Harry Potter and Changing Destinies

Chapter 8

In the tent that night Harry, Hermione, and Ron set up some rules for their protection and sanity as Hermione made some soup on the stove within the magically enlarged tent. Some of the rules were: they switched who made meals by day; there would always be someone on guard at night which this included the night being split into three eight-hour shifts for each person, no one went anywhere without a wand, and things like that.

The next morning found Harry cooking with a smile instead of a “can I kill my family” grimace. As he was preparing the eggs he heard a sigh he’d known for 7 years. “Hermione’s up,” he thought with a smirk.

He listened unconsciously as he went about hours stuff and she hers. He listened as she threw the blankets off, sat on the side of the bed, slid her feet in her slippers, stood and put on her robe, and shuffled over to him rubbing her eyes. As he grabbed the hot coffee pot and a mug from down the counter as Hermione stood over the eggs and bacon smelling the aromas.

He handed her the coffee with the right amount of sugar and creamer she liked and the Daily Prophet that he had disguised himself and went out to buy with Hermione’s words from last night in his head, “Even if Death Eaters have taken over we need to know what’s going on. Even though they’ll make it look better than it is, we’ll know the truth.”

She took them both with a mumbled thanks and sat taking her first sip as she woke up. When Harry turned back he turned the stove off and told Hermione to grab some plates and he’d get the silverware.

He had just placed the silverware down when Hermione grumbled, “Harry I can’t get the plates.”

He turned to her to see her stretching her arm out standing on her tip toes just barely touching the plates.

“Why they put plates up so high I have no idea? Harry, help please,” Hermione sighed.

He shook his head and walked to her saying, “Here, let me see if I can get em.” Harry stood behind Hermione reaching up. He found he could reach them, but he felt himself losing balance so he grabbed the nearest thing, which ended up being Hermione’s hip. Her felt her stiffen so he whispered in her ear, “Sorry, lost balance.”

“That’s ok,” she stuttered and took the plate he handed her.

He got two more down and handed them to her. She turned around now standing facing him and smiled up at him. Just then they heard a grumble of, “Breakfast ready?”

Moments before, Ron’s point of view…

Ron was awoken when he smelled eggs and bacon being made, but didn’t want to get up yet. He could hear Harry moving around the kitchen section of tent and Hermione getting up. He heard someone mumble thanks he guessed it must be Hermione thanking Harry. As Harry asked Hermione to get the plates Ron began to get up. As he turned to watch his friends getting breakfast as he put on his slippers and robe, he was shocked dumb.

He had heard Hermione ask for help because she couldn’t get the plates and knew that’s all that was going on but seeing Harry’s hand on Hermione’s hip made all his logic go out of his head. He felt himself getting angry when he saw Harry whisper something to Hermione and her embarrassment. He found himself walking towards them as they finished whatever it was and Hermione turned to Harry with a smile. He had to say something before they began making out or hell shagging in front of him. He grumbled out, “Breakfast ready?”

Back to normal view…

Hermione and Harry looked at him with smiles and said, “Yeah sit down.”

So he did as Hermione set table for the three of them. As she sat across from Ron with her coffee and paper Harry dished the food out. Ron found himself grabbing a butterbeer out of the small fridge. When he turned back it was to find Harry and Hermione talking about something as Hermione got Harry his coffee.

“Man, they looked like a bloody couple in the morning after a shag, but that’s not right…Harry likes my sister and I like Hermione. Harry knows that he wouldn’t steal her and break Ginny’s heart. He’s Harry damn Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, Boy-Who-Lived, Golden Boy. He wouldn’t do that, he’s my mate,” Ron thought as he came back to the table.

As he sat he asked, “What you two chatting about?”

Harry answered, “Hermione was telling me about the real developments since the attack. Which makes me think we should move around a lot to places we know and places Dumbledore took me to look for the Horcruxes.

“That sounds like a good idea, Harry. Where and how often though?” Hermione asked as she began to eat.

As Harry and Hermione began getting to the details Ron ate his food and drank his butterbeer. Finally, Hermione turned to him asking, “What do you think, Ron?”

