Chapter 360: Combat and Flight

Under Harry and Zhang Qiu's unusual gazes, the two seemed to realize something and began adjusting their attire. Just then, Colin arrived at the Room of Requirement with his broom; after seeing Neville, he instantly concluded: "If Neville and Hannah are safe, then Hermione must be in danger."

"We need to rescue her," Neville said after a moment of silence.

Harry still felt something was off—he thought tonight's incident was a misunderstanding—but Ginny sprinted back quickly, and her words shattered his thoughts once more.

"Draco said no one there was fiddling with rings, but the Phoenix Ring pointed toward Hogwarts," she gasped. "The ball was paused. I told him our Dumbledore's Army members at school would organize a rescue—he finally calmed down."

At this moment, Harry had no interest in criticizing Draco's hypocrisy. He shouted loudly, "Who has a map? What lies between Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor?"

"Useless," Ivy shook her head. "We can't locate Malfoy Manor on any map—they've never revealed its position."

"But if Hermione is in danger, where could she possibly be in trouble? First, she has no enemies—even if she did, wouldn't Elina have had time to notify Donald before Hermione needed to activate the Phoenix Ring for help?" Harry grew more suspicious by the moment.

"Maybe she ran into trouble in the Muggle world?" Neville speculated carelessly. "Maybe Muggles stole her wand, so she had to use the ring."

"Hufflepuff is assembled!" Justin suddenly shouted.

"Ravenclaw is assembled!" Marietta echoed him.

Ron burst into the room clutching three brooms; he glanced around, then shouted, "Gryffindor is assembled!"

"No Slytherin here. Let's go," Ginny snatched a broom from him and fixed her intense gaze on Harry.

Harry swallowed hard. At this point, if they did nothing, tonight would end in chaos. Hesitantly, he took his Firebolt from Ron, pushed aside his worries, and shouted, "We leave through the secret passage."

The Room of Requirement did not reveal the passage to the Hog's Head; instead, it opened the ceiling. Several children cheered, excitedly mounting their brooms and preparing to take flight.

"Don't scatter!" Harry called out urgently. "Fly in pairs, side by side—stay alert at all times!"

For the children, this was an exhilarating armed procession. Not everyone worried about Hermione—but everyone was eager to use "justice" as an excuse for a wild, reckless act, especially right after their OWL exams.

Harry mounted his Firebolt. Zhang Qiu had no broom; instead, she sat sideways on the slender, toothpick-like sword. Before he could say anything, someone shot skyward—students followed, flying outward in the direction indicated by the rings.

Harry glanced at Zhang Qiu again. She had paired with Marietta, since the sword's speed clearly couldn't match the Firebolt—Harry forced himself not to think further, pushed off the ground, and soared upward. Ron flew beside him on his Nimbus 2000; without reaching top speed, the two brooms' performance was nearly identical.

"Why the rush?" Harry muttered as he lifted off, leaning forward to prepare for acceleration.

Soon, Hogwarts Castle shrank beneath him. Impatient students zipped past; Harry suddenly realized a downside of night flight—they couldn't see their allies.

"Lights on!" Harry raised his wand with one hand and shouted as loudly as he could.

Some students imitated him, raising their wands; the sky instantly sparkled with glowing points. To students gazing at the moon on the lawn, it looked like a meteor shower.

As Harry sped past Zhang Qiu, he saw her cheeks flushed, humming a tune. He strained to recognize the melody—but she stuck out her tongue at him.

Suddenly, a streak of red light flashed before their eyes. Harry froze.

Regaining his senses, Harry whipped his head around—his heart clenched. Several hooded figures hovered in midair, casting spells; a bright white dot spun downward toward the ground.

"Descend! Descend! Turn off lights and descend!" Harry bellowed, then executed a midair flip to dodge another red spell. "Turn off lights! Descend!"

Ron flew toward him, firing a counter-spell. The hooded figures scattered—they flew slowly but quickly launched another volley.

