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Harry stumbled into the Entrance Hall with Ron and Hermione and dumped his backpack onto the floor. Ron leaned against the wall heavily and sighed. 

“I still don’t see why we have to do this,” he grumbled.

“Come on, Ron!” Hermione said. “This could be fun!” 

“Yeah, sure. Trekking across the Scottish countryside in the middle of March with a massive backpack is my idea of a great weekend…”

“Why do you always have to be so miserable?!”

Harry sighed and tuned out their bickering as he scanned the Entrance Hall. In what Harry assumed was an attempt to distract them all from the situation with Sirius Black, Professor Dumbledore had declared at the start of the year that all third and fourth years were to participate in the Duke of Edinburgh award, a muggle scheme that Harry had heard of a couple of times at his primary school. It involved a number of activities like volunteering that had been quite a drag to get completed, but the main event that the students were in equal parts looking forward to and dreading was here - the expedition.

The expedition would involve all students being taken by Portkey to a section of countryside in Scotland. They had spent months plotting the route, which included certain checkpoints where the teachers would be waiting for them, and would walk over sixteen kilometres to reach the campsite where they would be staying and cooking their own meals. The most interesting part was that no magic was permitted. Dumbledore had been particularly insistent about that, since he wanted all students to do things the muggle way. They all had to hand in their wands to their Heads of House before they set off. 

Of course, the Slytherins had been furious about this development. Draco Malfoy in particular had loudly complained for months on end that they shouldn’t be stripped of their magic. Despite numerous appeals to his father, however, Dumbledore had stood firm. All third and fourth years would be participating in the Duke of Edinburgh award - or DofE, as the students called it - whether they liked it or not.

Dumbledore shot a purple firecracker out of his wand and everyone in the Entrance Hall fell silent. Harry’s eyes bugged - instead of his usual flamboyant robes, Dumbledore was wearing hiking boots and a neon blue rain jacket, and his long white hair had been tied back into a ponytail. It was quite possibly the strangest thing Harry had set his eyes on. Even though he and the other students were wearing hiking gear, he’d half expected the teachers to be going around in robes…

“Good morning, everyone!” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “Welcome to expedition day of the Duke of Edinburgh award! Now, please go to your Heads of House to register so they can register you and give you the last few items you’ll need.”

Harry grunted as he hauled his backpack off the ground and onto his shoulders before heading over to Professor McGonagall with Ron and Hermione. She was wearing a thick tartan coat instead of her usual robes. Realising Snape also had to have been dressed differently, Harry craned his neck around for a glimpse at the Slytherin group, but the Potions professor was still wearing his all-black, even if it was hiking gear, and didn’t look all that different from usual.

Once Professor McGonagall had finished marking everyone present, she cleared her throat. “As you know, the third and fourth-years will be in separate groups. Do you both have your maps?”

Hermione, who had more or less been unanimously elected as the group leader of the third-year Gryffindors, nodded vigorously and pulled out the map from the pocket of her jacket. Fourth-year Katie Bell did the same. 

“Good,” McGonagall said. “Now, there’s just one more thing you need.” She handed Seamus and a fourth-year boy whose name Harry didn’t know a walkie-talkie and a set of batteries. “These won’t work until you’re off the Hogwarts grounds and you put the batteries in, but you can use these to contact a member of staff if there’s an emergency. Only if there’s an emergency, am I understood?”

“Professor,” Ron began, “What actually is it?”

“A walkie-talkie,” she explained. “All of the staff have corresponding ones. If someone is hurt, you press that button and a nearby member of staff will get to you as soon as they can.”

“Couldn’t you just Apparate?” Parvati asked.

Professor McGonagall grimaced. “We could, but Professor Dumbledore has been rather insistent that we all do this the muggle way, including the staff. He’s rented a van and everything.”

“Can he even drive?” A fourth-year girl whispered.

Professor McGonagall overheard, and she pursed her lips. “That, Miss Hamish, is debatable. Now, all you hand over your wands, please.”

Harry reached into his pocket and reluctantly handed it over. Once Professor McGonagall had them all, she carefully put them into her backpack, which Harry resentfully noticed was significantly smaller than the monstrous thing he was being forced to lug around…

“Now, all of you follow Professor Lupin out of the Entrance Hall and onto the grounds so we can Portkey away. Potter, a word?”

The rest of the Gryffindors all followed Professor Lupin outside while Harry waited behind with Professor McGonagall. She reached into her pocket and handed him a necklace - it was made up of a silver chain with a small cylindrical pendant hanging from it. 

“Put that around your neck and don’t touch the pendant,” Professor McGonagall said. Harry pulled it over his head. “Now, while we are aiming not to use magic, we understand you’re in a fair bit of danger, what with Black…if you feel as if you’re at risk, you can twist that pendant three times and it will trigger a Portkey that transports you to a safe location, alright?”

“Okay,” Harry said. He had no plans to touch the thing, of course - he was thoroughly sick of all the teachers hovering over him constantly and worrying about Black.

“Now, catch up with the rest of the group,” she ordered. “The main Portkey will be setting off any minute.”

Harry nodded and began to hurry out of the Entrance Hall. As he rushed past the Slytherins, he heard Malfoy loudly shout, “But Professor! The Featherlight Charm isn’t hurting anyone!”

“Rules are rules, Mr Malfoy,” Professor Sinistra said sternly.

Harry smirked as he hurried down the steps. Malfoy had been bragging for weeks about how Snape would let the Slytherins get away with charming their gear, even if they couldn’t have their wands. It was good to know the Astronomy professor was stepping in so they’d suffer with the rest of the students…

Harry entered the courtyard to find the rest of the Gryffindors all crowded around what appeared to be a gnarled plank of driftwood. Professor Lupin spotted him and inclined his head towards the group. “Come on, Harry, touch the Portkey before it sets off.”

Harry frowned. “What?”

“Hurry up and stick a finger on it, the thing’s leaving any minute!” Ron called. Harry quickly did so, even if he didn’t quite understand why, and Professor Lupin shuffled through the crowd and stuck his own finger to the plank. Moments later, it glowed blue and Harry felt an odd jerking sensation behind his navel. His feet left the ground and Harry felt as though he was being transported through a hurricane, with noisy wind buffeting him from either side as his shoulders whacked against Ron and Professor Lupin…

The sensation was over almost as soon as it began, however, and Harry crashed into the floor. He groaned, feeling as though he’d been crushed by his backpack on the impact. The other students seemed similarly affected, although Professor Lupin was perfectly fine and had managed to keep his feet.

“Alright, everyone, here we are!” he said. Harry finally got up, brushed himself off and took a look around. The tall mountains and the large, dark mass of trees that made up the Forbidden had vanished. Instead, he was standing at the edge of a large green field, edged with birch trees. The Hufflepuff groups were also there, talking with Professor Sprout and Professor Burbage, while the Ravenclaw groups were both already walking off. 

“Now, Professor McGonagall should be here any minute… ah, there she is!” Harry turned around to where Professor Lupin was looking and saw Professor McGonagall had appeared behind them, holding a ragged old boot in front of her in between her thumb and forefinger which she promptly discarded in a nearby bin. 

“Now, we’ll see you at the first checkpoint in about, ah… two hours,” Professor Lupin said, glancing at his watch. “You may run into Professor McGonagall on the way, but I’ve volunteered to take the van with Professor Dumbledore, so I’ll only be around if someone gets injured… look, he’s heading here now, actually.” 

There was a loud honk behind Harry. He turned around and saw a dirt road just about visible between the birch trees, which a white van was currently careening up. It braked abruptly next to their group, sending up a large cloud of dust, and the window rolled down, revealing Professor Dumbledore, who Harry thought looked far too cheerful.

“Thank you, Remus,” Professor McGonagall said, staring at the van with no small amount of disdain.

