Courage

-115-

Book: Courage
Chapter 115
Word Count: 5086

Hermione pointed her wand, set toward the outside, but into Harry's face; there was a bang, a burst of white light, and Harry buckled in agony, unable to see.

"Get up, vermin."

Unknown hands dragged Harry roughly off the ground, before he could stop them, someone had rummaged through his pockets and removed the blackthorn wand. Harry clutched at his excruciatingly painful face, which felt unrecognizable beneath his fingers, tight, swollen, and puffy as though he had suffered some violent allergic reaction.

"Get off me!" Layla struggled as two men grabbed her by the upper arms, pulling her out of the tent. Hermione was soon pulled out, too.

"Get — off — her!" Ron shouted. There was the unmistakable sound of knuckles hitting flesh: Ron grunted in pain and Hermione screamed, "No! Leave him alone, leave him alone!"

"Your boyfriend's going to have worse than that done to him if he's on my list," said the horribly familiar, rasping voice. "Delicious girl... what a treat... I do enjoy the softness of the skin..."

"Search the tent!" said another voice.

"Now, let's see who we've got," said Greyback's gloating voice, approaching Harry. "I'll be needing butterbeer to wash this one down. What happened to you, ugly?"

Harry did not answer immediately.

"I said," repeated Greyback, and Harry received a blow to the diaphragm that made him double over in pain. "what happened to you?"

"Stung." Harry muttered. "Been Stung."

"Yeah, looks like it." said a second voice.

"What's your name?" snarled Greyback.

"Dudley." said Harry.

"And your first name?"

"I — Vernon. Vernon Dudley."

"Check the list, Scabior." said Greyback, and moved to look at Ron, instead. "And what about you, ginger?"

"Stan Shunpike." said Ron.

"Like 'ell you are." said the man called Scabior. "We know Stan Shunpike, 'e's put a bit of work our way."

There was another thud.

"I'b Bardy," said Ron, and Layla could tell that his mouth was full of blood.

"Bardy Weasley."

"A Weasley?" rasped Greyback. "So you're related to blood traitors even if you're not a Mudblood. And your friend. Who are you, girly?"

"Penelope Clearwater." said Hermione. She sounded terrified, but convincing.

"What's your blood status?"

"Half-Blood." said Hermione.

"And the pretty one," said Greyback, walking over to Layla and stroking her cheek.

"Easy now, Greyback," spoke Scabior, rolling his eyes.

"I won't bite. Unless she asks me to," sneered Greyback. Layla felt her skin crawl, fear washing over her. "And you are?"

"Lavender Brown," lied Layla. "Pureblood."

"Easy enough to check," said Scabior. "But the 'ole lot of 'em look like they could still be 'ogwarts age—"

"We'b lebt," said Ron.

"Left, 'ave you, ginger?" said Scabior. "And you decided to go camping? And you thought, just for a laugh, you'd use the Dark Lords name?"