? Harry swallowed. The Death Eaters had made to Privet Drive. Perhaps they had found a way to conquer Hogwarts as well. For all he knew, the school might have already been ambushed. Voldemort might be there himself, waiting to taunt him again before this time successfully killing Harry, just as he had killed his parents, his godfather -

And his aunt, uncle, and cousin?

Harry forced his doubts and fears to the back of his mind. He had found his nerve before and if he was going to have any chance to survive this time, he knew he would have to find it again. He wouldn't give up, not as long as he still had a hope.

Harry looked behind him. There were now five Death Eaters left in pursuit, two just behind him and three a little further back. He also saw that they were gaining on him quickly. He would have to worry about other things later. Right now, he had to find a way to keep a distance between himself and his pursuers.

And time was running out.

***

Ginny walked with the other Gryffindors into the common room and sat herself down on the first available chair. Dean sat down at the seat opposite, looking at her nervously. Ginny spotted her roommates Amanda and Catherine elsewhere in the crowd but she decided very quickly she was not in the mood to say hello.

"Ginny?" said Dean, looking searchingly into her eyes.

"What right do they have?" Ginny suddenly snapped, her cheeks flushed red in anger. "What right do they have to hear everything straight from McGonagall's lips while I have to sit in here wondering whether he's ever coming back. What right? You'd think they'd signed their names in blood that they alone are his friends. What - "

"Ginny!" said Dean, as several of their fellow Gryffindors threw furtive looks at Ginny. "They're his friends! They've been friends since first year. They're - "

"And I'm not his friend?" retorted Ginny, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"N - no, I didn't mean that, Ginny, you know I didn't."

"It just isn't fair. No one thinks about me; no one ever - "

"I'm his friend, too, Ginny, all right?" said Dean, anger creeping in his own voice. "We've lived in the same room together for five years."

Ginny stopped and looked at Dean properly, her eyes suddenly very large. Dean continued to look at her anxiously for a moment before she lowered them.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"It's alright." Dean moved closer to Ginny and touched the side of her arm gently. "Look, Ginny - "

"No," said Ginny suddenly, holding onto Dean's other shoulder. "It's not alright. I was mad at Ron and Hermione and I took it out on you. You deserve better."

"I - I'm sorry about what happened on the train," said Dean, lowering his own eyes. "I - "

But Ginny shook her own head.

"It doesn't about that anymore," she said and she realized that it didn't. The horrible nauseating worry that had been growing all day had seemed to finally burst from somewhere in the pit of her stomach the moment McGonagall had asked Ron and Hermione to her office.

"I'm just really scared," Ginny confessed quietly. She reached out and took Dean's hands into hers.

"It might not be as bad as you think, Ginny."

Ginny looked up at Dean again, a sudden faraway look in her eyes.

"It is," she said quietly. "I know."

Dean opened his mouth as if to respond but then closed it again when he could not think of anything else to say to Ginny. He held onto Ginny's hands and rubbed her sweat-covered palms in his. He looked into her eyes and knew as she did, that all they could do was wait.

***

Harry felt a bolt of wand fire glance just past his left shoulder. He dived to his right and then back to his left again as another bolt from his right shot past him. Harry saw a small gap open up in the trees ahead. He abruptly swung his Firebolt around and plummeted hard straight down into the crevice. He looked briefly behind him as the canopy of trees overhead closed. He could see that the Death Eaters were in disarray: two of them had overreached their target. A third tried to dive into the opening and met the open space at precisely the same moment that one of the lead riders tried to backtrack from the opposite angle. The third rider tried desperately to swerve but it was too late: there was a satisfying crack of handle on handle and the third rider spun out of control and thudded hard against a large tree. The lead rider managed to regain his balance but not before his wand fell from his grasp and landed in the undergrowth somewhere behind Harry.

The ground loomed ahead fast. Just as he was about to crash into the bottom, Harry pulled up, the bristles of his broomstick kissing the top of the fern-strewn ground. He moved his broomstick forward just centimeters above the earth. A whooshing sound behind him told him that the wandless Death Eater was in pursuit but Harry had gained back some ground. He didn't dare look back again to see if any more were following him. At that moment, the clearing came to an end and Harry plunged broomstick first into the thick dark forest. He weaved his Firebolt dangerously fast between thick trunks of trees, smaller branches and vines stinging his face like the sharp cracks of a whiplash. He could hear insistent cries from a myriad of strange creatures. Now and again, Harry became aware of movement to his left and right as small - and sometimes not so small - animals scurried out of the way. He kept hoping to hear the crash of a pursuing broomstick against a tree but the silence told him that his hunters must be still on his tail.