“Well, as the only staff member who knows how to drive, I felt it was my duty.”

“Professor,” Seamus asked as Professor Lupin headed towards the van. “If he knows how to drive, why isn’t he in charge of the van instead of the Head?”

“Professor Dumbledore wished to give it a go,” Professor McGonagall said. The stormy look in her eyes was a clear indication of how she felt about the matter. “Now, if you wish to get to the campsite any time before nightfall, I’d recommend you get going. Third-years first. Good luck.”

Harry hiked his backpack further up his shoulders and began to walk with the rest of the third-year Gryffindors in the direction the Hufflepuff third-years had recently disappeared off to. It was just in time, as well - the Slytherins had just Portkeyed in, and Harry was in no mood to be dealing with Draco Malfoy.

“Now, we should be walking along this country road for a while,” Hermione said, her nose buried in the open map which they’d outlined their route on. “Then there’ll be a fork in the road, and we’ll carry on for about a half a kilometre until we reach the train crossing, where -”

“Hermione, can’t you just tell us all of this when it’s actually relevant?” Ron complained. 

Hermione sniffed. “Well maybe I’m sick of doing everything myself! If you have such a problem, why don’t you take over the map reading?”

“No, no, that’s fine!” Ron said quickly. He was very aware, as everyone in the group was, that Hermione was the only one who had any sort of clue how to read a map. 

“I don’t even get why we have to do this to begin with,” Parvati complained. “I mean we’re never going to be in a situation where we need to read a map, are we? If you get lost, you can just use the Point Me Charm.”

“It’s in case we lose our wands,” Hermione reminded them.

“If we lose our wands I reckon we’re in a lot more trouble than just being lost,” Seamus said darkly.

“Come on, guys, it’s not all bad,” Neville said. “There’s nice views, at least.”

“You have a point,” Harry admitted. Between the rolling green field and the cloudless blue sky, it was a remarkably beautiful place to be walking.

Lavender pointed at some distant brown smudges at the end of the field and squealed. “Look! Horses!”

Harry shaded his eyes with a hand and squinted and realised that there were indeed a few horses grazing in a neighbouring field. 

“We should go and see them!” Parvati said excitedly.

“Well,” Hermione said, scanning the map, “they are on our route, so why not?”

The eight of them made quick work approaching the horses, who seemed to take a shine to Lavender and Parvati. Harry even gave them an apple from his food supply to feed to the creatures. They both whinnied softly as Lavender and Parvati stroked their manes. 

Suddenly, Dean cleared his throat. “Not to rush you guys, but the Slytherins are catching up with us, so we might want to get going…”

Harry glanced over his shoulder and could make out Malfoy’s blonde hair growing closer and closer. He grimaced - the last thing they needed was to be dealing with those gits. The girls seemed to feel the same way, and so all of them donned their backpacks once more and continued their journey.

It wasn’t long before any novelty of walking began to wear off. Neville’s boots were slightly too big and he kept tripping and stumbling, almost always knocking Seamus off-balance in the process, while the countryside had seemingly all turned into an uphill path that left them all panting and sweating. Worst of all, it turned out Hermione and Parvati were both very allergic to pollen. In fact, Hermione’s hay fever was so bad that her eyes had swollen half-shut within an hour of their journey starting. She rubbed them and sighed loudly.

“You know,” Harry said, “you’re not meant to rub them, it makes it worse -”

“I know, Harry!” she snapped, shoving the map into his chest. “Who’s got the first aid kit? I put some antihistamines in there…”

“I’ve got it,” Neville said, dropping his backpack, “but it’s shoved right to the bottom, hang on…”

He started to dig around his backpack, throwing half the contents to the ground in the process, while Parvati shared some tissues with Hermione. Finally, Neville surfaced with the first-aid kit. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said, popping two pills and handing one to Parvati while Neville attempted to repack his bag.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered. “It all fit a minute ago!” 

Harry went over and started helping him shove it all back down while Hermione took a large gulp of water and got to her feet. “Come on, then. Let’s get going.”

Parvati frowned. “Shouldn’t we wait a minute until these kick in?”

“They won’t for a while, we might as well start walking.”

“But Pollen Potions work instantly!” Parvati complained. “Why couldn’t we just use those?”

“Because we’re stuck doing it the muggle way, aren’t we?” Dean gave Parvati a sympathetic look. “Sorry.”

Parvati groaned as Lavender helped her to her feet while Hermione unfurled the map again. 

“I’m going to kill Dumbledore,” Seamus muttered.

“Get in line,” Harry said grimly, readjusting his bag. A tent pole was poking him rather uncomfortably between the shoulder blades, and had been for the last hour. No matter what he did, Harry couldn’t quite get it to stop.

They continued their journey for a while, occasionally stopping for Hermione and Parvati when their sneezing fits got too bad. Harry didn’t have a clue where they could be - after a while, the mixture of woodland and fields all started to blur together into one great mass of green.

After a prolonged period of them walking across a particularly large field, Dean glanced at his watch and frowned. “Er - guys, Professor Lupin said he’d see us in two hours, didn’t he?”

“Yeah?” Seamus said.

“Well, it’s been way over that and I don’t think we’re anywhere near the checkpoint,” Dean said.

Hermione pressed the map close to her face and groaned. “Oh, no! We must have missed one of the forks!”

“Well how’d you manage that?” Ron demanded.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Ronald, I can’t see!” she shouted, gesturing to her swollen, red eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Harry said, getting in between them before a fully-blown fight could break out. “Let’s figure this out. Do you know which fork we missed, Hermione?”

She scanned the map and their surroundings before sighing. “No, I can’t work it out…”

“Let me have a go,” Dean offered, taking the map from her. Harry crossed his fingers, but his hopes were promptly dashed when Dean shook his head. “Nope, nothing. We’re properly lost.”

Ron sighed. “Great…”

“What do we do?” Parvati asked.

“We could use that talkie thing Professor McGonagall gave us?” Lavender suggested.

“Walkie-talkie,” Hermione corrected, “and no, we can’t. Professor McGonagall said we’re only supposed to use it in case of emergency.”

“I count being lost in the middle of nowhere as an emergency!” Ron countered.

“Don’t be stupid, Ron!” 

“I’ll put the batteries in while you decide,” Harry said, taking the walkie-talkie from Seamus while Ron and Hermione argued. He sort of hoped that they could just wear themselves out now so he wouldn’t have to put up with their bickering all weekend. They’d already been at each other's throats for months because of Scabbers and Crookshanks, and Harry was getting thoroughly sick of it.

By the time he’d sorted out the walkie-talkie, however, the rest of the group had sided with Ron. It was decided that they’d call a teacher for help in case they got more lost trying to work it out on their own, although Hermione seemed very annoyed at them all for it.

“So how does that thing work?” Neville asked.

“You hold down the button while you talk, and the other people on the same frequency can hear you,” Dean explained.

Lavender frowned. “Frequency?”

“Muggle thing, we can explain a bit more on the way,” Dean said. “Why don’t you just show them, Harry?”

“Alright,” Harry said, holding the device to his mouth. “Erm - hello? We need a little help. We’ve gotten kind of lost, and we don’t know where to go.”

There was a moment’s silence before the walkie-talkie crackled. “Mr Potter, does walking through the wrong field really constitute an emergency in your mind, or are you just that incompetent?”

The whole group collectively cringed as Snape’s voice sounded through the speaker, and Neville jumped so violently that he actually fell over backwards. Harry quickly handed the walkie-talkie to Ron.

“Professor, please -” Lavender started.

“Ron, you need to press the button for him to hear us,” Hemione interrupted.

“Right.” Ron pressed down onto the button and held the walkie-talkie in Lavender’s direction.

“Professor, please help us? We have absolutely no idea where we are.”