Ron swallowed some eggs and replied, “All sounds good to me. Hey, Harry there more?”

Harry smiled and waved to the pans, “Go for it.”

So, Ron did. When he sat down he grumbled, “So, what are the developments?”

Hermione went on to explain how the Death Eaters had taken over the Daily Prophet and the Ministry of course. Also it seemed Death Eaters were paying money for Harry to be brought in. the purebloods were trying to get muggleborns arrested for magic theft unless they could prove they had a witch or wizard in family history. It also appeared to Hermione who could get the real meaning from things better than Harry or Ron that Umbridge was on her half-breed discrimination rampage once again.

After everyone was done eating and had showered separately and gotten dressed they packed up and apparated to another place. This time they landed and set up in the forest that the Quidditch World Cup had been held. After they had gotten things set up Hermione brought out books and papers all with different thing written about Dark Magic, Horcruxes, and so on. Ron and Harry may not have liked reading huge books, but they also knew they needed all the help they could get. If they could find a way to fight the Unforgivable Curses or how to destroy the pieces of Voldemort’s soul in his Horcruxes they’d read anything.

Later that day as Ron made them sandwiches and got water for them to drink. Hermione pulled out a book that got Harry’s attention and he asked, “Hermione, why do you have that loon Rita Skeeter’s book? You know anything she wrote about Dumbledore’s crap.”

“Yes well its the same reason I told you to get the Daily Prophet. Plus her bias maybe evil, but most of her resources are good you just have to get rid of her bias and look within the context for the true meaning. He left me a fairytale book in his will. He left you the Gryffindor sword and sorting hat. He gave Ron his Deluminator. He may not have been easy to understand but he had reasons for doing what he did?” saying this Hermione left Harry and Ron to the other books and their thoughts.

This routine of breakfast, move around, look for information, night shifts went on for a few weeks. Until finally Harry apparated them to the outskirts of an old church in Ireland Hermione had told him about while Ron was at Quidditch practice in so much detail he could really see it as if he was there.

One day while Ron went out for a walk Harry and Hermione were reading when Hermione got up and took out a light radio and played some music. Harry didn’t notice this because Hermione had been doing this every once in a while to distract and relax them from the weight of everything they were working on. Though when a muggle song that he liked came on he looked up and said, “I thought muggle music didn’t play?”

“Ha ha, we may be in a magical tent, but this is a muggle radio. It’ll play, Harry,” she smirked.

“I like this song, how about you, Mione?” Harry asked.

“Chained To You by Savage Garden? Oh, yeah I love it.”

With this said she got Harry to dance with her while they began to get supper ready. When Ron they had supper and then Hermione say down beside Harry in a chair he had transfigured with Hermione’s help into a couch and worked on the books while listening to music before they all got ready for bed.

Later that night during Harry’s shift he felt this darkness, this weight he couldn’t shake. He had heard Hermione and Ron talking about it. They had said it wasn’t like Dementors, it was more like their skin was prickly, like it was itchy, like they couldn’t stay in one spot, like a wild animals before a storm. He had thought it nerves and stress, but now…now he was wondering. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and he woke Mione shortly to tell her he was going for a walk beyond the perimeter she setup that he had his wand and he’d be back soon and to not worry. She nodded sleepily and fell right back to sleep, but what he didn’t see as he left with his cloak and wand was Hermione sit up with stark fear in her eyes as what he said finally hit her fully.

Once outside the spells Harry threw on his cloak and took a deep breath of air feeling the weight, the stress just fall away if only for a few moments and he began to walk. After about twenty minutes Harry guessed he began to feel as someone or something was calling to him. He could almost hear the ghost voice saying his name, saying to go this or that way. Until finally he found himself in front of a huge oak tree.

He found himself staring straight into the black hold of a knot in the tree as if it was the heart of the old knarled, man-like reaching out to hurt someone tree. He felt drawn to it almost as if he needed to be there. As he was about to leave he saw something glint from within the knot. Harry reached in and pulled out what he thought never to find – a Horcrux, but not just any Horcrux. The Horcrux that led to Dumbledore’s body being weakened so badly, the one they had thought they’d found but only been met with a cheap copy which had been taken by Sirius’s brother. The Slytherin locket! He didn’t know how he knew it, but it was the real one. He could almost feel Voldemort standing near him as he held it.

