𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒

XXVII

Act XXVII.

Fortes Fortuna adjuvat.

Fortune favours the brave.

Harry ducked to avoid the overhead branch as he continued to run at full speed. The werewolf hot on his trail had been hunting him for a good ten minutes and showed no signs of giving up. Already, Harry could feel his muscles cramping as sweat continued to pour down his back. His side kept stinging from the burns it had received from a particularly well-aimed hex. Panting like a race horse, he feinted left as he blindly fired a spell and then rushed headlong to his right, all the while praying to gain the advantage in this chase.

However, the werewolf on his tail was determined. Its powerful paws pounded on the ground as it merrily gave chase, thoroughly enjoying this pursuit if its howls of joy were anything to go by. It snapped its powerful jaws twice. It could sense that the boy was close to slowing down and it was already salivating heavily in anticipation of such a wonderful treat.

“Augh!” Harry groaned as his foot got caught on an upturned root and he tripped. Frantically, he tried to scramble up in time. His eyes widened as he saw the terrifying creature leap in the air, its fangs bared and its claws sharp. He screamed in horror as he saw the werewolf’s mouth descend upon him. Any second now he would feel the pain of its bite and the heady scent of blood would permeate the air. Any second now he would be filled with the sick realization of what the werewolf had done.

Any second now…

“Protego!” an angry voice resonated and the werewolf was rebounded high into the air, sent crashing into an oak tree. It whimpered pathetically before it slowly got up again.

“Harry, get on the broom and fly away. Did you hear me, my boy?” Albus told the dazed young man urgently as he grasped him by the arm and shoved a newly transfigured broomstick into his hand. “Do you understand?” Albus asked him again as he shook him a little to get his attention.

Harry blinked up at the old man dazedly, still shaken by his near miss with the werewolf. “What?”

“Fly on this and get Ron. Find a safe place away from here and Apparate. We’ve got what we wanted and we need to go back,” Albus explained to him, still keeping a wary eye on the werewolf that was now steady on its feet.

“But Headmaster! What about you?” Harry asked, aghast, his mind finally comprehending what the old man meant for him to do. He couldn’t just leave him here!

“I shall be fine.” Albus turned to the trembling boy. “Go now. I’ll take care of this.”

As soon as he had uttered those words, another werewolf came running into the clearing, joining the first. They growled at each other briefly, seemingly coming to an agreement, and then they both turned to the figures in front of them.

“Go! Now! Before the whole pack gets here!” Albus gently but firmly pushed the boy aside as he stepped in front of him.

“But-“

“Now, Harry! Ron needs you!” Albus ordered, his voice lined with steel. His wand was held aloft as he fired spell after spell to keep the two werewolves at bay.

Spurred into action by this, and assured in the confidence that the Headmaster could handle himself like he had attested, Harry nodded and hopped onto the broom. Right now, he had to find Ron.

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“Step aside, Granger!” Draco growled as he balled his fists, glowering at the bushy haired witch that stood in his way.