CHAPTER TWO

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2 | the life and lies of albus dumbledore

𝟷 𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟽

HERMIONE DID NOT know where to begin, but it did not matter at the moment, when something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Heads turned as those nearest it froze absurdly in mid-dance. Then the Patronus mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep slow in the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt:

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

Everything seemed fuzzy and slow. Harry and Hermione jumped to their feet and drew their wands. Many people were only realising that something strange had happened, heads were still turning toward the silver cat as it vanished. Silence spread outward in cold ripples from the place where the Patronus had landed. Then somebody screamed.

Harry and Hermione threw themselves into the panicking crowd. Guests were sprinting into all directions, many were disapparating as the protective enchantments around the Burrow had broken.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, glancing around the area for the redhead boy. "Ron, where are you?!"

As they pushed their way across the dance floor, Hermione saw cloaked and masked figures appearing in the crowd; then she saw Lupin and Tonks, their wands raised and heard both of them shout, "Protego!", a cry that was echoed in all sides—

"Ron! Ron!" Hermione called then, half sobbing as she and Harry were buffered with terrified guests. Harry seized her hand to make sure they weren't separated as a streak of light whizzed over their heads, whether a protective charm or something more sinister, she didn't know.

And then Ron was there. He caught hold of Hermione's free arm and Hermione turned on the spot. Sight and sound were extinguished as darkness fell upon her. All she could feel were Harry and Ron's hands as they were squeezed through space and time, away from the Burrow, away from the descending Death Eaters and perhaps away from Voldemort himself.

As her feet landed on solid ground, she became aware that they were surrounded by people, cars honking here and there, lights blaring around them.

"Where are we?" asked Ron.

"Tottenham Court Road," answered Hermione. "Walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere we can change. You've brought your bags?"

"Yes," Harry and Ron answered, still catching their breath from the sudden attack and apparation.

They half walked and half ran up the wide dark street thronged with late-night revellers and lined with closed shops, stars twinkling above them. A double-decker bus rumbled by and a group of merry pub-goers ogled them as they passed; Harry and Ron were still wearing their dress robes. Ron's cheeks went red when a young woman burst into raucous giggles at the sight of him.

"Here. This will do," Hermione said, leading them down a side street, then into a shelter of a shadowy alleyway.

Harry pulled out his shrunken bag from his pockets and lifted the charm to turn it back into its normal size. He pulled out his pair of jeans, his sweatshirt, some maroon socks and then finally the silvery Invisibility Cloak. Ron and Hermione did the same and changed. Harry then threw the cloak around his shoulders and pulled it over his head, vanishing from sight.

"The others—everybody at the wedding—"

"We can't worry about that now," whispered Hermione as she pulled down her shirt. "It's you they're after, Harry, and we'll just put everyone in even more danger by going back."

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