#( &&. reed x hermione ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlestarabove · 1 year ago

Text

One Master of Death

➼ pairing: Harry Potter x reader

➼ summary: This drabble illustrates your years with Harry and his friends all leading up to the present… and what a dark present it is.

➼ word count: 13.9k (this is too long to be considered a drabble… oops)

➼ what to expect: “I would say something witty… but my mind is blank.”

➼ additional warnings: angst, character death, deathly hallows part 1 spoilers, almost graphic injuries (if you squint, i don’t like blood either)

➼ talk to my characters!

➼ IF YOU HAVE SEEN THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE, it was posted to a different blog, also owned by ME, so it's still my original work

You never thought it would come to this.

Things didn’t turn out the way you expected them to, and certainly didn’t fall in line with your previous years at Hogwarts had gone.

All your life, being a witch had been a dream. Magic was absolutely fascinating to you. When you received your invitation to join Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you weren’t shocked, scared, or even nervous. You were ecstatic. You’d always known there was magical presence within your life, though your Muggle parents always chalked it up to your over-active imagination. You couldn’t find any other way to explain the strange occurrences when you were sad, angry, scared, or even happy. Objects levitated, valuables shattered, and other unexplainable things happened with your emotions that not even the best doctors could understand.

You could finally tell your family “I told you so,” when your letter came in the mail- well, rather by screech owl. Next thing you knew, after converting all of your allowance to galleons, you were on your way to Diagon Alley.

Now, this place was your dream. Every where you looked, magic inhabited every nook and cranny. You didn’t even know where to start. Of course, you had your list of school supplies, but you weren’t paying it any mind as your head ran ramped with thoughts about where to begin. You hadn’t even arrived at Hogwarts and you were planning out the next seven years of your academic career with extreme detail.

You were wandering aimlessly when you saw her- through the musty window The Magical Menagerie inside of a golden cage- your future companion and confidant. She was the most majestic creature you’d ever seen, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be yours.

You walked out of The Magical Menagerie with your very own screech owl, who you later decided to call Maggie. There was no particular reasoning as to why you picked that name- it just seemed fitting.

Your wand ceremony was probably something you would remember for the remainder of your life. It was one of the most magical and ethereal events you’d experienced in your entire life. The wand that settled on you was made of reed wood, 15 inches long, with a core of dragon heartstring. Mr. Ollivander specified that you were destined for a dramatic, adventured-filled life, but also warned you of the dangers that lied ahead of you.

Whatever that meant. You didn’t take him seriously. You were 11.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You want to say you met Hermione Granger due to the fact that you’re both amazing people adept with social skills and the ability to integrate with other witches and wizards, but that would be a big, fat lie.

You met her when you both stayed in the library after hours, which resulted in the two of you being locked in for the night until someone came to open it up in the early hours of the morning.

Which wasn’t for a long time.

It was your second year at Hogwarts, and this mistake was understandable… for a first year. Had you been 11, you wouldn’t have been so hard on yourself. But, no, you were at the grand age of 12 years old, you should know better.

That’s what your tween brain thought, at least. You used to look back on this memory with Hermione and laugh.

Speak of the devil, this is how you got to know the brilliant witch, through forced socialization behind the locked doors of the dimly lit library.

“Guess we’re stuck here, huh?” you were the first to speak. Hermione looked up at you and nodded.

“Guess we are.” She pouted.

“I’m Y/N L/N.” You stuck your hand out for Hermione to shake, which she did, politely.

“I’m Hermione Granger.” She smiled brightly, to which you returned.

“So… how did you end up in here past closing?” you asked cautiously.

“I simply lost track of time, I was looking for something.” Hermione explained vaguely, the both of you seated hopelessly in front of the doors to the exit. You sighed deeply.

“I fell asleep on my book.” you admitted. Hermione giggled, which pulled a laugh of your own through your throat.

“The boys are never going to let me live this one down.” Hermione sighed with a hopeless grin. You tilted your head at her.

“The boys?” you questioned curiously. Hermione smiled sheepishly. “My friends, Harry and Ron. They’re going to tease me about this endlessly.” Hermione chuckled.

“Harry? As in, Harry Potter?” you questioned, to which Hermione confirmed with a nod. “I’ve seen him around, but never here.”

Hermione snorted and shook her head. “That’s because I don’t think they’ve ever set foot in the library.” she snickered.

“That’s a shame, I love it in here. It’s where I belong.” You joked, beaming.

“I practically live in here, how come I’ve never seen you before?” Hermione inquired with confusion. Your cheeks turned a dull shade of red as you ducked your head.

“I sit near the back, it’s quieter back there.” You explained nervously.

“Ah, that would be why. I sit near the front.” Hermione giggled.

Next thing you knew, the two of you were chatting and sharing life stories while playing with the cards with a pack that you had buried in one of your robe pockets.

“What are you actually doing stuck here, Hermione?” you raised an eyebrow as you adjusted your hand of cards. Hermione sighed in defeat.

“I guess I could tell you. I’m looking for a recipe for polyjuice potion.” she admitted as she scanned her remaining cards.

“Wow, that’s quite complicated, I hear. I’m impressed. What do you need it for?”

“We’re trying to figure out who the heir of Slytherin is, and we need the potion to sneak into their common room undetected.” Hermione explained thoroughly.

“Oh, that rumor with the horrid message written in blood on the wall? I thought it was all an elaborate prank, but then the professors began to worry, so I knew it was serious.” You clarified with a grimace.

“We think it’s Malfoy.” Hermione announced. You snorted. “Doesn’t everyone? Malfoy is the perfect git to be the heir to a Muggle hating wizard.” you grumbled.

Hermione laughed. “Ron and Harry would like you, you’re funny and you hate Malfoy. That’s two things they look for in a person.” Hermione joked with a hint of seriousness.

“I think I would like them as well.” you smiled with a polite undertone.

Hermione looked at her cards and groaned. “I fold.” She placed her cards face down. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought we were playing go-fish?”

The two of you burst into a fit a laughter. That was the night that began a lasting friendship between two extraordinary witches.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ Hermione determinedly strode towards the library with Ron and Harry in tow.

“Hermione, why are we in such a rush?” Ron whined as he struggled to keep up with her fast pace. Hermione huffed.

“I’ve got a friend keeping the book we need safe. We’re already late meeting her there.” Hermione explained in exasperation.

The trio burst through the doors to the library and Hermione began to scan the crowd when she remembered something important.

“She sits near the back, come on.” Hermione waved urgently as she began her path to the back of the library.

She peeked into every row with the hope of finding you sitting alone with the book you’d promised to find in your free time. Much to Hermione’s surprise, you weren’t as close to the back as she had originally thought. She found you in no time.

“There you are! I was beginning to worry.” You noticed them as they came barreling down towards you, all with heavy breathing.

“Sorry. Lost track of time.” Hermione apologized. You shook your head.

“No worries. I’ve got the book here.” You shook the book in your hand to indicate your findings.

Harry and Ron stood utterly confused behind Hermione as she took a seat without hesitation.

“Who are you?” Ron asked quite bluntly. Hermione groaned.

“Must you be so direct?” Hermione gestured to you. “Harry, Ron, this is Y/N. Y/N, this Harry, and that’s Ron.” Hermione pointed to each boy respectively. You beamed widely at them.

“Pleasure to meet you both.” neither of them replied, only stared at you.

“Warm welcome.” you chuckled awkwardly. Hermione noticed your distress and hurried to confront the boys.

“Be polite. She’s helping us.” Hermione gestured violently for them to sit. They both did as they were told.

You tried your best to ignore the fact that Hermione might as well have promised that you would be well-liked by her friends. You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously as you presented Hermione with the book you’d promised her.

In the dark nook, you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled around the book entitled “Moste Potente Potions.” The spotted pages were littered with disturbing illustrations.

You flipped to your book mark and dragged your finger under the sub title.

“Here it is: ’The Polyjuice Potion. Properly brewed, the Polyjuice Potion allows the drinker to transform himself temporarily into the physical form of another’…” You read directly from the text, trailing off as you reached the end of the important information.

“You mean, Harry and I drink some of this stuff and we turn into Crabbe and Goyle?” Ron leaned forward to clarify his suspicions.

“Yes.” Hermione assured. Ron beamed widely.

“Wicked! Malfoy’ll tell us anything!” Ron exclaimed excitedly.

“Exactly. But, it’s tricky. I’ve never seen a more complicated potion. Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed. And, of course, we’ll need a bit of whoever we want to change into too.” Hermione worried her bottom lip as she read over the ingredients for the overly complicated and advanced potion.

“Hang on now. I’m drinking nothing with Crabbe’s toenails in it.” Ron grumbled with a grimace.

“How long will it take to make?” Harry leaned forward over Ron’s shoulder to take a more intricate peek at the instructions.

“It looks like a month.” you scanned over the pages carefully.

“A month? But if Malfoy is the heir of Slytherin… he could attack half the Muggle-borns in the school by then.” Harry cautioned. Hermione shivered.

“As if people like us need more reason to be targeted by Malfoy.” You placed your chin in the palm of your hand with a pout.

Hermione beamed. “You’re a Muggle-born as well? I knew we were going to be great friends.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Harry and Ron made their exit from their library as you and Hermione remained seated to further study the potion to better learn the ins and outs.

Ron pulled Harry aside with a worried expression. “I don’t think Y/N being in our group is a good idea. We do not need another Hermione to nag us about every little thing.” Ron was practically livid. Harry shrugged.

“I dunno. I think it would be nice to have another girl around. Someone�� to keep Hermione occupied.” Harry’s lie wasn’t the most clever, but he figured it was enough to throw Ron off his scent. Quite frankly, the prospect of having another girl join their group made Harry quite flustered, especially due to the fact that you’re probably one of the prettiest 12-year-olds he’d ever seen. But, of course, it didn’t take much to convince Ron otherwise.

“You’re right. That would be a big weight off our own shoulders.” Ron agreed. Harry smiled in spite of his lie.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Third Year

Silence. A room of shadows. While those around him slumbered, Harry lied awake, unable to sleep. Finally, he turned to his cupboard, took out the Marauder’s Map, and whispered,

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The crooked corridors and serpentine passageways of Hogwarts radiated across the parchment, then… a tiny dot caught Harry’s eye. He frowned. It read: “Peter Pettigrew.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Harry moved down a dark corridor, map in hand, wand aglow. In the paintings he passed, the subjects snored softly.

Harry’s and Peter’s figures on the map drew closer and closer.

Harry squinted toward the end of the corridor. Down at the map. Pettigrew moved quickly down the adjoining corridor. Twenty yards away. Ten. Only seconds away…

Wand trembling in his hand, Harry glanced from the map to the dark corridor ahead, again and again. Then… as the two dots were about to collide… he looked slowly up, turned the corner, heart in his chest… and met-

You?

“Oh! Harry!” You exclaim as you nearly rammed right into Harry.

Harry blinked, startled, then glanced down at the map. Pettigrew had moved past him, but your figure stood adjacent to his. Odd, how hadn’t he noticed that before?

“Y/N. What are you doing down here?” Harry raised an eyebrow in question. You were quick to explain yourself.

“Hermione wanted to conduct some research on werewolves… can’t imagine why… but she mentioned something about it being far too late for her, so I went instead.” You gestured to all the rolls of parchment in your arms- your diligent notes.

“I was just on my way back… hold on, what are you doing up at this hour, Harry?” you redirected the conversation onto Harry. He froze.

“Um… well…” Harry glanced down at the map, flustered, and back up to you.

“Is that the Marauder’s Map? The Weasley twins mentioned that they gave it to you.” You pointed at the map in curiosity. Harry’s expression turned confused, but, yet again, you were quick to clarify.

“I was helping them set up a prank… they needed to know the precise angle a… certain bucket had to be placed at on the top of a… certain professor’s door.” you grinned sheepishly rocking on your heels. Harry smiled softly.

“I was just… looking for someone. I think the map is mistaken… says Peter Pettigrew is heading… that way.” Harry pointed in the direction he’d come from. You follow his finger.

“Pettigrew? Hermione mentioned he was dead.” You shrugged. Harry mimicked your actions.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s follow it.” you gestured in the direction that Harry had pointed to. Confused but excited, Harry turns on his heel to follow you, casting his wand along the walls.

“Watch it there, boy!”

You and Harry jumped. But it was only an old man in a painting, scowling in the glare of Harry’s wand light. On the map, Pettigrew continued to move away. Harry made to follow, with you in tow, then stopped, hearing footsteps. The wand’s spot danced across the parchment, and found another dot. Approaching fast: Severus Snape.

“Put it away!” You hissed urgently. Harry fumbled to put the tip of his wand on the map. “Mischief managed!” He stashed the map away, extinguishing his wand, and turned… into the harsh glare of Snape’s wand.

“Potter.” Snape sneered. Snape moved his wand slightly to the left and illuminated you, grinning sheepishly.

“L/N.” He grumbled.

“What’re you two doing wandering the corridors at night?” Snape questioned.

“We were… we were sleepwalking…”

A sneer curdled the corner of Snape’s lips.

“How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter. He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting about the castle-”

“My dad didn’t strut. Nor do I. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate you lowering your wand.” Harry straightened and nodded towards Snape’s wand, aimed directly to his face and nearly blinding him.

Snape eyed Harry coldly, containing himself. He lowered his wand.

“Turn out… your pockets, the both of you.” Snape demanded.

You nor Harry moved, Harry’s eyes still boring into Snape.

“Turn out your pockets!”

Finally, the both of you obliged. You turned up with nothing but your scrolls. But, seeing the map, Snape’s eyes glittered.

“And this. What might it be?” He asked.

“Spare bit of parchment…” You came up with hastily. Your mind worked quickly when it came to confrontation, it was one of your skills.

“Really…” Snape poised his wand over the map. “Reveal your secrets!”

To both of your horror, words began to appear. Snape studied you both, a sadistic half-smile on his lips. He turned the map your way.

“Read it.” Snape ordered.

“Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs… offer their compliments to Professor Snape… and…” Harry glanced up at professor Snape after reading the rest, unsure.

“Go on.” Snape urged. You leaned over Harry’s shoulder and snorted.

“And request that he keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.” You snickered, your eyes locked with Snape’s.

Snape’s smile drooped. “Why you insolent little-”

“Professor?”

Snape turned to see Professor Lupin standing in the shadows.

