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The night was unnaturally still, the usual sounds of the Forbidden Forest eerily absent. The trees loomed overhead, their branches casting long shadows across the forest floor. It felt like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen. And it had.
Y/N stumbled through the dense undergrowth, their breath coming in sharp gasps. Every muscle in their body screamed with exhaustion, but they couldn't stop now. They couldn't afford to stop. The Death Eaters were close, too close, and Y/N had been separated from Harry and the others during the chaos of the ambush.
The cold bite of fear gripped Y/N's heart as they ducked behind a tree, trying to catch their breath. They could still hear the distant shouts of the Death Eaters as they scoured the forest, searching for their target. Y/N had managed to evade them so far, but they knew it was only a matter of time before their luck ran out.
"Harry," Y/N whispered, their voice trembling with fear and desperation. They hadn't seen him since the attack started. They had been fighting side by side, but in the chaos, Y/N had been cornered, forced to flee deeper into the forest to avoid capture.
Their heart ached with worry. Harry was strong—he was the Chosen One, after all—but even he couldn't fight an entire group of Death Eaters alone. The thought of him in danger, of him being hurt, was enough to send a fresh wave of fear coursing through Y/N's veins.
Just then, a sharp rustling sound from nearby snapped Y/N out of their thoughts. They pressed themselves closer to the tree, holding their breath as they strained to listen. The sound of footsteps echoed through the forest—heavy, deliberate steps. The Death Eaters had found them.
Panic surged through Y/N, and they glanced around, desperately searching for an escape route. But the forest was too thick, the trees too dense. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
As the footsteps grew louder, Y/N's heart raced in their chest. This was it. They were trapped.
But just as Y/N braced themselves for the worst, they heard it—a voice, clear and strong, cutting through the darkness like a lifeline.
"Stupefy!"
A flash of red light shot through the trees, striking one of the Death Eaters who had emerged from the shadows. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Y/N's heart leapt in their chest as they turned toward the source of the spell.
Harry.
He stood at the edge of the clearing, his wand raised, his expression fierce and determined. His eyes locked onto Y/N's, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Relief washed over Y/N, so intense that it nearly brought them to their knees. He had found them. He had come for them.
Without thinking, Y/N rushed toward him, their heart pounding with both fear and overwhelming love. But before they could reach him, another figure stepped out of the shadows, wand raised, aiming directly at Harry.
