The Snake Princess

AN: I know it was a long hiatus. The secondary project kinda took control over me. The plan was to leave the Ranma story as something to let off steam. As I said: It was the plan! Didn't work out like that. If you haven't heard of the manga and want something crazy funny, I recommend it! It's great stuff! Although you will have to accept some things that are really strange to people who don't understand how the Japanese mindset works.

Have fun reading! See ya around!

Chapter 10: Out of the Pocket

The hallways were desolate. Everything was covered with a fine layer of ash and soot, darkened by the fire that had consumed much of the building. Harry pushed deeper into the derelict mansion. He was cautious. Ready to act at a moment's notice. Ever so slowly he and the two girls with him crept forward. They were nervous. There was someone prowling in this place with a gun. It didn't sit well with the small group. Wands they were used to. It was part of their routine. Facing a firearm was a different matter. Then there was the crazed spider-slinging elf. That crazed face, the insane toothy smile, it would be the root of many nightmares to them in the following years.

And there was the silence. The utter silence that surrounded them. It was unnerving. The ash under their feet was like a fine powder. It muffled each of their steps. The only sound around them was an ever-present, barely audible noise made by the wind. A low whistle that was coming from all directions. It was like the moan of the dying. It gave all of them the creeps.

The trio reached another room. Harry glanced inside. Hermoine had his back. Over the years he learned to trust the girl with his life. In the room, there was nothing aside from more destruction. Another burnt-out husk. Just like the others before. Piles of charred dust and rubble was all that was left from the furniture. All the destruction was illuminated by the light that was streaming in through a decrepit hole that was once a window.

The group moved on. All the way to the next door, ever vigilant. They did not want to be surprised again. One acromantula bite was enough for the day.

Astoria remained quiet. As much as she hated it, she was forced to stay still. To rely on Hermione and the levitation spell cast by the older girl. It was not to her liking. Not one little bit. She was an active person. Always ready to take the helm. Sitting around and letting others do the work was not her style. Now she had to; forced to do so because of the poison circulating in her body. She felt it. The uncomfortable tingling all was all over her, driving her nuts. The numbness of her muscles was even worse. She knew she wasn't in full control of her body anymore. The numbness, the slight involuntary twitches were even worse. But she fought on. She was not one the type to give up after a small sting. The girl tightened her grip on her wand. One way or another she was determined to see it through to the end.

The small group reached another door. Harry peered inside. He took a step back, shuddering.

"What is it?" asked Hermione. She knew all too well how hard it was to knock him off balance.

Harry remained steeled himself. His face was unreadable. "Skeleton," he responded after a few seconds. The girls froze. Hermione had her answer. She managed to keep from shivering. When they walked past, both females made sure to keep their gaze away from the entrance.

As the students pressed on, deeper into the mansion, the walls around them became more rugged. They were apparently getting closer to what once was the centre of the inferno. The damage done by the fire was getting worse. There were some iron fixtures here and there that had been completely warped by the heat that once reigned over the place. Now they were nothing more than rust eaten mementoes.

The cracks lining the walls were getting bigger. Large chunks of the wall were missing. After a while, it became obvious that the only thing keeping the ruins standing was the magic that had seeped into every stone of the manor. Or at least the remnants of thereof.

The slow but steady pace dictated by Harry's movement was suddenly stopped. Her froze and lifted his hand pointing at and irregularity in front of them. He didn't say a word. The girls glanced at the place he indicated. The girl remained silent. It didn't take long for them to locate the anomaly. It was blindingly obvious. One of the doorways was different. Unlike the rest of the building, it looked untouched. For some strange reason, it was spared and remained seemingly untouched. Its frames were golden. The decoration on it was intricate. Flowers and different patterns were sown all across it. Those patterns were familiar to Astoria. She had seen them before.

It was the very same pattern she had seen on that booby-trapped letter not too long ago. The girl stared at the pillars with goosebumps running up and down on her back. Beforehand it was just a guess. Now she was sure. The letter and this mansion were somehow connected. The only question that was left was how.

"I think we stumbled across something!" remarked Hermione quietly as she and Harry approached the anomaly. The third years exchanged a look. They were suspicious, but at the same time, they also knew this is their best possible way out of this hellhole.

"We usually do this at the end of the year," remarked Harry casting a series of detection spells at the gateway.

"It was starting to get dull. Admit it!" responded the bushy girl with a smile. The spells came out negative. The doorway was clean.

"I could do without having to face off against a basilisk another time." countered Harry.

"You and me too!" responded Hermione. "So what if it is a trap?" she asked.

