Ch. 11: Hogwarts Express
"Elle! ELLE?!" In the distance, I could hear Hermione calling my name.
The hoard of people rushing past me and therefore pushing me back was now gone, having either Disapparated away, or used some other form of magic. But, I was tired, and sore, from the hundreds of bodies crashing into me in order to escape. It was darker now than before, the fires set by the Death Eaters having died down to embers.
Death Eaters, I didn't think they still existed.
I couldn't believe it, they were only stories at Sorcellerie. A history lecture that was told to me about an old world through textbooks, though it wasn't too long ago. But, here they were, very much alive. Very much ready to kill.
"Elle, over here!" Hermione's voice rung out across the dishevelled landscape. I turned my head and, in the distance, I spotted her and Ron, covered in soot and bruises, like me, but all right. "Are you all right? Where's Harry?" Hermione called, closing the long distance between us.
I looked skyward, a glint catching my eye. Slithering in the air like a menacing cloud, was the Dark Mark. I'd never seen it in person. It was horrifying and chilling all at once. "I don't know," I said, forcing my eyes away from the terrible stain in the sky to focus instead on the missing Boy Wonder. "I-I lost him in the crowd."
"Harry?" Hermione called, "HARRY?"
"Bloody hell," Ron cursed, running a hand through his hair as his face paled. " 'arry? Harry where are you?!"
"Come on," Hermione bit her lip, holding her wand out in front of her and taking me by surprise. "We've got to find him, he could be seriously injured."
We searched high and low for Harry Potter, calling out into the distopian waste that had been a fun camp site only an hour before, hoping that Harry was out there somewhere, alive and all right.
"Harry?! Harry!" Hermione shouted again, combing through a pile of rubble. "HARRY?!"
Then, just as we had begun to fear we wouldn't hear it, Harry's voice called out in the distance: "Over here!"
There was a rush of relief as the three of us hopped over piles of ash and destroyed belongings to reach the place where Harry was standing, glasses askew a few cuts on his cheeks, but otherwise all in one piece.
Before Hermione could tackle him with questions, Harry told her not to worry, anticipating the reaction my sister would have to his sudden appearence after a long disappearance. "I'm fine, Hermione, honestly," Harry sighed and brushed himself off.
Suddenly, as if his words had envoked a bad luck charm, multiple wizards appeared all around us and pointed their wands in our faces, shouting Stupefy.
Frightened out of my mind, I dropped onto the ground and covered my head until Mr Weasley made his way onto the scene, yelling at the group trying to stun us. I couldn't make out what he was saying over the pounding of my pulse or the blasts of spells hitting the Earth, but he said something to get them to lower their weapons. When they finally stopped, I got off of my stomach and onto my feet, brushing myself off, fear turning into righteous anger.
"Which one of you conjured it?!" A man with a thick mustache waved his wand at the Hermione, Harry, Ron and myself.
Mr. Weasley stepped in front of his wand, protectively and shook his head. "Crouch, they're just kids!"
Harry turned to Hermione. "What are they talking about."
"It's the Dark Mark, Harry." Hermione whispered while I stared up at the sickening signal in the sky. "His mark." I knew he would understand to whom she was referring.
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