The Hunter And The Haunted

Part 9

Cracks resounded as the Hounds apparated into the maze. Cold laughter against the wails of anguish as one of the Hounds found their mark.

"Curcio!"

Hermione tried not to let the screaming get to her. Remind her of the time she once screamed as loudly. Instead, she dragged Luna along, her bare feet burned as she treaded a particular weed and she fell forward, collapsing into the tall hedge of the weaving maze.

From the corners of the maze, the crowds cheered from their levitating platforms. Joyous, excited... revolting.

"19. And what fun to be able to watch the deaths through the eyes of our beloved hounds, may I add." Boomed Bellatrix's voice over the deafening roar of the audience.

"Hermione," Luna whispered, pulling her to her feet. "Out, out, out. Of the maze. You need water." She pointed at the offending bit of grass.

"Thrideweed."

Hermione gritted her teeth and nodded, boils of hot pus beginning to form on the instep of her right foot. The boils would burst and every bit of skin the pus touches would lead to more boils. Unless she put the foot into some water. And quickly.

A high-pitched laughter, too close to where the girls were, followed a young boy's sobbing, begging voice. Hermione, with her arm looped around Luna's shoulder and her foot burning as the welts grew steadily, let out a quiet whimper as the girls scrambled through the maze. Hermione held the wand up on her palm, whispering "Point me."

The wand did nothing.

"Not your wand, your wand, Wand," Anxiety seemed to wreck Luna's ability to form coherent sentences as she mumbled and she shook her head, her grip firm on Hermione's waist, urging the taller girl forward. She took a deep breath and whispered shakily into Hermione's ear.

"You need to make it listen since it hasn't chosen you. The wand chooses the wizard. But it channels your magic. Remember that. Without you, it is powerless. Without you, it is just a stick."

Without you, it's powerless.

Dennis Creevey's screams were abruptly snuffed out with the laughing female's "Avada kedavra!"

"18!"

Hermione steeled her will and, through gritted teeth,

"Point. Me."

The wand jiggled on her palm and, with the reluctance of a mouse edging into a trap, spun around pointing them west through the weaving maze, with hedges bursting in front of them at every turn.

"17"

The welts on her feet were now the size of grapes, and one of her toes was so painfully big and purple that the warm dinner she had a while back threatened to make a reappearance.

"16!"

More screams this time. And a faint sizzle in the distance. Cheers from the audience.

"15!"

Whispering twenty facts about hippogriffs and almost carrying Hermione, Luna pushed through. The wand on Hermione's palm adjusts itself every now and then, to point them the way out of the maze towards the west side.

"14. And it seems like some of the hounds forget that we are expecting a show." Bellatrix sounded disappointed and her audience agreed with her, groaning.

"There's a lake. Lake around the maze." Luna's voice was barely a whisper against Hermione's ear. The welts on her foot were threatening to burst.

"We cannot stop, Hermione. We cannot stop." As Hermione's steps drove to a halt and she staggered.