“Well, Miss Brown, you’ll have to make use of something known as road signs,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “They’re made up of pictures, you see, so even illiterate Gryffindors should be able to work out where they’re going.”

“There aren’t any signs, we’re just stuck in a massive field!” Seamus complained. “Come on, sir!”

There was silence from the walkie-talkie.

“Hello?” Dean shouted. 

The silence from the other end remained, and Ron huffed loudly. “Who’s stupid idea was it to put that greasy git in charge of the emergency line?”

The speaker abruptly crackled and everyone in the group jumped. “Detention, Mr Weasley, and twenty points from Gryffindor for disrespect.”

“Ron!” Hermione hissed. “You’re supposed to take your finger off the button or he can still hear!”

“Indeed,” Snape drawled, and Ron threw the walkie-talkie in Harry’s direction. He just about managed to snatch it out of the air before it smashed into the ground. “Now, Miss Granger, if you could, use that intellect to actually work out this situation for yourselves instead of whingeing about it.”

The speaker went dead again.

“Bastard,” Seamus grumbled before glancing back at the walkie-talkie and cringing. 

“It’s off,” Harry confirmed, putting it in his pocket. 

“New rule,” Dean said, “as the muggle-raised people in the group, only Hermione, Harry and I get to use the walkie-talkie so that doesn’t happen again.”

“I’m okay with that,” Parvati said, nervously staring at Harry’s pocket.

“Hey, my dad’s a muggle, I could probably figure it out!” Seamus protested.

“Can we please stop bickering and work out what we’re doing?” Harry snapped. Ron and Hermione were already wearing him out - he couldn’t take Seamus and Dean starting. 

“Okay, okay…”

“Hey, there’s a house over there,” Lavender said, pointing into the distance. It was a small cabin that Harry thought was depressingly far away. “Maybe that’ll be connected to a road so we can work out where we are from there?”

“Good idea,” Hermione said, starting to march in the direction of the cabin. 

After about another ten minutes of walking, they came closer to the cabin and realised that Lavender had been right - they were by a road, although it was behind a fence and some trees.

“Should be some signs, then,” Seamus said happily. Suddenly, movement registered in the corner of Harry’s vision. He turned his head and saw a lanky, grey-bearded man emerging from the cabin.

“Oh, maybe he can help us!” Hermione said, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Excuse me? Can you - OH MY GOD!”

Harry jumped back at Hermione’s screech, and immediately realised why she was freaking out - the man was holding a shotgun, which was pointed right at them.

“GET OFF!” he roared, jabbing his finger at them. “DID YEH NOT READ THE BLEEDIN’ SIGNS, YA EEJITS? NO TRESPASSING!”

“We’re sorry!” Dean shouted. “We’re just on DofE -”

“I DON’T CARE!” he bellowed. “I’M SICK OF YEH BLASTED DOFE KIDS COMING INTO MY FIELD! THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY, NOW - GET - OUT!”

He pointed the shotgun into the sky and there were two almighty blasts that punctuated his final words. Hermione screamed, and several nearby birds all took off from the trees. Those in the group who weren’t muggle-raised were all standing idly, staring at Hermione, Harry, Seamus and Dean in confusion.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Harry shouted, shoving Ron and Lavender forward. “RUN!”

He led the charge of fleeing students, very conscious of the man still waving his shotgun wildly out of the corner of his eye. With all the skills he’d picked up on from years of Dudley’s Harry Hunting, he leapt the gate and roughly hit the road with a grunt as all of his backpack’s weight crushed down on his shoulders. Harry quickly helped Parvati over and grimaced as Neville fell flat on his face. 

“Keep going!” Dean said urgently once all of them were over the gate, and the eight of them started to run again.

“What the hell is he playing at?!” Seamus shouted as they hurried up the road. “That was so dangerous!”

“What - actually - was that?” Ron panted as they continued to jog, their backpacks all jingling loudly.

“A gun,” Dean said, frowning.

“What’s a gun?” Parvati asked.

“How do they not teach you that?” Harry demanded. “That seems like pretty damn important information for wizards to have!” 

“Well, then do tell us!” Ron said irritably.

“It’s like… I guess a muggle wand, but you can only hurt or kill people with it,” Harry said, trying to think of an easy way to put it.

“Then why are muggles just allowed to have them?!” Lavender demanded.

“They’re not!” Hermione screeched. “I know some farmers have them, but that man shouldn’t be allowed within ten miles of a gun! He could have killed us!”

“Well, he did warn us about the no trespassing signs,” Dean admitted reluctantly, nodding towards a few notices stuck to the fence, many of which featured the words ‘NO TRESSPASSING’ embossed in a large bold font.

“You’re still not allowed to shoot people for walking onto your field, even if they are trespassing!” Hermione said angrily. “It’s against the law!”

“Plus, he didn’t exactly label that on the other end of his field, so maybe he should stop pointing guns at kids!” Seamus snapped. “Bloody hell…”

“I think we should really radio a teacher about him!” Hermione said indignantly, folding her arms.

“Oh, now you’re all for that,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

“When there’s a crazed lunatic with a shotgun that could be a threat to other students then yes, Ronald, I do consider that to be an actual emergency!”

“There’s probably no point,” Harry said, kicking a rock with his shoe. “It’s Snape on the other end, remember? He’ll probably come down here and help that farmer finish the job.” 

“Er - guys?” Neville said timidly. “Can we stop for a minute? I caught my arm on that fence and I’m kind of bleeding…”

“Oh, Neville!” Lavender said, wincing sympathetically. Harry could see why - Neville had ripped open the sleeve of his jacket, and a large, jagged cut that stretched the entire length of his forearm was currently staining the fabric with blood. While Lavender and Dean helped him bandage it, Harry begrudgingly admitted that maybe he should take Snape’s advice and look at some signs - they had just come up to some on the road, after all…

“The B3807,” Harry read aloud. “Is that good?”

“Hmm…” Hermione squinted at the map and beamed. “Oh, we’re not as far off as I thought! We’re right by the train tracks! Harry, can you double-check for me?” 

Harry followed her finger and nodded. “Yep. Right by it!”

“If we just follow them east, we’ll be at the checkpoint in about twenty minutes,” she said. “Come on, let’s get going!”

“Hang on a second!” Ron said, grabbing her by the hood of her jacket. “We’ve just been sprinting away from some madman, give us a minute to breathe!”

“Oh, suck it up, Ron,” she snapped.

“Are you forgetting Neville’s bleeding out?” he hissed, gesturing towards Neville, who was still struggling with a bandage. 

“Oh, no I can get going in a minute,” he said quickly, glancing nervously at the angry Hermione. She sighed. “No, we can wait…”

However, her tapping foot was not missed by the rest of the group, and Dean and Parvati made quick work of wrapping Neville’s arm before they set off again. Luckily, the train tracks were quite close. Exhausted from the run and the bickering, the eight of them travelled next to tracks in silence until faint voices became faintly audible over the singing birds and the crunching of their footsteps. 

Lavender breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally…”

They all quickened their pace until the trees thinned and they entered a small clearing. There weren’t a lot of people there - just Madam Hooch, Professor McGonagall and Snape, who had his back to them as he spoke with a group of miserable-looking Slytherin fourth-years. 

“There you all are!” Professor McGonagall said. “You’re nearly an hour late, where were you?”

“Got lost,” Harry said, glaring at Snape’s back.

Professor McGonagall sighed. “Well, you’ll have to eat your lunch quickly. You’re behind as it is.” 

All of them dropped their backpacks to the ground and finally sat down. Harry rolled his aching shoulders before unwrapping his sandwich. His stomach growled. All of the walking had left him completely famished.

“Longbottom, what on earth have you done to your arm?” Professor McGonagall asked, her lips thinning.