There it was Slytherin’s locket, a piece of Voldemort’s soul in all its glory. It was as large as a chicken’s egg, a gold oval of a locket with an ornate letter S in laid with many small green stones. It looked pristine, brand new which frightened him as he remembered Kreacher’s tale of how Kreacher had tried everything he and R.A.B. knew to get rid of it.

Harry’s hand shook as he placed it in his pocket and turned back to the tent. Once inside the tent after his long walk back he sat down heavily on a chair not saying anything until Ron said, “What’s up, mate?”

Then he just simply replied, “I found the locket,” pulling it out mutely, like he was on autopilot. As Hermione stepped closer knowing just like Harry and even Ron could that this was it, Harry tried to open it by using Alohmora. He handed it over to Ron and Hermione who tried and got the same results, nothing.

Just then Ron asked in a hushed voice as he held it tight in his clenched fist, “Can you feel it thought?”

“What d’you mean?”

Ron passed the Horcrux to Harry. After a moment or two Harry thought he knew what Ron meant. Was it his own blood pulsing through his veins that he could feel or was it something beating inside the locket, like a tiny metal heart?

“What are we going to do with it?” Hermione asked.

“Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it,” Harry replied and little though he wanted to he hung the chain around his own neck dropping the locket out of sight beneath his robes where it rested against his chest beside the pouch Hagrid had given him.

As Harry took watch that night, the silence of the surroundings was only broken by the odd rustling or cracking of twigs Harry thought that they were caused by animals rather than people yet he kept his wand held tight, at the ready. His insides already uncomfortable due to their heavy breakfast, tingled with unease.

He had thought that he would feel elated if they managed to steal back the Horcrux but somehow he did not; all he felt as he sat looking out at the darkness, of which his wand lit only a tiny part was worry about what would happen next. It was as though he had been hurtling toward this point for weeks, months, maybe even years but now he had come to an abrupt halt, run out of road.

He had other Horcruxes to find meanwhile he was at a loss to know how to destroy the only one that they had found, the Horcrux that currently lay against the bare flesh of his chest. Curiously, it had not taken heat from his body, but lay so cold against his skin it might just have emerged from icy water. From time to time Harry thought or perhaps imagined, that he could feel the tiny heartbeat tickling irregularly alongside his own.

Nameless forebodings crept upon him as he sat there in the dark: He tried to resist them, push them away, yet they came at him relentlessly.

“Neither can live while the other survives.” Ron and Hermione, now talking softly behind him in the tent, could walk away if they wanted to: He could not. And it seemed to Harry as he sat there trying to master his own fear and exhaustion, that the Horcrux against his chest was ticking away the time he had left… “stupid idea”, he told himself, “don’t think that…”

His scar was starting to prickle again. He was afraid that he was making it happen by having these thoughts, and tried to direct them into another channel. The next thing he knew he was opening his eyes, panting his forehead throbbing to a scream of “Harry!”

He passed out against the side of the tent, had slid sideways down the canvas and was sprawled on the ground. He looked up at Hermione whose bushy hair obscured the tiny patch of sky visible through the dark branches high above them.

“Dream,” he said sitting up quickly and attempting to meet Hermione’s glower with a look of innocence. “Must’ve dozed off, sorry.”

“I know it was your scar! I can tell by the look on your face! You were looking into Vol…”

“Don’t say his name!” came Ron’s angry voice from the depths of the tent.

“Fine,” relented Hermione. “You-Know-Who’s mind, then!”

“I didn’t mean it to happen!” Harry said, “It was a dream! Can you control what you dream about, Hermione?”

“If you just learned to apply Occlumency…”

But Harry was not interested in being told off, he wanted to discuss what he had seen.

“He’s found Gregorovitch, Hermione, and I think he’s killed him, but before he killed him he read Gregorovitch’s mind and I saw…”

“I think I’d better take over the watch if you’re so tired you’re falling asleep,” said Hermione coldly.

“I can finish the watch!”

“No, you’re obviously exhausted! Go and lie down.”

