#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
Hermione Granger's eyes reach those of the returned Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, a sign of panic, yet signal, as they then sprint for the fireplaces within the Ministry of Magic. Alarms of their 'intrusion' ricochet off the polished stone walls around them, like that of the spells Yaxley sends their way. The fireplaces serve as a countdown clock to their sure capture, yet further their sprint to a level they have yet to fully acknowledge. Feet race across the ground, quickly as the last fireplace comes into view, still opened, and they throw themselves into the swirling flames of magic, not fire.
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Almost like Apparition, the three, then four bodies, become a jumbled mess of limbs and spells, clinging to their figures as reality is returned, then whisked away. For Harry, it is a numbing and nauseating feeling as he recognizes Yaxley slide into the fireplace behind them, sealing an almost known fate of said Death Eather and the Golden Trio.
Light flashes in their eyes as they move as messes through time and space, from one place to another, just revealing Hermione's fear as Yaxley clenches onto her robe with poisoned and paled fingers, much like Voldemort's himself. And though she finds herself for a millisecond within the confines of Grimmauld Place, she has the trio whizzing off in their next flight, this time permanently apart from Yaxley, still befuddled by the mess of the last minutes.
Harry loses consciousness for mere seconds, unlike Hermione, and in that time Hermione has risen to her feet, analyzing Ron for the injury she knows that she caused. The Boy Who Lived pitches himself onto one elbow with a slow and steady groan that echoes through the light forestry, his other hand cupping the locket that caused this whole mess. A grin spreads across his face as Hermione then acknowledges the negatives to said escape.
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"Harry, quickly, in my bag, there's a small bottle labeled 'Essence of Dittany,'" the girl commands, ever the leader and more than necessary in this war against Voldemort. Harry takes to her worried presence over Ron, his body twitching beneath her in spasms of pain, revealing the true state of their trio. "Quickly!"
Blinking softly, and then quickly, Harry Potter stumbles from his collapsed position on the ground, over to the bag of miraculous and overwhelming information and supplies. Revealing the fault to his intentions, Harry is quick to stop the mass listing of objects, muttering an "Accio Dittany."