"We do the usual! We go in and ride it out!" answered the boy.

"Sounds about right!" responded Hermione.

Astoria could only stare at her two companions as they slowly delved deeper into what she assumed was some sort of gallows humour. The statements they made was clear that they weren't strangers to danger. The remark about the basilisk had really hit home. It also gave her some semblance of comfort. She was with two who had been in similar situations. Together they will make it.

Daphne was seething. Each step she took was wobbly. Her legs were threatening to give in, but through sheer willpower she kept herself going. She wanted to find that dammed elf and finish the job, which by the creature's looks had been started years ago. That accursed thing had made a mockery of her. Subjected her to some variant of the Cruciatus curse. Taunted her. Everything that little bastard did! It was an insult that couldn't be left standing.

She slipped another bullet into the magazine. Her action was accompanied by a soft click as the ordinance slipped into its place. She was happy that she adopted the habit of carrying around large amounts of spare ammo. The Weasley boy was too generous about dispersing her weapon's ordinance. He ran out of rounds far too quickly and without doing any damage beyond messing up the already devastated ballroom even more.

The girl was not really mad at the boy. He was a wizard, not a marksman. Also, the little menace bounced around the place like a ping-pong ball high on crack. She was a good shot, but even she would have had trouble hitting that dammed thing. In top shape. In her current state, she had no chance. This meant she was forced to relinquish her weapon. To give it to a complete untrained novice.

The magazine let out another click as she fed it another 9mm charge. The girl fought to keep from lashing out at something. Anything, around her. Despite her best efforts the humiliation she had been subjected to by that elf came back to her. The annoying laughter, having her leg magically pulled from underneath her, even the pain of landing face-first on the floor was something she could deal with. She would have carried on with no fuss. Having her skirt flipped. That was a different matter. Then came the soon to be dead elf's remark of "Black, lace!" That had made if personal. Daphne wanted that accursed thing dead!

Even more importantly she had to find that accursed thing before it got to Astoria. Should she fail… Daphne didn't even dare to think about it. There was no way she would be able to look her father in the eyes once she crosses that threshold of life should she fail. Neither would she be able to gaze into a mirror without flinching ever again. She knew she was making that particular weakness too obvious, but at this moment she couldn't care less. Her sister was in trouble and anyone who got in her way would feel her wrath.

Another click, another bullet was in position. The fifteenth. The magazine was finally full. "May I?" she spoke addressing the boy on her side. She was leaning onto him just to be able to walk. Daphne detested that she was forced to use him as a makeshift crutch. Without Ron's help, she would be barely able to take a step. She hated the feeling. She was a Greengrass! The thugs of the magical world trembled at the mention of her name. Now she had to rely on this idiot just to get around the place.

"Here! You might as well keep it!" responded Ron handing the gun over. "I don't even know how muggles are able to make that stupid thing work."

Daphne didn't answer. She was afraid she might become more than verbal. The boy didn't do anything to deserve it. By all accounts, he could have left her for dead and made an attempt on his own to get out. By all accounts, the two of them were stuck together in this. Her especially. She was forced to rely on the Gryffindor boy to find Astoria. The girl grabbed her weapon and with some difficulty slid the magazine into its slot. She grabbed the slide and pulled it roughly back, chambering the first round. When she released the top it snapped back into position with an audible click signalling that the weapon was ready to go.

After a few seconds of thought, the girl tried aiming. She tried to concentrate, to keep her arm still and straight, it was no use. Despite her best effort, it was hopeless. Her arm was shaking. Twitching all around the place. Her grip wasn't strong enough. The recoil would most definitely rip the weapon from her grasp. Hitting anything was completely down to luck. It was something she didn't want to count on.

After making sure that the gun was in a working order Daphne handed it back to the boy, silently. She did not like it, but it was better to have it in a steady hand even if it was an untrained one.

"You sure about this?" asked Ron eyeing the beretta. He wasn't into muggle things like his father. As far he understood the muggles were worse off on every possible way when compared to magicals. This contraption was just another proof to him. A wand was a versatile tool that can be used again and again. This thing was only good for a single thing. What was, as far he could understand, slinging a small metal pellet at a high velocity at your opponent. Even that had a hard cap to it before the tool had to be recharged. His conclusion came down to one thought: "Muggles are weird!"

"No!" answered Daphne angrily. She was not one bit happy about her decision. As far as she was concerned she literally handed a loaded gun to a child. The fact that she wasn't even a whole month older and by law shouldn't be able to carry one was of secondary importance to her.