“Well, well. Lupin. Out for a little walk in the moonlight, are we?” Snape sneered.

“Harry? Y/N? You all right?”

“That remains to be seen. I’ve just now confiscated a rather curious artifact from Mr. Potter and Miss L/N. Take a look, Lupin. This is supposed to be your area of expertise.” Snape snatched the parchment from Harry’s grip and presented it to Lupin. Lupin took the parchment, which now displayed a rather unflattering caricature of Snape and a pair of potions.

“Clearly, it’s full of dark magic.” Snape continued.

“I seriously doubt that, Severus. it looks to me as if it merely insults anyone who tries to read it. It suspect it’s a Zonko product. Nevertheless, I shall pursue any hidden qualities it may possess. As you say, it’s my area of expertise. Come, Harry, Y/N.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The two of you walked aside a fuming Lupin, who gripped the map fiercely.

“I don’t know how this map came to be in your possessions, Harry, Y/N, but I’m astounded that you didn’t turn it in immediately. Especially you, Miss L/N. For all that time you spend with Granger, I would have expected her behavior to rub off on you in some way.” Lupin fumed. You hung your head. Lupin directed his next comment to Harry.

“Harry, did you ever stop to think that this- in the hands of Sirius Black- is a map to-”

Lupin stops when he realizes that he and Harry were not alone, and stops himself from going any further. Harry waved his hands in defense. “Don’t worry, Professor… she knows… about Sirius.” Harry was referring to the information Hermione had entrusted you with recently- About Harry’s relation to Sirius and the plot against him.

You nodded in confirmation. Lupin sighed with an expression of relief.

“A map to you?” he finished. Harry walked alongside silently, you hot on his heels. Lupin could barely contain his anger.

“Your father didn’t set much store by rules either. But he and your mother did give their lives to save yours. Gambling their sacrifice by walking about the castle unprotected, with a killer on the loose, strikes me as a poor way to repay them. I won’t cover for you again, Harry.”

Lupin entered his office, tossed the map on his desk, and began to sort through some papers. You and Harry lingered briefly in the doorway. You absently eyed the waxing moon that glimmered beyond the window, then stared to turn away.

“Professor. Just so you know, I don’t think the map always works. Earlier, it showed someone in the castle. Someone I know to be dead.” You directed your attention to Lupin, away from the moon.

“And who was that, Y/N?” He was only half-listening.

“Peter Pettigrew.” Harry finished.

Lupin hesitated ever-so-slightly, then returned to his papers.

“Very well. I’d like you to return to your dormitories now. Oh, and don’t take any detours.”

As you and Harry looked back, Lupin tapped the map. “If you do, I’ll know.” Lupin smirked slightly.

You and Harry rounded the corner and set on the path back to the Gryffindor common room.

The moment you’re out of sight of Lupin’s office, your burst into a fit of giggles, catching Harry by surprise.

“That was amazing. When you spend all of your time with Hermione, you never almost get caught like that! Oh, it was exhilarating.” you sighed happily, turning to Harry.

“I… never would have thought that you liked things of the sort.” Harry nervously scratched the nape of his neck as the two of you neared the common room.

“There’s a lot you’ll have to learn about me, Harry. I’ll see you later?” You murmured the password to the common room and stepped inside, Harry not far behind. You moved to disappear up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories when Harry stopped you.

“Have breakfast with us tomorrow.” he blurted. It was enough to stop you in your tracks and to make you turn to face him.

“Hm. I suppose I could. I’ll see you there, Potter.” you disappeared around the staircase.

Harry smiled to himself, his heart pitter-pattering in his chest as he stared off in the direction you disappeared in.

Oh dear, was he in trouble now.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Fourth Year

It was almost as if your fourth year (so far) had gone by in a blur. You arrived at school, got a new, suspiciously shady professor, and all of a sudden, Harry as a contestant in the infamous Triwizard Tournament. You were worried because of what the tournament was infamous for- severe injury and competition to the death.

You, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were sat in the Great Hall, scowling at the latest addition of the Daily Prophet. Hermione had been made out to look like she was after two famous wizards- Viktor Krum and Harry. She was livid, but you all managed to distract her for a limited period of time.

“Parcel for you, Mr. Weasley.” a small boy approached the table and presented Ron with a particularly large parcel.

“Ah, thank you, Nigel.”

The boy stared in jittery awe at Harry.

“Not now, Nigel.” Ron urged Nigel off.

As Nigel stumbled off, you, Harry, and Hermione eyed Ron. He shrugged.

“I told him I’d get him Harry’s autograph. Hey look. Mum’s sent me something… Mum’s sent me a dress.”

Harry watched Ron lift a lace-trimmed gown from the box.

“Does match your eyes. Is there a bonnet? Ah- hah!” Harry pulled a matching little collar from the box and tossed it at Ron. You giggled from beside Harry, not-so-subtly drinking a sip of pumpkin juice to hide it.

“Nose down, Harry.” Ron grumbled. He moved to Ginny hopefully. “Hey, Ginny. This must be for you.”

Ginny grimaced at the manky old thing. “I’m not wearing that. It’s ghastly.” She gasped as she laid eyes on it.

Hermione, back of her hand pressed to her mouth, suppressed a laugh.

“What are you on about?” Ron grumbled.

“They’re not for Ginny. They’re for you. Dress robes.” Hermione clarified with a smile.

“Dress robes? For what?” Ron panicked.

Professor McGonagall seemed to appear out of no where, making herself known by answering Ron’s question. “The Yule Ball. Which, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to you about, Potter.”

Harry nodded as he let McGonagall pull him off to the side to speak to him privately.

“The Yule Ball, Professor?” Harry questioned as they were out of earshot from his friends.

“It’s traditional during the Triwizard Tournament for the host school to put on a Christmas ball. It is also traditional for the three Champions- or in this case four- to be the first to dance.”

Harry cocked his head, as if he had water in his ear.

“Dance? With a girl?” His voice shook slightly with the question.

“Traditionally with a young lady, yes. Why don’t you take…” McGonagall searched the area where Harry’s friends sat for a suitable date. Her eyes settled on you and she smiled.

“Miss L/N? You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with her, recently. And she’s a lovely girl. A lot like your friend, Miss Granger.” McGonagall beamed as she gestured to you.

Harry followed her line of sight as his eyes settled on you as well. You sat in your seat quietly, sipping absentmindedly on your goblet of pumpkin juice as you watch Hermione and Ron converse heatedly about the condition of his ancient dress robes.

You open your mouth and make some kind of remark, which Harry can’t hear, but it caused Hermione to laugh whole-heartedly, which Ron soon joined in reluctantly, and even Ginny snickered to herself.

Harry beamed unconsciously. “She is lovely, isn’t she?” He sighed. McGonagall’s smile widened but Harry quickly caught himself.

“Oh, um, I mean, I could… ask Y/N. As friends, of course.” He added hastily. McGonagall’s smile slightly faltered but she continued nonetheless.

“I leave that decision up to you, Potter. But know this: the House of Godric Gryffindor has a reputation as long as it is illustrious. It demands and receives the respect of the entire wizard world. No house has produced more witches and wizards of consequence. You stand upon the shoulders of giants, Potter. Shame yourself and you shame all who came before you.”

Just then, a commotion was heard. Turning, McGonagall watched Seamus pelt Dean Thomas with a custard pie.

McGonagall’s face dropped.

So much for honoring the house of Gryffindor.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The entire rank and file of Godric Gryffindor’s current roster- girls on one side, boys on the other, stood before a fierce McGonagall in what you could only conclude as some sort of dance class.

“You have to get a grip! Your behavior barely rises to the level of the common toadstool! I WILL NOT HAVE IT!”

The students exchanged nervous glances.

“Now. To dance is to let the body…” McGonagall took a deep breath as demonstration, “… breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst free and take flight. Inside each boy, a lordly lion, prepared to prance.” McGonagall illustrated.

“Something may be about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don’t think it’s a swan.” Ron snickered.

“Mr. Weasley.”

“Yes?” Ron jumped and yelled his response, surprised to have been caught.

“Would you join me, please?” McGonagall glared intensely.

Ron glanced about in a panic, then slumped forward like a man heading to the gallows.

“Now then, if you will, put your left hand on my waist…”

“Where?!”

“My waist, Mr. Weasley.”

Grudgingly, Ron obeyed. As Fred and George whistle, Ron raised his right hand in a rude rejoinder when McGonagall closed her hand over his just in the nick of time.

“That’s right, extend your arm… and, Mr. Filch, if you would…”

Filch dropped the needle onto an old record player and a musty waltz filled the courtyard. Instantly, Neville smiled, bobbing his head, as if transported by the music.

“And one and two…” McGonagall kept the tempo skillfully.

“Oi!” Harry leaned back to Fred and George, who leaned forward to accommodate his height.

“Never going to let him forget this, are you?” Harry grinned. Fred and George shook their heads.

“Never. ” They replied incredibly in sync.

“Everyone! Come together…” McGonagall urged as she continued her waltz with a reluctant Ron.

The music swelled as the girls and boys nervously crossed the divide and began to pair off.

You shuffled anxiously through the crowd, watching as it seemed that every girl had a partner save for you.

You could feel your anxiety begin to spike and your self-esteem drop to an all-time low when-

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing over here all alone?”

You spun around quickly at the familiar voice and found the teasing face of Harry Potter standing before you. You sighed in relief.

“Oh, um… just observing, I guess.” You replied unconvincingly.

“Don’t observe. Come dance. I need practice.” Harry took your hand and led you to the floor.

Harry placed his his over your rib-cage while you placed your hands on his shoulder and in his other hand. You giggled.

“Harry, your hand goes on my waist, dear.” you mimicked McGonagall the best you could. Harry snorted with a faint flush dusting the apples of his cheeks in the most flattering way.

“I know.” He scoffed. You rolled your eyes and removed your hand from his shoulder to encase it over his wrist and pushed it down on to your lower waist.

“You do need practice, Potter.” you moved your feet according to the music as Harry clumsily attempted to mimic you. He did end up stepping quite harshly on your toes, however.

“Ow!” You gasped, removing your hands from him to hop on one foot.

“Sorry! I’m just… extremely uncoordinated.” Harry groaned at himself. You dusted off your now unpolished uniform shoe and waved him off assuringly.

“That’s what this class is for. Just follow my lead.” You nodded down to your feet and Harry followed your eyes.

“One, two, three… one, two, three…” You began softly as you moved slowly to accommodate Harry’s speed.

“How do you know so much about dancing?” Harry asked without taking his eyes from both of your feet.

“My parents are Muggles, I attended cotillion as a child.” you reminded with a smile. Harry looked up at you, realizing your faces were in very close proximity.

“Well… um… lucky me, I guess.” He chucked nervously. You beamed brightly at him, resulting in his heart jumping into his throat and being unable to keep himself quiet.

“Would you teach me how to dance?” He blurted instinctively. Your mind blanked for a moment as you were making sure you heard him correctly.

“I just… McGonagall told me not to embarrass Gryffindor and I thought that I should take some lessons from someone with dancing experience…” Harry avoided eye contact with you. Your heart sank into your stomach. Why on earth did you think he was going to ask you to be his date? You’re only friends.

“Oh, um… right, yeah. Sure. I’ll teach you a few things.” You tried to keep your voice from shaking, but the disappointment was clearly present.

Harry grinned half-heartedly. “Great.”

If only the both of you knew how much the other’s heart was sinking down into the depths of hopelessness.

You were beginning to think Gryffindor, known for courage, was not the house for you. You wondered what was going through the sorting hat’s mind when he placed you.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

After a few days of unsuccessfully acquiring a Yule Ball date, Harry made his way to the Owlery, which stood like a stranded scarecrow in a sea of white. Suddenly, an owl fluttered forth and Harry halted. Footsteps sounded and a figure descended the Owlery’s snow-laden stairs, flickering in and our of view. Seconds later, a girl appeared.

Cho.

“Harry.” Cho acknowledged.

“Cho.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment. Cho gestured all around. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” She questioned quietly. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, splendid.” he replied.

He glanced away, face hidden from Cho, and grimaced, mouthing ‘splendid’ in miserable mortification.

“Well, watch yourself on the stairs. A bit icy at the top.” Cho informed bashfully as she intended to make her leave.

“Okay. Thanks.” But as she smiled and turned, Harry pressed further. “Cho!”

He said this so forcefully, she nearly stumbled stopping. “Yes?”

“I just wondered if, maybe, you… wannagoballwime?”

“Sorry… I didn’t catch that?”

Harry collected himself with a deep inhale and repeated his question, “I wondered if you’d like to… to… go to the ball with me?”

Cho’s face fell grimly. “Oh. Harry. I’m sorry. But someone’s already asked me and I’ve said I’ll go. With him.”

“Oh. Well, good. I mean… okay. No problem.” Harry looked away, flexing his fingers within his mittens. Cho chewed her lip, frowning, then turned away. As she went, Harry exhaled, shaking his head, when-

“Harry?”

He looked up and saw her staring him straight in the eye.

“I really am… sorry.” She turned then, and Harry watched her dash back toward the distant castle, filling his footprints with her own.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Hermione! You’ll never believe what happened!” you rushed quickly to Hermione’s side the moment you entered the common room and found her in one of the comfortable arm chairs. She silently urged you to finish your statement.

“Dean Thomas asked me to the ball.” You bit your lip in excitement and Hermione beamed. “Congratulations! I knew you’d find a date in no time.” Hermione grinned.

From a distance, Harry could hear every word. His heart sank into his stomach. You were plan A, of course, but plan B ended up unfolding before he could stop himself. Now you weren’t a plan at all.

Suddenly, Ron tripped through the portrait hole, staggered across the room, and collapsed into a chair. He looked shell-shocked. Ginny, who’d accompanied him, fought hard to suppress a smile.

“What happened to you?” Harry asked curiously.

“He’s just asked out Fleur Delacour.” Ginny answered quickly.

“What?!”

“What’s she say?” Harry added before Hermione’s shock could be voiced further.

“No, of course.” Hermione guessed. But, in a pleat of doubt, “She did say no…?”

Ron shook his head.

“She said yes?!”

“Of course not! I don’t know what got into me. There she was… walking by… you know how I like it when they walk… and I couldn’t help it… it just sort of… slipped out.”

“Actually, he sort of screamed at her. It was a bit frightening.” Ginny grimaced.

“So what’d you do then?” Harry pushed.

