Chapter 157 — Six Pieces of Paper

My other hand found a Reductor strip. A broken upright stood beside the man, part of the stall leaning against the wall, and I aimed for the wood near his knee.

‘Reducto!’ The upright burst. He stumbled away from the splinters and burning cloth, bringing his wand up as I reached for the next piece.

I threw it at the stone edging beneath his next step, calling Reducto as it flew. The crack sent fragments against the wall and the remains of the stall. He fell sideways, his wand arm striking the ground while fire ran over his shoulder.

My next breath hurt. Six prepared pieces were gone, and I felt the work behind my eyes and in the hand which shook as I put it back into the pouch.

I found a Body-Bind strip. The man rolled, beating at the cloth on his shoulder, then sent water over himself with the wand he still held. Steam rose from his robes as I moved to get a clear line.

His face turned towards me. Fire had marked one side across the cheek and towards the jaw, and the smile had gone. I lifted the preparation before he could get his feet beneath him.

‘Stupefy!’ The shout came from my left. Red light crossed in front of me, and I dropped as another spell struck the broken stall above my shoulder.

Wood snapped. I rolled against the wall’s base and pressed my face into the dirt while voices shouted over one another. For an instant I could think only that more attackers had arrived, and I had brought my friends back into the lane with no clear way to reach them from the ground.

‘Dad! Stop them!’ Ron’s voice came from beyond the trolley. ‘That’s Oswald!’

‘Hold your fire!’ Arthur shouted. ‘Students! Stop!’

The spells ceased, but I stayed down for another breath, waiting for one which had not heard him. Boots moved beyond the wall while someone ordered the people behind it to show their hands.

I looked towards the place where the attacker had fallen. He was up, his burned, wet face visible for a moment between two posts. Then he limped into the gap beyond the stalls.

‘He’s going that way!’ I shouted. Somebody moved past the wall, but another voice told them to wait. By the time I pushed myself onto an elbow, the gap was empty.

Harry and the others remained behind the trolley. Ron had moved where Arthur could see him, wand pointing down; Hermione kept a hand on Harry’s arm, and Luna watched me as I tried to tell them to stay there.

Arthur came round the wall with two people in Ministry robes. One still covered the place where I lay, and Arthur told her to lower the wand before coming closer.

I got to my knees. My left palm stung, grit filled one cuff, and a patch of cloth had torn at my knee. In my other hand, the Body-Bind paper remained clenched and crumpled, its charge unspent.

‘A prepared talisman,’ I said, opening my fingers slowly. ‘I haven’t used this one.’

The nearest witch looked from it to the black scraps further down the lane. ‘Were you casting here?’ she asked. I said I had, pointing towards the gap with my empty hand.

‘A shield, three fire spells and two Reductor Curses. At the man who tried to kill Harry.’ I drew a breath before repeating the part I needed her to hear. ‘He went through there.’

Arthur turned towards the opening. Behind him, Crouch appeared between the officers, soot on the sleeve which had been immaculate that morning. He looked at the Mark above us, then directed his wand towards me.

‘Who cast that?’ he asked. I told him it was the man who had just escaped, and he demanded my name.

‘Oswald Mercer.’ He stared at my face, giving Arthur time to explain that we had come together that morning and all five of us were Hogwarts students.

‘Harry’s been hurt,’ Arthur added. Crouch looked beyond him, where Ron was staying close enough to support Harry if his knees gave again.

‘We saw the man raise his wand,’ Hermione said. ‘He cast the Mark, then came towards us.’

‘And tried to kill Harry,’ Ron added. Harry touched his scar, keeping his eyes on the gap through which the man had gone.

Crouch’s wand remained directed at my chest. ‘I’ve answered you,’ I said. ‘Lower it.’

Arthur looked at him. For a moment I could hear only the fire beyond the wall and my own breathing; then Crouch lowered his arm and asked me to show him the escape route.

