PhoenixSong.net :: A Harry/Ginny Fanfic and Fanart Archive

Author: CJS

Story: Harry Potter and the Ghosts of the Past

Part: 11: Hufflepuff's Cup

Rating: Teens

Setting: Pre-DH

Status: WIP

Reviews: 7

Words: 3,038

Updated: June 3, 2007, 4:26pm

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11: Hufflepuff's Cup

As the huge spider moved closer to their hiding place, Hermione gripped Harry’s arm even harder, causing him to gasp in pain. Hermione immediately let go, giving him a startled look as she did so.

“Oh, Harry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry; I forgot....”

“Shush,” Harry replied through gritted teeth, pulling her back under the cover of the trees as the giant arachnid crossed directly in front of their hiding place. They both held their breath, expecting it to turn and attack at any moment, but instead it carried on past, apparently oblivious to their presence. They both turned to watch it as it continued prowling around the group of derelict buildings.

“It’s a sentry,” Harry realised. “It’s patrolling the buildings.” He turned to Hermione.

“I fought one of these during the Triwizard Tournament. Stunners should work on it.”

Hermione nervously nodded her understanding. Gripping their wands tightly, they both skulked as low as possible in the undergrowth, waiting for the spider to make its way back towards them. As it approached, its eight eyes roving ceaselessly across the ground in front of it, its true scale became apparent; its eight large, hairy legs were as thick as tree trunks and supported a body that was the same size as Uncle Vernon’s car. Before Harry could take in any more details, the spider was again crossing the ground directly in front of them. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and then both jumped out of the bushes, two red bolts of light leaving the tips of their wands almost simultaneously.

Harry didn’t expect the Stunners to knock the spider out straight away, but he had hoped they might slow it down a bit. What he didn’t expect was for the two spells to bounce harmlessly off of its back. He felt his jaw drop in astonishment as the spider spun around, bellowing in fury as it spotted the two intruders. Before either of them could move, the spider leapt at them, its pincers clicking furiously. Instinctively, Harry dived sideways, knocking into Hermione and sending her flying. As he landed Harry was sure he could feel the spider’s legs brush the top of his head as it sailed overhead before thumping back down onto the ground behind him.

As they both scrambled to their feet the spider moved around to face them again, its eyes flicking over them furiously as it prepared for another attack. It was Hermione’s presence that saved him, Harry would realise later. His rugby tackle had pushed Hermione out of the spider’s path, and as it charged towards Harry again she snatched up her wand and aimed a Severing charm at one of the spindly legs. Her aim was true, and the spider howled in pain as the spell sliced through. As the now seven-legged spider stumbled momentarily, trying to regain its balance, Harry sent a Stunner directly at its face, sending it crashing to the ground in a hairy, bloody heap. As the dust settled Hermione rushed over to him.

“Are you all right, Harry?” she asked breathlessly. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, you?”

Hermione winced as she pressed one hand against her ribs. “A few new bruises,” she replied. She nodded in the direction of the spider. “How long do you think we have before it comes round?”

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugged. “But I don’t fancy being here when it wakes up. Let’s have a quick look around and then get out of here.”

Keeping a wary eye on the stunned spider, they quickly examined the building nearest to them. It was little more than a small three-sided shelter containing a small hearth and the rusted remains of a large cauldron. Hermione cautiously waved her wand over the fire-blackened ground, muttering various incantations that Lupin had taught them that would supposedly help detect Dark magic. Harry didn’t bother helping. Despite the fact that he didn’t know what they were looking for, he was fairly certain that if Voldemort had hidden anything here it wouldn’t be in such an obvious place.

Hermione finally stepped back from the cauldron, having exhausted her repertoire of detection spells.

“Nothing,” she said disappointedly. “Do you want to check the house or the other shed next?”

Harry studied the two buildings for a moment. “The shed,” he decided eventually. “The house could take ages to search; we might as well leave it ’til last.”

They quickly hurried over to the other outbuilding, pausing only to conjure a number of ropes around the spider’s legs, which were beginning to twitch fretfully. The small shed was even emptier than the one containing the cauldron had been. Only a few dusty shelves and some mouldy logs on the floor remained as evidence that it had ever been used. Hermione waved her wand around again, but Harry thought it was more out of determination to make sure they didn’t miss anything than any real expectation of finding something. Seeing no other option, they began moving cautiously towards the small hovel in the centre of the clearing, but as Harry scanned the area one more time, he spied what looked to be a low wall on the side of the clearing furthest from where they had entered.

“Hermione,” he called out, pointing towards it, “what do you reckon that is?” Hermione paused and squinted in the direction Harry was pointing.

“I’m not sure,” she responded. “Let’s go and have a look.”

As they approached, what Harry had thought was a wall became a circular brick structure protruding a few feet from the ground. It was covered by a large, sturdy wooden lid, and a bucket and a length of rope sat off to one side.