She slowly but surely stumbled across the empty hallway. Ron was there supporting her all the way. All he could do was to tag along with the girl and try to keep her out of as much trouble she gets him into. Or at least try. He was sure of one thing. This place was everything but secure. First a swarm of acromantula and now a crazed house elf. Walls, which by the looks of them could barely stand. He had to admit that the girl had the right idea. They had to get to the bottom of things and get back to Hogwarts. She needed medical attention and he needed to find a quiet place where he could faint. Why he didn't collapse when facing that illusion was something beyond him.

The two pressed on without finding much. Destruction, decay, and the occasional bit that was left of the residents. They didn't care much about that. Daphne accepted it with an icy demeanour. Ron was beyond getting creeped out. He already had his dose for the day.

They kept moving. Slowly but surely. It was a simple forward path. Easy to follow. In Ron's opinion too easy. In a sense it was strange. The path that they were taking was too obvious. A mansion of this size should be a maze. A place where any visitor would always be in the danger of getting lost. But not here. Each time they came to a conjunction the path forward was clear. Any other path would be blocked one way or another. A collapsed floor or a huge pile of refuse. It was too easy. It was as if they were getting lead down a certain path. He did not like that thought at all. It was something he had often done himself during his chess games. The only difference was that this time he was one of those getting led down a path. And the stakes were their lives. Not something he would ever risk gambling.

Then they came across something strange. A pristine entrance. The frames of it were completely unaffected by whatever took place in the house. It looked like brand new. The decoration was pretty much on the expensive side of things. The thing was almost screaming 'trap' at him. When he glanced at Daphne she was looking at him. The way she looked at him made it clear that she was thinking the very same thing. Something was not right. However, what other choice did they have but following the path set out for them?

Harry was nervous as he was about to enter the strange room what they guessed was a library of some sort. He and Hermione subjected the entrance to security spell they could think of and then some. All came out clean. There was no deadly trap, not illusion nothing. The only thing they found were the remnants of a powerful ward. One no longer active. As far they could guess it was that ward that saved the room from being consumed by the firestorm that had raged outside.

It looked like it was safe to enter. That didn't mean Harry was any more relaxed. He knew that a good trap was the one you don't notice until it is too late. The only problem was that the place was their best bet at getting home. It was also looked suspicious. Harry knew they all knew that the place was a trap in some way. It had to be! But the possible rewards made the risk worth it. This room was their best bet at finding a way back to school. They had to take the risk.

The boy took a deep breath and stepped forward. He waited for the telltale surge of magic ready to make a fight of whatever was in store for a trespasser. There was none. He took a few tentative steps into the room. Any attack was yet to come. His eyes scanned the interior. The place was huge. It easily took up two floors. There were entire apartments that were much smaller than this single room. The shelves reached up to the ceiling all of them full of books and tomes. Rows upon rows of them.

The only part the wasn't filled with books was a small area set aside for studies. An old sofa a desk and a chair. They all seemed to had been subjected to heavy use. He also noticed something else. Something that was very out of place. A bed. A human-sized one. It was well kept and neat, although the wear and tear and the age of the furniture was all too apparent. There were no windows, the only form of light seemed to come from some form of magical source on the ceiling.

The bed was also a good sign that the ruins were home to someone else other than the crazed elf. Someone human. Hermione was filled with mixed feelings about the place. On one end there were all the books. All the stored knowledge stored away. This was what they were looking for a way to get back to Hogwarts. At the same time, she was well aware of the danger. The elf wasn't alone. Now it was certain. There was a human occupant to this place. The way the elf had greeted them made it clear that the residents were not too fond of visitors.

Harry was thinking along the same line as Hermione. This library looked a promising place. The problem was that he had no real idea if it was THE place they were looking for. There was a high chance that it could be only some sort of decoy. An illusion or just part of an elaborate ruse. "Any suggestions?" he asked. Curious about the input the girls could give him. "We don't really have time to read books, but I doubt we'll stumble into anything better than this."

Hermione nodded agreeing with Harry's sentiment to the fullest. "Let's check everything. I know it could take time, but this room is our best bet at getting out of here."

Astoria remained silent. She tried to answer, but despite her attempts, the best she could manage was to open and close her mouth. Control over her tongue was something that had been beyond her. Most of her face was numb. All she could feel was an annoying tingling feeling. It was spreading fast. She kept putting on a brave face, but as time was passing the girl was starting to fear for her life.

