You realize that no matter which direction you take toward the wands, you'll be pinned. Sure, a wand would be helpful, but you didn't live eleven years and six summers as a Muggle for nothing – you think you can make it without one until the Bloodbath subsides. The question then remains....

You run for the shade of the forest, dodging a knee-reversing hex from Viktor Krum and nearly reversing your own knees as you trip over the huge, spongy, twisted roots of a tall tree standing sentinel over the dark expanse of the silent woods.

You look up into the branches and see no signs of predators.

You check over your shoulder to make sure that no one is coming. The only person watching you is Colin Creevey, but he's too small and too far away – and too easily overpowered – to be worth your worries now.

You take a deep breath and jump, clasping onto a branch. Your foot finds hold in a large, empty knot in the wood. Then there is a creaking sound louder than even the emptiest of staircases at Hogwarts in their quest to interrupt your nighttime trysts with the Weasley twins… and an enormous branch comes crashing down onto your head, knocking you from the trunk and pummeling you flat. The last thing you manage to think, as the long tendrils of leaves wind around your neck, is that you really should have recognized the Whomping Willow.