She dropped down in the mouth of the tent, looking stubborn. Angry, but wishing to avoid a row, Harry ducked back inside. Ron’s still-pale face was poking out from the lower bunk; Harry climbed into the one above him, lay down and looked up at the dark canvas ceiling. After several moments Ron spoke in a voice so low that it wouldn’t carry to Hermione, huddled in the entrance.

“What’s You-Know-Who doing?”

Harry screwed up his eyes in the effort to remember every detail, then whispered into the darkness and replied, “You don’t want to know.”

Ron replied, “Come on Harry you want to share, share.”

“He found Gregorovitch. He had him tied up, he was torturing him. He wanted something from Gregorovitch. He asked him to hand it over, but Gregorovitch said it had been stolen from him…and then…then…” Harry said eyes still closed tight trying to gain all the information again.

“He read Gregorovitch’s mind and I saw this young bloke perched on a windowsill, and he fired a curse at Gregorovitch and jumped out of sight. He stole it, he stole whatever You-Know-Who’s after. And I…I think I’ve seen him somewhere…”

The theft had happened many years ago according to Gregorovitch. “Why did the young thief look familiar?” Harry thought.

Harry could still see the blond-haired youth’s face; it was merry, wild, there was a Fred and George-ish air of triumphant trickery about him. He had soared from the windowsill like a bird, and Harry had seen him before, but he could not think where…

Instead of Gregorovitch Harry’s thoughts dwelled on the merry-faced thief as Ron’s snores began to rumble from the lower bunk and as he himself drifted slowly into sleep once more.

Though later that night he woke again, but for another reason. His communication mirror was going off, “Ash!”

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes Harry replied, “What is it Ice? What’s wrong?”

Then Ali’s face came into focus as she replied hurriedly, “You have to come back, your show of magic earlier broke my wards and when we got Bri Draco apparated us right back into the house!”

Harry, “What!?!”

Ice replied, “You heard me.”

Harry gulped, “Ok, ok I’ll be back as soon as possible. Okay.”

Ice’s image raised an eyebrow and replied more kindly, “Ash is something wrong?”

Ash replied quietly, “Naw, everything’s fine.”

Ice, “You’re lying. What’s going on?”

Harry knew he wouldn’t win so began his story again slowly and lowered his voice so he wouldn’t disturb the others. He sat there for hours telling Ali what was going on and hearing how training with Bri was going. Apparently Bri and Draco had a bet going between them but Ali didn’t know what it was about. Draco seemed to be coming along and Bri said Ali was doing well, but said she needed more magic yet. Finally, Harry and Ali went to bed and their communication ended.

As Harry fell asleep he never noticed the tear stained face of his best friend Hermione watching him.

Back with Ali, Bri and Draco…

It had been a week or so since Bri had joined them at Ali’s and they had been working on simple spells both wandlessly and with help from Draco’s wand with Ali as well as training Draco in muggle versions of fighting with weapons and without them, but nothing big yet. It was a rainy, dreary day and it was only five in the morning when Draco found himself up and dressed in what Ali and Bri had called sweats and a workout T.

“His cousin he still couldn’t believe he had a cousin so young even younger than Tonks and from America no less,” he thought.

He was nearing the training room when he heard something being hit. He opened the door to find Bri punching and kicking the blood hell out of what she called a “punching bag”. The room looked different than it had before there were more objects in it than before. They could be moved around Bri and Ali had showed him but he didn’t know why they needed them. As he watched Bri do a backflip and kick the bag as she went she replied, “You going to watch or join in?”

Draco stood rooted, “How did she always know, must be apart of her training regime they hadn’t gotten to yet,” he thought.

He quickly walked over to the weapon’s chest that was more like a whole wall case and caught the staff, a basic wooden thing Bri threw his way. “They’d been training with these lately and Draco seemed to pick them up better than most weapons,” Bri noted to herself.

As they got into positions and began to spar Bri commented, “So when you going to tell her?”

Draco rolling to dodge a swing, “Tell who, what?”

Bri smirked, “Ali, you dick. When you going to tell her you love her and want to marry her?”