“Cut it while we were running,” Neville mumbled.

Shook her head. “The things you all get up to… Madam Hooch, could you grab the medical supplies? What were you running for?”

“A farmer started firing a shotgun at us!” Hermione said indignantly. Professor McGonagall’s head abruptly jerked up, and even Snape turned around to watch them with his beady eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” Professor McGonagall asked, lips thinning.

“Well, technically he fired it in the sky,” Dean corrected, “but it was pointed at us at some point!”

“Why?”

“Well, while we were lost we accidentally wandered into his field,” Harry said.

Professor McGonagall’s nostrils flared. “What were you doing trespassing in his field?”

Harry’s mouth fell open - he couldn’t believe she was blaming them for what had happened!

Seamus seemed similarly annoyed. “Well, he didn’t exactly mark his stupid field!” 

“Mind your manners, Finnegan,” she said sharply.

“He has a point, Minerva,” Madam Hooch chimed in from where she was patching up Neville’s arm. “Some slightly lost Hufflepuffs got here earlier and reported having similar issues with an unmarked field and an irate farmer, although I must admit I don’t recall him actually shooting at them…”

“Perhaps Potter and his friends thought their little tale would be better with some embellishments,” Snape said silkily.

“He did start firing it!” Harry protested angrily. They wouldn’t have been lost in that field if Snape hadn’t left them out to dry when they radioed him, so he had no right to call them liars! 

“Maybe we ought to send Albus to talk to him?” Madam Hooch suggested.

“In that van? No, I’d rather limit the chances of him and Remus getting into a fiery car wreck,” Professor McGonagall said crisply. “No, I suppose I’ll double back and do it.” She scanned over Harry’s group, who had almost finished eating by now. “Do try not to get lost again, please?”

Ron scoffed. “Like we did it on purpose…”

“What was that, Weasley?” she asked sharply.

“Nothing,” Ron muttered, staring sullenly at the ground.

“Well, let’s get going, then,” Hermione said briskly. “I don’t want us to be the last group there!”

“It’s not a competition, Hermione!” Lavender complained.

Harry shouldered his backpack with a groan. It was somehow harder to pick it up after their brief rest. 

“And you’re sure we’re going the right way this time?” Ron pressed as they left the checkpoint and headed down a winding path.

“Pretty sure, yes,” she said tightly.

“Well, you were pretty sure last time -”

“Oh, shut up, Ronald!”

Harry rolled his eyes at the others. This was going to be a long journey…

Luckily for the rest of them, Ron and Hermione settled for ignoring each other after about five minutes of bickering, which left them in merciful silence, excluding the occasional rants about the unfairness of Snape or Professor McGonagall.

After about another hour of walking, Parvati cleared her throat. “Hermione, do you know when we’re going to stop by some loos?”

“Oh, we won’t,” Hermione said with a shrug.

“What do you mean?” Lavender asked, frowning. “Did you not put our route near any?”

“I couldn’t. We’re in the middle of nowhere, there aren’t going to be any public toilets.”

“Well what are we meant to do then?” Parvati demanded.

“Use a bush, I suppose…”

“Ugh!” Lavender screwed up her nose. “That’s ridiculous!”

Seamus snickered, and Parvati glowered at him. “Don’t you dare laugh.” She turned back to Hermione. “How long to the camp?”

“Three hours if we don’t get lost.”

Parvati groaned. “I’m going, then.”

“Same here,” Lavender said. Hermione made to follow them.

“Why do they have to travel in packs?” Ron asked loudly. All three girls turned around and shot them withering glares. 

“Don’t you dare follow, or I’ll put cockroaches into your soup in the Great Hall,” Hermione threatened, jabbing a finger in their direction.

“Alright, alright!” Ron said, holding his hands up defensively. As the girls walked away, he turned to the rest of them. “She can be properly scary…”

“Got that right,” Harry muttered. They all stood around idly until the girls returned and they continued on their journey. 

Harry couldn’t help but reflect that the relaxing potential of walking through the countryside was somewhat dampened by their circumstances. All three of the girls had seemingly decided they were angry with all the boys, now, extending the icy silence from just Ron and Hermione, and even the travelling itself was overshadowed by the slight fear that another trigger-happy farmer would come at them any time. All in all, the eight of them were in a thoroughly terrible mood and nobody said a word until Neville abruptly broke the silence after about an hour and a half of not speaking.

“What’s that in the distance?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry said, squinting. “I can’t tell from this far.”

“I think they might be more horses?” Lavender suggested. Harry noticed she seemed significantly less enthused by these horses than by the ones they’d seen at the start of their journey.

“No, that’s not right,” Ron said, craning his necks. “Actually, I’m pretty sure they’re cows.”

“Oh. Cool.” As their group continued through the field, Ron was proven correct - the creatures were, in fact, cows. As they drew closer and closer to them, however, Harry noticed something strange. Seamus had visibly tensed, and beads of sweat had built up on his forehead. He was glancing about the herd nervously, and practically jumped out of his skin when one cow let out a loud moo.

Dean finally caught onto this and snickered. “You’re not scared of the cows, are you?”

“Shut up!” Seamus snapped.

“Oh my God, you are!” Dean said delightedly. “That’s hilarious!”

“It’s not!” he protested, shoving Dean. “They’re just - they’re just a bit intimidating, okay?”

“Oh yeah, really scary,” Ron snorted. “Be careful, or they’ll moo at you, oh no -”

“Oh no, it’s charging!” Seamus shrieked an octave higher than his voice usually was. Surely enough, a cow had started trampling in their direction.

“Relax, Seamus, it’s not going to hurt you -” But Parvati’s words fell on deaf ears. Seamus took one look at the cow and started sprinting in the direction of the distant gate.

“Oh, that idiot!” Hermione shouted. “Now they’re all going to go after us!”

Harry frowned. “But they’re just cows -”

“Look at them, Harry!” she shouted. “We could get trampled!”

Harry turned around and felt his heart plummet. Surely enough, the entire herd was now coming at them. As Harry stared down what had to be dozens upon dozens of running cows, he abruptly developed a newfound understanding of Seamus’ phobia. 

“Run!” Hermione screeched. Harry wasted no time in doing so, and for the second time that day found himself desperately sprinting through a field, trying to get to the gate in time. It didn’t seem like they’d make it - the cows were outpacing them significantly, and the exit was so far…

But by some miracle, Harry just about got to the gate in time. He practically threw himself at it, which he immediately regretted as the metal bar slammed directly into his stomach and knocked the wind out of him, but there was no chance to open the gate properly with dozens of cows pressing in on them from all sides. Harry yanked himself over, but as his friends hurriedly tried to do the same, Ron knocked into Harry and he lost his balance. With a yelp, Harry fell from the gate and directly into Seamus and Parvati, throwing them all into the ground. As if things weren’t bad enough, the ground happened to be a patch of stinging nettles.

“Owch!”

“Bloody hell!”

“What was that for, Harry?!”

“I didn’t mean to!” he said indignantly, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. “Ron knocked into me.”

“Sorry, mate -”

“You should be!” he yelled. Practically every part of his flesh felt as if it was on fire, and he rubbed at his arms. 

“Well I wouldn’t have knocked into you if I hadn’t been running, which wouldn’t have happened if this moron hadn’t started running from the cows!” Ron said angrily, jabbing his finger at Seamus.

“They were running at us!”

“Well when that happens, you don’t also start running!” Hermione snapped.

“I have a phobia!” Seamus shouted, brushing his skin. The rash from the nettles had already started to show up, leaving it red and mottled.

Hermione huffed. “Well, let’s keep going…”

As they shuffled along, Harry noticed Dean smirking. He tapped Seamus on the shoulder.

“What?” he snapped.

“Moo.”

