NIGHTMARE ₁, Harry Potter °

xxxi. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴

They were over the Hogwarts grounds, they had passed Hogsmeade; Aurora could see mountains and gullies below them. As the daylight began to fail, Aurora saw small collections of lights as they passed over more villages, then a winding road on which a single car was beetling its way home through the hills...

"This is bizarre!" Harry barely heard Ron yell from somewhere behind her, and she imagined how it must feel to be speeding along at this height with no visible means of support.

Twilight fell: the sky was turning to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars, and soon only the lights of Muggle towns gave them any clue of how far from the ground they were, or how very fast they were travelling. Aurora's arms were wrapped tightly around her horse's neck as she willed it to go even faster. How much time had elapsed since Harry had seen Sirius lying on the Department of Mysteries floor? How much longer would Sirius be able to resist Voldemort? All Aurora knew for sure was that her father had neither done as Voldemort wanted, nor died, for she was convinced that either outcome would have caused Harry to feel Voldemort's jubilation or fury course through his own body, making his scar sear as painfully as it had on the night Mr. Weasley was attacked, he would have told them if that happened.

On they flew through the gathering darkness; Aurora's face felt stiff and cold, her legs numb from gripping the Thestral's sides so tightly, but she did not dare shift his position lest she slip... she was deaf from the thundering rush of air in her ears, and her mouth was dry and frozen from the cold night wind. She had lost all sense of how far they had come; all her faith was in the beast beneath her, still streaking purposefully through the night, barely flapping its wings as it sped ever onwards.

If they were too late... He's still alive, he's still fighting, I can feel it... If Voldemort decided Sirius was not going to crack Harry'd know, he'd tell them...

Aurora's stomach gave a jolt; the Thestral's head was suddenly pointing towards the ground and she actually slid forwards a few inches along its neck. They were descending at last... she thought she heard a shriek behind her and twisted around dangerously, but could see no sign of a falling body... presumably they had all received a shock from the change of direction, just as she had.

And now bright orange lights were growing larger and rounder on all sides; they could see the tops of buildings, streams of headlights like luminous insect eyes, squares of pale yellow that were windows. Quite suddenly, it seemed, they were hurtling towards the pavement; Aurora gripped the Thestral with every last ounce of her strength, braced for a sudden impact, but the horse touched the dark ground as lightly as a shadow and Aurora slid from its back, looking around at the street where the overflowing skip still stood a short way from the vandalised telephone box, both drained of colour in the flat orange glare of the streetlights.

Ron landed a short way off and toppled immediately from his Thestral on to the pavement.

"Never again," he said, struggling to his feet. He made as though to stride away from his Thestral, but, unable to see it, collided with its hindquarters and almost fell over again. "Never, ever again... that was the worst — "

Hermione and Ginny touched down on either side of him: both slid off their mounts a little more gracefully than Ron, though with similar expressions of relief at being back on firm ground; Neville jumped down, shaking; and Luna dismounted smoothly.

"Where do we go from here, then?" she asked Harry in a politely interested voice, as though this was all a rather interesting day-trip.

"Over here," he said. He gave his Thestral a quick, grateful pat, then led the way quickly to the battered telephone box and opened the door. "Come on!" he urged the others, as they hesitated.