Just then, Harry heard the whooshing sound of wand fire to his left. A wild beast from somewhere in front of him roared in fear and an enormous tree fell down across Harry's path. He rolled over sideways to avoid it, seeing as he did so a second chaser traveling parallel to his own position, wand at the ready. The chaser was starting to pull ahead of Harry and he realized that the two Death Eaters were planning an ambush. Harry pulled up sharply, riding the large trunk of a tree up into the open sky.

As he pulled out into the open, he saw the two other Death Eaters still flying through the sky to his right. He tore forward and heard one of them shout in the distance. He knew they would both move to pursue him. Harry took out his wand again.

"Point Me!"

He shifted twenty degrees to his left to remain on a course for Hogwarts, still hoping that it was the Forbidden Forest he was riding through. Suddenly, on an impulse, Harry took his Firebolt high into the sky, higher than he had ever done in any Quidditch game, so high he could feel the wind resistance start to jolt the tail of his broomstick. But he had to know.

And then he did.

Far in the distance, straight ahead of him, were the unmistakable lights and turrets of Hogwarts, their reflection glistening in the lake by the side of the school. Harry felt so relieved tears sprang to his eyes. If only he could just hold on.

Wand fire crackled from underneath him as one of the Death Eaters moved up to his position. Harry took out his own wand.

"Impedimenta!"

Harry's own shot flew harmlessly into the empty sky. He maneuvered his broomstick once again toward the top of the thick foliage below, skimming the tops of the tall trees. He heard the cries of the Death Eaters and dodged a flurry of wand fire before diving down directly in through the top branches of a large leafy oak. Harry felt the leaves and branches bite into his face as he rode down and down, praying that the Death Eaters wouldn't follow his suicidal plunge. He veered dangerously close to the tree's main trunk and then down into the thick forest again, passing inches over a small bog before cutting another winding path through the thick forest. He heard the cracks of branches behind and knew that at least one of the Death Eaters was in close pursuit. He wound through thicker and thicker foliage. The light of the moon was distant indeed from the dark forest ground. Harry was not sure he could keep this up much longer. He gasped as a large thick trunk emerged directly in front of his face, swerving just in time to avoid a surely fatal collision.

Then Harry heard an unearthly cry just behind him. At first he thought it was the moans of another strange beast, but then he chanced a brief look back and saw to his horror that a giant eight-legged spider had leaped onto the stomach of the on-rushing Death Eater, unseating him from his broomstick which had now crashed and splintered into the trunk of a nearby tree. He heard the Death Eater shouting a curse at the spider, but the curses were soon replaced with chilling screams. Harry looked back ahead of him. As he dodged more and more trees, he suddenly realized that the ground just beneath him was alive with movement. Suddenly, something grasped onto his own leg and started forcing him down into the forest. He looked back to see the beady eyes of an enormously large arachnid. Pain suddenly seared into Harry's calf as the spider dug into his flesh with its pincers. Returning his eyes quickly to the dangerous path ahead, Harry pointed his wand to the dipping end of his broomstick and cried:

"Arachnia Exhume! "

Harry shouted the curse three times before he finally heard a snapping sound and felt the spider drop off the end of his broomstick. Harry righted his Firebolt and continued his journey deeper and deeper into the forest, hoping to see some kind of clearing ahead of him, but the darkness went on.

From the sound of snapping twigs behind him, Harry knew there was at least one Death Eater still on his tail. He suddenly saw a flash of movement to his right and noticed the Death Eater running just beside him. He heard the Death Eater shout a curse and saw flashes of light coming between the trees before bouncing harmlessly off the wood. Harry dodged and weaved, trying to put as much space between them as he could, but the Death Eater seemed to twist with him, matching Harry's every turn. In a tiny part of his mind not concentrated on survival, Harry sensed something familiar about this rider, as if they were dancing a dance they had choreographed years ago. He accelerated his Firebolt. Flying perilously fast, Harry swooped in between two trees, but the Death Eater hung close. Finally, swallowing his nerves, Harry made a sudden swerve to the right and criss-crossed hard into a collision course with the Death Eater. He ducked as the Death Eater cried "stupefy," then flew inches above his head and ducked in between the two main trunks of a large oak. The Death Eater recovered almost immediately, swerved and ducked to copy Harry's move but he was a split-second too late. Harry heard the crack of the Death Eater's broomstick as its end rammed up against one of the tree's large branches. He glanced back to see the Death Eater spin around on his half broomstick and crash harmlessly into a bed of ferns. Harry continued to dodge and weave through another two trees as he heard the Death Eater's wand fire crash against a tree just behind him.