Draco gapped in shock as Bri ended her swing by his neck barely touching, “How? What! How’d you…?”

Bri smirked again helping Draco up giving him a “I know these things” kind of smirk and replied, “I’ll make a bet with you.”

“A bet? What kind?” Draco sounding interested.

“You beat all the levels of the simulation program we’re using, which by the way was created by an old school pal of mine. The girl that shows up when it starts. And I’ll…I’ll tell Harry that you love Ali and want to marry her for you, that’s if you win. But if I win, you grow some balls Malfoy and do it yourself.”

Draco gapped and just nodded. Before they could go on and continue to embarrass himself Draco changed the subject by saying, “You know we have to get that bind on Ali’s powers to break. She’s as powerful as Harry himself. We need that on our side,” as they began another sparring match, but with swords now.

Bri smiled with her “hehehee evil smile” on and said, “I know. We have to get her emotions high, that’s the only way.”

“But what emotion?”

“What emotion better than anger, my dear little dragon cousin,” Bri smiled coolly.

A few moments later Ali walked in ready it seemed to train. They all warmed up a bit and then began with weapons training after an hour or two. They moved on to Ali’s magic training…

Back with the Trio…

It had been another week and the Trio was back in England around London somewhere. Harry went after food supplies under the cloak because they were low, but came back empty handed and shaken. Once he had calmed down enough he explained to Hermione and Ron there had been a huge group of Dementors and he hadn’t been able to make a patronus at all.

As Ron threw a fit that he was hungry Hermione tried to comfort Harry who was still a bit shaken and figure out what happened. Finally, as Ron and Harry fought over who should go try get supplies Hermione clapped a hand to her forehead which startled both of them into silence with a, “Of course!” cry.

“Harry, give me the locket! Come on,” she said impatiently clicking her fingers at him when he did not react, “the Horcrux Harry you’re still wearing it!”

She held out her hands and Harry lifted the golden chain over his head. The moment it parted contact with Harry’s skin he felt free and oddly light. He had not even realized that he was clammy or that there was a heavy weight pressing on his stomach until both feelings lifted.

“Better?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah loads!”

“Harry,” she said crouching down in front of him and using the tone used for the very sick, “you don’t think you’ve been possessed do you?”

“What? No!” he said defensively. “I remember everything we’ve done while I’ve been wearing it. I wouldn’t know what I’d done if I were, would I? Ginny couldn’t?”

“Hmmm,” Hermione said while looking down at the heavy gold locket. “Well maybe we ought not to wear it. We can keep it here.”

“We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around,” Harry stated firmly.

“Oh alright, alright,” said Hermione as she placed it around her own neck and tucked it out of sight down the front of her shirt. “But we’ll take turns wearing it, so nobody keeps it on too long.”

Harry agreed mutely as Ron nodded still watching Hermione’s chest rise and all fall softly with each breath she took. He told himself it was because he could see the faint outline of the necklace there against Hermione’s chest and wanted to make sure the necklace wasn’t harming her in anyway it hadn’t with him. But as he watched and watched her until she passed it on to Ron he kept wondering why he was finding it harder and harder to come up with reasons other than he really liked Hermione to be watching her so closely.

This plan of passing it off every so often worked well it seemed. Though it seemed when Hermione wore the locket her temper was a bit shorter and her silences were dour. Plus she played feminist, tough chick, male-hating music a lot at these times loudly. Harry and Ron were becoming well educated in modern muggle women’s rock music through this experience of theirs. Thankfully others couldn’t hear the music but the boys could. Ron on the other hand seemed to get hot headed more often, make very rude comments, and complained about everything.

As they continued on with the hunt for weeks they discussed many places to look. Harry told them places Dumbledore had told him were important to Tom. The basis that formed their speculations were the orphanage that he had lived in, Hogwarts, Borgin and Burkes, and Albania. They argued over this a lot until they finally decided to look into the orphanage idea. Every twelve hours or so they passed the Horcrux between them as though they were playing some perverse, slow-motion game of pass-the-parcel, where they dreaded the music stopping because the reward was twelve hours of increased fear and anxiety.

