The Light

Chapter 63- The First Wizarding War

The explosions only helped to heighten the ringing in her ears, and Hermione stretched her leg out in front of her, biting back a whimper. Although the material of her trousers was covering it, she knew the gash was deep and she felt her whole body throbbing from the shock and pain of the cut. This was not how this raid had been supposed to go down.

She picked up her wand from beside her and made a move to heal herself when she froze. Hermione poked her head around the corner of the wall, eyes scanning the smoking darkness for any sign of movement. Voices trailed to her, and she shot back around, retracting her head from their view. She couldn't hear what they were saying, there was only an indistinguishable murmur, so she had no idea whether they were friend or foe. It wasn't something she could risk either way.

But the voices grew louder, and closer and Hermione knew she couldn't stay where she was. She managed to get to her feet, biting her bottom lip so hard it bled to keep the whimpers in. Gripping her wand tighter, she edged along the wall, head flattened back, eyes locked on where the voices were coming from. She moved slowly, careful to stay as quiet as possible, turning the corner-

She collided with something hard.

Hermione jumped backwards, gasp leaving her throat before she could stop it. The person's hands closed on her arms. She began struggling without a second's hesitation, writhing and lashing out.

"Hermione!"

She froze. Hermione recognised that hiss. Her wide eyes shot up. "Avery?"

He didn't look particularly pleased to see her. On the contrary, he appeared rather irritated with her. But other than that, he was exactly the same as she remembered him. His hair was a bit longer now, reaching and covering his ears, and a slight stubble had begun to grow around his jaw. He almost blended into the shadows.

"You're unbelievable," Avery said, raising his eyebrows at her.

Hermione, despite her current situation, still had the nerve to look offended. "Excuse me?"

"Imagine if I was someone else wearing the same robes, you'd be dead."

She smiled sweetly at him and said, "It's nice to know that you care."

Avery still had a tight grip on her arms and he didn't seem willing to let go anytime soon. His face fell and he sneered, "You're funny."

"Thank you. I'm glad you noticed."

He rolled his eyes at her, evidently annoyed at her inappropriate prod at humour. She tried to balance her weight, but winched, and a small, pained hiss of air escaped her lips. Avery's eyes cut to her.

They found her leg, where the trouser material was dark and sopping with blood. "You're hurt."

Hermione swallowed. She tried to play it off. "Well done, Sherlock."

She expected him to look at her exasperatedly again, but there was nothing in his dark eyes or marble face to suggest he had heard her. He licked his lips nervously.

All of a sudden, Avery twisted her around and pulled her to his chest, stepping backwards into the shadows. He lifted her slightly, alleviating the weight on her leg. His hand shot up to cover her mouth.

The voices had gotten closer, too close for comfort. Hermione tried to shuffle back into him even more.

"Where the fuck is she?" One of them was saying. It was definitely male.

His companion sighed. "I don't know! You said you saw her come this way!"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed and she turned her head to glance at Avery. His eyes flicked to her, and she could see he was thinking the same thing as she was. Whose side were they on?