“What else? I ran for it. I’m not cut out for this, Harry.” Ron groaned tiredly.

As they were all conversing, the Patil twins strode by, arm in arm with each other. They each glance at each other and in unison, “Hi Harry.” and they were gone as quickly as they had appeared.

Harry murmurs a half-hearted greeting before doing a double take in the direction they’d strode off in.

“Don’t worry. I think I’ve got an idea…”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Hello, boys.” The Patil twins greeted in unison.

Parvati and Padma, doubly delightful in shocking pink and bright turquoise respectively, waited below for their dates.

“Don’t you look… dashing.” Parvati’s eyes raked over Ron’s robes as she took Harry’s arm. Padma stared in open horror. Just then, McGonagall appeared, looking a bit flustered.

“There you are, Potter!” McGonagall called as she urgently made her way through the crowd to Harry and Ron.

“You and Miss Patil will wait here and enter with the other champions. Weasley…” she faltered, goggling at Ron’s robes, then collected herself.

“… you and Miss Patil may proceed inside, to the Great Hall.” she ushered them to the entrance.

“C'mon then.” As Ron dragged Padma off, she looked back desperately to her sister. Parvati just shook her head.

“We have a cousin who dresses like that.”

Just then, a gust of win stirred in the air and the Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students filed inside. As Fleur Delacour appeared, her silk wrap flew free, fluttering like a dove into the air, leading Harry’s eye to… Cho, who arrived hand in hand with Cedric Diggory.

“Omigod. She looks… Beautiful.” Parvati mumbled in disbelief.

Harry nodded glumly, staring at Cho, then realized Parvati was looking not at Cho, but a girl in blue robes.

Her hair was twisted in an elegant but messy knot with glittering butterfly barrettes littered amongst her locks to enhance the mystical facade, swan’s neck shining. She was simply ethereal. She was…

You.

“I know I’m late! Couldn’t figure out the button on the back of my dress.” You turned to demonstrate the intricate backing of your dress.

Harry remained speechless as you turned back around to face him with a wide smile. “You look handsome, my friend.” You slightly played with the collar of his dress robe, but Harry still didn’t utter a word.

“Close your mouth, Harry. We’re not a codfish.” You quoted one of your favorite Disney movies.

When he still didn’t reply, your teasing smile faltered for a worried expression. “Seriously, Harry. What’s wrong? Is my makeup smudged?” you patted your face to ensure that nothing was wrong.

“Oh! Nothing’s wrong… you just look…” Harry was quite unable to finish his sentence and you frowned.

“Is it that bad?” You looked down at your dress with your heart thumping in your chest.

“No, not at all. Quite the opposite actually… you’re stunning.” Harry’s eyes scanned you up and down. The smile returned to your features.

“Thank you… Hermione helped, of course.” You giggled bashfully.

“Well… erm, Dean is.. waiting for me so… I better go. I’m sure you’ll be expected to dance first.” You chewed the inside of your cheek anxiously, and Harry nodded.

“Right, yeah, you go. Have fun. I’ll see you later.” Harry’s arm was taken by Parvati. You nodded as well.

“See you.” You turned to disappear into the crowd to find your date. Harry watched you go longingly. Parvati smiled to herself, but said nothing nonetheless.

A path of light spilled from the Entrance Hall, revealing a darkened hall glimmering with icicles and mistletoe. The house tables had vanished, replaced by dozens of smaller ones, each glowing with lantern light around a central dance floor. Flitwick conducted a string quartet.

As the champions entered, applause arose. Fleur led the way, on the arms of a stunned-looking Ravenclaw boy (Roger Davies), while Harry and Parvati entered last, Parvati waving like a beauty queen. Harry scanned the room for Ron and found him, staring open-mouthed at Hermione as she passed with Krum.

“Is that Hermione Granger? With Viktor Krum?” Padma Patil was in shock.

“No. Absolutely not.” Ron denied with the curt shake of his head.

As the champions reached the dance floor, Flitwick’s baton froze in mid-air- bringing the hall to a hush.

“Take my waist.” Parvati urged forcefully when Harry didn’t move.

“Huh? Oh… right.” Harry places his hand on her waist and took her hand when Flitwick’s baton dropped and the waltz began.

“Go. Now!”

More out of fear than anything else, Harry took a step and then another. The music swelled. Fleur swept past, rigid as a queen. Next was Cho, dark eyes glimmering as they briefly met Harry’s own. Finally, Hermione- adrift in Krum’s strong arms- shot Harry a goofy, excited grin.

Dumbledore led McGonagall from the Tall Table and, with a short bow, swept her onto the floor, where they danced formally, beautifully. Quickly, the remainder of the staff paired off and joined them. Even Madame Maxime yielded to Hagrid and his horrible suit, though she casted her eyes askance while in his arms. Only Moody remained on the sidelines, eye whirling madly in time to the waltz.

Finally, the students converged, led by Neville, who glided like Astaire, much to the astonishment of his date- Ginny Weasley. Lost in the crush, Harry felt less self-conscious about his own clumsy feet and actually managed to smile.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Later in the evening, a jagged razor burn of guitars, courtesy of the Weird Sisters, shattered the calm as the dance floor was now a mosh pit, hopping with bodies.

Fred’s hand reached up and snapped off one of the icicles and slipped it down the back of Angelina’s robes and she squealed, darting after him, passing Hermione and Krum. Hermione yelled above the din.

“Her-my-oh-nee!”

“Herm… own… ninny?”

She started to correct him, then shrugged. “Close enough.”

Harry and Ron sat watching grimly from the sidelines, while Padma and Parvati sat on opposite sides of them, arms crossed in aggravation. Ron eyed Krum lethally.

“Ruddy pumpkinhead, isn’t he?” he grumbled.

Harry’s eyes shifted from yours and Dean’s gyrating figures.

“Well, I don’t think it was the books that had him going to the library.”

A handsome Durmstrang boy approached Parvati, who looked ready to put a gun to her head.

“May I haff your arm?”

“Arm. Leg. I’m yours.” Parvati exited eagerly, following the boy at his heels.

Harry watched as Hermione pulled you from the crowd and your date, both with beautiful smiles as you approached the boys. Hermione dropped into Parvati’s vacant chair, flush from dancing. You stood awfully close to Harry, causing him to tense.

“Whew! Hot, isn’t it? Viktor and Dean have gone to get drinks. Care to join us?” Hermione asked cheerfully.

“No, we would not care to join you and… Viktor.” Ron spat his name like venom, and Hermione’s smile disappeared along with your own.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Hermione seemed offended.

“He’s from Durmstrang! You’re fraternizing with the enemy!” Ron accused loudly. You scoffed.

“The enemy? Who was it wanting his autograph? Besides, the whole point of the Tournament is international magical cooperation. To make friends.” Hermione clarified angrily.

“I think he’s got a bit more than friendship in mind.” Ron grumbled to himself. Your mouth dropped open.

“What are you suggesting?” your voice had dropped an octave, indicating your aggravation.

Harry spun around to face you, and instead of voicing his jealousy, voiced his frustration.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? With Dean as well. You’re friends with Margaret Stone, aren’t you? That’s who Dean’s really after. Heard him talking about it the other day.” Harry huffed and sat back in his seat with crossed arms.

It wasn’t a total lie; Harry had heard Dean talking about Margaret Stone, but it wasn’t the other day. It was about a year ago.

You stood taken aback by Harry’s words. Not once had you heard him speak in this tone of voice, especially to you.

“W-… what do you mean?” You could feel your voice wavering as Hermione looked up at you.

“Y/N. He doesn’t mean it.” She urged. Harry stood.

“Well, of course I meant it! You’re easy enough to go out with and get closer to Stone without a second glance from anyone. Thought you were smarter than that. Aren’t you supposed to be like Hermione?” Harry’s arms remained crossed as he glared at you with fury.

But he quickly regretted his words when he watched as your eyes welled up with tears, threatening to spill over as you bit your bottom lip to keep from quivering.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Dean with two drinks in hand, looking confused between you and Harry. “What’s going on?”

You choked on a sob that threatened to rip through your throat and dashed off, brushing past Dean on your way. Hermione glared at both Ron and Harry before jumping up to chase after you. “Y/N! That’s not true!” She called after you.

Dean spared Harry and confused glance before turning off in the same direction to follow you.

“Are you going to ask me to dance or not?” Padma asked Ron as she sulked.

“No.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

As Ron and Harry exited, after the fiasco with Hermione, Ron broke off by himself in a rage. Harry found himself alone, Parvati no where to be found, not that he cared at all where she was.

He rounded the corner out of the Great Hall and found you, leaning against a wall and dabbing under your eyes so as to keep your tears from ruining your makeup.

The two of you make eye contact and you froze.

“Y/N-”

“No, don’t touch me.” you jerked away from his grip like you’d been burnt with a ragged breath, avoiding eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. I didn’t mean it like that…” Harry began slowly, gauging your reaction.

“Harry, you humiliated me in front of Ron and his date, your date, and Hermione, and might as well have embarrassed me in front of Dean.” You moved to cover your face with your hand to hide your expression.

Though Harry knows what he’d done, the thought still made his heart wrench. He’d made you cry, and he never wanted to be the cause of that, not now, not ever.

“That’s… not what I meant to do.” Harry sighed in spite of himself.

You looked away from dabbing under your eyes and up at Harry, watching as his face filled with genuine concern.

“What did you mean, then?” you sniffled, averting your eyes to the ground as you gripped your heels in your hand.

Harry was taken aback at your question. You were giving him a chance to explain himself. He wasn’t daft enough to waste this opportunity.

“I was just frustrated, and I wanted to look out for you… I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Harry’s shoulders slouched as he began to explain himself. You slowly gained the courage to glance up at him as he spoke.

You exhaled deeply, “Dean was overrated, anyway…” you sniffled again, a small smile spreading across your face.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. You sighed exaggeratedly and threw yourself at Harry and wrapped your arms around his neck, your cheek pressed against his shoulder.

Harry grunted and stumbled back from the impact, his arms wrapping themselves around your form. He let out a breath he didn’t know had been stuck in his throat at your action, but smiled nonetheless.

“This whole night has been a disaster. Take me home, Harry.” you buried your face into his robe as you let your eyes relax and your tired brain rest.

“Oh, um, okay…” Harry gave a brief stroke to your slightly more messy, but still gracefully decorated hair.

“But you’ve gotta help me out, here.” Harry chuckled as he attempted to lift you. You groaned and secured your arms more tightly around his neck and jumped, allowing Harry’s arm to fold under your legs and hoist you up, bridal style.

He managed to bring you the rest of the way to the common room, but you somehow managed to fall asleep on the journey. Harry chuckled to himself when he noticed you’d gone limp and your jaw had fallen slack.

Through that disaster of a night, Harry learned that all friends fight, but the ones who stayed true were the ones that persisted.

He only hoped that his friendship with you would be a result of persistence.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Fifth Year

Harry quietly dismissed the weekly gathering of Dumbledore’s Army for the Christmas holiday. The progress they’d made was impeccable, incredible, and some might dare say, unfathomable.

Though, the tragic death of Cedric Diggory in the past year at Hogwarts had taken a tole on every student, especially one student in particular; Cho Chang.

She remained in the classroom, staring longingly at a cut-out clipping of Cedric’s portrait when he’d participated in the Triwizard Tournament that was taped to a musty mirror.

Harry approached her from behind, cautious so as to not startle her.

“Are you alright?” He asked carefully, keeping his voice as level as he could.

“I heard Umbridge gave you a rough time the other day.” He continued when he knew he had her attention.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Cho glanced down at her scaring hand, matching many other trouble makers in the school.

“Anyways, it was worth it.” Her gaze returned to Cedric’s, the moving picture smiled back at them as if it knew they were watching it.

“It’s just… it’s just, learning all this… makes me wonder, whether he’d known it.” Cho observed the room carefully with a longing expression. Harry was quick to assure her.

“Cedric- Cedric did know this stuff. He was really good. It’s just… Voldemort was better.” Harry decided on.

Cho cast her eyes down to the floor, then back up at Harry. “You’re a really good teacher, Harry.” In response, Harry smiled shortly.

“I’ve never been able to stun anything before.” Cho grinned cheekily

A faint rustling came from above the two, causing Cho to look up curiously. What she spotted was mistletoe, curiously growing from the ceiling above them with haste.

“Mistletoe.” Cho whispered quietly. Harry was still fascinated by the plant’s growth above them.

His eyes returned to Cho’s face, but couldn’t think of anything worth saying. “Probably full of Nargles, though.” He blurted.

“What are Nargles?” Cho asked with confusion. Harry shrugged.

“No idea.” They wasted no more time and brought themselves together to seal the silence in a tender kiss. Harry’s first, it happened to be.

“Sorry to barge in, but I forgot my-”

You stopped dead in your tracks when you found the couple snogging in the middle of the practice room. You found yourself speechless as your heart shattered into thousands of pieces at the sight.

Harry and Cho separated immediately when they both acknowledged your presence. “Oh… Y/N.” Harry scratched the nape of his neck and avoided eye contact with you.

“Dear Merlin, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” you were quick in putting up a facade of nonchalance as you frantically searched for the tie you’d recently shed when practicing spells with the group.

“It’s alright… no harm done.” Harry threw a worried glance in Cho’s direction as you find your tie.

“This was all I came for. Again, I apologize for the disturbance- I’ll be going now- Oh!” in your haste to back away, you’d knocked yourself into the wall near the entrance. You laughed nervously and rubbed the back of your head to soothe it.

“My bad, wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m leaving now.” You spun around on your heel and rounded the corner quickly, sprinting down the hallway and back to the common room as quickly as you could carry yourself.

As both Harry and Cho watched you disappear, Harry let out a long sigh. Cho turned to him. “Was that Y/N L/N?” she asked curiously. As Harry began to pack his things, he nodded.

“Yeah… it was.” Harry nodded towards the entrance as he stowed his wand away. Cho nodded grimly.

“She seemed upset.” Cho acknowledged as she watched Harry move about the room.

“Did she?” Harry questioned. Although, he had noticed your odd behavior but thought nothing of it.

“Yes, quite jealous, actually.” Cho hummed in thought.

Harry pondered that a moment. Jealous? You? Of him? Impossible.

“Yeah, right.” Harry scoffed. Though he didn’t mean anything by it, of course.

“I always thought you liked her.” Cho carefully worded her statement as she watched Harry’s back tense.

