Captured

Chapter Four: Prison

Harry knew something was wrong when the sun's final rays disappeared beyond the horizon and Hermione was still not back. His scar was prickling, like it often did when something was wrong, and that only served to increase the anxiety he felt as he stared out through the rain filled forest.

"Hermione should be back by now." Harry said, a note of worry present in his tone.

"Honestly, I'm starving too," Ron grumbled in response, not taking his eyes from the knight in front of him, destroying another pawn in the game of chess he was currently playing against himself.

"Ron. I'm being serious. Hermione should be back by now. I think something's wrong."

Ron looked up then, confusion and worry breaking through the typical scowl he wore these days.

"You... you reckon?" He asked nervously, glancing past Harry towards the gloomy forest beyond.

"I do. I think we should go after her."

There was no hesitation in Ron now as he stood at the seriousness in Harry's voice. Ron had a difficult time with his emotions, Harry was no stranger to that himself, but he knew that Ron would drop anything and everything if he thought Hermione was truly at risk.

The two boys left the safety of their enchantments as they hurried through the trees towards the town that Hermione was hopefully still at. The rain became heavier as they walked, soaking through them to the bone, but Harry didn't care. He could tell by the purpose in Ron's long strides that he didn't particularly care either. By the time they reached the edge of the forest, the two of them had broken into a run. They flew through the field that separated the outskirts of the town and the wooded area they were hiding in for the night until Harry slid to a stop, his stomach dropping as he saw the marks left just outside the town. It looked like a herd of Hippogriffs had trampled through, if Hippogriffs typically congregated in circles outside of muggle towns.

His eyes followed the mark left from something heavy sliding through the mud to the point it stopped. He knelt down, his heart pounding as he looked for what he already knew he'd find. And there it was, something of hers. Something that proved that his best friend had been taken God knows where. Just sticking out of the puddle it was soaking in, barely visible, was a bit of pink fabric that he recognized immediately as hers. It was the only jacket for herself she had brought with them. It was her favorite.

He reached out trembling fingers to pull the fabric from where it lay and tucked it into his pocket. He felt Ron approach before he saw him and when he glanced up into his ashy face, he saw the confirmation of what he already knew etched there in the despair lining his every feature.

"She's gone," he rasped out in a desperate voice, "they took her."

Harry stood, his temper always so close to the surface rising like a phoenix.

"We're going to get them, Ron." His voice was dangerously low, and as he met Ron's stormy blue gaze he knew they'd both do anything they needed to in order to get her to safety.

Too many people had already died for this war, for him. He refused to allow either of his best friends to be added to the list.

"We need to go back to the camp and get ready to follow them."

Ron didn't bother responding, he just turned and started running back for their camp, and Harry didn't waste any time in following him.

They tore through the enchantments to their little camp and before Harry could blink, Ron was inside and pulling out the map Hermione scrutinized every night when debating on where to take them next.