While the young girl was fighting to keep control over her own body the other two had come to an agreement. Staying in the library was deemed dangerous. But at the same time, it was their best shot out of their situation. After a quick sweep, they would subject the room to a more thorough investigation. Even with the possible dangers, this room was the best they had.

Harry and Hermione went to work. The brunette witch released her spell making sure that Astoria would settle on a comfortable looking chair. As easy at the levitation spell was she could do her search quicker and would be more thorough, if she didn't have to worry about maintaining the magical energies needed to keep the younger girl in the air. It was also the first time they found a decent spot within the manor that wasn't filled to the brim with soot and filth.

Once Astoria was settled safely the third-years went to work. They were systematic. Going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. Everything that even had the vaguest hint, at being useful was delivered to the desk right in front of the first-year. Slowly but surely a small pile of promising looking things was starting to form. A tome on creating portkeys, some hastily scribbled notes that were titled Apparation, and an official-looking paper that looked like a contract about a fireplace which was connected to the floo network. The questions connected to it were: Where is it? Is it still usable?

Astoria couldn't do much to help in the search. In her state, she would probably be more of a hindrance than a help. There was one thing she could do. What was to take a closer look at the leads her compatriots gathered. Originally the girl wanted to start with the tome but that proved to be too heavy. Astoria was appaled how far she had deteriorated. Usually, she wouldn't have had any problem with lifting it, but now it was a struggle to even move the thick book. After a short struggle, she accepted that she won't get much of the codex today.

She moved on to the papers dealing with Apparation. They were simple notes describing how the transportation worked. As far as she could guess the papers were written by someone who was trying to master this form of travel. They were neat, well ordered and informative. The wizard working with them was probably one of the better ones. The handwriting looked somehow familiar to her. Her gut screaming at her telling the girl to leg it and not look back. She was sure she had seen them some place before. The girl shook her head and continued her research.

After leafing through the papers she placed them to the side with a frown. While using apparation to get back to Hogwarts looked promising they did not have time to learn a completely new form of travel. She also didn't want to risk leaving her limbs all over the country in the case of an accident. Thus, with a heavy sigh, she moved on to the next one. A slim book in a brown binding. She tried to continue her search, but her gaze always returned to those apparation notes. She knew she had seen writing like that before. To her, it was like the proverbial itch. Astoria grabbed the papers once again and inspected the scripture. It was then that the realization finally hit her. The girl shuddered.

When the girl looked up to calm herself something else caught her attention. Above the desk, attached to the wall, there was a piece of paper what appeared to be a cut-out from some old newspaper. By the moving picture, she guessed from some magical paper. She knew the person on that picture. It was her mother, trying to act like her usual regal self. Only this time she seemed to have failed at that. Miserably. She was hunched forward. Clear blue eyes were full of sorrow. Her make up a mess. Astoria also noticed a younger version of herself and Daphne on that picture. Everything came together when she saw the coffin. It was a picture from the Daily Prophet that was taken years ago. The title read: 'Suceccfull Businessman Killed by Werewolf'. The article was about her father's funeral. It was the last time her mother had ever cried.

Hermione dropped off a smallish book titled 'The Wards of Hogwarts' before disappearing again. Astoria never took account of any of that. Her eyes were focused on the note underneath the old newspaper snippet. She was stiff with both anger and fear. The words on it were clear and simple.

'Got you bastard!'

It was the same script she had seen on the Apparation note too. This realization was enough to bring the girl back to her present reality. The situation was worse than she could have thought. Everything that had happened till this point was planned. She was not here by some accident. Everything was just one big trap.

The girl stumbled to her feet. She had to warn the others. They had to get away from the building. Her vision blurred as she struggled to her feet. She almost fell back into the chair. She had to fight for each step she took. It was a gruelling experience for her. Her only saving grace was the aged shelf on her right. She could lean against it for some much-needed support. Without it, she would have been forced to crawl. She tried to call out to the others, but she wasn't able to voice anything save for some croaking sounds.

Then she heard a gunshot rip into the silence of the ruins. It was close by. Too close. The crackle reflected back from the walls, amplifying the noise within, making it unbearable. She heard her companions call out the names of different spells. It was followed up by snapping and popping sounds as those spells slammed into walls and other solid objects.

Then she heard Hermione's voice. Her shout of "Death Eaters!" sent chills down the spine of the young girl.

Ron reached with Daphne in tow. The boy didn't dare to mention it, but she was getting heavier. At first, he didn't notice, but after a while, it started to get all too apparent. The foreboding girl was fighting on, but her body was starting to weaken. Her breath was getting more and more laboured. He knew they had to get a healer immediately if not sooner.