“I guess.” Harry shrugged shortly. His tone was becoming curt and short.

“Then… why are you here with me? Not going after her?” Cho gestures to the entrance to the classroom. Harry follows her gesture with his eyes and contemplated this a moment.

The next thing he knew, he’d thrown his bag over his shoulder and quickly departed with a “thank you” thrown in Cho’s direction as he hurried away.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Sixth Year

Harry peered through ripples of an imperfect windowpane in the Weasley’s Burrow, studying the others down below. A floorboard creaked. He turned and watched you emerge into the light, in a robe, twisting your wet hair into a towel.

“Everyone gone to bed?” You asked nonchalantly as you approached Harry.

“Soon.” Harry nodded.

“I don’t sleep these days. So I wash my hair. Silly, right?” you giggled at yourself, folding the towel over your arm

Harry just stared at you, the air prickling with silence. You eyed him knowingly.

“Happy Christmas, Harry.” You grinned sweetly.

Down below, Lupin continued to peer into the reeds. His pupils contracted.

“Sweetheart…” Tonks approached him.

“There’s someone out there. I can smell him. There’s more than one-”

“Suddenly, throughout the reeds, torches blazed.

Back on the second floor, the rippled window behind Harry blushed with light. Your eyes shifted from Harry to the trees beyond.

"Oh my god…”

Harry turned, his breath fogging the windowpane as, far below, flames snuck out of the reeds and slithered toward the house. Bellatrix emerged, peering up through the darkness toward Harry’s silhouette, a mad grin on her face. As she shrieked eerily, his eyes flashed with hatred.

Harry burst through the front door, wand draw, and pelted toward Bellatrix. She grinned, turned, and vanished into the reeds.

“Harry, no!” Arthur Weasley called urgently as he disappeared into the reeds.

Flames raced up the porch steps and climbed the walls of the house. Lupin drew his wand and raced after Harry.

“Remus!” Tonks called.

Ron, Fred, and George appeared and joined Arthur as he dashed toward the smoking marsh. Arthur glanced back as you emerged.

“Y/N, stay with Molly!”

Without hesitation, you raced for the reeds.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Harry careened through the marsh, reeds flashing past, then spied Bellatrix. She grinned, looking like a crazed wood nymph, then flitted off, her laughter mocking him. As he pursued, fire snaked through the reeds toward him.

Fred, George, Ron, and Arthur fanned out, running full-out, their feet kicking up sparks as shadows splintered throughout the reeds. It was like chasing ghosts.

You raced through the reeds, (h/c) hair gleaming.

Bellatrix lead Harry on, grinning madly.

You came dashing to a halt, chest heaving as you peered into the smoking marsh. A huge figure quivered through a veil of smoke. You eyes shifted, saw Bellatrix racing forward through the reeds, then shifted back as the veil of smoke evaporated and revealed… Greyback.

Bellatrix made an odd, clicking noise, like a signal, and Greyback edged forward, sweeping away reeds in front of him and revealing…

… Harry as he pelted forward.

“No, Harry! It’s a trap!”

Harry faltered, looking toward your voice and spied Greyback. Bellatrix stopped dead, wheeled in her tracks, and seeing you, shrieked with rage. Raising her wand, she fired a bolt of red light which exploded in a shower of sparks around you. You shrieked and ducked, but fired back and wheeled away, flashing through the reeds and coming face to face with-

Greyback, sharp teeth glittering.

“Don’t you smell clean.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him in pure terror.

Just then, a bolt of blue burst off Greyback’s back and he turned, seeing Harry standing several yards off. As Greyback gave a chase, you pelted after, both of your breaths shortening until…

Greyback rushed into a clearing, panting, glancing about.

Just then, twin bolts of light blasted from opposite sides of the clearing and Greyback was lifted in the air and slammed to the ground. As he regained his feet, he looked into the reeds and saw you and Harry, wands poised. He grinned… when Bellatrix’s odd, clicking signal carried through the night once again. Turning away, he disappeared.

You and Harry slowly stepped out of the reeds and stared at each other wordlessly. You let out a whimper and threw yourself at Harry, wrapping your arms around his middle in relief. He immediately reciprocated, his arms flying to hold you steady and stroke through your hair. It oddly reminded you of your experience at the Yule Ball, your mind flashing back to when you threw yourself at Harry after hearing his side of the story. You breathed a shaky sigh into his chest and Harry rested his chin atop your head.

Then… Ron, Fred, George, Arthur, and Lupin came thrashing into the clearing and stopped. All around them, the reeds smoked, the flames dying. Across the marsh, Bellatrix’s cackle rose briefly on the air- then all was quiet.

“You’re lucky you two weren’t killed.”

Hermione. Who else?

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Present…

This all brings you to today.

How did you end up sitting in Xenophilius Lovegood’s home, reading a children’s tail about the Deathly Hallows in the middle of what was supposed to be your seventh year at Hogwarts? You’ll never know.

You’ve all just finished listening to Hermione read from the Tales of the Beedle Bard children’s book of wizarding fairytales.

Xenophilius Lovegood stares out out the window. The sun has nearly vanished over the lip of the hill.

“Well, there you are. Those are the Deathly Hallows.”

Harry glances around the room, still confused.

“Sorry… I still don’t really understand.” He shrugs.

Lovegood turns and, taking quill and parchment, draws a straight vertical line…

“The Elder Wand…”

… then adds a circle on top of the line…

“The Resurrection Stone.”

… then encloses both in a triangle.

“The Cloak of Invisibility. Together… they make the Deathly Hallows. Together… they make one master of Death.”

The four of you stare at the symbol in disbelief.

“Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?” You asked curiously. You noticed Ron, Harry, and Hermione staring at you in curiosity.

“That was the name of the grave with the mark on it in Godric’s Hollow. Ignotus Peverell.” You clarified with detail.

“Ignotus and his brothers Cadmus and Antioch are thought to be the original owners of the Hallows and therefore the inspiration for the story.” Lovegood’s focus abruptly wavered, sadness in his eyes, then blinks, eyeing the tea kettle.

“Ah, but your tea’s grown cold. Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Lovegood heads downstairs with the tea kettle in hand.

As Lovegood exits, Ron speaks. “Let’s get out of here once he’s back. I’m not touching this stuff, hot or cold.” Ron grimaced at his cup of half-empty tea. You nodded in agreement.

“Which one would you choose if you could? Of the Deathly Hallows?” Harry asks the group, lost in thought.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Hermione glances around.

All four of your speak at once:

“The Wand.”

“The Cloak.”

“The Stone.”

You all glance at each other, amused. You and Hermione share a look, knowingly. You’d each picked the cloak for a reason.

“You’re supposed to say the Cloak, but who wants to spend all day being invisible? Dead boring if you ask me. But an unbeatable wand!” Ron grinned.

“Its owner grew drunk with power and was murdered.” Hermione raises an eyebrow at Ron accusingly.

“Yeah, but imagine what a short wicked life you’d lead.” Ron counters.

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Why the Stone, Harry?” she directs her question to Harry now.

“Well, you could bring people back, couldn’t you? Mad-Eye. Dumbledore. Sirius. Anybody.” Harry shrugged.

“But according to the story, they don’t want to come back. It’s all rubbish, anyway. There’s no such thing as the Deathly Hallows.” Hermione’s counter is gentle.

“But I have one. The Invisibility Cloak my father left me.” Harry reminds quickly.

“There have always been Cloaks-”

“Not like Harry’s. I’ve seen a fair few. Dad used to bring home the ones the Ministry confiscated from petty thieves and the like. They always got holes or tears. Harry’s is different. It’s perfect.” Ron explains before Hermione can finish.

“And I think I’ve actually held the Resurrection Stone in my hands, that night in Dumbledore’s office when he showed me the ring he’d destroyed, the Horcrux. It had a symbol on it. Now I think it was the mark of the Hallows.

The four of you stand silently when Lovegood returns.

"Mr. Lovegood. Thank you, sir-”

“You forgot the water.” Ron points to the tea kettle.

“The water?” Lovegood inquires.

“For the tea.” Ron raises an eyebrow as if it were obvious.

“Did, didn’t I? How silly of me?” Lovegood breaks out into a nervous smile.

“No matter, sir. We really ought to be go-”

“No, you mustn’t!” Lovegood panics, his hands searching for any type of purchase on any surface he can find.

“Sir?” Harry questions.

“You’re my only hope. They were angry, you see, about what I’d been writing, so they took her. They took my Luna…” Lovegood’s eyes find Harry with malicious intent. “But it’s really you they want…”

“Who took her, sir?” You try gently.

Hermione eyes the print press. A copy of the Quibbler lies stuck under a roller. She reaches out and pulls it free, the ink streaking over the cover, over Harry’s face and the blazing headline: UNDESIRABLE NUMBER #1.

“Him. Surely you call him You-Know-Who. But his real name is of course… Voldemort.”

As if on cue, instantly, out the window, figures on broomsticks appeared in the sky, getting directly toward the house. As you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hit the floor, ropes of light ricochet off the windowsill. The printing press explodes, raining Quibblers everywhere, like a flock of doves, smoking with flames. Lovegood waves madly from the window.

“Stop! I’ve got him-”

Lovegood is blasted off his feet by a stunning spell so great the chain around his neck flies across the room and settles at your feet. You glance down, watching the symbol of the Deathly Hallows dissolve like mercury, then looked up, seeing Lovegood streak out the door.

“Ron, Harry, Y/n! Take my hand!”

You, Harry, and Ron begin to crawl on your knees toward Hermione when another volley of spells ricochet about the room and- ping!- strike the Gurdyroot teapot. As Hermione watches, it flies into the air, tumbling end over end toward the Erumpent Horn. Harry’s hand closes on hers, then Ron’s, you reach out and…

… the teapot strikes the Erumpent Horn.

There is a colossal explosion. The second floor of the black cylinder ruptures. Quibblers belch into the air like confetti as Lovegood narrowly escapes and the Death Eaters are engulfed and you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione…

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ … tumble and roll to your feet, barely visible in the darkness.

“That treacherous old bleeder! Is there no one we can trust?!” Ron grumbles as he dusts himself off.

“They’ve kidnapped Luna because he supported Harry. He was just desperate.” You explain softly.

Ron says nothing, then spits, clearing the grit from his teeth and peers toward the river. Unlike the raging force it was the last time you were here, it is a little more than a trickle now. The trees are eerily quiet.

“I’ll do the enchantments.”

Ron takes out his wand… when you raise your hand, stopping him. You eyes rise. Your breath catches. Ron, Harry, and Hermione look. Clinging to the branches of the trees above, almost as if part of the trees themselves, are…

Snatchers.

A wand blooms above and illuminates the face of Scabior. Your red scarf, now faded and filthy, dangles from his neck. He presses it to his grimy nose, inhales, and grins.

“Hello, beautiful.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ The four of you dash through the trees.

You flicker through the trees, swift as the wind, as Scabior pursues you.

Harry slashes through the river, looks up, and sees a Snatcher leap across the divide from one tree to another.

Ron pounds through thick brush, over a fallen tree.

Hermione expertly avoids sticks and stones covering the forest floor, her focus unwavering.

The forest grows more dense, the shadows thicken. Spells splinter through the trees, ropes of light lace the night.

Hermione stumbles, but regains her footing and finds herself in a clearing. You come along not long after, glancing at her with panic. Another figure pelts towards the two of you: Harry.

You all freeze briefly, then the clearing explodes with light as spells ricochet. They hit the ground. You hear the snatchers closing in.

You look to Harry. The tip of your wand glows and your face blooms in the darkness, looking mildly demonic. You reach out, strip his glasses from his face, then point your wand… at him. A burst of white light strikes him in the eyes. As your wand goes dark…

… he is flying toward a fortress, gliding around the high walls, up to the topmost window of the highest tower. He passes through the window- little more than a slit- and…

…finds a skeletal figure lying beneath a ragged blanket. The figure stirs, looks up, and grins with broken teeth. It is the young man- the thief- grown old. Grindelwald.

“Ah, Tom, I thought you would come one day. But surely you must know I no longer have what you seek.”

A shadow- Voldemort’s- falls across Grindelwald.

“If not you, then who?”

“You’re so innocent, Tom. Like a schoolboy. There’s so much you don’t understand.”

“Tell me, Grindelwald. Tell me where to find it! Tell me who possesses it! The name, Grindelwald! The name!”

“Can’t you guess, Tom? It lies within him, of course. Buried within the earth. It is he who possesses it, even in death. Your old friend and mine… Dumbledore.”

Harry blinks and in a swollen blur, peers at you and whispers quickly.

“They exist. The Hallows.”

You and Hermione look at him expectantly. He nods, his face shrouded in shadow, barely visible.

“But he only wants the one, the last one. That’s what he’s been looking for.”

“What are you saying?”

“He knows where it is, You-Know-Who. He’ll have it by the end of the night. He’s found the Elder Wand.”

As you and Hermione stare in stunned disbelief, figures emerge from the trees. Ron is shoved to the ground next to them. Scabior strips you, Hermione, and Harry of your wands.

“Don’t touch her!” Harry exclaims urgently. A fist hits Harry hard. It’s Greyback.

“Stop it!” You gasp desperately.

“Your boyfriend’ll get worse than that if he doesn’t behave, lovely.” Scabior grins misshapenly.

Scabior paints your face with light then casts it on Harry. Harry peers up, his eyes swollen to slits, his face horribly misshapen.

“What happened to you, ugly?” Scabior grimaces.

Harry’s hand finds his face, feeling the lumps.

“What’s your name?”

“Dudley. Vernon Dudley.” Harry blurts quickly.

“Check the list. And you, ginger?”

“Stan Shunpike.” Ron grumbles.

“Like 'ell you are. We know skinny Stan. Try again.” Scabior scoffs.

Greyback, his boot to Ron’s neck, presses harder.

“Weasley… Barney Weasley.” Ron makes up the name on the spot.

“Weasley, eh? Wouldn’t be related to that blood traitor Arthur Weasley, would you?”

“Piss off! Arthur Weasley’s ten times the wizard you are!” Ron struggles.

“Worth ten times you if I can find him. Wasn’t you that tipped him off, was it?” Scabior growls. Ron stays mute. Scabior turns to Hermione.

“You?” He asks quickly.

“Penelope Clearwater. Half-blood.” Hermione struggles in the snatcher’s grip.