“Oh, come on!” Seamus shouted.

Somehow, that broke the tension and all of them started laughing, even Hermione. They spent the rest of the journey teasing Seamus, who had gone rather red in the face. Whenever the laughter finally eased off, someone would moo again, which would set the whole group off. Even Seamus had started to laugh along by the end. 

Still, despite the improvement in the group mood, Harry was really looking forward to getting into camp. The rash from the stinging nettles was burning fiercely on every part of his skin. Hermione had tried to give him, Seamus and Parvati some dock leaves she’d spotted to rub on the rash since they apparently helped with nettle stings, but it really didn’t do much to take the edge off.

All in all, Harry couldn’t have been more relieved as they reached the crest of a hill and finally spotted the distant campsite. 

“Come on!” Ron shouted. “Let’s get going!”

“Alright, slow down!” Neville protested as they started hurrying down the hill. Slowly, the half-pitched tents became clearer, as did the groups of students milling around them. There were a couple plumes of smoke from where a few students had already started attempting to cook a hot dinner, which was part of the DofE expedition checklist.

As they drew closer, Harry also noticed Professor Lupin and Dumbledore sitting in deck chairs next to a folding table. Both of them were holding clipboards.

“Ah, there you all are!” Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully. “Welcome to the campsite, ladies and gentlemen. Glad you could make it.” 

“Are we the last ones?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“No, no,” Dumbledore said, glancing down at his list. “Far from it, actually. I believe the fourth-year Slytherins are a little behind you, while last I heard the Ravenclaw third-years have gotten very turned around… Remus, perhaps we should get in the van to help them out -”

“No, no!” Professor Lupin said quickly, looking rather green at the thought. He looked them up and down and frowned. “Harry, Seamus, Parvati. Why do you look as if you’ve lost a fight with a patch of stinging nettles?”

“Because we have,” Seamus grumbled.

Professor Lupin sighed. “Put your supplies away - Professor McGonagall will show you where your tent’s going - then head over to the teacher’s tent. It’s the big orange one. We have a topical cream that can clear that up for you.”

“Thanks, sir,” Harry said, readjusting the straps of his backpack. They were really digging into his shoulders.

“Well done, all of you!” Dumbledore said happily as they all headed in the direction of Professor McGonagall. 

“He should not be in such a good mood,” Lavender complained. 

“Got that right,” Ron said.

The eight of them quickly made their way over to Professor McGonagall. She ushered them to a bare patch of grass. 

“Here’s where you’ll be setting up.” Harry was incredibly displeased to notice they were right next to the Slytherin boys, although it was rather amusing to watch Crabbe smack Goyle in the face with a rogue tent pole. “Potter, Patil, Finnegan, what have you done to your skin?”

“Stinging nettles.”

“Well, off to the tent, then,” she said exasperatedly, spinning on her heel and stalking across the campsite. The three of them quickly followed as Professor McGonagall ranted away. “Honestly, I thought the Ravenclaws were bad but your group is just terrible! Is it really that difficult to walk through the countryside without breaking your fool necks?” She shook her head as they ducked their head inside of the teachers’ tent. As they looked around, Harry realised this was more like a marquee than a tent - there was plenty of room to stretch out inside, and there was even a small plastic skylight in the ceiling. It was mostly deserted, with the exception of Madam Hooch and Hannah Abbott, who was sitting in a chair and icing her ankle.

“Madam Hooch, can you take it from here?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Of course,” Madam Hooch said briskly, handing Harry a tube of something. She’d seemingly become the DofE Mediwitch from what Harry could tell. “Right, put this on… now, Miss Abbott, let me take another look at that ankle…”

Harry slathered the ointment onto his skin and breathed a sigh of relief as the fiery sting finally faded. He handed it over to Seamus and Parvati who applied it to their arms and faces before the three of them headed back to the tent.

“It’s really unfair,” Parvati complained. “They’re going on about how we all can’t use magic, but that tent’s clearly enhanced.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Obviously, Harry!” she said exasperatedly. “Look at it, the inside was obviously bigger!”

Harry glanced back at the tent and realised Parvati was right. The exterior certainly didn’t look as large as it had done inside.

“I didn’t realise you could do that,” he said thoughtfully.

“Well, you can,” she said. “Honestly, I forget you were muggle-raised sometimes…”

“Cheer up, Parvati,” Seamus said. “Remember when we practised setting them up last week? I’m fairly certain ours are bigger on the inside, too.”

Parvati sighed. “I suppose…”

They headed back over to the rest of the group, who were currently attempting to set up the girls’ tent. Dean and Hermione were reading through the instructions together while Ron happily hammered away at a peg. Neville had somehow gotten tangled in the canvas, and Lavender was attempting to free him. Seamus and Parvati went over to help while Harry peered over Hermione’s shoulder at the instructions. “Is it going alright?”

“Yeah, but we have to remember to unfold the poles before -”

“Well, well, well,” Malfoy drawled, strolling up to them and folding his arms. “If it isn’t the Gryffindorks.”

Hermione ignored him. “We should be able to get this done in about -”

“Hello? Have you all gone deaf?” Malfoy said loudly.

“No,” Hermione said coolly. “Honestly, Malfoy, your insults have really gotten rather dull, so why even bother? Didn’t you have six hours of walking to come up with something better than that?”

Malfoy’s face twisted. “Shut up, you filthy little -”

“I’d think long and hard before you finish that sentence,” Harry said in a low voice. He almost instinctively reached for his wand before remembering that the teachers had taken them at the start of the day. Instead, Harry readied his fists - he could almost certainly best Draco in a fight, at any rate…

Malfoy also seemed to realise this, and took a step back. He sneered. “I’m not scared of you, Potter. I heard you all nearly got killed by a muggle earlier!” 

“No one asked for your input, Malfoy!” Ron shouted. “Now, why don’t you clear off before -”

“And what’s going on here?” Professor Snape seemed to swoop in out of nowhere. “Fighting, Potter, Weasley? That’ll be ten points from Gryffindor each. All of you, back to work.” 

Harry glared at the smug-looking Malfoy as he and Snape walked back to the Slytherin tents. He noticed resentfully that Snape was helping them set up, something which Harry was fairly sure had to be cheating. 

“He is so unfair!” Ron complained, hitting a peg with more force than was strictly necessary and driving it deep into the earth.

“Can he even take points?” Lavender asked. “We’re not in school!”

“I bet he can,” Dean said gloomily. “If not, he’ll just find an excuse to take them when we are back.”

“Come on,” Neville said, casting a nervous look in the direction of Snape. “Let’s sort these tents out so we can avoid the Slytherins…”

They made relatively quick work of pitching the tents between the lot of them. Parvati, Lavender and Hermione were sharing the slightly smaller tent, while Harry and the rest of the boys were staying in the other. As they all crawled inside, Harry realised Seamus had been right - it was slightly bigger on the inside, although it was still rather cramped between the five of them.

After they rolled out their sleeping bags, they went back outside to take a shot at cooking dinner. They had been given some strange little metal stoves called trangias to cook with, and their group had decided pasta was the easiest option. Harry, who had a fair amount of experience with cooking food from his time at the Dursleys, ended up sorting their dinner alongside Hermione. They got Ron to take Neville to a nearby tap to get them some water to boil, since Harry thought it probably wasn’t the best idea to have the boy anywhere near fire considering his track record in Potions. 

As he cooked, however, Harry half-wished he was doing it alone. After all, it really wasn’t that difficult to make pasta, and Hermione was really micromanaging him terribly. Harry just about managed to keep his temper until they finished cooking and served up the food, which was a relief. 

They’d just finished eating when Professor Lupin stood in the middle of the campsite and clapped his hands. “Everyone!” he shouted. “Once you’ve finished washing up, Professor Dumbledore is setting up a bonfire for anyone interested!”

