The Werewolf's Child

The Joining Spell

The grounds were dark and completely still. Draco figured it was almost dawn as their small group made their way down the broken front steps and across the great lawn. The entire world seemed to be holding its breath, waiting. Somewhere off in the distance a bird gave a cautious chirrup and went silent.

They entered the Forbidden Forest, following along the path that Draco remembered vaguely, from his first year foray in here with Harry, Fang and Hagrid. It seemed eons ago. The night of the dead unicorn. He wouldn't have minded having Fang with them now. Draco was sure that beast knew these woods better than any human. The path was barely visible before them, faintly lit by the waning moon which was setting through the trees in the western sky. The woods were dead silent. They strode as softly as they could. Every footstep they made, every rustle of their clothing, felt like an intrusion.

Draco heard a soft sound up ahead - a snap - like someone stepping on a twig -and then a man in Death Eater robes stood in the path. "Avada Kedavra!" the masked man hissed softly, without pause, without hesitation. The green killing curse erupted from his wand and headed straight for Luna. Draco, acting on instinct, grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ground. The curse missed her head by inches, landing in the woods behind them in a shower of green sparks.

Before they could catch their breath the forest around them exploded with curses. Draco realized that they had walked into a trap. At least ten Death Eaters emerged from behind the trees. Their small band instantly found they were fighting for their lives.

Draco dodged behind a tree and started casting stunners as fast as he could. Neville dove into the bushes to avoid a curse that was aimed right at him and came up with his face covered in blood. He brandished his wand and kept on fighting. Hermione was backed against a large tree, duelling two Death Eaters at once. Draco took careful aim and got one in the back with a body bind curse but he couldn't get a clear shot at the other one. Dudley, beside him, had Professor Sprout's wand and was casting stunners with single minded focus.

Suddenly a roar came from the dense thicket of woods behind them and the blinding headlights of a very old and rusty blue car lit up the forest. The car, covered with vines and leaves as if it were part of the forest itself, thundered into the fray. It hit two Death Eaters at once, tossing them into the air as if they were sheets of paper stirred by a strong breeze. The rest scattered and ran so they wouldn't get hit, as the car crashed around the woods, running them down with single minded fury, it's headlights making crazy shadows in the dark trees.

"It's Dad's car!" yelled Ron. "The Ford Anglia!" The car stopped in front of Ron as though it had been looking for him. It lowered it's front end in a kind of bow. It's four doors flew open. "Come on!" yelled Ron. "Get in!"

But before they could all pile into the decrepit looking vehicle the sky above them exploded with a loud shriek and the woods were filled with the sound of huge wings beating powerfully overhead. With a whooshing of feathers, Buckbeak landed in the middle of their little group, his beautiful stormy grey plumage lit up eerily in the harsh light of the Ford Anglia. He held a ragged object in his beak. He looked them over with solemn intensity, as if he were searching for someone. When his gaze fell on Neville he stared right at him.

Neville wiped the blood from his face and looked Buckbeak in the eye, then bent one knee and bowed. The hippogryph bowed back, never taking his beady eye off of Neville. With a gesture of his head he motioned for Neville to take the object that he carried in his talons.

It was the sorting hat. Neville stretched out his hands and took it. He reached inside and pulled out something long and silver, crusted with rubies. He held it aloft. The sword of Gryffindor glittered in the headlights of the Ford Anglia.