Scabior turns to you with a sickly sweet grin.

“How 'bout you, lovely? What do they call you…?”

You jerk away from his finger under your chin and glare.

“Lavender. Brown. Pure blood.” you whisper quietly.

Scabior strokes the nape of your neck, then takes your hair in hand, sniffing it. You groan at his proximity.

“You smell like vanilla, Lavender. I think you’re going to be my favorite.” He grins.

“There’s no Vernon Dudely on 'ere.” A snatcher waves a book in the air.

Reluctantly, Scabior turns from you to Harry.

“Hear that, ugly? The list says you’re lying. How come you don’t want us to know who you are? Hm?”

“The list is wrong. I told you who I am-”

Scabior puts a finger to his lips, silencing Harry, his wand probing Harry’s face more closely.

“Change of plans, boys. We won’t be taking this lot to the Ministry.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Scabior and the others escort you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione past the yew hedges of the Malfoy Manor. You eye the white peacock, looking like a ghostly lawn ornament. Harry whispers to you.

“What did you put on me?” He inquires.

“A Stinging Jinx.” You inform quietly.

“How long will it last?”

“Not long.”

Harry glances down and sees his glasses cupped in your palm. As he slips them into his pocket, the group suddenly slows. Up ahead, on the other side of the gate, Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa approach. Scabior grabs Harry’s arm and pushes his face up to the iron bars.

Bellatrix steps close. “Show me.”

Scabior reaches out his dirty fingers and pushes Harry’s hair roughly off his forehead.

Bellatrix shines her wand. Despite the swelling, one intriguing feature can be seen: a scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt. Bellatrix studies it long and hard… then smiles.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

As Bellatrix leads the procession inside, she speaks to Narcissa.

“Get Draco.”

Narcissa eyes her sister briefly, warily, then strides off, toward the brightly-lit room ahead, where her husband Lucius stands, cradling a nearly-empty wine glass.

“Why Draco?” Lucius inquires. Narcissa passes her husband without a word.

“Just sit back and watch, Lucius. Hm? Pour yourself another glass of wine.” As she passes, she flicks her finger off the rim of his glass.

Bellatrix turns, eyeing you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Where’d you find them?” She begins.

“In the North Forest.” Scabior answers.

Wormtail quietly enters the room. As Harry eyes him, Bellatrix pauses, studying his scar again.

“Lovely scarf, Scabior. Though I’m not sure it’s your color.” Bellatrix teases.

“It’s not mine.”

“You don’t say.” Her eyes slide, catching him looking to you.

“Fancy her, do you, Scabior? Can’t say I blame you. Maybe we’ll work out a little reward for you, hm? That is, assuming all is as it appears. Ah, Draco. Come here, darling.”

From the shadows at the far end of the room, Draco separates from Narcissa and steps cautiously forward.

“My friends here say they’ve got Harry Potter. Seeing as he’s an old school chum of yours, I thought you could confirm the fact for us.”

Draco stares at Harry.

“Well…?” Bellatrix urges.

“I can’t… I can’t be sure.” Draco grimaces. Lucius steps forward, wine glass sloshing.

“Look close, Draco. If we’re the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven. Do you understand-”

“Now, we won’t be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?” Scabior reminds, quietly menacing.

“Of course not.” Bellatrix’s eyes harden. “Narcissa. Tend to your husband.”

Lucius staggers back nervously next to his wife.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Get up nice and close.” Bellatrix nudges Draco forward until he’s only inches from Harry.

“What’s wrong with his face?” Draco grimaces as he gets a closer look at Harry.

“Yes, what is wrong with his face, Scabior?” Bellatrix cranes her neck to look up at the snatchers.

“He came to us that way. I reckon he picked it up in the forest.” Scabior shrugged.

“Or ran into a Stinging Jinx.”

You feel your heart clench as you cast your eyes downward. Bellatrix notices your destress and her eyes flash, stepping up close to you.

“Was it you, dearie? Give me her wand. We’ll see what the last spell was.”

You’re alarmed as the Snatcher steps forward.

“What is that?” Bellatrix’s tone is quietly murderous. She pushes past Scabior and Greyback and steps before another Snatcher.

Your beaded purse dangles from one hand. In the other, he holds… the Sword of Gryffindor.

“It was in her bag when we searched her. Reckon it’s mine now.”

Bang! Quick as lightning, Bellatrix stuns the Snatcher and catches the sword as he drops. Scabior wheels.

“Are you mad?!” Bang! Bellatrix drops Scabior to his knees before his wand escapes his cloak. He bellows in fury.

“How dare you! Release me, woman!”

Bellatrix stares at him, eyes full of fire, then flicks her wand as he slumps forward, wincing.

“Go. GO!”

Scabior eyes her resentfully, then exits with Greyback an the others. Bellatrix turns.

“Wormtail. Put these three in the cellar. I want to have a little conversation with this one. Girl to girl.”

��No!” Hermione steps forward and covers your body with her own, staring Bellatrix down with confidence. Bellatrix merely smirks.

“Fine. Put the boys in the cellar, then. We’ll have a girl talk.”

As Wormtail jerks them away, Harry’s eyes flash with panic and meet yours. You mouth, “It’s okay.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Wormtail prods Harry and Ron down a steep flight of stairs and slams the door. Ron throws himself against it and turns to Harry.

“Harry! What’re we going to do? We can’t just leave them alone with her!”

“Ron…? Harry…?”

Harry peers into the small, shadow space below and senses movement.

“Luna…?” ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Bellatrix twirls a silver dagger in her fingers.

“This sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts. How did you get it?” Bellatrix pins you to the floor as Hermione lays motionless beside you, watching helplessly.

You draw in a shaky, sobbing breath as you try to regain your composure as you cry out. “I didn’t take it!” You exclaim desperately.

“Liar!” Bellatrix moves to your arm and slices open the skin in a rhythmic fashion, carving a word out of your skin. You let out a scream in agony and struggle in her grip, shrieking as your skin burns.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Harry eyes Ollivander cautiously, when Bellatrix’s voice echoes through the vent.

“I’m going to ask you once again: what else did you and your friends take from my vault?!”

Harry’s heart nearly shatters when he hears your sobbing response.

“I told you! I don’t know what you’re talking-” you scream in pain. Harry slams his fist against the wall and turns.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hermione whimpers as she watches Bellatrix’s use of the Cruciatus curse on you for answers. You let our a piercing wail of anguish as she strikes you again.

“Stop it, please.” Hermione lets out a gentle sob and whisper as she watches you struggle to keep sane.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Quickly, cautiously, Harry and Ron, now brandishing Wormtail’s wand, pad toward the main room as Dobby, the newest arrival, slips off in another direction. As Ron steps past the lifeless Snatcher without a glance, Harry hesitates and glances down.

Something flutters weakly in the Snatcher’s pocket. The tip of a golden wing. Harry crouches and looks; it’s the Snitch.

“Sss.”

Harry looks up and sees Ron gesturing for him. Quickly, he takes the Snitch and slips it into his pocket.

Harry joins Ron as the watch Bellatrix, who comes into view, towering over Griphook, who holds the sword, studying it. You lie at Bellatrix’s feet. Seeing you, Harry begins to lurch forward. Ron restrains him.

“Well?”

“I left Gringotts employ many weeks ago, but when I was last in your vault, the sword was there.”

Hermione studies the two and then watches as a strand of Bellatrix’s hair drifts free and, as if in a dream, floats through the air…

“Perhaps it just walked out on its own then.”

“There is no place safer than Gringotts, Madam Lestrange.”

… and catches on Hermione’s shirt.

“Liar! You can’t deceive me!” Bellatrix slashes the dagger across Griphook’s cheek and a deep gash opens. He barely flinches, the hint of a smile on his lips. Bellatrix looks mildly unnerved by his reaction.

“Consider yourself lucky, Goblin. The same won’t be said for this one.” Bellatrix poises the dagger over you and pushes your limp body with her pointed heel. You whimper at the contact to your sore body and flip over at her command.

“Like hell!”

Bellatrix wheeled, seeing Harry pelting forward.

“Expelliarmus!”

Bellatrix’s dangling wand shoots free and tumbles end over end, right into Harry’s hand.

“Stupefy!”

Lucius Malfoy drops instantly, his wine glass shattering in a burgundy bloom on the hearth. Narcissa and Draco draw their wands. Jets of light spray across the room.

Hermione had been snatched up by Ron at this point, but no one was able to get to you.

“Stop or she dies!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione freeze and see you leaning limply against Bellatrix, the dagger at your throat.

“Drop your wands.” Bellatrix commands.

Harry stands rigidly, staring balefully at Bellatrix. She presses the dagger into your neck enough for a small cut.

“Ah!” you exclaim painfully.

“I said drop them!”

“All right!” Harry grunts angrily.

Ron flings away Wormtail’s wand, Harry drops Bellatrix’s.

“Pick them up, Draco. Now! Well, well, look what we have here. Harry Potter. All bright, shiny and new again. Just in time for the Dark Lord.”

Harry glances in the mirror opposite and sees that the stinging jinx is wearing off.

“Call him, Draco.”

Draco hesitates. But Lucius doesn’t, pulling up his sleeve and touching his finger to the Dark Mark on his forearm. Harry’s scar constricts and he grimaces in agony. Bellatrix cackles maniacally, her knife pressed against the tender flesh of your neck. A bead of blood bubbles on the blade and then… and grinding noise in heard. Harry glances up and sees the chandelier begin to tremble. As the tinkle of glass fills the room, Bellatrix stares directly upward, watching as…

… the chandelier bursts free of the ceiling and plummets. Bellatrix bolts and you stagger clear, falling into Harry’s arms. His arms immediately reciprocate and you fall into that familiar memory once again. Your body is sore and limp, but there’s no where you would rather be than in his arms at this moment.

Griphook grabs the sword as glass explodes in razor-sharp slivers, Draco screams and covers his bloody face. Harry wrests the blood-soaked wands from his hands after transferring you to Ron and Hermione and, wheeling, points all three at Lucius.

“Stupefy!”

Lucius flies off his feet and drops in a heap.

“You dirty little monkey! You could have killed me!”

Harry turns and sees Bellatrix raging at Dobby. The elf stands fearlessly across from her, defiant.

“Dobby never meant to kill. Dobby only meant to maim… or seriously injure.

"For God’s sake, Cissy, you’ve got a wand! Use it!”

Narcissa hesitates. Crack!- Dobby waves his little fist and Narcissa’s wand flies from her hand.

“How dare you take a witch’s wand! How dare you defy your masters!”

“Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!”

Harry tosses Ron and wand, grabs your beaded bag, and joins the others in the center of the room.

“Give the Dark Lord our regards.” You call out weakly with a cheeky smile.

Harry almost smiles back at you. You always have to have the last word.

His hand closes on Dobby’s and the drawing room begins to spin. Bellatrix’s face twists into an ugly blur. Her arm rises, dagger in hand. There is a flash of silver. Then all goes black for a long time.

Then…

… with a great WHOOSH, Harry and the others tumble onto solid earth and hear the crash of waves.

As Harry staggers to his feet as the stars whirl above him. He sees he is on a cliff overlooking a dark sea.

Ron holds Hermione gently. Tears sting her eyes.

You feel a sharp pain in your stomach and your breath hitches.

You can already begin to feel life leaving your body as you become numb to the pain.

“It’s all right, Hermione. You’re safe. We’re all safe.” Harry begins to assure as he searches for you.

She doesn’t respond, nor Ron. Then Harry realizes they are looking past him, even Dobby and Griphook, the sword hanging limply in his hand.

Harry turns.

You stand alone, a queer smile on your face, hand resting just below your chest, the hilt of Bellatrix’s dagger protruding between your fingers.

Hermione opens her mouth and lets out a blood-curdling scream at the sight of you. She covers her mouth with one hand and tears spill from her eyes as Ron holds her tightly.

“Y/N… no…”

As Harry rushes to you, you crumple in his arms, your eyes rolling up to the stars.

“It’s okay… here… just hold on, Y/N. I’ll fix you- Hermione- her bag- Essence of Dittany- something… Hermione! Help me!”

Harry is desperate now as he watches you become more and more lifeless in his arms. He can’t watch you go now, not like this. Not when they are so incredibly close.

Hermione merely stands, tears streaking her cheeks.

“Don’t worry about me, Harry.” You manage. Harry’s face contorts in a sob.

“No, but I have to worry about you! You’re dying! Please… help.” Harry searches frantically for anything.

“I would say something witty… but my mind is blank.” you manage a chuckle as you reach up to grip Harry’s arm. Harry yanks your hand and brings it up to his cheek and nuzzles himself against your palm with closed eyes.

“Hey, look at me.” You stroke his cheek the best you can manage. Harry opens his eyes and stares down into your paling eyes, his own flooding with tears.

“You’re gonna be alright, I promise.” you whisper gently.

“I never meant for you to get caught up in all of this. I promise.” Harry draws in a shaky breath and squints his eyes shut.

It has to be a dream, he’s going to wake up any moment to you shaking him awake in the tent and telling him it was just another one of his nightmares.

But when he opens his eyes, you’re still lying limp in his arms, the dagger in your body and the life leaving your eyes.

“I wanted to, Harry. It was all worth it. For you.” Your smile is sad as you watch the emotional pain that wrenches his heart.

“Please don’t leave me… I’m in love with you…” Harry sobs desperately.

You can’t tell if it’s the dagger in your chest, or if your heart palpitates from his words. That was all you ever wanted to hear. Those words from him and him alone.

“I’m in love with you too, you twat.” you giggle. Harry’s frown twitches into a sad smile for only a moment, before he regains his awareness of the weight of the situation.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” he sniffles pathetically.

“Me too.” Your hand on his cheek begins to grow numb and limp, if it weren’t for Harry gripping it to his face.

You use your last burst of strength and wind your hand around his neck and tug him down to your level, pressing your lips to his in your first and final kiss. Harry wastes no time and reciprocates, only separating from you when he needs air to breathe, but keeps the proximity between your faces.

“Take care of them for me, yeah?” You whisper as your eyes become hooded.

“W-what? No! Y/N, please! We’re going to fix you, I promise, I’ll-”

But he stops himself when he notices that your eyes have fluttered shut and your hand falls limp around his neck. He’s close enough to your face to feel your breathing has stopped and your body has gone mostly cold.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry cradles your head against his neck and lets out heart-wrenching sobs unabashedly.