Several people cheered and Harry turned to the other Gryffindors with a grin. “I know what I’m doing tonight.”

Seamus, Dean, Lavender and Parvati, who had volunteered to wash up, hurried off to do that while Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville followed the crowd to where the teachers had gathered in a circle around a massive pile of kindling that Dumbledore was arranging into a pyramid shape. The rest of their group got back just in time as he started to rub two sticks together.

“What’s he doing?” Lavender whispered, looking rather confused. 

“That’s how you light a fire the muggle way,” Hermione explained, “although it’s horribly difficult, it would be easier if he used a flint and - oh, look! He’s done it!” 

Surely enough, small orange flames were beginning to spread from the tiny twigs at the base of the pyre. Several students whooped as Professor Dumbledore stood back. Gradually, the flames spread until a large, roaring bonfire stood before them. 

Someone had brought marshmallows with them which they passed around the group, and everyone shoved them on sticks and began roasting them. Naturally, Neville almost immediately set his on fire, and he had to be quickly aided by Parvati and Dean in putting it out. Unfortunately, the marshmallow was thoroughly charred.

“You can swap me,” Ron offered, noticing Neville’s crestfallen face. “I think they taste better when they’re burned anyway.”

At first, Harry thought he was lying to make Neville feel better until he took a bite out of his own marshmallow, which was a little on the blackened side. Ron was completely right - the balance between the crispiness of the burnt shell and the gooey centre was absolutely heavenly. He managed to snag a couple more marshmallows when they were passed around again and intentionally burned them, wanting to make the most of the experience.

As Harry feasted, he listened in on the various ghost stories being told - seeing as ghosts were actually real, they ended up being a lot scarier than the muggle ones. There was even a half-blood Ravenclaw who swore up and down that Bloody Mary was real, but could only be summoned by witches and wizards. Harry was desperately curious to know if that one was true, but wasn’t exactly eager to test it out. 

When that got old, someone managed to get them all loudly singing the Hogwarts school song at the top of their lungs. Professor Dumbledore even cheerfully conducted from the log he was sitting on, and gave them all a raucous round of applause when they were finished.

Eventually, the fire slowly died down into embers and the students gradually began to drift away and back into their tents. Harry and the other third-year Gryffindors crammed themselves into the boys’ tent to play card games, and didn’t stop until Professor McGonagall loudly announced lights out. As Harry shuffled down into his sleeping bag, he couldn’t help but smile. Despite some of the stress of their journey, it had been a pretty fun day.

Harry woke up the following morning to the sound of the tent zip being violently ripped open. Harry shoved his glasses onto his face, only to be met with the beady eyes of Professor Snape. He jumped - that was not a face you wanted to see first thing in the morning.

“Up,” he growled. “Now.”

Seamus looked at his watch and groaned loudly. “It’s five in the morning!”

“Indeed, Mr Finnegan,” Snape said silkily. “While I am fascinated to know you have the ability to read a clock face, I’d suggest you stop talking and hurry up.”

Seamus suddenly jerked back, as if he’d only just realised who he was talking to. Snape glared at them one last time before withdrawing from the tent.

“Really, Miss Patil,” Professor McGonagall’s muffled voice said from outside of their tent, “it’s not that early. Come on, now.”

Harry yawned and tried to stretch, even though all of his sore muscles screamed out in protest. His body felt as if he’d done a month’s worth of Quidditch practice in a day. He didn’t have a clue how they were expected to do another day’s worth of walking…

“Come on, Ron,” he urged, shaking his friend’s shoulder after he noticed Ron’s breathing beginning to even out again. “Get up. You don’t want Snape to come back in here and drag you out, do you?”

That certainly woke him up.

Harry shivered as he shuffled out of his sleeping bag and immediately donned his jacket. It was absolutely freezing, and he was dreading leaving the tent and facing the cold bite of the morning air. Eventually, he managed to brave it and found Lavender and Parvati huddled together while Hermione briskly packed her bag.

“There you are!” she said, spotting Harry. “Good morning.”

“Er - morning.” Harry watched with slight alarm as she popped three antihistamines out of the packet and drank them down in one gulp.

“Hermione,” he said hesitantly, “I do know about hay fever, you know. You’re only meant to take one every twelve hours or something -”

“We’re just getting ahead of it,” Parvati said, taking the pills from Hermione and also taking three. “They barely worked yesterday, we obviously need a higher dose.”

“I really don’t think that’s how it works -”

“Just leave us to it, Harry,” Hermione said in that brisk voice which always meant business. “Hurry up and get ready. I want to leave before six so we can get ahead of the others."

“Hermione, for the last time, it’s not a race!” Harry complained, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t even have the motivation to brush his teeth, let alone pack up an entire campsite…

“I’m the only one in this group that knows how to read a map, is that right?” Hermione asked pointedly.

“Er - yeah…”

“Then we do this on my terms,” she said. “Now hurry up.” 

After a fast-paced hour of packing up, punctuated by Hermione barking orders at them, the third-year Gryffindor campsite had been completely packed up. It was quite the feat, especially since Harry half-thought he’d never manage to condense all of his belongings down again. He pulled his backpack on, which felt twice as heavy as it had the previous day, almost like it was filled with rocks. That didn’t make any sense, seeing as it should be lighter considering they’d used up most of their food rations. Harry just assumed it was another way in which his sore, aching muscles were going to make him miserable that day.

The eight of them weaved their way through the mass of half-packed tents. Harry was pleased to see Malfoy and his cronies struggling to fold theirs, with no help from Snape like they’d had the night before since the man in question was sitting by the teachers’ tent, clutching a steaming tin mug and glowering at anyone who came within thirty feet of him. Harry was suddenly quite grateful for Hermione’s military-like precision when it came to packing.

They quickly arrived at the campsite exit, where Dumbledore and Professor Lupin were already waiting for them. 

“Ready for a second day?” Professor Lupin asked. Everyone in the group but Hermione glowered at him, and he chuckled.

“You just need to make it to Hogsmeade, now!” Dumbledore said bracingly. “Best of luck!” 

“Are we the first to leave?” Hermione asked eagerly.

Dumbledore glanced at his list and shook his head. “The Hufflepuff fourth-years were off five minutes ago, I believe.”

“We need to get going, then,” Hermione said briskly. “Goodbye, sir!”

She began to march off with the other Gryffindors quickly following her.

As they walked, Harry reflected that the weather was a lot less pleasant than it had been the day before. There had scarcely been a cloud in the sky, while now the entire landscape was obscured by a slight haze of fog. There was also a stiff breeze that seemed to pierce Harry’s very bones. 

After ten minutes of silent walking, Dean hummed. “I spy with my little eye… something beginning with ‘f’.”

“Fence?” Harry tried, seeing as there was nothing better to do.

“Nope.”

“Frog?” 

“No. Where would there even be a frog, Ron?”

“Fog?” 

“Parvati wins!” Dean said happily. “You next.”

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘g’...”

“Granite?”

“Why would I make it that complicated, Hermione?”

“Grass?” Neville tried.

“That’s it!”

“Seriously?" Seamus complained. “There’s grass everywhere, pick something obscure…”

After about half an hour of I spy, where most of the answers consisted of ‘grass’ or ‘trees’, Ron abruptly stopped walking and collapsed against the trunk of an oak.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ron,” Hermione scolded. “Get up.”

“Hermione, there is a blister the size of a golf ball on the bottom of my foot,” Ron said, glaring up at her. “If I don’t put something over it, my foot’s going to fall off or something.”

“Oh, come on!” she said impatiently. “We’ll be back at Hogwarts soon and it’ll be over! Get going!”

“Soon? We have a whole day of hiking, you seem to have forgotten!”

“Well now we’re going to get behind on that hiking day!”