I stood carefully. Luna reached me first, taking my elbow without pulling the hand which held the damaged paper, and I pointed through the broken stalls.

‘He was hurt. We saw his face.’ I kept my hand raised while Crouch followed the direction, making certain he looked at the gap rather than the Mark still hanging over us.

‘Oswald had him down,’ Ron said. ‘Then you started shooting at him.’

Arthur raised a hand. ‘Tell them clearly what you saw, Ron,’ he said. ‘Start with the man.’

Ron drew a breath before describing him. Between us, we gave Crouch his clothes, face, burns and direction; Hermione repeated what she had seen of the wand aimed upwards, and Luna explained that Harry had already been on the ground when we found him.

Crouch sent two officers along the far lane and called the rest to follow him. I caught Arthur’s sleeve before he moved, telling him Bill and Charlie had taken the others out and that we had reported Harry missing at the departure field.

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‘You came back from there?’ he asked. His eyes went to Harry, then returned to me as I admitted we had.

‘We couldn’t find him. We told the steward where we were going.’ I could hear how little that changed the risk, even while trying to explain it.

‘I can see why you were frightened.’ Arthur looked round the five of us, counting with a glance.

‘I didn’t want to leave him here,’ I said. Luna’s hand stayed at my elbow while I waited for his answer.

‘And I didn’t want five of you missing.’ There was nothing I could say which made the choice safe after it had happened.

Bagman came round the broken stall, his earlier cheerfulness absent. Crouch called him over and told him to take us to the aid tent, with our accounts recorded before we left because they might need to question us again.

Arthur touched Ron’s shoulder. ‘Stay together,’ he said. ‘I’ll find Percy and come through as soon as I can.’

Ron began asking whether Percy was still with the officials. Arthur assured him he was, but needed to make certain everyone had been accounted for, then went after the officers as Bagman led us towards the departure field.

We stayed behind the remaining stalls. At one crossing Bagman stopped to ask a steward which way was clear, and I was grateful enough to have someone else choosing that I did not resent the delay.

Harry walked between Ron and Hermione. Luna remained beside me, looking at the hand I had been paying less attention to.

‘Your palm,’ she said. I turned it upwards and saw dirt in the shallow scrape. The paper in my other hand had kept me from noticing how much it hurt.

‘I fell on it.’ The explanation sounded inadequate with her standing close enough to have seen everything, and I looked at her before she quietly said that she knew.

I put the damaged Body-Bind inside an empty wrapper, separate from the usable pieces. The crease needed examining before I trusted it again. Luna took my wrist instead of my hand, and we walked the rest of the way like that.

The steward who had recorded Harry’s name saw us arrive and called into the aid tent. I had not realised how ready I still was to run until a healer pointed at a chair and told me to sit, while Harry was taken to the next table.

Hermione explained that we found him unconscious after a fall near the wall. His insistence that he felt all right did not stop her finishing the account, or the healer examining his head and asking him to follow her hand with his eyes.

She wrote down what he said about the scar as well. ‘Tell me you’re feeling better after I’ve finished looking,’ she said when he tried to stand. Harry settled back, watching Ron move out of her way.

Another healer cleaned my palm and knee. The water stung enough to make me pull my hand back before I stopped myself, and she checked where fragments had struck my clothes while asking what I had cast.

‘Six prepared releases,’ I told her. She asked whether there had been any more afterwards, and I shook my head.

She watched the fingers I was trying to keep still. ‘Then stop trying to convince your body it’s had an ordinary evening,’ she said, reaching for a dressing.

I sat back while Luna took the chair beside mine. Her softer shoes were dusty, but the rubbed place had stayed closed; the healer checked it when I asked, then gave me a look when I tried to stand for a better view.

Ron had begun studying Bagman near the entrance. He finally said the name aloud, adding that Arthur had shown him pictures of Bagman playing for the Wasps.