“It’s just an old well, Hermione,” said Harry, pointing towards the last two items. He turned to head back to the house, and then realised that Hermione was still looking at the well, her brows furrowed in thought.

“Hang on a moment, Harry,” she said slowly. “This doesn’t make sense. Why does a well need a lid?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. To stop animals climbing into it?”

“Maybe, if you’re a Muggle,” Hermione pointed out, “but if a wizard lived here, they could have just put repelling charms around it.” She looked more closely at the lid.

“It doesn’t look like there are any nails or anything holding it down.” She pointed her wand at the lid. “I wonder if a levitation spell will work on it.”

“I’ll do it,” said Harry quickly, grabbing her arm. He sighed as Hermione gave him an annoyed look.

“You saw what happened to Ron,” he explained. “What if it happens again? I can’t afford for both of you to get hurt.”

“I thought you were determined to do all of this alone, anyway,” Hermione replied coolly. She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the well. “We don’t even know if there is anything down there, but if there is, and Voldemort’s left it there, which one of us do you think is more likely to be able to deal with it?” Before Harry had a chance to argue, there was a loud grating noise as the lid slid across to one side, before thumping heavily to the ground. Despite himself, Harry was impressed; Hermione’s apparently random hand waving had distracted him from the levitation spell she had been casting with her other hand. Shaking his head, he gingerly stepped up to the low wall and carefully peered down into the well. The round shaft seemed to go down forever, the rough sides quickly being swallowed by darkness. Kneeling down, Harry picked up a handful of small stones and tossed them into the well. He counted as far as seven before he heard not a splash but a rattling sound as the stones hit something solid and rebounded. He arched an eyebrow at Hermione.

“Whatever’s down there, it isn’t water,” he reported rather needlessly. Leaning over as far as he dared, he lit the tip of his wand and pointed it into the dark maw, playing the beam around. Realising what he was doing, Hermione quickly joined him, adding her own wand light to his. Even with the two beams, they still nearly missed it. As Hermione passed her wand over the centre of the well, Harry thought he saw the light glint off something far below.

“Hold it!” he ordered. “Move your wand back, slowly.”

Harry strained his eyes as Hermione followed his request, and this time it was much clearer; there was a dim but definite gleam of metal as Hermione’s wand passed over the dead centre of the well.

“There it is,” he exclaimed. “Do you see it?”

Hermione nodded. “Whatever it is, it’s either very small or a very long way down.”

“Did it look like metal to you?” Harry asked carefully.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “You think you know what it is, don’t you?” she responded, her voice laden with suspicion.

“I don’t know; it seems too much of a coincidence,” Harry replied slowly, “but Hufflepuff’s cup was golden, and it was pretty small; more like a goblet with handles than a cup really.” He looked around, his gaze resting on the rope and bucket that was sitting a few feet away.

“If it is the cup, I reckon Wingardium Leviosa definitely isn’t going to work. Do you reckon you can lower me down?”

It was the work of a moment to remove the bucket and fashion the end of the rope into a crude foot loop. As Hermione gripped the other end, Harry draped the loop over the side of the well and carefully climbed in after it. Slipping one foot into the loop, he awkwardly hooked his good arm around the rope, holding his wand with his injured hand.

Taking a deep breath, he looked over at Hermione.

“Okay.” He nodded. “Lower away.”

Harry gripped the rope as tightly as he could as it began to lower jerkily. The darkness began to engulf him much more quickly than he expected, and he lit his wand, shining it around as he was lowered further and further into the narrow shaft. At first he didn’t see anything unusual, the wand light revealing nothing except dry and dusty brickwork, but as the daylight receded completely, he began to feel that something wasn’t quite right. His heart was thumping like a jackhammer, but beyond that, growing steadily louder was an angry buzz. Harry couldn’t quite identify it, but he was sure that he had heard it before somewhere.

“Hermione?” he called out.

There was no response. Grumbling under his breath, Harry looked up and was shocked to see that the top of the well had receded to the size of a car tyre. Twisting his arm awkwardly, he managed to point his wand at his own throat.

“Sonorus,” he muttered, before trying again. “HERMIONE?”

His magically amplified voice echoed around the confines of the well, causing loose mortar to crumble away from the wall and making his ears ring. The rope stopped moving, and Harry heard Hermione’s own amplified voice boom around him.

“What is it, Harry?”

“I think there’s something down here,” he replied. “Hold the rope steady for a moment.”

Carefully Harry shone his wand beneath him, and his breath caught in surprise. Barely a metre beneath him, sitting on the dark, dry floor of the well was a golden cup. Even from this distance, Harry was sure that it was indeed Hufflepuff’s cup and not a decoy. Under the light of his wand he could see the finely wrought handles and the badger engraving that he had first seen in the Pensieve. As he twisted around trying to get a better look, the wand-light danced across the walls, but instead of brick he saw what appeared to be some sort of black, glossy substance coating the surface. Curious, he leaned closer intending to study the wall more carefully, but then a particularly angry sounding buzz made him jump, almost losing his grip on the rope. Now he knew where he had heard the noise before.