“There is no behind, it’s not a race!” 

“Oh for the love of God, can you two just stop arguing!” Lavender snapped. “Merlin’s balls! You just go on, and on, and on, and if you don’t stop now I’m going to lose it! Ron, fix your foot, Hermione, lap the bloody field if you need to walk that badly!”

Hermione and Ron both shared an affronted look, like Lavender was the crazy one. Harry, for his part, was just relieved she’d torn them a new one before he’d had to. 

As Ron rummaged through the pocket of his bag, his eyes suddenly widened and he made a choked noise. “They did not!”

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked.

Ron pulled a large grey rock out of his bag. “The Slytherins snuck rocks into my bag!”

“No way!” Harry said angrily, taking his own bag off. He knew it had been heavier, but he’d thought he was imagining things! Surely enough, though, rocks had also been stuffed into every available nook and cranny of his own backpack. The other Gryffindors took off their bags and all pulled out rocks of their own.

“When did they even have time to do all of this?” Neville asked.

Seamus groaned. “When we went to the campsite toilets right before we set off and there was that massive queue. We left our bags behind, remember?”

Harry grimaced - he did remember. Malfoy and his cronies had been right next to their tents, they’d obviously swooped in when the moment was right.

“Oh, I’ll get them for this,” Hermione muttered, throwing the rocks out of her bag and away from her with more force than was strictly necessary. In fact, Harry was slightly concerned that she’d hit the cows standing at the far side of the field. Judging from Seamus’ face, though, that would be a welcome action. He still clearly wasn’t over the cow drama yesterday.

They’d just finished sorting out their bags when Harry heard a ringing laugh. He turned around and saw Malfoy himself, along with the rest of the third-year Slytherins. “Found our surprise, did you, Potter?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” he growled.

“I don’t think I will.” Crabbe and Goyle both stepped forward, cracking their knuckles. “I think my friends here easily outmatch you when it comes to muggle duelling, so why don’t we get started?”

“Just leave us alone!” Seamus shouted.

“Aww, can’t fight our own battles, Potter?” Pansy jeered.

“Oh, I can,” Harry spat, preparing to shed his backpack and really get some good hits on the two hulking boys while he could -

Hermione abruptly shoved him to one side. “He can fight his own battles,” she said frostily, “but he doesn’t need to.”

Without another moment's notice, she pushed Malfoy hard in the centre of his chest, sending him flailing backwards. Malfoy shrieked as he hit the ground with a loud splat. Several Slytherins groaned, and Harry abruptly realised why as Malfoy rolled to one side, his face white with fury - he’d fallen right into a massive cow pat.

“You - you -” Draco stammered.

“Come on,” Hermione said as Harry, Dean, Ron and Seamus howled with laughter. “Let’s get going.”

She set off at a brisk pace and Harry kept it up, not wanting to deal with a furious cow manure-covered Malfoy even though his laughter had left him breathless.

“Hermione, you’re brilliant!” Ron gasped, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Any animosity from earlier was long gone.

Hermione finally dropped her cool exterior and smiled a little. “I hadn’t planned it that way, but it did work out rather well, didn’t it?”

“Rather well?” Harry said. “I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. His face was priceless!”

“It was pretty wicked, Hermione,” Parvati added.

“Er - not to put a damper on things, but aren’t you a bit worried you’ll get in trouble?” Neville asked nervously.

“Oh, please,” she said dismissively. “He’s not going to admit he got shoved into a cow pat, is he?”

“Especially since it’s Hermione who shoved him,” Ron added.

“Besides, he did fill our backpacks with rocks,” Seamus pointed out. “He’d get in trouble, too.”

“Alright,” Neville said, looking a little less concerned.

“Say, Hermione, why did you push him, though?” Harry asked. She was normally quite the rule follower, after all.

A fearsome expression overcame her features. ”No one messes with the schedule.”

“Er - right.” Harry made a concentrated effort to pick up his pace after that. If Hermione wanted to be quick, then she deserved it after all that.

“I spy,” Ron began, “with my little eye… something beginning with ‘m’.”

“Manure?” Harry guessed.

“Close…”

“Malfoy covered in cow shit!” Seamus cried.

“Bang on!” Ron shouted, and they all fell about laughing once more. The novelty of that situation didn’t wear off for a while, and they only managed to get their giggling under control once a light drizzle started which quite literally dampened the mood. Despite the fact that he’d put his hood up rather quickly, Harry’s hair was still soaked after about forty-five minutes of that rain.

As they walked along, Harry realised something rather odd - their pace was slowing. The weirdest part of that was the fact that the stragglers consisted of Parvati and Hermione. Considering the fact that she was the entire driving force behind their brisk pace, that was certainly odd.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Hermione yawned. “Yeah, fine. Just a little tired, I suppose… well, I’ll get to rest at the checkpoint. We’re nearly there, I think -”

Neville suddenly yelped. He’d lost his footing again. Normally he was able to right himself, but unfortunately the rainfall had turned the slope they were walking down into a mudslide. Neville began to fall down, and somehow managed to knock down every single one of them in the process. Truly, Harry reflected as he rolled through the mud, it was actually rather impressive that he took all seven of them down with him.

At last, the slope evened out and Harry was able to slow his descent enough to regain his footing - not before he’d been covered head to toe in mud, of course. His companions were similarly worse for wear.

“Come on, Neville,” Harry sighed, trying to help his friends up. “Let’s get going -”

Neville gasped and his legs gave out from under him.

“You alright, mate?” Dean asked.

“No,” Neville whimpered. “My ankle. I’ve twisted it pretty badly, I can’t put weight on it -”

“Oh no!” Lavender said.

“What do we do, then?” Seamus asked, squeezing Neville’s shoulder.

“Call a teacher, I suppose,” Lavender said, pulling her hood further over her head. 

“We can’t - Snape’s on the line, remember?” Harry said. “Do you really want him dealing with an injured Neville?”

Neville flinched back at the sheer notion.

“Right, so we need to get him to the checkpoint ourselves,” Harry said. “It’s only like five minutes. Ron, d’you think you can help me carry him or did you hurt yourself falling down the hill?”

“No, I’m fine, just a little banged up,” he said.

“Sorry…” Neville whispered.

“Don’t apologise, it’s fine,” Harry said quickly. “Now, the rest of you, if you can somehow take it in turns carrying his backpack that would be helpful. Now, Hermione, I need you to… Hermione?”

As he’d turned to face her, Harry suddenly realised that Hermione and Parvati hadn't gotten up like the rest of them. Instead, they were lying in the mud with their eyes half-lidded.

“Hermione!” Harry shouted, shaking her by the shoulders. This was really starting to alarm him now.

“Huh, what?” she said blearily.

“Something’s wrong with you two!” 

“No, no, I’m fine,” she said slowly. “Just a little drowsy…ugh, I feel like my head’s been stuffed with cotton wool…”

“Well, that settles it,” Dean said decidedly. “We need to call someone. We can’t get them to the checkpoint in that state!”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Harry admitted reluctantly. “But I’m not telling Snape - one of you can.”

“I’ll do it,” Lavender volunteered, taking the walkie-talkie from Harry. “Hello? Whoever’s there, we need someone to come and help us.”

There was a brief pause, then a static-distorted sigh. “What is the matter, Miss Brown?”

All of them slumped in relief as Professor McGonagall’s voice travelled out of the device. She was certainly easier to deal with than Snape.

“Er, well, Neville fell down,” Lavender explained, “and he’s twisted his ankle pretty badly so we can’t get down the road to the checkpoint.”

“Again, Longbottom?” she asked exasperatedly. 

“Oh, and Hermione and Parvati have gone all weird and sleepy,” Harry added quickly.

