Chapter 11

Harry opened his eyes, but everything was too blurred to see. His whole body ached. It took him several moments to remember what had happened and when he did he jerked fully awake instantly.

He was lying on t he leafy floor of the woods he recognised from four years ago, at the Quidditch World Cup. A waterproof plastic Muggle tent he had never seen before was set up a metre away from him, protected by a dome of visible shimmering spells like a net. He was lying inside the dome and so was Ron, looking rather cut and bloody, with Hermione kneeling over him with a clear bottle of Essence of Dittany and her wand, and a small beaded handbag that he did recognise was open at her feet.

He got up slowly, testing his limbs, and realising that Hermione had already healed him even though his jeans and shirt were still bloodstained and he was limping as he walked over.

Hermione was just finishing on Ron and put the bottle in the beaded bag, snapped it closed and put her wand in her pocket. She was unharmed except for dirt on her face from the smoke, but Harry was sure he looked worse.

“Help me get Ron inside the tent,” she said without any chat and he did so, lifting Ron’s legs as they manoeuvred him into the tent. This new one looked like a Muggle tent from the outside but inside it was definitely a wizard tent, but obviously brand new.

There was a main area with red carpet and gold embroidery, a glass coffee table piled with unopened wizard books surrounded by two cream and gold sofas and two matching armchairs. They lowered Ron onto one of the sofas and Harry looked around quickly. There was a gold and crystal chandelier hanging overhead, from a circular ceiling which seemed to rise to a point in the middle like a circus marquee.

There were three doors, one leading to a small basic kitchen with a round table and six stools, one bedroom with two bunk beds and a wardrobe, and another bedroom with one double bed and a single bed.

“It’s the Wizard Camp Deluxe 3004,” Hermione explained, sinking exhaustedly into an armchair. “I bought it and put it in the bag months ago, I was hiding it from the Weasleys because Mr Weasley said he wanted to go camping and we lost Perkins’ tent…”

“That was lucky,” Harry replied, sitting gingerly on the spotless armchair. “Whoa, it’s like déjà vu, isn’t it?”

“It’s hard to believe we’re doing this again, when we thought it was over for good last year. I hope Mrs Weasley and Ginny are OK.”

“And Andromeda and Mr Weasley,” Harry said. “She arrived when Bellatrix did and Bella must have kidnapped Mr Weasley or something because he was there, he looked terrible.”

Hermione bit her lip and opened the beaded bag. “I don’t have any books or portraits this time.”

“Or the sword,” Harry realised gloomily. “We’re at the beginning again.”

“No we’re not,” she said, pulling the Gryffindor sword out of the bag. The egg-sized rubies glittered on the hilt. “Kingsley had it cleared last month after they’d gone through the Wills at the Ministry. We were going to give it to you for your birthday.”

“Well, all we have to do is find a Horcrux of Bellatrix’s and then we can destroy it,” Harry said excitedly, and Ron suddenly said, “Not as easy as it sounds though, remember.”

He propped himself up on his elbows and checked his pocket for his wand, which Hermione had put in there.

“We can’t spend a year in hiding again,” he said grimly. “We have to go to Andromeda’s house.”

The End

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