When they reached to entrance Ron froze as did the girl on his side. The room they stumbled across was a library. And most surprisingly it was intact. They were horrified to find that they were in deeper trouble than they could have thought. The two knew they weren't alone, but they never would have thought that they'd have such a company. Inside they saw two masked figures. Their sinister features didn't promise much. They seemed to be busy. Searching for something. Ron recognised the masks they wore. He had seen things like those. During breakfast. In the Daily Prophet, the paper his father always read while eating his meal. The two were Death Eaters.

The two youths dove for cover. The fright gave Daphne a surge of power she thought she no longer had. The two teens gazed at each other. A silent communication commenced between them. There were no words exchanged. Ron gestured at the entrance next to him. Then at the gun in his hand.

The question was clear to the girl. He wanted to attack. In a sense, she agreed with the boy. They had surprise on their side for a change. However, they did not know if there were others. Or how many of them were there in the first place. They could be stirring up a hornet's nest. Then there was another problem. Those two could be illusions too meant to keep them out of the room. Or just the trigger to another trap.

Daphne did not like the odds. But with her condition gradually getting worse. They, she was running out of options. She needed medical care. Sitting around was just as bad if not worse than lashing out. After a long consideration, she nodded to signal her agreement. She pulled out her wand and prepared herself to fight as much as she was able to. Her state was bad. The girl had to actually use her left hand to guide her fingers into the right position. She could only hope the wand would not slip from her fingers.

Ron lifted his hand holding up three fingers. Daphne nodded once more. This time to signal her readiness. Both took a deep breath. They were filled with more fear than ever before. They were about to attack human beings. This was not some game or childish brawl. This was a fight to the death. They could only hope that the two were only illusions. And even if they were, it would only lead them to other problems.

The boy was about to start his countdown when they heard hurried rustling from the inside. "Someone's out there!" came the hushed whisper from inside. The voice was low barely audible. The countdown was forgotten as both surged forward. Ron aimed and fired. The Death Eaters inside seemed to understand the nature of the weapon in his hand and dove for cover. He fired anyway. He did not want to waste his chance. The Death Eaters were fast. They moved into before Ron or Daphne could catch them.

The masked figures inside returned fire. Both cried out the name of a stupefy spell. The teens took cover when they saw the green bolts of magic. The students were appaled, their opponents somehow managed to masquerade the killing curse as a harmless stunner.

"Death Eaters!" called out one of the two. By the voice, Ron judged a woman in her thirties.

Daphne did not like what this declaration implied. The two Death Eaters were not alone. And they just called for help. This had to be finished and quickly. If she and Ron couldn't they would be surely overrun and that would be it for them. The girl steeled herself and summoned all her strength. They had to win. She had to find her little sister.

Astoria heard more gunshots as she stumbled towards the source of the disturbance. She knew she was not worth much in her current state. Casting any spells, even the simplest ones were beyond her in her current state. But the attackers didn't have to know that. All the first-year could hope for was that her mere presence is enough to throw the attackers off balance. There was no use hiding. No use hesitating. She had to act. If her friends fall she was as good as dead in this place.

Another crack filled the air. The ominous sound of the shot bounced around between the walls of the library creating an almost unbearable racket. Astoria stumbled, almost fell. Once more it was only the bookshelf that saved her from a nasty fall. She wanted to curse. Her body simply refused to do as asked. "Why is that dammed fight so far away?" she cursed in silent desperation.

Two more crackles came and went. The girl's ears were left ringing. Some books at the end of the row in front of her fell from their place. Parts of their interior was flung around, transformed into confetti. Astoria saw Harry rush past. Probably in a search for a place from which to fight back. It was the right thing to do considering what his opponent was using. He dodged several spells on the way and even slapped one to the side. He also seemed to be favouring his right leg.

The girl kept going. She had to get there. Then she saw Daphne of all people rush by. Astoria stopped staring for a few seconds. She shook her head trying to clear her mind of the obvious hallucination. There was no way her sister was in this place. It had to be the poison. More spells whizzed passed at the end of the corridor she was on. This time in the opposite direction.

Astoria pressed on, fighting against her immense need to collapse on the ground and just give up. When she reached the end of the shelf she peeked out. It was only for a fraction of a second. But it was enough to confirm her fears. There was a man wearing a black cloak not far from the door. In his left, he was wielding a gun. The girl retreated to safety. She could only hope she wasn't spotted. From behind she felt the sounds of a scuffle. She guessed Harry and Daphne were in a hand to hand fight against someone. Astoria stopped. Once more she shook her head. There was no way Daphne was there.