“Have they been a little enthusiastic with the muggle hay fever medication, by any chance?” Professor McGonagall asked, her voice hardening.

“Er - they have, actually.” Harry gave Ron a puzzled look. “How did you know that?”

“You have not witnessed the things I have today, Mr Potter,” she said darkly. “Your friends are not the only ones who have made this ridiculous mistake. We’ll be along in the van soon, sit tight.”

“She’s been in a terrible mood this whole weekend,” Seamus remarked. 

“I’d be in a bad mood too if I had to spend my weekend following students around the countryside,” Lavender said.

“But she would have volunteered for this, right?” Ron said with a frown.

“It’s not like we volunteered, is it?” Dean pointed out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Dumbledore forced them along, too. I mean can you really imagine Snape doing this voluntarily?”

“Ooh, yeah,” Seamus said, wincing. “She definitely got dragged along here against her will.”

It wasn’t long before Harry heard an engine rumbling. He got up and poked his head out of the trees to look down the road, only to immediately jump backwards when a white van approached at far too high a speed, nearly careening into him. 

“Hello, Harry!” Dumbledore said cheerfully, rolling down his window. “We heard you’re in a spot of trouble?”

“Er - yeah…”

Harry heard the sound of a car door slam, and Professor McGonagall emerged from around the other side of the van. Her lips were pressed into a thin white line. “Show me where they are.”

Harry nodded and walked with her across the field to where the rest of his group were sitting. Her nostrils flared.

“We’ll drive you the rest of the way to the checkpoint so we can treat your injuries,” she said, glaring disapprovingly at their mud-stained clothing. “Come on, all of you into the van… Miss Granger, Miss Patil, there are instructions on those packets for a reason, you do realise!”

Professor McGonagall continued to scold the two of them as Ron and Harry helped Neville hobble into the back of the van. There were just enough seats for the eight of them. Before they set off, Professor McGonagall was very insistent about seatbelts. At first, Harry thought she was being ridiculous, but then the van actually set off and they got to experience Dumbledore’s driving for the first time and he suddenly understood with all too much clarity where Professor McGonagall was coming from. Harry gripped the edges of the seat as they careened back and forth at far too high a speed. It reminded him unpleasantly of his trip on the Knight Bus the previous summer, but at least that had safety charms on it that had prevented any injuries - he doubted this van had those…

They all were jerked to the right as Dumbledore veered abruptly off.

“For heaven’s sake, Albus, you nearly hit that cyclist!”

“Well I didn’t, Minerva, don’t fret…”

Dean, who was looking rather green, buried his face in his hands.

 Finally, the van slowed to a halt and Harry jumped out of it as fast as was physically possible. There were about three other groups at the checkpoint - they must have fallen behind the others over the course of the morning - including quite a few people with steam billowing from their ears.

“Granger, Patil, over to Professor Snape,” Professor McGonagall ordered. “He’ll give you some Pepper-Up for the drowsiness. Longbottom, Madam Hooch will take care of that ankle…”

“Professor,” Lavender said hesitantly, “what happened to doing all of this without magic?”

“And rob you all of the joy of hiking up a mountain in the pouring rain because they’re too drowsy to walk?” she asked, jerking her head towards Hermione and Parvati. “I think not.”

Harry suddenly got the unmistakable impression that this was her way of punishing them.

“I can’t believe so many people did what they did,” Seamus whispered, looking around at all of the people at the checkpoint who had also been dosed with Pepper-Up. There had to be a half-dozen. Professor McGonagall heard this comment and stared down Seamus. 

“Well, someone -” she glared pointedly at Professor Burbage, “- decided to give out extra-strength antihistamines. When they didn’t work as well as anticipated, apparently half of the student body decided to take them without any consideration for the proper process! I knew we shouldn’t have given those out so freely…”

“There are instructions on the packet!” Professor Burbage said defensively.

“Yes,” Professor McGonagall grumbled, “which apparently none of you know how to read… you’re free to leave when Miss Granger and Miss Patil stop smoking from the ears.”

Harry and the others all huddled together, unsuccessfully trying to hide from the rain under the thin canopy of trees while they ate. By now, the rain had strengthened into a steady downpour.

“Ugh, this is miserable,” Ron complained.

“Not long now, at least,” Dean muttered. “Just a few hours until we get up there…”

With their destination closer than ever, Harry and the others all felt slightly more motivated to get out of the checkpoint and get back to the school. Professor McGonagall progressively getting closer to losing her temper with the steady stream of muddy, injured students trailing by to see her was also a rather strong motivator to get out before the volcano exploded. 

“Your final checkpoint, as you know, is Hogsmeade village,” Professor Burbage said as they began to leave. “Professor Lupin will be waiting for you there!” 

She gave them a cheery smile that was far too bright for such a dreary day as they made their way out of the checkpoint.

Harry was thoroughly exhausted, as the rest of the group obviously were. The countryside had now also changed from rolling fields and patches of woodland to tall hills, which felt more like mountains as Harry huffed and puffed to get up them, loathing his heavy backpack with new vigour. All he could think of was Hogwarts - warm, dry Hogwarts, with its showers and actual mattresses and physical walls…

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘g’.”

“Parvati, if it’s grass again I will shove you off this hill!”

“Don’t you dare!” she said indignantly, putting a noticeable amount of space between her and Seamus. “And, as a matter of fact, it wasn’t.”

“Gold?” Lavender tried.

“No.”

“Goshawk?”

“No…”

Parvati, Harry quickly realised, was never going to tell them what the word had been - he was fairly certain it had actually been grass but she was refusing to admit that on principle - so he constituted to ignore the whole game as they struggled up the hill.

“We need to be careful around here,” Hermione reminded them. “We could accidentally end up in the Forbidden Forest if we go too far north.”

“How are we going to end up in the Forbidden Forest?” Ron asked exasperatedly.

“Well, Ron, it’s a distinct possibility -”

“No!” he said impatiently. “Look ahead, how are we going to miss Hogsmeade from here?”

Harry followed Ron’s gaze and realised that his friend was right - through the remaining mist from that morning, the houses of Hogsmeade village were just about visible, dotted all across the hill.

“Oh, finally!” Neville said, his shoulders sagging with relief. 

“Come on, everyone!” Hermione cried. “One last push!”

She started up her punishing pace again and started ploughing a determined path towards the distant village. Harry didn’t even bother to complain - he was in so much pain anyway, and it would get them there a lot quicker…

Finally, they made their way across the long stretch of hillside and found Professor Lupin sitting at a table, beaming at them.

“Well done!” he said happily.

“Oh, thank God,” Dean sighed, throwing his backpack from his shoulders and collapsing to the ground. Harry did the same, not even caring about the mud. He was so filthy anyway, it didn’t really matter…

“Where did we come?” Hermione demanded. “Are we the first group here?”

“No, sorry,” Professor Lupin said. He ran a finger down his list. “The Hufflepuff fourth-years just about outstripped you.”

“Oh, no!” Hermione said, her face falling.

“Cheer up, Hermione,” Harry said, rubbing her shoulder. “Think about all the stuff we had to deal with on our way! It’s a miracle we made it at all!”

“Harry’s right,” Professor Lupin added. “Finishing this is a great accomplishment.”

“I’m just glad we can finally rest,” Parvati sighed.

“A carriage will be along to take you all back up to the castle in a minute,” Professor Lupin promised. “So, did you all have fun?” All eight of them glared at him, and he laughed. “I suppose I should have known better than to ask that…”

“I feel like I’m dying,” Ron mumbled.

“Well,” Professor Lupin said, “no matter what you thought of the experience, I’m sure you all have some good stories to tell now!”

That, Harry reflected, was a fair point. Between the mad farmer, the cow chase and their fight with Malfoy, he thought he had enough funny stories to last him a lifetime. That, at least, was certainly worth it.