Harry’s scar kept prickling. It happened most often he noticed when he was wearing the locket. Sometimes he couldn’t stop himself reacting to the pain. Ron would always ask what he’d seen Harry knowing he hoped to learn something of his family, the Order, whatever but he always disappointed Ron by saying he only kept seeing the face of the thief.

As time went on Harry began to think Hermione and Ron talked about him when he wasn’t around because they got real quiet when he came in. Probably wondering if the hunt was worth it which he wondered himself too sometimes. When they were about to give up hope it came to them in the form of a quick letter written to Harry delivered by a disguised Hedwig from Griphook saying Griphook was travelling with a friend of theirs from the school, an Order members’ father, another goblin, and another all because wizarding people were taking over the bank but not to worry they couldn’t touch Harry’s vaults and as the friend who called himself Dean Thomas said he was muggle-born possibly he didn’t know and he had been apart of a group of students that attacked the new Headmaster Snape to get the Gryffindor Sword. Which Griphook wanted to inform Harry that the one at the school was a fake. The kids were apparently punished, but Griphook didn’t know how bad.

When Harry informed Ron and Hermione of this he got mixed reactions which he himself was feeling: pride, fear, worry, etc. Just then Hermione grabbed a picture she had hidden in her handbag which was no other than Phineas Nigellus which she and Harry questioned over what happened at Hogwarts. They learned what happened to Ginny, Neville, and Luna. Plus they learned some things about the sword too.

“Muggleborns,” Phineas said. “Goblin-made armor does not require cleaning, simple girl. Goblins’ silver repels mundane dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it.”

“Don’t call Hermione simple,” Harry said.

When Phineas began to leave his portrait to go back to the Headmaster’s office Hermione and Harry asked him to bring Dumbledore which he explained he couldn’t. So, Harry asked when the last time he saw the sword taken out of its case and he replied when Dumbledore had used it on a ring.

This lead Hermione to whip around to look at Harry. Neither dared to speak in front of Phineas until he found the exit to his portrait. Leaving them with nothing but a murky backdrop to look at.

“Harry!” Hermione cried.

“I know!” he shouted, unable to contain himself he punched the air. It was more than he had dared to hope for. He strode up and down the tent, feeling like he could run a mile. After Hermione put the portrait back she raised a shining face to Harry.

“The sword can destroy Horcruxes! Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthens them – Harry that sword’s impregnated with basilisk venom!”

“And Dumbledore didn’t give it to me because he still needed it, he wanted to use it on the locket, damn this is fucktastic!”

“ – and he must have realized they wouldn’t let you have it if he put it in his will…”

“…so he made a copy damn this is great!”

“ – and he left the real one – where?”

They gazed at each other; Harry felt the answer was dangling above them, so close.

“Think!” Hermione whispered, “Think! Where would he have left it?”

“Not at Hogwarts,” resuming his pacing Harry stated.

“Somewhere in Hogsmeade?”

“The Shrieking Shack?”

“But Snape knows how to get in.”

“Dumbledore trusted him.”

“Not enough to tell him he swapped swords.”

“So, would he have hidden the sword well away from Hogsmeade, then? What’d you reckon Ron? Ron?”

Harry looked around for one bewildered moment he thought that Ron had left the tent, then realized that Ron was lying in the shadow of a lower bunk, looking stony.

“Oh remembered me, have you?” he said.

“What?”

~Song: Passive by Perfect Circle ~

Ron snorted as he stared up at the underside of the top bunk.

“You two carry on. Don’t let me spoil your fun.”

Perplexed, Harry looked to Hermione for help but she just shook her head saying she didn’t know what was up.

“What’s the problem?” asked Harry.

“Problem? There’s no problem?” said Ron still refusing to look at Harry, “Not according to you anyway.”

It had begun to rain as Ron went on.

“Well you’ve obviously got one,” Harry said, “spit it out will you?”

Ron swung his long legs off the bed and stood. He looked mean, not himself.

“Alright I’ll spit it out. Don’t expect me to skip up and down the tent because there’s some other damn thing we’ve got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don’t know.”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!?!” Harry repeated. The rain was beginning to fall heavier, harder as this went on and on.

