Courage - Harry Potter

-120-

Book: Courage
Chapter 120
Word Count: 3918

Layla's feet touched the road. She saw the achingly familiar Hogsmeade High Street: dark shop fronts, and the mist line of black mountains beyond the village and the curve in the road ahead that led off toward Hogwarts, and light spilling from the windows of the Three Broomsticks.

The door of the Three Broomsticks burst open and a dozen cloaked and hooded Death Eaters dashed into the streets, their wands aloft.

There were too many of them to run. Even attempting it would have give away their position. One of the Death Eaters raised his wand, and the scream stopped, still echoing around the distant mountains.

"Accio Cloak!" roared one of the Death Eaters.

The Summoning Charm had not worked on the cloak. The four friends were still concealed.

"Not under your wrapper, then, Potter?" yelled the Death Eater who had tried the charm and then to his fellows. "Spread now. He's here."

Six of the Death Eaters ran toward them: Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione backed as quickly as possible down the nearest side street, and the Death Eaters missed them by inches. They waited in the darkness, listening to the footsteps running up and down, beams of light flying along the street from the Death Eaters' searching wands.

"Let's just leave!" Hermione whispered. "Disapparate now!"

"Great idea," said Ron.

"We know you are here, Potter, and there's no getting away!" shouted a Death Eater. "We'll find you!"

"They were ready for us," whispered Harry. "They set up that spell to tell them we'd come. I reckon they've done something to keep us here, trap us—"

"What about dementors?" called another Death Eater. "Let 'em have free rein, they'd find him quick enough!"

"The Dark Lord wants Potter dead by no hands but his—"

"—and dementors won't kill him! The Dark Lord wants Potter's life, not his soul. He'll be easier to kill if he's been Kissed first!"

There were noises of agreement.

"We're going to have to try to Disapparate, Harry!" Layla whispered.

Light was suddenly sucked from the environment right up to the stars, which vanished. In the pitch blackness, Layla reached to grab Harry's and Hermione's hands, and Hermione grabbed Ron's. Together, they turned on the spot.

The air through which they needed to move, seemed to have become solid: They could not Disapparate; the Death Eaters had cast their charms well. The cold was biting deeper and deeper into Layla's flesh. She, Harry, Ron, and Hermione retreated down the side street, groping their way along the wall trying not to make a sound. Then, around the corner, gliding noiselessly, came dementors, ten or more of them, visible because they were of a denser darkness than their surroundings, with their black cloaks and their scabbed and rotting hands.

They seemed to be coming more quickly now, taking those dragging, rattling breaths, tasting despair in the air, closing in—

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry whispered. The silver stag burst from his wand and charged: The Dementors scattered and there was a triumphant yell from somewhere out of sight.

"It's him, down there, down there, I saw his Patronus, it was a stag!"

The Dementors had retreated, the stars were popping out again and the footsteps of the Death Eaters were becoming louder; but suddenly, there was a grinding of bolts nearby, a door opened on the left-side of the narrow street, and a rough voice said: "Potter, in here, quick!"