Bagman managed a smile and answered his question about an old match, correcting the year first. For a little while Ron sounded like himself again, speaking quietly while the healers worked. He found his creased programme and asked for an autograph, which Bagman signed beneath a photograph.

‘You could have told us he was here,’ Harry said to me. I explained that the afternoon’s conversation had been about something less entertaining than Quidditch, and Bagman heard us from the entrance.

‘You’ve had a bad night for business too, Mercer.’ His gaze moved towards the darkness beyond the tent as he handed Ron’s programme back.

‘Have you heard whether the trading staff got out?’ I asked. He said they were still checking the lists, and I told him I wanted that answer before the one about business.

Bagman looked at me for a moment before nodding. Luna rested her hand on my uninjured forearm, waiting until he moved away to ask whether the losses would be very bad.

‘I don’t know yet. Some stock sold during the preparations, and some equipment may still be all right.’ I looked towards the entrance, remembering the row of stalls. ‘We still have to pay everyone who did the work.’

‘Can you?’ she asked. I told her we had kept that money aside, and her hand relaxed against my arm.

I put my good hand over hers. Harry looked from us to my dressing and suggested letting Luna ask the sensible questions for a while, prompting her to smile for the first time since we had entered the lane.

‘She’s managed quite well without an appointment,’ I said. She leaned against my shoulder while we waited for the Ministry witch who was collecting our accounts.

The witch took our names and asked for separate descriptions wherever we could give them. I told her about the spells fired at me and made certain she recorded that the man escaped after the officers’ volley.

‘You called out that he was moving away?’ she asked. I said I had shouted from the ground, then indicated the direction again once I could get up.

She marked my position on a rough plan. The officers would give accounts too, she said, and I agreed that they should, leaving the drawing where she could compare it with their versions.

When Bagman returned, I remembered the crossed-out name on Rupert’s contact sheet. I asked what had happened to Bertha Jorkins, explaining where I had seen it when he looked puzzled.

‘Holiday. She asked for leave,’ he said. I asked whether that had been during the preparations, and his expression grew weary. ‘Bertha was having trouble keeping track of things. I thought a break might do her good.’

‘Where did she go?’ I asked. He looked towards a steward calling from the entrance before answering.

‘Albania, I believe. A cousin out there. I haven’t heard from her recently.’ The steward called again, and Bagman excused himself before I could ask anything else.

Luna waited until he had gone. ‘Did you work with her?’ she asked. I explained that she was only a name on the correspondence, and I had wondered why it was crossed out.

She looked towards the doorway. ‘It sounds a long way to go when people are waiting for you,’ she said. I agreed, though there was little to conclude from a missing name and Bagman’s explanation.

The healer eventually let Harry leave with written instructions for the adults looking after him. He needed rest and another check; being well enough to argue had not persuaded her to omit either. She gave Bill’s name to the departure steward along with Arthur’s, and five places were assigned to us.

Our return Portkey was a cracked wooden bowl. I watched the official check its destination and repeat the time, while the others listened without complaining about another set of instructions.

Ron looked at the autograph once more. ‘He’s quite nice,’ he said, smoothing the programme as best he could.

‘Pleasant company,’ I agreed. ‘He also owes me money.’

Ron lowered the page. I told them about the afternoon’s advance, with no attempt to make the decision sound better now than it had sounded to Luna.

‘For bets?’ Hermione asked. I confirmed that he was settling earlier ones and that Rupert had kept a signed acknowledgement with a repayment date.

‘I intend to remember it even if he finds something else to be cheerful about,’ I added. Harry gave a tired laugh, then put his hand on the bowl when the official called us forward.

The second journey was no more pleasant than the first. We arrived on grass beneath a dark sky, bent our knees and released the bowl. Lamps marked the arrival space, and beyond them tents stood where the hillside had been empty that morning.

Bill waited with Charlie. He counted us before coming forward, his eyes moving from Harry to the rest of us.

‘Five,’ he said. Charlie let out his breath, and I discovered I had been waiting to hear that single number too.