“It’s not like I’m not having the time of my life here,” said Ron, “you know with my arm hurt from our last move and nothing much to eat anymore and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, after we’d been running around a few weeks we’d have achieved something.”

“Ron,” Hermione said in a quiet voice that could be barely heard.

“I thought you knew what you signed up for,” Harry asked.

“Yeah I thought I did too.”

“So what part of it isn’t living up,” anger coming to Harry’s defense.

“We thought you knew what you were doing!” shouted Ron. His next words pierced like scalding knives because they hit on what Harry’s own mind had been haunting him about, “We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!”

“Well sorry to let you down,” Harry said his voice calm even though he felt inadequate, “I’ve been straight with you from the start, we’ve found one - .”

“Yeah and we’re about as near getting rid of the damn thing as we are to finding the rest of the fucking things – nowhere fucking near in other words!”

“Take off the locket Ron. Please take it off. You wouldn’t be talking this way if you hadn’t been wearing it all day,” Hermione said her voice unusually high.

“Yeah he would. D’you think I haven’t notice the two of you whispering behind my back? D’you think I didn’t know you were thinking this,” Harry went on not wanting to hear excuses.

“Harry we weren’t…”

“Don’t lie! You said it too. You said you were disappointed! You said you had thought he had a bit more to go on.”

The rain was pounding, tears were flowing down Hermione’s face and the excitement from before was gone. Replaced by anger. ~Song ends~.

~Song: What Have You Done by Within Temptation starts~

“So why are you still here?” Harry asked Ron.

“Search me.”

“Go the fuck home then!”

“Yeah maybe I will!” shouted Ron as he took a few steps toward Harry who didn’t move at all.

“Didn’t you hear what they said about my sister? But you don’t give a shit do you, its only the Forbidden Forest. Harry ‘I’ve-Faced-Worse’ Potter doesn’t care what happens…”

“I was only saying, she was with the others they were with Hagrid.”

“Yeah I get it you don’t care! And what about the rest of my family!”

“Yeah I…”

“Not bothered though.”

“Ron!” said Hermione forcing her way between them.

“I don’t think it means anything new has happened, anything we don’t know about; think Ron, Bill’s already scarred plenty of people must have seen that George has lost an ear by now and you’re supposed to be on your sick bed. I’m sure that’s all he meant…”

“Oh you’re sure are you? Right then well I won’t bother myself about them. It’s all right for you two isn’t it with your parents safely out of the way…”

“My parents are dead!” Harry bellowed.

“And mine could be going the same way!” yelled Ron.

“Then GO!” roared Harry.

“Go back to them, pretend you’ve gotten over your sickness and Mummy’ll be able to feed you up and…”

Ron made a sudden movement: Harry reacted but before either wand was clear of its owner’s pocket Hermione had raised her own.

“Protego!” she cried, an invisible shield expanded between her and Harry on the one side and Ron on the other all of them were forced backwards by the strength of the spell and Harry and Ron glared from either side of the transparent barrier as though they were seeing each other clearly for the first time. Harry felt a corrosive hatred towards Ron: something had broken between them.

“Leave the Horcrux,” Harry said as calmly as he could while his blood boiled beneath his skin.

Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a near by chair. He turned to Hermione.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you staying or what?”

“I…,” she looked anguished, “Yes…yes I’m staying Ron. We said we’d go with Harry. We said we’d help.”

“I get it. You choose him.”

“Ron no…please…come back, come back!”

She ended her own shield but by the time it was gone he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite sill and silent listening to her sobbing and calling Ron’s name among the trees. After a few minutes she returned her sopping hair plastered to her face.

“He’s gon – gon- gone! Disapparated.”

She threw herself into the enlarged chair, curled up and started to cry. Harry felt dazed. He picked up the Horcrux and placed it around his own neck. He dragged blankets off the bun and threw them over Hermione. Then he climbed in beside her, lifting her just enough so he could fully wrap the blankets around her sobbing and probably freezing form, and held on to her as she cried on his shoulder and chest. As he fell apart within, he let Hermione fall apart on him hoping he could catch all the pieces of both of them and put them back together one day. ~Song ends~.