Hermione hides her face in Ron’s neck as she cries, and Ron sheds tears as he watches his best friend cradle your limp body.

They never thought it would come to this.

49 notes · View notes

hillnerd · 2 years ago

Text

Waking Up - Ch 12

AO3 FFN Beginning of story | Previous Chapter

chapter word count 13573

Chapter warnings: action 'violence' and descriptions of combat-like situations, tension, cursing, brief descriptions of injuries

As per usual, I am immensely grateful to my beta reader @abradystrix

Hope you like this new chapter!

Previously in Waking Up: Ron gets off of his shift at the Pub, and is told not to come back until exams are over. The past is still haunting him, as is his fight with Hermione. He receives the official Auror Recruit books from his dad, Ginny warns him to look after himself instead of putting Harry first, and he studies with Hermione (who makes some handle duelling dummies to practice his flying with). He and Harry have a small tiff about Ron over-extending himself, but it's fine the next day as they head into the first exam together.

It's all rather tame flying exercises until Musaad introduces the seccond half of the exam: "In the north is an enemy base for you to capture," said Sealy-Pearce, pointing to the X on the map. At this base is a flag- as soon as one of you captures the flag, the base is considered captured whether or not you've defeated all of the enemy."

"The enemy is entrenched behind hefty defences. There are brooms for all of you at your destination, but they won't be immediately available. You'll find them in a red shed a short way from your arrival point. Your jackets will protect you from any sort of critical damage. If you're hit or harmed in a way that would normally kill a person or incapacitate them, the vest will act as a port key, and you will be brought back here. That will be the end of this C.R.E. for you."

"You'll begin at this arrival point," said Mussaad, pointing to the O on the map. "From there you will make your way toward the enemy camp. The terrain has slopes leading up from the lake." "There are two things to look out for along the way: one is the enemy emplacements all along the coast of the lake. There will be heavy spell-fire to avoid. The enemy will have much stronger spells than the ones you saw here— shield charms will only do so much."

"The second is booby traps. Tread and fly carefully. They have been lain all across the area leading up to the base. You should be able to see them and can use spells to detect them as well, but be careful. Accidentally triggering one will mean major spell damage. If you have the knowledge, you can dismantle them." "Use your wits, act as a team, and use the varied strengths of the team to your advantage. We want to see your resilience, not just your flying skills." Musaad waved his wand and a black door appeared.

Chapter 12 - Combat Readiness Exam #2- part 2

They walked into darkness. It took a moment for Ron's eyes to adjust. There was a bright almost full moon above them revealing a large lake with rolling hills and wood, but even with that the lakeshore was shrouded in murky nightfall and any distinct details were nearly impossible to make out. The nearby woods loomed up a hill with no distinct path ahead. The lake's beach was empty, save a few large rocks covered in dried silt and old reeds.

Ron's boots sunk into the sodden earth as the group slowly stepped forward.

"Ugh… Disgusting!" Theold complained, shaking his leg to dislodge the mud.

"Hominem Revelio," Harry whispered, waving his wand. Nothing happened.

"No one's here," said Ramona with a relieved sigh.

Ron's neck prickled. He didn't know how, but he could feel they were being watched. It was similar to the feeling he'd had when Voldemort's name had been jinxed; Harry and Hermione hadn't been able to feel it, but he somehow could. It felt something like when there was a sudden change of pressure in the air and your ears sort of wanted to pop— only it was his whole body feeling the mild discombobulation and he could hear fine.

As they slowly edged forward he could feel it pressing on him, and his scarred arms ached just a bit.

"There's the broom shed," said Vyse, walking up beside them.

He pointed and sure enough the same red 'broom mansion' they'd used in the first part of the exam was across the beach, nestled next to the pitch black woods. It couldn't be more than eighty or so metres away.

Ramona moved as if to Apparate but nothing happened.

"There are anti-Apparition wards up."

"Then we need to tread extra carefully, we don't know—" Neville began, but Theold pushed past him, slicking back his bouffant.

"Let's get out of this muck."

Ramona moved forward as well.

"Wait! Both of you, something's out there," Ron said, jogging ahead and putting his arm out.

"What?" Ramona asked, snarky as usual. "There aren't any people. Can you see or hear something?"

"No," he said, knowing he sounded a bit daft. "I'm not sure what it is… I just can sort of… feel it."

"Oh, well if you can feel it," said Ramona with a snort, Theold looked just as amused.

"What do you think it is?" asked Harry, turning to him, thankfully taking his gut feeling seriously.

"I don't know… Something's out there… Watching us… Maybe it's a dummy or one of those traps or something…"

"Well, while you figure it out, I'm going to get a broom," said Ramona.

"Right? My boots are getting soggy standing here," said Theold.

"Stop!" Ordered Harry, but the two barrelled ahead.

"Please just wait a second," pleaded Ron, the desperation in his voice slowing Ramona, at least. "Let me at least check for traps. Captionem depre—"

"It's just right there. I want to get this thing over with," interrupted Theold, taking a few long strides forward. Nothing happened. The night sky was clear and Theold's steps were the only sound.

He turned around and smiled at them.

"See? There's nothing —"

A concussive blast of red lights shot through the air, exploding the lake shore in a hail of dirt clods, and striking Theold square in the chest. His feet had barely left the ground when he disappeared into nothingness.

The spells continued to rain down, before turning their way towards the group, ploughing the earth up with ear-tearing strikes.

On instinct Harry and Ron sprinted towards the rocks they'd just passed.

"HIDE BEHIND THE ROCKS!" Harry yelled to the slower recruits.

The recruits retreated behind the rocks. Ron pulled his legs into his chest in time to avoid a spell ripping past him. Recruits threw themselves to the ground and huddled together like a nest of starlings as the blasts continued.

Ramona was a few metres behind them, a purple shield charm on her back. It kept the spells at bay until one aimed low and shot apart the earth at her feet. She made an inelegant dive behind the rocks.

"NOW WILL YOU LISTEN TO US?" Ron bellowed over the den.

She said nothing, but closed her eyes tight and pulled her ankle towards her.

Harry, Ron and Vyse began throwing spells around the rock in the direction of the spells. Visibility was too low to see anything beyond the red lights of the spells that wouldn't stop. Nothing the recruits aimed connected: maybe the dummies firing on them had excellent shield charms; either way they were fucking cornered less than a minute into their exam.

Kevin threw a giant crackling explosion, but it did nothing to stop the spells shattering the earth around them. "HOW THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET OVER THERE NOW?"

"WHAT'S THE PLAN?" hollered Neville.

Harry squared his shoulders. "WE NEED TO GET TO THE BROOMS! ACCIO BROOM!"

They waited through the malay, but no broom came to them.

"I CAN RUN FOR IT AND GET THEM!" Vyse volunteered.

"NO! YOU'D END UP LIKE THEOLD!" Ron shook his head and put his hands tights against his ears. He needed to think! The spells vibrated his chest and rang his ears.

The recruits lobbed spell after spell but nothing made the torrent ease.

It was an onslaught none of them could outrun. Ron was a bit faster than the lot, but he'd have to be dumb as Goyle to go out there. Dumb… Dummy!

They were being attacked by dummies! Battle dummies could only be taught so much and respond so well— they all had some sort of limitation! He just needed to test them.

A dirt clod hit his boot and invitingly bounced next to his hand. Without another thought he grabbed the clod and threw it in a high arc. It landed, bouncing and rolling undisturbed along the ground. Either the dummies weren't stupid enough to aim at something small and inanimate, or they couldn't see well enough to hit it.

He made a nearby dirt clod glow then threw it in the same high arc. It bounced and landed before being pulverised by several blasts. Ron grinned. Whatever were attacking them were powerful, but reactive, had bad eyesight and were on the dumb side.

"SEE WHAT YOU CAN CONJURE UP TO DISTRACT THEM! PUT IT OVER AWAY FROM US!" he yelled to the group.

Ron demonstrated, conjuring some birds and sending them along the lakeshore toward the forest. As the golden birds flew, giant craters followed in their wake.

Ron could just see the vague dark outline of a large battle dummy floating away, spells firmly aimed after the birds.

The rest of the group began conjuring a myriad of animals and spelling glowing stones to roll. Soon the dummies and their blasts were all lured far enough away the recruits no longer had to yell.

Quiet finally found them again. They gave a collective sigh of relief.

"We'll that was fucking awful!" Ron said, putting a finger in his still ringing ear and finding a dirt clod in it. Ramona was still holding her ankle. "Y'okay?"

"Fine," she answered through gritted teeth, eyes still closed.

Ron gave a shrug. If she wanted to ruin her chances by ignoring an injury that was on her.

"Should we run for it now?" asked Vyse, looking uncomfortable to stay in one place long.

As stupid as the dummies were, Ron needed to see if they'd stay distracted. He tossed another glowing dirt clod. Seconds later a spell ripped it in two.

"Running's out. Those things could turn on us in a second," said Harry, shaking his head.

"We need to get the brooms, though!" Vase insisted.

"Even if we do, what then?" Neville asked. "We need a plan before we leave this spot."

"I have the map," said Ramona. She let out a hissing breath before opening her eyes and expanding the map, laying it out in front of Ron and Harry.

Ron lit his wand and the two friends studied the paper. It was a topographic map, same as the one Musaad had shown them, with lines all over it and symbols, but Ron knew shit all about reading maps like that and there was no map key to tell what the symbols meant. Forest to the Northeast. Lake to the West. Flag well on the other side of both surrounded by some squares he assumed were buildings. Ron looked and looked, but nothing came to him. "Okay… I don't know much about these sorts of maps."

"It's topographical," said Ramona, as if that were enough.

"Yeah, I know that, but I don't know how to read it beyond the basics of, like, forest, lake, building, flag."

"I can't believe you don't know how to read a topographic map!" She rolled her eyes, then looked around. Everyone was shrugging and looking expectantly at her. "What, none of you know how to read it?"

"Explain it to us," said Harry.

She huffed, but acquiesced. "Each of these lines shows the elevation level of the land. The closer together the lines are, the taller something is. See how the lines are so close in the forest? It means the summit in the forest is steep. They colour coded for forest density too, so it's dark green where the trees grow close, and practically brown in places like the lake shore where there aren't trees."

Everyone nodded except Vyse. "Like Potter said, explain it to us."

"The forest is steep and dense so it'll be hard to fly through, moron!" she snapped.

Ron looked to the ground to think. Neville and Kevin would struggle to get through that sort of terrain. Just seeing the edge of the woods he could tell it was steep and craggy. The woods looked about as dark as the inside of his trainers. By wandlight the weakest flyers wouldn't stand a chance trying to dodge between trees.

The map had the lake in blue, but beyond it was a pale green with some sort of line through it.

"And what about there?" Ron asked, pointing across the water on the map. "That river?"

"Either it's a dried up river or an abandoned path, they didn't colour code it for water."

"So it'd be easier for people to fly through to get to the base."

"If we can get across the lake at all," said Ramona, frowning across the actual lake in front of them.

"Our goal is to get the flag," said Harry, bringing the group's attention to him. "We need to expect traps and battle dummies around the base. What would it look like if we came from the valley?"

"The valley trail is flush against the base where the flag is," Ramona reported. "The trail is low and there's too much ground to cover for us to get the flag easily. The flag is closer to the forest."

"So it would be better to come from the forest for the flag, and not from the valley," said Harry.

Ramona nodded. "Especially if those Bots are out there."

"Bots?" asked Neville.

"The battle dummies. They sort of work like robots… So, Bots," Ramona said as if the explanation made any sense. The hell was a robot?

"If we come from the forest couldn't the Bots' spells knock trees on top of us?" asked Claudia.

If they all were clustered together in the trees it could be just as bad as a long stretch of land, and give them few options for whatever they faced.

"We need to split up," said Ron, looking intently at the map. "One team will fly from the valley and butt up to the base, attacking from behind the buildings. The other will fly from the trees. Between the two teams we can distract the… 'Bots' enough for one of us to get the flag."

"That is a great idea, Ron…but we still don't have our brooms," Neville noted.

"There has to be a way to get in there," said Harry, looking rather determined and heroic as he said it. Ron knew he could never look half that commanding or cool.

"If we run out there, we're sitting ducks," protested Ramona. "They can see us coming the whole way."

An idea began to form. Ron smiled. "Then we have to make it so they can't see us!"

"Oh, if that's all!"

"What are you thinking?" asked Harry, ignoring Ramona's put upon scoff.

"Smoke and a little distraction," said Ron, looking about him. There was an old barrel half in the lake. That would be perfect. He Accioed it towards them and tried to remember the spells Hermione had done the day before.

"A few of us who run the fastest will go to the brooms. We can use a smoke screen to cover us."

"Who was fast in their first C.R.E.?" asked Neville.

Ron, Harry, Vyse and Claudia raised their hands. Ramona had been a fast runner, but surprisingly didn't raise her hand.

"You were fast too, Ramona," prompted Kevin.

"I'd rather go the valley route," she sharply replied.

Ron rolled his eyes. "After we run, one of us can bring the brooms back to the valley group."

"That's a lot of risk for that person, though," piped Claudia. "You have to go out there twice!"

"I'll fly back with them, since it's my idea," said Ron. It wouldn't hurt for them to have at least one person who could fly well and wasn't injured. "Then the four of us can make more smoke cover and fly across the lake. We'll take the valley while the other three take the forest."

"What's to keep the Bots from attacking people on the lake besides smoke?" Kevin asked, peering at the lake with uncertainty.

Ron gave the barrel a pat. "This."

Whether it was Ron's ability to explain himself, or Harry and Neville's fervent support, the rest of the recruits were swayed and agreed to his plan.

They split into the two teams, fastest runners facing towards the 'broom mansion', while Neville, Kevin and Ramona were aimed towards the distant Bots.

"Let's do this," called Harry.

They all nodded.

Kevin, Ramona and Neville began to supply a smoke screen with their wands. It slowly rolled and spread across the land until even the moon was nothing more than a faint glow behind the shroud of fog.

"Ready?" Harry asked the Forest team. They gave various signals of assent, but it wasn't needed. They all had determined and focused gazes on their tasks, wands poised for action, bodies ready to sprint across the muddy flat. "On my signal."

Harry put his fist in the air signalling the team to hold as he peaked around the rocks. Ron threw a glowing dirt clod into the fog and it was left undisturbed on the ground. They wouldn't be seen by the Bots.