The first-year risked another peek. Her face went white. She saw Hermione, who was making a break for it. By the looks, the girl tried to get behind the man and failed at the attempt. Now he had her in the open, without cover. The witch was scrambling to get out of the line of fire. She was running for her life. It was clear she would not make it. The man pulled the trigger and the mechanism within the weapon did its job. The gun let out another bark sending its lethal projectile at the girl before she could reach relative safety. Luckily for her, his aim was off and ended up only grazing her arm. She yelped in pain and dropped her wand as she tried to get away.

Astoria had a split second to react. She knew how easy it was for someone to make a correction and fire again. The next bullet would definitely hit dead centre. There was no time to hesitate. Almost on instinct the girl grabbed the nearest thing she could think of and flung it at the black-clad attacker. The book hit the man in the chest just as he lined up the second shot. The gun barked again, but distraction proved to be enough. The bullet meant for Hermione missed its mark and bit into the tomes next to the older witch. The literature on the shelves was a loss but the projectile didn't make it through. Hermione kept moving and dove for cover. For a split second Astoria relaxed. She had saved the hide of her friend.

Then the Slytherin girl's relief turned to horror when she saw the man turn towards her. The mask he wore was the most frightening thing she had seen in a long time. She had heard about the people who wore masks like that. She remembered their collective name. Death Eaters, they called themselves. That mask made her shiver. She knew she had to run. Those people were not known for taking prisoners. As the man turned towards her he was also bringing his weapon along. A spell was flung at her. It was only then that she noticed the wand in his right arm. She did not hear the incantation but she felt its effects of the spell that was flung at her. All control the girl had left of her legs was lost. Her face went horrid then she saw the gun getting trained in on her.

The girl was desperate. She knew running was impossible. However, going down without a fight was just not her style. Astoria knew she had not much of a chance but she had to try. She could glance deep into the barrel when she flung the book at her assailant. It was clear it won't get there in time, but at least she could hope to do some damage.

The man's hand squeezed the trigger. The girl closed her eyes. But instead of a crackle, there was a fizz like sound and a yelp. It was followed up by clatter and a heavy thud. Two thuds! When Astoria opened her eyes to investigate. She saw Harry and Daphne wrestling with the Death Eater, doing their best to keep him down. The adult was slowly but surely gaining the upper hand. Harry was leaking blood all over the place and Daphne didn't seem to fight with her usual ferocity.

To Astoria, her older sister looked sluggish and awkward. Suddenly Daphne exploded with a primordial rage. "Are you crazy Weasley! That's my little sister you were trying to shoot! Can't you idiot differentiate between a dammed Death Eater and a first-year?" The ungodly holler brought the fight to a sudden halt. Harry stiffened. The Death Eater stared.

Astoria also knew that name. It was the name of Harry's friend. The annoying one. From school. Things didn't add up one bit to her. Then it all started up again.

"Now you show your true colours you filthy snake! You were working for You-Know-Who all the time!" yelled the Death Eater back. A strange thing to hear from anybody wearing those clothes. "You Slytherins are all the same! Dirty! Backstabbing cowards all of you!"

The scuffle on the ground continued. The Death Eater seemed to be getting the upper hand. Daphne's usual elegance was nowhere to be found. Her movements were sloppy. Inaccurate. Almost as is she was drunk. Harry, however, didn't move. He stared at the masked attacker. "Ron?" he asked completely astonished. "What the hell are you doing in a dark wizard getup?" he asked.

The man's struggles ceased once more. "Harry?" he asked also stiff with realization. "What the bloody hell? You are the one who is dressed up in a Voldemort-fanboy-costume!?" The voices and looks were completely off, but the mannerisms and words were all too familiar to the other.

"What costume?" asked Harry. "I'm wearing my usual Hogwarts clothes."

"Well, to me you look like some dark-lord-bootlicker!" answered Ron angrily.

Harry and the man untangled from each other and stood up. But the hostility was still there. They were keeping their distance and observed each other's movements with care. They faced each other at a safe distance with inquisitive glances. At the same time, Hermione was trying to gather her jaw from the floor. She had made a hasty attempt to reclaim her wand. Now she stood there. Mouth agape. Frozen from the new information that was delivered to her. The female or at least the person who looked just like a Death Eater to her was clearly Daphne. The voice may have been off, but the tone, the attitude and the statement was a dead giveaway.

