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Steady sounds of swooshes and the loud percussive bangs of spells resounded through the forest. It was all Hermione could hear besides her own heavy breathing.
She backed up as she blocked spells from three death eaters who had spread out, trying to bring her down. They were surrounded.
She couldn't look behind her but she felt Harry, the feel of his magic as familiar as her own. They backed up into each other as they fought too many death eaters. They fought back to back, both doing too much defense and not enough offense.
Even a powerful witch and wizard would slide into exhaustion, eventually.
Then the inevitable happened: Hermione was a second too slow and a cutting spell whipped by her, slicing her side. She gasped, going down on one knee.
"Hermione."
She didn't know how she heard it, but his whisper was so clear to her. Her wand hadn't stopped moving, despite the wound.
There was no time for even a small healing spell and blood dripped freely down her side as she continued to fight.
Harry cast a protection spell and a small dome suddenly flickered over them absorbing the spells. Cracks immediately forming as the death eaters speed picked up sensing they were almost at their limit. The sudden respite from the fight was almost too much for Hermione, and she wobbled as she lowered her arm.
Harry was in front of her, his pale green eyes fierce. "Do you trust me, Hermione?"
"Of course."
Harry drew his wand across his hand, a large cut opening, then he covered her wound with his.
"Harry!" Her eyes widened in alarm. What the hell?
He waved his wand at their bleeding wounds, muttering in Latin. The effect of the spell was almost immediate, like a tug at her very soul.
Harry stood as his protective ward cracked then dissipated, its magic spent under the onslaught of the death eaters.
He waved his wand in the air and black smoke emitted from the end, whirling around him like a tornado. The spells sent at them from the death eaters were caught up in the maelstrom twisting around in the black smoke.
Hermione felt the draw on her magic then, cold and malevolent.
As if the devil himself had reached in taking a piece of her power. She couldn't keep herself upright. She slid back until she was flat on the ground, looking up at Harry as he fought them all. The death eaters circled him, their spells flying towards him and the black smoke that surrounded them both.
The world seemed hazy, the noise of the spells fading for her. But Harry seemed so clear, every detail of him sharp. The ripped, dirty jacket he wore. The wild mess of his black spiky hair. The dark glinting gleam of the cursed amulet he wore around his neck. His face set, and green eyes so pale they looked almost colorless.
She had never seen Harry look that way before. He looked cold and merciless as his wand whipped about in a frenzy, directing the black smoke that whirled around them absorbing the spells the death eaters cast.
He glanced down at her briefly, and maybe there was regret. She couldn't be sure, it was so quick.
There was another hard pull on her power, and it became difficult to hold her eyes open. As her eyes closed she heard him shout.
"Metis quod seminas!"
Magic exploded from them as if they were the epicenter of a bomb, and she heard the death eaters screaming before they were suddenly, ominously silenced.
The ensuing silence was loud, the wind whistling through the branches seemed magnified. Harry's magic felt cold as he cast a healing charm on her wounded side. Then he picked her up, her face resting against his neck as he carried her.
"What did you do?" Her whisper was shaky. She didn't open her eyes for fear of what she might see. Why had the death eaters screamed? And even more frightening... Why had they stopped so abruptly?
Harry was silent for a long time as he walked, and she thought he wouldn't answer.
Eventually she felt the shift in the air as they made it back to the tent and he walked in to lay her on the sleeping cot.
His hand was freezing as he pushed her hair back from her face and she shivered, her eyes opening.
"I did only what was necessary."
A dark coldness gleamed in his eyes, and she felt a tingle of fear. Despite her blood loss, despite him depleting her magic for his spell her arm shot out grasping the cursed amulet he wore around his neck.
"Give it to me. You've worn it too long."
He hesitated, and her heart thumped hard.
But slowly his hands rose, and he took it off handing it to her.
"It wasn't the amulet." His voice was soft.
"That wasn't you." She turned away from him, putting the amulet over her head, afraid to look into his eyes and see what might still be lurking in his gaze.