Two red spells whistled past Harry's left ear. He took a breath, maintaining altitude. He knew he could easily shake them off and return to the ground—but if no one guided the students from above, they'd panic.

Harry changed direction and fired a Stunning Spell at the attackers—but they easily dodged. He rolled sideways just in time; another spell grazed his cloak and vanished into the night.

"Their target is you!" Neville's voice came through the wind.

Harry thought this was obvious. He kept maneuvering in the air, shouting, "Descend!"

"Get down, Harry!" Zhang Qiu's voice came from below.

Harry realized he'd been blind—he should have drawn the attackers downward, not fought aimlessly in the sky.

As he hesitated, a red spell struck the tail of his Firebolt. Harry felt his flight destabilize—so he went with it, doing nothing, letting the broom plummet freely.

"I got him!" A voice rang out. Harry thought it sounded familiar.

Harry saw what lay below—a forest. He grew uneasy. What if there were ambushes—or worse? He had no time to think—if he didn't restore the broom's power, he'd die.

He gripped the broomstick tightly, forcing the magical object back to life. Fortunately, the Firebolt suffered no damage from the spell—it faithfully delivered its advertised acceleration: a hundred miles in seven seconds, instantly restoring Harry's speed.

As Harry skimmed above the treetops, he saw Ron diving toward him, still firing spells at his pursuers. Harry lit his wand again, cast a spell to draw the attention of the two robed figures, then plunged into the forest.

The Firebolt halted a foot above the ground. Harry tossed the broom down and hid behind a tree, observing cautiously. He couldn't understand what was happening—he was certain he'd been tricked. No one had called for help; the heated Phoenix Ring had only lured him out.

Harry clenched his wand. He didn't know how many ambushers lurked in the forest—but he had no intention of letting them capture him easily. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his inner pocket, steadied his breathing. With this Deathly Hallow, he was confident he could outmaneuver his enemies—but his greatest fear was this: if they captured his classmates and used their lives to threaten him, he'd be trapped.

Then Harry heard two dull thuds nearby—he guessed the attackers had landed.

"Potter must be here," came a voice utterly unfamiliar.

"This is our one chance—we must capture him," the voice Harry recognized echoed again.

Harry hid behind the tree, watching the two hooded figures slowly approach. He forced his pounding heart to calm, thinking of which spell to cast.

Suddenly, a rustling sound—seven or eight students leapt down from the trees, all pointing their wands at the attackers. In less than half a second, seven or eight Disarming Charms struck simultaneously, blasting their robes off.

Harry instantly recognized one face: William, a White House agent embedded among the Death Eaters.

"Who are you?" Neville demanded sharply.

William raised his hands helplessly, sighing, "How did so many of you show up?"

Harry noticed this too—students who'd taken brooms numbered at least thirty, while the attackers numbered fewer than ten.

He joined the circle around William with a wry smile, slipping the Invisibility Cloak back into his pocket. "Any other attackers? How many of you total?"

"None left. Seven total," William said gloomily. "We acted hastily."

"We shouldn't trust Death Eaters so easily. Stay alert," Neville still gripped his wand.

"If it's William, he has no reason to lie—he's not a Death Eater," Harry said. "He's White House."

"But the one beside him is Rabastan Lestrange," Hannah said. "I remember him—he's Bellatrix's brother."

Rabastan's face was ashen. He said nothing.

"You used the Phoenix Ring to lure me out—but you didn't expect Dumbledore's Army to come out in full force," Harry analyzed. "Is that right?"

"Fair's fair," William sighed. "You won. Completely."

"What did you bet on?" Harry glanced around, puzzled. "Was this half-baked plan supposed to work? If not for the students wanting to fly around, we wouldn't have even left."

"We bet we could capture you—that's our only chance to turn things around," William adjusted his posture, settling comfortably. "We can trade hostages to get Bellatrix and Delphi back."