Doxies.

The bottom half a meter or so of the well wall was totally covered in the small, fairy like creatures. Harry suddenly became horribly aware of the gaze of hundreds of pairs of eyes, and the presence of a similar number of small, sharp teeth. Redoubling his grip on both the rope and his wand, he tried to recall what little he knew about Doxies. He knew they were venomous; Mrs Weasley had said as much when they had encountered an infestation in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place. On the other hand, she had allowed them to tackle them, something Harry was sure she wouldn’t have done if they were really dangerous, even if she did have a bottle of antidote to hand. Harry pondered the problem on his own for a few more moments, before looking upwards again.

“Hermione,” he called out. “Just how bad are Doxy bites?”

The casual tone of his enquiry didn’t fool Hermione for a moment.

“Doxies?” her shrill voice echoed back. “How many are there?”

“A lot,” Harry replied. “Too many to count.” The words had barely left his mouth when, with a jerk, the rope began pulling him up. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” he called out angrily.

“You can’t fight a whole horde of Doxies, Harry,” Hermione responded bluntly. “If you get bitten enough times you could die before I could even get you out of there.”

“Hermione, listen to me,” Harry pleaded. “We don’t have time to argue about this. How do we know that Voldemort doesn’t have detection spells set up? For all we know the Death Eaters could appear any minute. I have to try and get the cup, now.”

The rope stopped moving. Harry hung there for what seemed like an age, before Hermione responded again, and when she did she sounded close to tears.

“What if you end up unconscious, Harry? Ron can barely stand! I’m not going to be able to get both of you out of here on my own.”

“Yes, you will,” Harry replied sternly. “You can levitate me if you have to. And Ron just has to crawl or roll past the barrier, and then you can use the Portkeys. We can do this, Hermione; trust me.”

There was another long period of silence. Harry hung in midair, gritting his teeth angrily. Finally losing patience he looked down, measured the distance to the ground beneath him and prepared to let go of the rope and jump. Feeling his weight shift, Hermione realise what he was planning and finally relented. The rope began to lower again, until finally Harry felt the floor beneath his feet.

“Hold it here, Hermione,” he called out. “Get ready to pull when I say.” Checking that his foot was still securely in the loop on the end of the rope, he leaned over, stretching one hand out until his fingers were almost brushing one of the cup’s delicate handles. Swallowing nervously, he took several deep breaths, trying to compose himself, until--

“NOW!” he yelled. As the rope shot upwards he snatched the cup up, holding it close to his chest.

Immediately the angry buzz became a roar, and the well wall disappeared from view as the horde of angry Doxies surrounded Harry. He flailed frantically with his wand, sending hexes and curses in every direction as he tried to fight them off. It was like trying to fight a dragon with a toothpick, and it felt like only seconds had passed before he felt a stinging pain as a pair of sharp teeth sank into his arm. It was enough to distract him temporarily, and he felt several more bites in quick succession. As the rope continued to move up, he desperately tried to cast a Shield charm, but found that his movements were slow and sluggish. It felt like he was trying to move his arm through treacle, and the resulting spell was weak and ineffective. As more of the Doxy venom coursed through his veins Harry felt his eyelids growing heavy, and realising that he was in danger of passing out, he raised his wand arm and cast a Sticking Charm on the hand holding the rope, and another on the cup before slumping back, gasping for breath.

Getting closer to unconsciousness, Harry was only dimly aware of the darkness around him being replaced by a burst of sunlight as he was hauled over the rim of the well. He could hear a shouting off in the distance and felt himself being shaken bodily. He opened his eyes and forced them to focus on the dim blur that was Hermione.

“Harry? Can you hear me? Oh Merlin, wake up.” Hermione was almost sobbing as she desperately shook Harry by the shoulders again. Struggling to stay awake, Harry used all the force he could muster to put his thoughts into words.

“Cup,” he managed to gasp. “Where’s...cup?”

“You’re still alive! Oh thank god.” Hermione’s voice was full of relief. “I’ve got the cup here. Stay with me, Harry. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Harry felt himself rise into the air, and the next minute he was moving back towards the edge of the clearing. He was aware of Hermione keeping up a constant commentary although he couldn’t hear the words clearly, and he tried to concentrate on her voice as he hovered on the edge of unconsciousness. It was becoming harder to breathe, and Harry lost all sense of time and movement. He wasn’t really aware of when they reached Ron until he felt something poking him.

“Enervate,” Ron’s voice shouted. Harry felt a burst of energy surge through him and managed to open his eyes groggily.

“Harry?” Ron’s concerned face filled his view. “I’m going to activate the Portkey, but you need to stay with us. The landing’ll be even worse if you’re out of it.”

As Ron fumbled in his pockets, Harry could feel that he was losing the battle to stay awake, and as he felt the familiar pulling sensation in his stomach, Harry finally surrendered to the encroaching darkness.

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