Once he was satisfied that the Death Eater was far behind him with no means to fire or pursue, Harry aimed his Firebolt back up into the sky.

***

Ginny and Dean continued to sit hand in nervous hand, occasionally looking up at one another's eyes but both afraid to speak out loud the anxiety they now felt. Their uneasy gloom seemed to mirror most of the occupants of the Gryffindor common room who also sat mostly in silence, food and drink laid out on the tables in front of them, but mostly left untouched..

Ginny was vaguely aware out of the corner of her eye that Seamus had moved toward the open window and was looking outside vacantly. She quickly turned her attention back to Dean and her own troubled thoughts. After a few more minutes, she became aware that Seamus was fidgeting disconcertedly. She felt like snapping something at him when Dean looked up and said:

"What is it, mate?"

Seamus turned back around frowning.

"I can't say for sure but I think you'd better take a look."

Dean looked over at Ginny for a moment then got up and walked over to the window himself. Both of them succeeded in distracting Ginny's attention as they whispered to themselves and kept pointing at something in the sky. Then Dean turned around and said:

"I think you'd better see this, Ginny."

Ginny got up and walked toward the window. She was surprised to find a strong autumn wind blowing into her face as the patterns of the seasons started to change as if on cue with the start of the school year. She looked across the grounds to the Forbidden Forest but nothing seemed remarkable; it was all so - quiet.

"What?" she asked Dean.

Dean took hold of Ginny's shoulder and pointed up to the bright moon shining above them.

"Just keep looking," he said.

Ginny glanced up to see a small cloud moving slowly toward the moon, and then for an instant, something else. A black blur seemed to rise out of the forest near the horizon; it passed over the moon and turned direction. Then another followed and then another just above the first. Ginny squinted as a gust of wind sprang up and stung her eyes. Like Harry earlier that evening, Ginny thought at first that they must be large birds, but they didn't seem to move like birds. Rather, they moved just like...

Ginny suddenly felt her heart flutter.

No, it couldn't be.

***

Harry didn't need his wand to show him the way this time. As his Firebolt flew above the treetops, Harry could see the lights from the Hogwarts castle glowing above the horizon just to his right. One lone Death Eater flew just behind and to his left. Harry goaded his Firebolt on. If he could just keep going a little bit longer, he would make it over the grounds and provided that all was well, there was a good chance the Death Eater wouldn't follow him. He could see from his peripheral vision that the Death Eater was gaining on him and it wasn't long before he was dodging the crack of wand fire again. As the Death Eater moved closer, Harry could see long blondish-white hair trailing behind him.

Lucius Malfoy, Harry realized at once. He should have known.

In between dodging Malfoy's curses, Harry thought quickly to himself. He was fairly sure that five Death Eaters had survived his diversion and chased after him: one had collided into his fellow rider when Harry had dived into the forest the first time; one had been attacked by the spider (Harry still shuddered at the thought), and one had just spun out into the undergrowth. That left two Death Eaters. Where was the other one? Harry realized that it must be the wandless rider who was missing. Perhaps he had disapparated to get another wand. Perhaps -

Harry realized only too late what had happened. The wandless rider landed on top of him with a bone-jarring crash. Rough hands grabbed hold of Harry's shoulders and tried to force him off his broom. Harry hung on desperately to the undercarriage of the Firebolt, and fought back pressing his strength against the Death Eater. He finally landed a blow to the side of the Death Eater's head and swung down hard with his hands to send the Death Eater's broomstick crashing down into the trees below. Now the two of them hung perilously onto Harry's Firebolt. Harry felt the shaft of his broomstick crushing against his stomach as he and the Death Eater sandwiched it between them. The Firebolt now twisted and turned circles in the air, dangerously close to the top of the trees. Harry's stomach felt like it had flown into his throat as sky and earth spun around and around. He vaguely became aware of the towers of Hogwarts starting to loom ahead of them but the Firebolt was no longer traveling in a straight direction.

***

Ginny stared at the impossible scene that had emerged before her eyes. It seemed there were three riders now, two of them hanging onto the same broomstick while the other flew nearby with his wand outstretched. She didn't dare hope what she was seeing was real. She didn't dare hope that one of the riders could be Harry. She reached into her pocket and drew out her wand pointing at the spot of sky above the forest where the riders were now twirling figure eights in the sky.

"Lumos Solarum!" she cried.

A bright beam of light flew out from Ginny's wand across the Hogwarts grounds and out toward the three riders. To her right, Dean and Seamus followed suit. Their combined wand lights were still too far away to shine on the riders, but the cries of the three Gryffindors attracted the attention of their housemates. Within moments, the windows were full of Gryffindors. There were numerous cries of "lumos solarum" and a few dozen wand lights shot out from the tower to blanket the night sky.

