Out of Time

Chapter 40

Harry doubles over in pain and Hermione screams, thinking he's been hit by the curse. The snake retreats once more, its length slithering beneath crippled furniture to obtain a better angle to attack again. Draco's wand hand follows it, waiting for an opportunity.

Harry's hands fly to his forehead. Draco's next curse slices haphazardly across the wooden floor as he grips his left forearm, and Hermione knows what's about to come out of Harry's mouth.

But she's got it! She has her hand around the hilt of the sword at last, and she pulls it free as if from its own custom sheath. But she's shaking and she needs both hands. She tosses the bag to Draco, who bobbles it but traps it against his chest.

"He's coming!" Harry hollers, still bent forward in agony. "She called him!"

This is her only chance. Draco's hands are full with his wand and her bag, or else he'd have apparated her away. She knows he would have. The appearance of the sword reignites something in the snake, who hasn't been docile to start with, and it lunges to strike.

The pointed fangs are as long as her index finger and she can't get stuck in her fear now. Not now. She struggles to raise the sword. Gods, it's heavy - how do people swing these infernal things under pressure? But her adrenaline gives her the extra boost and she attacks it like she's swinging a golf club. Her father loved to play golf, even though he was terrible at it, and this thought of her dad makes her eyes blur over with tears.

Her swing comes simultaneously with Draco's latest blasting spell, his only goal to keep the snake pinned down on the far side of the room (or perhaps to propel it clear out of the massive hole in the wall behind it), and she misses. Harry is scrambling towards the pair of them by the doorway and at least that's one thing going right.

The snake's tail loops Harry's ankle, as if it's determined to have him. He tumbles to the floor, losing his wand again as it yanks him backwards.

"NO!" Hermione shrieks, and brings the sword down with both hands. It chops off the snake's tail in a neat swipe and the resulting thrashing moves the bedframe from below. Dark red blood streaks across the floor as it vanishes from sight.

It reappears over the far side of the bed, furious and vital. Its eyes dart between Hermione and Harry, stuck in a moment of indecision. She feels Draco's hand clench around her upper arm and knows she has only seconds. Harry screams, folding in half and grasping for his head again. Voldemort must be nearly there.

Just one more second. Just one. But Draco won't let her get any closer to it. He fires another confringo at the bed, which splinters wildly, shooting wooden shrapnel across the room. As if it knew, the snake dodges and strikes forward a final time.

She's just begun her upswing with the sword, finding that she rather likes approaching the motion from down low. The snake stretches out its neck, fangs bared and glistening, and Hermione closes her eyes. She hears the squelch rather than sees it, and the next thing she feels is the compression of apparition that she doesn't fight.

* * *

Draco did indeed bring them all back to Tankerton Beach, off the coast of Kent. It was the first place he thought of, but also a happy one for him. He'd found Hermione there, and of course, it's one of her favourite places from childhood. There's nothing happy about this landing, though.

There ought to be - his girlfriend just beheaded a snake larger than she is and they were all out safely in the nick of time. But something's wrong with Potter and Hermione is almost insensate with panic. The pair of them collapse on the ground and the ridiculously large sword (where the bloody fuck had that come from? Why do they have it at all? Who carries a mediaeval sword around with them in a handbag the size of Draco's palm?) embeds in the sand by her hip when she drops it.