Another Dursley

The Missing Mirror

My feet touched the road. I saw the achingly familiar Hogsmeade High Street: dark shop fronts, and the mist line of black mountains beyond the village and the curve in the road ahead that led off toward Hogwarts, and light spilling from the windows of the Three Broomsticks, and with a lurch of the heart, I remembered all the memories I shared with my old friends walking down these streets, but it was only a second because simultaneously the air was rent by a scream: It tore at every nerve in my body as I recalled Voldemort's screams from Malfoy Manor, and I had shake off the fear because I knew that our appearance had caused it.

Even as I looked at the other three beneath the Cloak, the door of the Three Broomsticks burst open and a dozen cloaked and hooded Death Eaters dashed into the streets, their wands aloft.

I seized Harry and Ron's wrist as they raised their wands; there were too many of them to run. Even attempting it would have give away our position. One of the Death Eaters raised his wand, and the scream stopped, still echoing around the distant mountains.

"Accio Cloak!" roared one of the Death Eaters Harry and I seized the fold of the cloack, but it made no attempt to escape. The Summoning Charm had not worked on it.

"Not under your wrapper, then, Potter?" yelled the Death Eater who had tried the charm and then to his fellows. "Spread now. He's here."

Six of the Death Eaters ran toward us: The four of us gripped each other to back up as quickly and safely as possible down the nearest side street, and the Death Eaters missed us by inches. We waited in the darkness, listening to the footsteps running up and down, beams of light flying along the street from the Death Eaters' searching wands.

"Let's just leave!" Hermione whispered. "Disapparate now!"

"Great idea," said Ron, but before Harry or I could reply, a Death Eater shouted, "We know you are here, Potter, and there's no getting away! We'll find you!"

"They were ready for us," whispered Harry. "They set up that spell to tell them we'd come."

"I reckon they've done something to keep us here, trap us. "I said to them gripping my wand tightly.

"What about dementors?" called another Death Eater. "Let'em have free rein, they'd find him quick enough!"

"The Dark Lord wants Potter dead by no hands but 'an dementors won't kill him! The Dark Lord wants Potter's life, nor his soul. He'll be easier to kill if he's been Kissed first!"

There were noises of agreement. Dread filled my body: To repel dementors we would have to produce Patronuses which would give us away immediately, and I don't think I would be strong enough to produce one either way.

"We're going to have to try to Disapparate, Harry!" Hermione whispered.

Even as she said it, I felt the unnatural cold being spread over the street. Light was sucked from the environment right up to the stars, which vanished. In the pitch blackness, I felt Hermione and Harry take hold of my arm and together, we turned on the spot.

The air through which we needed to move, seemed to have become solid: we could not Disapparate; the Death Eaters had cast their charms well. The cold was biting deeper and deeper into my flesh. The four of us retreated down the side street, groping our way along the wall trying not to make a sound. Then, around the corner, gliding noiselessly, came dementors, ten or more of them, visible because they were of a denser darkness than their surroundings, with their black cloaks and their scabbed and rotting hands. 

Could they sense fear in the vicinity? I was sure of it: They seemed to be coming more quickly now, taking those dragging, rattling breaths I detested, tasting despair in the air, closing in- panic and fear ripped through me, as the dementors took their effect.