"Let's go."

With a great push off, Ron sprinted along the muddy ground, heart pounding in his chest. He sprinted as fast his long legs could carry him. Even after stumbling in muddy spell-holes a few times, he reached the Broom Mansion first and panted out the Captionem Deprehensio spell for traps.

"No traps," he told the others as they arrived. He opened the doors and found the exact same scratched broom he'd had before. He claimed it and waited for the others to do the same.

"When you've reached the base, send a Patronus," said Harry.

Ron flinched. He hadn't made one in so long he wasn't sure he could. He hadn't tried since the battle of Hogwarts, and that Patronus had failed him. But, if Harry needed him to do it he'd make it happen. Worst case he could have Neville do it.

"Send your stag when you're ready to move in on the flag."

Harry nodded.

Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "See you on the other side."

"See you on the other side." Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder, the grip a little too hard. There was a slight tremor there.

"Okay?" Ron quietly asked so no one else could hear.

His friend nodded, and looked toward the woods. "The fog is thinning out. We need to move."

Ron felt a pang of something akin to jealousy as the trio flew away without him. It was strange to not be in it with Harry as he went into action.

The Forest Team safely made it across the flat, and he could just see their outlines disappear into the trees, Harry's glasses giving a glint of moonlight his way.

With a grunt, Ron tied the rest of the brooms with conjured rope and swiped at his fringe. A small breeze blew his fringe into his eyes a second time and his stomach clenched. The fucking wind!

He looked with dread as the fog they'd laid out began to dissipate. The full moon was revealed, shining down on his path.

"Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit!" Ron cursed as he mounted his broom and began the flight to the rocks.

He laid flat against his broom in an attempt to speed it forward, but felt his broom jerk to the side. The load of the brooms made his own lag, wobble and tilt to the right. He would have to go at a piddling speed to fly straight.

He'd gotten halfway across the flat when a single bright spell shot through the air. The ground shattered, throwing dirt up his nose and making his eyes water.

He wrenched his broom up, narrowly avoiding the incoming volley, but the quick brake sent him spinning in the wrong direction.

"Fuck!"

His broom stuttered and shook as he just managed to fly upwards to avoid the incoming dirt and rocks. He was rocked back and forth like when someone heavily stepped on the edge of a canoe. He couldn't properly fly with the other brooms attached to him. With a whip of his wand he blindly sent the bundle of brooms flying ahead, hoping one of his teammates would be able to grab them.

A volley of spells battered the air around him as he bobbed and weaved, gaining altitude. High in the air he could avoid the shrapnel at least. He dared to glance down at Neville, Ramona and Kevin mounting their brooms, but otherwise the team stayed in place.

The fog was holding on the water, but just barely. Even if they resupplied the fog, it wouldn't be able to last with the wind picking up.

Another spell shot past him, and Ron did a neckbreak loop-de-loop to avoid the following volley, pushing his broom to the brink of its turn radius. The fingers of his left hand burned at the pull. His broom barely stabilised, and he could feel his bollocks getting uncomfortably squeezed as he took another turn.

In a desperate push, Ron plummeted towards the rocks, nearly crashing into the earth.

"RELEASE THE FUCKING BARREL!" Ron roared at Kevin who yelped, and set the barrel into motion.

Like a drunk toddler, the barrel lunged forward, swaying back and forth with four limbs waving in the air. With a sound loud as a firecracker, the limbs started firing off spells. They couldn't do much more than make noise and blue light, but that's all Ron needed.

Kevin pushed the groaning barrel forward and it lumbered towards the Bots. It was an inviting target and the Bots immediately took to it, aiming their spells at the lurching contraption. If Kevin hadn't put the shield charms on it, it probably would have been blasted to splinters.

"Across the water! Before the fog clears!" Ron ordered before pushing off towards the valley.

It could have been a nice flight to enjoy if there weren't the impending threat of a blasting curse ending his Auror career before it even started, and an ache in his lungs from panting in panic. He'd never gotten to fly over the lake at Hogwarts, but he imagined it could have been something like this. Watching his misty reflection as it waved and distorted with each passing water ripple was a bit hypnotic.

The valley was farther away than it looked, but after a few minutes of flying he finally landed far enough inland that the Bots wouldn't be able to see. He rubbed his face to warm it. The air over the water had been cold, and felt near freezing as the whip of the wind hit his freckled nose. His attempts to warm himself did little to help when he realised he was still alone.

He looked across the water and saw Ramona, Kevin and Neville going at a snail's pace. Their form was all wrong to fly fast. Ramona was fastest, but nowhere near the capable speed he'd seen earlier in the C.R.E., only one of her legs pulled in tight enough to go fast.

Neville and Kevin ambled, not fully going straight much of the time.

"Hurry up," Ron breathed, watching them. He looked towards the shore and could just see the blue lights of his Barrel-Bot diminishing. "Shit. HURRY UP!"

The lights of the Barrel sparked one last time before going black.

Stillness and darkness took over the shore. The moon shone bright over the lake, reflecting through the deadly clear air onto the water.

There was a loud crack, a short cry, then a splash as Ramona's broom was hit with a red spell, sending her falling into the water, broom splintered to pieces.

Immediately a volley of spells continued her way.

Somehow she'd not been taken out; the bright purple of her shield charm glowed, but it invited even more spells.

The Bots couldn't see Kevin and Neville for the glowing shield bobbing in the water. They made attempts to retrieve her from the water, but couldn't get close enough. At this rate Ron's whole team would get blasted out of the sky.

"Fucking fuckety fuck fuck fuck!"

Ron remounted his broom and flew to his teammates as quickly as he could.

Ramona's shield charm kept deflecting spells, but he could see how exhausted she looked as spells rained down on her, pushing her under the water again and again.

"KEEP GOING! I'VE GOT HER!" Ron shouted, zooming towards her splashes.

He wouldn't be able to get to her from above. There were too many spells now.

'This is going to suck.'

Without another thought he set his wand alight, took a deep breath, and flew his broom into the water.

He could see her legs kicking in the distance, and could hear the splashes and spells. The sound was loud, but thick and strange under the dark water. His lungs ached as he grabbed her foot and pulled her underwater. She panicked and kicked him hard in the chin, slamming his teeth together with a painful clack. He held fast and continued their path a few metres out before his lungs demanded he re-emerge.

They both gasped as they breached the water. He saw the recognition in her face of what had happened, but neither bothered to try and speak, too grateful for air. Unable to speak he silently forced her onto the broom and flew them towards the valley. Spells blasted the water, making the water sting as it sprayed them. This parcel was less ungainly than the clutch of brooms, and he was able to manoeuvre; not as well as when flying solo, but well enough to avoid the explosions of water around them. With a final lurch they zoomed to the depths of the valley shore where Kevin and Neville were waiting for them.

Ron felt his legs going weak as they landed in the dry river bed. He fell into a relieved pile on the ground, gasping onto the dirt. Ramona dropped beside him in fitful coughing spasms.

"That was fucking amazing!" Kevin whooped.

Ron shivered as he tried to sit up, stupidly using his left arm. He bit his lip to stop from crying out as shoots of burning pain radiated up and down. He tried to make a fist. His fingers trembled and hesitated.

Damn damn damn! Not now! Not fucking now you stupid fucking arm!

The valley was a dry river bed, dirt packed in tight. He slapped his hand onto the dirt a few times until he could feel the fingers moving.

"Here, Kevin, do some warming charms. I'll conjure some blankets," he heard Neville say.

A moment later warm air rushed over him. He could feel his hands again, but the pain hadn't subsided much.

"You are absolutely bonkers!" Kevin smiled at Ron. "What were you thinking?"

"We're a team," Ron shrugged, discreetly massaging his arm.

"A team that's down one broom. We'll need to plan for that," Neville noted.

Ramona gave a glare so powerful Kevin took a step back.

"I think it's okay for us to walk a bit," Neville continued. "It's dark and there could be traps, right? If we fly we could hurry straight into one."

Kevin nodded, looking relieved to be off his broom.

"Only for a bit. This C.R.E. is about flying and we don't want the other team's arses going cold waiting for us," said Ron, deciding it best to just purposefully ignore the pain radiating down his side. "Ramona, do you still have the map?"

Still seated on the ground, she immediately took it out, performed a drying charm and handed it to him.

Ron lit his wand and began inspecting the map. Perhaps he could do a Captionem Deprehensio and get that information onto the map? He wasn't quite sure how the trap detecting spell worked when it came to distance and didn't know what the different colours stood for, but it'd be something.

"Ron, you're bleeding," said Neville.

Ron was aching so much he couldn't begin to know the source of said bleeding. He started looking about himself.

"Your chin," said Neville, pointing to his own in demonstration.

"Oh…" He winced as he put his hand to his chin. Ramona's underwater kick must have been harder than he thought. It wouldn't help the team to bring up Ramona's place in it, though. "Yeah a bit of rock hit me when I was flying. Didn't realise it actually did damage."

Ramona shot a confused look his way, but he ignored her.

His left hand fumbled while pulling his shirt up. He pressed it to his chin and Merlin there was a lot of blood. Ron did a quick Episkey on himself. It wasn't aimed well, but the bleeding mostly stopped.

"Captionem Deprehensio," he said with a few waves of his wand. Blue white lines shot out and began a series of patterns through the air. It almost looked like a three dimensional map, but instead of showing landmarks it showed magical signatures. "Alright… Some of these traps are low and some are high. I can't know exactly where they are, or what kind of traps they are, but since we know the order they go in, that can help us navigate them."

"It looks like a mess of lines to me," said Kevin with a shrug as the spell faded away.

Ron gave his best approximation of where they would be and placed some marks on the map. "It'll be something like this. Once we run into one of them we can get a better idea where the rest are by comparison, I bet."

"So we need to purposefully set off a trap?" asked Kevin.

"It's the only way I see to have the map be accurate," Ron shrugged. "The next one is up and to the left so we can send some rocks in to set off traps."

The group began to move further into the misty valley, all except for Ramona.

"You coming?" asked Ron.

"I can't," she said, looking down at her ankle.

Ron sighed. He knew she'd been hurt. "Can you stand?"

She shook her head.

"Let's see it, then." Ramona hesitated before beginning to unlace her boot. The ankle was an ugly mass of purple and blue bruises and swollen up like a toad.

"Is it sprained or broken?" asked Kevin.

"I don't know!" she barked.

Ron felt it with his fingers. To her credit she hissed but didn't cry out. He'd had plenty of broken bones over the years; if her ankle was broken it couldn't be more than a hairline fracture. He did an Episkey on the ankle and did a Ferula charm to conjure a brace and bandage for her ankle. She tenderly put her boot back on and attempted to stand.

"Better?"

"A bit…"

"Can you fly?"

"Yes…"

"Can you fly as well as you usually do?"

She faltered before shaking her head.

"Okay… You'll hover on my broom beside us. If we need to fly, I'll jump on and steer." He stared at her, hoping she wouldn't argue. More probably due to the pain than her wanting to merrily get along, she agreed.

Neville helped Ramona onto the broom, and they were on their way.

Ron used the 'Point Me' spell and took lead with the map, Ramona threw rocks ahead to check for the upcoming trap's location, Neville lit the way for them and Kevin had complex defensive spells he maintained around them. Nothing bigger than a flea would be able to get to them.

The valley was quiet and misty, the only sound being their footsteps and the occasional breeze through the trees.

"There are about three traps down the valley we'll need to avoid," Ron reported to the group. He wanted to keep Neville and Kevin off their brooms as long as possible. Both were strong and competent wizards on the ground, but on brooms they were as useless as a flobberworm on a moped. If the traps ahead were anything akin to the onslaught at the lake, he'd need them in top form. "We have some time until we get to the first one, I reckon."

"Since we have some time, let's get to know one another. How about name and what you've been up to since graduation?" said Neville with a kind smile. He made it seem like a social hour invitation, but Ron had a feeling he was probing for more useful information on Kevin and Ramona.

"I'm Kevin Gunther." He gave a little salute to the group. "Er… I graduated from Hogwarts in '95, and worked at the Coastal Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. We mostly do defensive border control and deal with customs. Considered leaving when the Ministry fell, but my position made it easy to help Muggleborns escape, so I stayed."

So that explained the advanced Defensive work.

"I'm Neville Longbottom. Haven't graduated from Hogwarts, technically. I'm a terrible flyer, alright with D.A.D.A., but Herbology is my strong suit." He definitely was underselling himself and what he'd been up to during the war. "What about you, Ramona?"

She gave them a baleful look and threw a rock before capitulating.

"Ramona Higgins. Graduated in '97. I'm an adequate flyer when not injured. I'm best at engineering spells, but I'm good at duelling too. I was head of the duelling club in my house."

"What house?" asked Ron.

"Hufflepuff."

Huh. Ron would've pegged her for a Slytherin given how salty she was, but then again he'd known a few loathsome Hufflepuffs over the years.

"What did you do after you graduated?" asked Neville.

Ramona's somewhat open expression shuttered. "Survived."

The three Wizards nodded. Ron knew better than to poke, despite how curious he was. Who knows what sort of horrors anyone could have seen in the last year.

"What about you, Ron?" asked Kevin.

"Oh! Er… I'm just another Weasley," he said, feeling his cheeks burn. Despite knowing the general things he was supposed to say his mind was going spectacularly blank. "Didn't go to school last year at all, so… Yeah never graduated…"

"Is there anything you're good at?" asked Ramona, throwing another rock. The look on her face clearly told him she thought the answer was no.

"I dunno… I'm good at chess and I'm a pretty good flyer."

"Pretty good?" Kevin snorted. "You should have seen those moves you pulled back there. Bet you were ace if you played Quidditch."

"I saw his games. He wasn't," Ramona supplied.

"He was," Neville corrected, tone light but with an undercurrent of steeliness. "He basically won the House cup for us in our 5th year and was responsible for most of our wins in 6th year too."

"Even if he finally managed to eke out some wins, chess and being a good flyer will only get one so far," Ramona snarked.

"If it weren't for Ron's flying and quick thinking you'd still be in that lake," replied Neville.

"I would have figured something out. I wasn't sitting and waiting for help from him!"

Neville opened his mouth to reply but Ron put up a hand. "Is there a particular reason you hate my guts so much?"

Ramona turned her nose up. "I don't feel anything about you."

"Well that's obviously not true," Ron snorted. "What have I ever done to you?"