***

Harry continued to wrestle with the Death Eater. The two of them clung onto each other and the broomstick so tightly that it was impossible for either to free his fist for a blow. Harry finally managed to release his left hand and punch the Death Eater in the chin but he still clung onto the broomstick. Harry reached up again to strike but the Death Eater ducked his face to avoid the blow and Harry made contact only with the Death Eater's mask which came off and fell down into the forest below.

Harry gasped as he saw the crooked-toothed face of former Slytherin Quidditch captain Marcus Flint snarling back at him.

The distraction was all that Flint needed. He grabbed his hands around Harry's throat and began to shake him vigorously.

"Flint," he heard Malfoy's silky voice call from somewhere nearby. "Hold him still so I can get a clear shot. Then we can end this!"

Harry tried to wriggle out of Flint's chokehold but it was no use. His eyes began to water as Flint tightened his grip. Suddenly, out of the corner of his vision, Harry saw something large and white fly into view and dive right at Flint's face.

Flint screamed and tried to swat the invader away. In the distraction, Harry wrestled himself out of Flint's grip and, without stopping to think, planted a hard kick into Flint's stomach.

The Death Eater screamed as he lost his balance and felt off the Firebolt and down into the branches of a tall tree below.

Harry swung himself back on top of the Firebolt just in time to feel the light from Lucius Malfoy's death curse scream past his ear. There was a squawk beside him and Harry turned around properly to see what it was that had saved him.

"Hedwig!" he exclaimed.

Harry caught his bearings for a moment. The struggle with Flint had taken him further away from the school grounds but he could still see the castle lights not far ahead of him. Malfoy was still right on top of him, his mask now fallen off, dirt and blood lining his normally well-groomed complexion.

"Avada Kedavra!" Malfoy cried.

Harry pulled the Firebolt straight up into the sky to avoid Malfoy's curse. He kept flying higher and higher and felt the swirling wind start to take hold of the broomstick.

Malfoy lost direction for a moment but was soon in pursuit.

Harry finally straightened his broomstick and found himself very high in the sky. He realized he must be somewhere around three or four hundred meters above the tops of the trees. The school grounds lay sprawled out just ahead of him and he suddenly saw the tips of all the wand lights coming from the top of Gryffindor Tower. They must have seen him. Perhaps that also meant that Voldemort had not managed to take over the school. Harry felt his heart swell with hope again. If only he could hang on just a little longer.

Malfoy finished his ascent and straightened his broomstick to fall just behind Harry. Suddenly, both riders were hit with jolts of turbulence as high heavy winds tossed them about like feathers. Harry tightened his grip on the Firebolt. Malfoy tried to fire but he kept missing wildly and he finally had to use both of his hands just to keep control of his buffeting broomstick. It was just as Harry had planned.

"I told you, Potter," Lucius Malfoy cried into the night air. "I told you you'd meet the same end as your parents one day! Think about it, Potter: in the end, your parents were finally defeated, your godfather got what he deserved, and now, finally, you will go to join them!"

Harry did not gratify Malfoy with a response. He knew that the Dark Wizard was trying to eat away at his nerve because he could no longer reach him with his wand. Harry concentrated his anger at Malfoy through his broomstick and egged it down toward the school. In a few moments, he would pass over the threshold of the Forbidden Forest and across the perimeter onto the grounds. He swung his head around and saw Malfoy beginning to pull back. It was working. He couldn't or wouldn't follow him to Hogwarts. Harry had escaped. He had made it.

Harry was so consumed in his reverie, however, that he did not notice Malfoy flying down out of the wind to release his wand hand yet again. He was too far away to see the shrewd smile that curled up the sides of Malfoy's face and he was out of earshot when Malfoy took out his wand and cried out into the night:

"Accio Firebolt!"

Harry suddenly felt a hard jerk on his hands. His broomstick was slipping away from his grasp underneath him. He struggled to hold on but it was no use. He swung backwards and felt his hands slide away from the handle. Harry made a final desperate grasp at the bristles at the end of his beloved broomstick but finally came away with only these in his hand. He caught a brief glimpse of his Firebolt flying through the air into Malfoy's waiting grip. Malfoy took hold of it and then spun away in the opposite direction.

Harry tumbled backwards and felt his momentum carry him over the school grounds. He let out an ironic laugh he did not know he had been holding. In the end, he had finally made it home.

But Harry also knew that he would never be able to survive a fall from this height. He watched the earth below him loom closer and closer. Lucius Malfoy had been right: Harry had resisted the Dark Lord for longer than anyone could have dreamed possible but now he, too, was going to die.