0295 Escape from death

0295 Escape from death

If it weren't for the scene earlier tonight when Harry and Hermione were surrounded by the werewolf pack, they would probably be terrified and at a loss for what to do in front of the hundreds of eight-eyed spiders. The arachnids, restless and seething with anger, clambered over one another in a frenzy, their chitinous legs clicking against the forest floor, creating a cacophony reminiscent of a thundercloud on the verge of eruption.

In the midst of this chaos, Peter Pettigrew, seemed to finally grasp the gravity of their situation. He ceased his futile attempts at escape, resigning himself to a shivering ball within the confines of his silken prison.

Aragog, the leader of the spider horde, loomed over them, his voice a bitter hiss that cut through the tension. "This is a lesson for the people in the castle," he declared, his many eyes reflecting a lifetime of grievances against those who dwelt within the stone walls of Hogwarts.

Harry, however, was not swayed by Aragog's words.

"Shut up!" He said sternly, with his gaze fixed on the giant spider, a wooden spike levitating beside him. Yet, despite his commanding exterior, Harry's eyes betrayed an internal struggle. The prospect of ending the life of an intelligent magical creature weighed heavily on him, and his resolve wavered.

"This won't solve the problem, Harry," Hermione trembled, but she still didn't want Harry to kill the spider. "They won't let us leave, even if you kill it."

Harry's response was a mix of desperation and determination. "I know, Hermione!" he exclaimed, his face a mask of grim resolve as the encroaching swarm of spiders closed in around them. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "But this is our only bargaining chip, Hermione. Do we have any other way to break out from here?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Harry grappled with the moral values before him.

It was, after all, just a spider. In the dungeons of Snape's class, he had ended the lives of countless frogs, lizards, and other creatures in the name of potion-making. Yet, this felt different. This required Harry to not only convince Hermione of the necessity of their actions but also to reconcile with his own conscience.

It was at this moment of indecision that salvation pierced the darkness. Two beams of light, like lances of hope, cut through the webbed canopy above, bathing Harry and Hermione in their ethereal glow. Accompanying the light was a sound that stirred memories within Harry—a sound he had heard earlier that night, before their chilling encounter with the Dementors. It was the roar of an engine, primal and defiant, a sound that now heralded their potential rescue.

The spiders, sensing the intrusion, were thrown into disarray. The once orderly ranks descended into pandemonium as the creatures toppled from their perches, their bodies hitting the ground with sickening thuds. Before they could recover, a formidable force barreled through their ranks, crushing spider after spider beneath its relentless advance quickly approaching Harry and Hermione.

"What is that, Harry!" Hermione cried out, her voice a mixture of fear and panic as she saw the vomit inducing scene before them.

"Mr. Weasley's car," Harry replied, his tone laced with disbelief. His eyes were fixed on the battered Ford Anglia as it charged through the horde of eight-eyed spiders like a valiant Knight, its drooping headlights cutting a swathe through the darkness. A surge of joy welled up within him, and Harry couldn't help but leap to his feet, his voice ringing out with excitement. "It's Mr. Weasley's car, remember, Hermione? At the beginning of our second year, when Dobby blocked the wall at King's Cross Station, Ron and I used this car to get back to Hogwarts!"

The memory of that daring flight was etched in the annals of Hogwarts history, a tale of mischief and adventure that had cemented Harry and Ron's reputations among their peers. It was an adventure that had not been without consequences, as Mr. Weasley had faced a formal inquiry at the Ministry of Magic for the unauthorized enchantment of a Muggle vehicle.

"But why is it here?" Hermione pondered aloud, her gaze sweeping the forest in search of a wizard who might have summoned this unexpected chariot.

"Since then, this car must have been living in the Forbidden Forest," Harry mused, a hint of awe in his voice. "Oh my, I never expected it to still be able to move. Maybe it has been lurking nearby and heard the commotion here!"

As they spoke, the enchanted Ford Anglia, a relic of a bygone adventure, burst through the final barriers of web and foliage, coming to a triumphant halt before them. The car bore the scars of its past encounters, with dented doors and a roof warped by the Whomping Willow's wrath. Its windshield was a spiderweb of cracks, and the tires were slick with the green ichor of the spiders it had crushed in its path.

"You don't understand, Hermione—" Harry became particularly stubborn. "You don't know what happened then. Professor Dumbledore hadn't arrived yet, but the Dementors had already found Sirius. They wanted to kill him on the spot. I wanted to use the Patronus Charm to drive them away, but I failed. Then, someone released a powerful Patronus and drove away all the Dementors!"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, her mind racing to comprehend the implications. "A powerful Patronus, you mean... Professor Watson?"

"No, it wasn't him," Harry replied, his frown deepening as he grappled with the memory. "Well, I saw that person. But maybe it was just my imagination, Hermione. My mind wasn't clear at the time, and I quickly lost consciousness."

"Who do you think it was?" Hermione's voice was a mix of curiosity and concern.

"I think—" Harry hesitated, the words catching in his throat. Despite the absurdity of his belief, he pressed on, "I think it was my dad."

The revelation left Hermione speechless, her mouth agape as she struggled to offer comfort. "Harry, your dad—"

She paused, her eyes darting towards the trunk where the culprit of their pain lay bound. Lowering her voice, she continued, "He's passed away, hasn't he? The person who was responsible for his death is in the trunk; we caught him. We've avenged your parents."

"Oh, I know." Harry stared at the trunk with a gloomy expression, but then he furrowed his eyebrows and continued, "I know it's hard to explain, Hermione, but I want to go... No, I must go and see!"

Hermione couldn't resist Harry's determination, and she was also curious about the person Harry mentioned. They parked the car in a discreet location, then both of them put on their invisibility cloaks and got out of the car, running towards their destination, hiding behind a tree.

The Dementors appeared.

Hermione's fear nearly overcame her, a scream threatening to escape her lips, but she managed to stifle the sound, covering her mouth just in time to remain undetected in the shadow of the night.

The Dementors hovered over Sirius, who was pinned under the motorcycle. At this moment, Harry of that time was trying to drive them away, but after several attempts, he unfortunately failed. Moreover, his actions angered the Dementors, and they were preparing to kill him first.

Harry anxiously searched for something. His gaze flew past tree after tree because the place where the Patronus finally stayed was behind a crooked-neck tree.

"Hurry!" Harry looked around and whispered out in a low voice, "Where are you, Dad? Hurry!"

No one responded to his call. In the middle of the field, one Dementor had already grabbed original time's Harry's throat and was about to remove its hood.

Hermione, unable to contain her fear, turned her head away, unable to watch any longer. Harry bit his lip, about to say something to comfort Hermione, when he turned and finally noticed the tree in front of them.

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