The man's identity was also too clear. He may have looked like one of Voldermort's cohorts, but the vocabulary made his identity all too apparent. It was Ron. And he had shot her! The wound may have been superficial, but it HURT! She couldn't begin to imagine how Harry felt after taking two bullets.

"So what in the bloody name of hell is going on?" asked Ron starting to get annoyed with the situation.

It was Hermione's cue to collapse. "It means we got played," she answered. "Someone wanted us to fight each other."

"And who are you supposed to be?" barked Ron at her.

"I'm Hermione!" answered the girl. She didn't know if she should be angry or relieved.

The two sides slowly but lined up in their respective camps. They were still wary of each other, but their fight was over. It was all too apparent that they were fooled by some illusion. Only the sisters saw the other side for who they were.

Daphne was leaning against the wall still trying to refrain from strangling Ron. She eyed her sister and the two fake Death Eaters on each side of her. The younger girl was relying on the male Death Eater, Potter she guessed, for support. Astoria looked groggy and tired. She also didn't speak. It was something completely uncharacteristic of her younger sister. The tear on the first year's robes and droplets of blood on it. The stained fabric was enough for Daphne to figure things out. "Acromantula bite?" she asked already knowing the answer.

Harry nodded.

The older Greengrass masked her inner need to inflict large amounts of pain under a cool, collected face.

"Dammed, crazy house-elf!" added Hermione under her breath.

"You two?" asked Ron.

The room became silent. Everybody knew what they were looking for. The key to getting home. That house elf. They had to find it and grill it for information. At this point, Ron saw red. "Get out here you bastard!" he yelled atop of his lungs making the other's stare at him. "Come here you half-eared pest!" The echoes of his angry scream could be heard all across the ruins. There was no answer.

"Are you crazy!" hissed Hermione. "Why don't you tell him our exact search plan while you are at it. How are we supposed to find it if it doesn't want us to find it?"

Ron didn't respond to the girl. He kept yelling. "Hiding aren't you! You little coward! No problem sooner or later we will get out of here! This place has to exist somewhere else! I'll find it and burn down the rest! What do you say to that? Won't it be fun?"

There was no response. Ron aimed his wand at one of the shelves and fired a spell at it. The literature caught fire instantly. Hermione paled at the sight of the burning tomes. The fire spread at an alarming rate. It was like a pack of hungry rabbits, ready to devour anything in its wake. "So what is it? Aren't you going to stop me? I'll burn down the entire library and tear down the rest of this place while I'm at it!"

Barely did Ron finish those words there was a loud pop in the room. The flames were snuffed out quickly by some spell. Almost at the same time, Ron fell to the ground letting out a groan. It was that Cruciatus curse again. His face was contorted into a painful grimace. Strangely, that grimace was accompanied by a smirk, which only grew after the others let loose with everything the had.

The distorted elf didn't give in without a fight. It bounced all around the library dodging spell after spell. Astoria didn't sit by idly. Even without the ability to cast spells, she did her best. Every object around her became a potential weapon to be flung at the thing. The air was filled with spells once more. The multiple impacts left many small craters and scorch-marks in their wake. Bringing further destruction to what was left.

Hermione didn't care about her bleeding wound and the pain. Daphne kept flinging spells while she gathered her beretta. There were still a few rounds left in it. They all had the elf's name on them. Whatever it was. Her hand was shaking dangerously, but she didn't care any more. The way the creature was bouncing around made aiming almost an impossibility. She almost slapped herself when the idea of a sticking charm came to her mind. The incantations of various spells were soon muffled by gunfire. Harry too blasted away furiously. His newly learned 'stupefy' spell was put to good use.

Thanks to the relatively confined space and the barrage put up against it the house-elf couldn't last long. One of Harry's spells finally got close enough. As it slammed against the wall, missing its mark, but the blast created by it did reach the elf. While the magic contained in the spell was mostly dissipated the elf was slowed by it. That was all the students needed.

A spell hit home. Then two. The thing was actually shaking off the magic in them. Hermione's trip jinx was a direct hit and sent the elf to the ground. The barrage that followed was enough to bring down a newborn dragon. All of it was aimed at disabling the elf. After ten or twenty impacts the room went silent. The horrid creature had stopped. The library was a disaster. Pieces of parchment and paper were everywhere. The air was filled by the distinct scent of burnt wood. One of the tomes was smouldering silently letting out a small amount of smoke. Another was blown to confetti. A candleholder, thrown by Astoria, bounced off the creature's head and came to a halt with a clatter.

"We got it!" declared Ron standing up. He was smirking. His plan had worked. Despite the after-effects of the Cruciatus spell lingering in his body, he was happy, satisfied with the result.

Strangely the elf was still smirking at the students. It was the same, crazed smirk as before. It chuckled. "So, you managed to catch me," it spoke in an uncomfortable raspy voice. "You are still stuck here!"

Harry approached the elf. He was careful. His eyes were searching for surprises. He was not taking any chances. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "What did we do to you?" The elf grinned. It didn't answer. Instead, it turned its gaze to the sisters. The creature smirked once more as it raised its hand.

The next moment a bluish bolt of magic flashed by barely missing Harry, barely. The spell hit the elf's hand knocking it to the side. The impact was accompanied by a loud crackle. The elf tried to raise its hand again but the way the limb was bent made it clear it was of no use to its owner anymore. Strangely the elf didn't seem to have much care about having its arm break.

Everybody turned to the source of the spell. They were awaiting another fight. Another opponent. Everybody gasped when they saw the source. it was Hermione. "Don't even try!" She warned. "We never did anything to you! We don't want to! We only want to go home! How can we do that!? Tell us!" by the time the girl reached the end she was screaming.

The house-elf laughed. It was a surprise to all. Most sentient beings would be howling in pain. But this thing was laughing as if it was the best joke it ever heard.

"You want to go home?" it asked between fits. "You want to find a way out of this spell? You have to destroy the power-source!"

"What is it? What do we have to destroy to get out of here?" Demanded Hermione.

The elf laughed even louder. The students shuddered. Despite her anger, even Hermione couldn't help it. She felt pitied the elf. After meeting Dobby she knew how strong those creatures were. For one to become like this... She couldn't imagine what it had to go through. However, enough was enough. She wanted out of this horror house.

The elf chuckled. "You want to go home that bad?" it asked. "Okay, I'll tell you about the magical core. I know everything about it. I know the core very well. I know all about it. The core is me!" answered the elf with glee. "You will have to kill me!" it repeated. Hermione paled. The others stared in horror as the words slowly but surely sunk in.

Everybody was in denial. Thinking that this was just another sick joke. All save for one.

Daphne was silent. Her face was grim as she stepped forward. She lifted her arm gripping her beretta tightly as possible. She had had enough. Her hand was shaking. Her aim was off. Standing alone was a challenge to her. As good as she was able the girl aimed at the elf the fired. The recoil knocked her hand back. Without the sticking charm, the beretta would have left her grip. The bullet missed completely. She aimed again and fired another time. She did her best to hit her target, but again she missed.

The third attempt was a hit. The elf stared at her with an empty, satisfied expression. The elf didn't even wince it just stared at her with an empty expression. The next shot was also a hit. The elf was smirking. The fifth bullet tore into its chest. The sixth round found the elf's head. At this, the creature started to laugh. Daphne ejected the magazine. With some difficulty, she pulled out a spare and reloaded her weapon. The empty container landed on the ground letting out a metallic clink. The others with her stared. Frozen in place by the shock and surprise as the girl resumed firing. At the fifth shot of her second magazine, the elf went silent. The girl kept on firing till the hammer of her gun found an empty chamber.

Everything became quiet. Too quiet. Hermione lifted a hand in protest, but she never spoke. The world around the small group suddenly lit up. Nobody cheered. They were unable to. The light was rapidly gaining intensity as the world around them started to contort and distort. It was getting brighter and brighter. Astoria and Harry glanced at each other. The girl looked scared and hopeful at the same time. She took a tentative step towards the boy. Harry didn't know what to make of the situation. He desperately wanted to reassure her that everything was going to be all right. After a few seconds, he decided to act on those feelings. The little girl now looked terribly frightened. He took the first step, but he never got there. The boy was forced to close his eyes. He felt weightless and heavy at the same time. It didn't take long before he felt completely disorientated. His felt his body spin, he was also falling, All of it was starting to make the boy sick. Then all of it stopped.

Harry suddenly felt the hospital bed under his back. When he opened his eyes to check he found himself in the infirmary of Hogwarts. On his left, he found Astoria she was trying to clear her head. Hermione was on the right. They weren't alone. The boy found Dumbledore sitting on the bed right in front of him. Apparently the old wizard was in the middle of consoling a crying Madame Pomfrey. The deputy headmaster, McGonagall, was standing next to him along with a clearly annoyed Snape.

The healer's sobbing came to a halt as she and the professors stared at the children who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. The doors of the infirmary slammed open as Ron barged in. "I need help!" he yelled. "Acromantula bite!"