"Oh you've never done a thing to or for me!" Ramona spat, before bringing the broom to a halt. "The map!"

She pointed and sure enough they were right below one of the golden dots. Shit… The quartet came to a halt and listened. Nothing was there except mist. Slowly all wands raised higher into the air.

"Maybe it won't be triggered by us walking by," said Kevin, looking around them.

"Maybe…" said Ron, feeling a chill pass through him. If he hadn't been distracted he might have felt the magic pulsing and pressing against him. His arms began to ache. Everything did. Even his lungs.

Kevin gave a cough, followed by Neville and Ramona. Finally Ron felt his own lungs spasm.

"We should— " Cough. "Hurry through," he wheezed, voice gravelly. His body suddenly felt heavy and his eyesight foggy. Ramona had a deep attack of coughs and hunched over on the broom. "Ramona, I'll fly."

She turned her face to him and Ron retreated back a few paces.

Her once young face had fallen and sunk into a wizened husk. Her skin was sagged and leathery. She looked as if she'd aged a hundred years.

He reached towards the broom but his hand could barely clutch it. His hands withered before his eyes, becoming age-spotted and stiff. The veins were like gnarled roots and his knuckles more resembled the elder wand than fingers.

Panicked he turned and saw Neville and Kevin were just as affected by whatever spell this was. Both were stooping. The fat in their cheeks and around their orbital bones hollowed. Their skin thinned and wrinkled, and their muscles were wasting away, making their clothes billow around them.

"Fly!" Ron croaked.

The old men slowly mounted their brooms and took off. Ron struggled to lift his leg high enough to mount his. He stiffly pushed off and felt his hip ache at the sudden action. He steered the broom as best he could, hitting a few branches he swore hadn't been there as Ramona's crackled old voice gave a complaint he couldn't properly hear. His eyesight was so blurred his long nose rubbed the map as he held it close enough to see. With great difficulty he found a spot on the map without any glowing dots.

Upon landing he kept the broom floating for Ramona. If her joints and bones were anything like his, she wouldn't be able to take a step off that broom with her hurt ankle. His back ached and his hip nearly gave out as he fumbled his way off the broom. His bad arm lost most of its mobility. He kept it clutched to his middle as it burned and throbbed.

"We can't do shit in this state" he wheezed.

Not wanting to risk an actual hip break Ron conjured some chairs for them to sit on and a mirror to inspect himself as well as he could, given his now blurry eyesight.

"Oh fuck," he muttered, seeing his aged face. At least he had his hair. He looked a bit like if Aunt Muriel and Dumbledore had an ancient baby— which was quite frankly a terrifying thought. He'd grown a short white beard and had wrinkles everywhere he could see. His face was thin and he looked decrepit as a mummy he'd seen in Egypt.

Neville had a friendly Santa-ish sort of look to him, while Kevin looked craggy and leathery. Ramona's sulky face didn't age well and looked very much like a crone Ron had seen in a comic book once.

"Lord, my feet ache," Kevin moaned.

"Makes me appreciate how spry my gran is, given her age," said Neville, trying to stretch his back and failing miserably.

Hopefully they could solve this before Hermione saw him again. It was one thing to grow old with someone, but another entirely to see a preview of what their old selves would be like. What if she opted out? What if he was stuck as an old man the rest of his life? Okay, that was stupid… They wouldn't curse any of them permanently. But enough to have to sit out of the rest of the C.R.E.? Yeah, he could see that demented Musaad doing something like this.

Ron was distracted from his disturbing reflection by Nevile kneeling to the ground and giving a small cry of, "Argh, my knees!"

"Nev, you okay?"

"Yes," Neville said, crooked hands patting the ground. "I can't see it well, but are these Droseras?"

"Do you have dementia?" Ron asked, stooping to help his friend up.

"No!" Neville laughed, waving Ron away and putting his face next to the ground. "No… I think these are Droseras… A sort of Sundew. It's a plant used for elixirs, including alchemical ones… Supposedly they're an ingredient for a certain magical item you went after in first year."

"The Philosopher's Stone?" Ron asked, stooping down to look at the strange little plants. Even with his wand lit and nose practically touching them, it was difficult to see them. What he could make out of them was green little blurs.

Ramona, still on her broom, hovered nearby. "You went after a Philosoph—"

"Not now," Ron hissed. "Is it normal for Dro-whatchamacallits to be growing in a forest like this?"

"It's not unheard of, but they normally grow in bogs. It's crazy lucky for us to come across them in a forest like this."

"I doubt it's luck," said Ron. This had to be part of the exam.

Neville squinted at the plants. "Drat! I need glasses. I can't see this well enough to tell."

"Here," Kevin said, bringing out a pair of glasses. "They're my readers. I brought them in case I needed them."

"Good man," said Neville, taking the pair and balancing them on his now ruddy and much more substantial nose. "Ah hah! These are Drosera rotundifolia! We can make a little compound with these— it has healing properties and can probably counteract whatever this ageing spell is. Might be a tasty tea!"

With some clever spell work by Ramona they had a mortar and pestle available, and Kevin produced a rather dainty tea set. Neville dehydrated the plants and Ron made a fire for them to brew.

"Is it ready yet?" Ramona asked after they'd watched the pot for an excruciating half hour.

"Not yet. Another fifteen or so, probably, for it to break down," Neville said, checking inside the pot.

"Do you think this is what we'll actually look like when we're old?" Kevin asked, frowning into the conjured mirror.

"If we lived another hundred fifty years or so, maybe," Ron said, not willing to look in the mirror again.

"You look like a short-bearded, straight nosed Dumbledore. That's not too bad," said Kevin, poking his flabby cheeks. "I look awful."

Ron didn't say it, but Kevin looked a bit like a shaved boarhound mixed with an apple that had been left in the cupboard too long.

As the concoction brewed, Ramona hovered on her broom near Neville. "Is it ready yet?" she asked for a fifth time.

"Almost," he said, waving his wand over the tea pot then pouring it out into the cups.

Ron gave it a sniff and felt his gut quiver at the weird smell. "Drink it in one swallow. I doubt it'll taste good."

The four took their cups, Kevin, Neville and Ron clinking them together, and then all four of them downed it. It tasted a bit like dandelion. Not too bad.

They stared at one another, breaths bated. An aftertaste of bitter rotting lettuce started to settle on Ron's tongue. He nearly gagged at the taste. Throwing up would most likely keep the tea from working, so Ron forced his stomach to keep everything in place.

Kevin was unable to do the same, and vomited in a nearby shrub.

"Keep it down. If it's going to work you need to keep it down," Neville said, patting Kevin's back and offering another cup, but the larger man promptly threw that one up too.

It didn't feel like the brew was doing a thing. Ron was about to say so when he realised his hips and back weren't aching so badly.

He stepped over the conjured mirror, with much greater ease than before, and stooped to find he no longer looked an ancient two hundred years! The deepest wrinkles were slowly flattening as if an army of tiny elves were ironing them out under his skin. He still looked older though— maybe thirty or fortyish. He had a tough, dare he think it, almost dashing look to him with the red beard and uniform. He found he didn't mind this look. Maybe Hermione getting a look at this would be a good thing. He looked way less gangly than he normally did. It was a bit like looking into the Mirror of Erised. He stroked the beard into place.

Realising he'd been preening a bit too long, he stepped back. Neville looked the same 'age' as Ron, and carried himself well with broad shoulders and a wise look to his ruddy face. Ramona still was a dour thing, but now she looked a powerful and sturdy forty. Kevin didn't look as young as they. He'd managed to absorb some of the tea, but looked a hardy eighty or so years old.

"Shall we have another brew?" asked Neville.

"That took ages," said Ramona, flexing her foot. "Though I think it might have healed my ankle most of the way… Is it possible to just chew on the herb or something?"

"It needs to be brewed for the nutrients to properly break down," said Neville, looking to Kevin. "Do you feel well enough to move on?"

Kevin did a few squats and waved his wand through the air. "It's not that bad. I feel a touch stiff, but other than that, I feel okay."

"Glad you're spry," grinned Ron. "Why don't you and Neville get some more of that plant while Ramona and I look at her ankle."

The pair nodded and began gathering plants while Ron gestured to the chair and had her sit. She looked unhappy about it, but undid the laces of her boot and offered her foot to Ron. Unbandaged, her limb looked significantly less swollen than before and the bruising was a sickly green of a days old bruise.

"We have to finish this C.R.E. smoothly," Ron said, testing her ankle at a variety of angles. "We walked into that trap because we were distracted. Whatever it is you have against me, you need to table it until after."

"I don't have anything against—"

"Don't fucking lie, Ramona," Ron said, inadvertently squeezing her ankle too hard, making her wince. He was about to apologise, but stopped himself. Maybe a play of intimidation would work with her. Being nice and even saving her from drowning hadn't worked. He looked a bit tougher with the beard and could put on a show if he had to. "You want to pass this exam. I want to pass this exam. So far our wants are aligned."

He conjured a new bandage and began to hand-tie it.

"I saved your arse before, but I won't save your arse again if you can't be a true team player. If all you are is a distraction… well… I play chess." He pulled the bandage tight. "Sometimes a few sacrifices are necessary."

He looked up at her through his eyebrows, weighing if the ruse had worked.

She glared back at him, but he could just see a bit of fear in her eyes. Good.

"We have a few of the plants steeping in some insulated flasks," Neville called out to them.

"Great!" Ron said, giving a broad smile he dropped the moment he turned around. "Isn't that great, Ramona?"

Ramona nervously nodded. "Yeah… Yeah… Good job, everyone."

Kevin gave a smile and a wrinkly thumbs up, while Neville looked between the two, obviously curious at the change in Ramona's attitude.

They prepared to fly when Kevin gave a little moan as he mounted the broom.

"What's up?" asked Ron.

"My hips are all old-man sore… I already suck at flying… This is going to make me even worse."

Ron felt his annoyance spike, but bit his lip to keep from cursing. Could anything else go wrong? He was fucking luckless.

"How about you ride with me, then. Ramona, your ankle is mostly better. Why don't you have a broom to yourself?"

"Okay... Thank you."

Neville's expression went from curious to all out suspicious. He frowned at Ron, quirking his head in question.

'Later,' Ron mouthed, barely containing a triumphant smile.

Without Ramona's attitude to distract him, it was a lot easier to navigate them well around any of the traps. He was able to adjust the map and scale it properly after the run in with the ageing spell.

After a good forty five minutes of flying they landed at the base. Half his team looked poorly. Kevin looked ancient and worn out, while Ramona limped as soon as she landed.

"Harry will send a signal when he's in place," Ron told them. Soon Harry would come with his Patronus to save the day and the burden of leadership wouldn't be on Ron anymore. He was exhausted, his arm still smarted like a bad sunburn, and he positively ached for a nap.

Bossing people about was not something he enjoyed or was used to. Even as a Prefect he'd wriggled out of most leadership opportunities. Collaborating, sure, he quite liked that. But leading?

On this mission he'd had to be in charge the whole time, an experience he'd only had a few times in his life. In all the action he'd seen over the years other people took charge most of the time.

Harry was a natural leader, and Hermione was smart and outspoken. Between the two of them it left little he needed to say or decide. He would just do what needed to be done and add in his two knuts when they'd run out of ideas… He stepped up when no one else could, but leadership expectations felt strange and daunting. It was like trying on jeans that were too tight but the legs were too long.

"What should we do until then?" asked Kevin.

Ron let out an involuntary moan. He just wanted a moment where he didn't need to have answers… Ron hesitated and looked about him trying to come up with inspiration, but felt completely without solutions.

"Maybe we should scout a bit? Make sure we know what we're up against?" suggested Neville.

Ron gave him a grateful nod. "Nev and I can scout while you two heal up. As soon as that potion's ready, try to down more, Kevin. And Ramona, ice your ankle and elevate it."

Neither argued with him. He was used to people arguing with him, ignoring him or just doubting… It all felt wrong… He was tired and would rather have to argue to be heard than have the stage all the time.

Ron and Neville carefully walked the perimeter of the tree line. He did the Captionem Deprehensio spell again and there seemed to be no hidden spells.

There wasn't much to see of the base except its wooden back fence. The buildings were low and simply made timber structures, a contrast to the large hill of forest behind it. There was no sign of Bot, life, or the flag they needed to capture.

"So… Ramona has been surprisingly obliging recently…" Neville said as he carefully stepped over a fallen tree limb.

Ron smiled, but hesitated. Harry usually approved of more ruthless tactics, but Neville he wasn't too sure of.

"I… might've mildly threatened her…"

"Mildly threatened?"

"Made a veiled threat that I'd take her out if she couldn't be a good teammate."

Neville's eyebrows shot up, before a smile began to creep onto his face. "Bold move, Weasley."

"Hey, I tried everything else!"

"You did," Neville assured him. "I just don't get why she seems to loathe you so much."

"Maybe I just have a loathable face."

"She didn't seem fond of Harry either. Do you know her?"

Ron couldn't recall seeing her before Auror exams. He'd done plenty to make people mad over the years, but those people were nearly all Death Eaters and their kids… If she was a Hufflepuff and going out for Auror a Deatheater connection was unlikely. Neville agreed as they speculated.

"Maybe it was something I did or didn't do in the war," Ron said. "She said I'd 'never done anything to or for her'?"

"What could it be?"

"Search me... She's about as forthcoming as a barnacle about it." Ron looked to the hill. Where the fuck was Harry? "Let's get back to the others."

Shrouded in the cover of the trees the quartet waited for Harry's Patronus to come. As they waited they sipped at the rancid sundew concoction. Slowly the group de-aged until they all looked like they were in their mid twenties, with the exception of Kevin, who, after failing to keep down much of the sundew, looked like a middle-aged man.

The edges of dawn had just begun to change the sky, and a gentle breeze blew, but Harry's Patronus had yet to arrive.

"Do you think he's okay?" Kevin asked.

"He's fine," clipped Ron, more to reassure himself than anyone else.

"Maybe you misheard and we should be the ones sending a signal," said Ramona.

Ron grit his teeth. He hadn't misheard. But something could be wrong…

"I'll send a signal," said Ron, feeling his stomach lurch.

He had not attempted a Patronus in over a month, and that one had flickered and failed.

The time before that had been the night he left Harry and Hermione… He had been able to cast a Patronus, but that led to the Snatchers spotting him.

"Ron?" Neville asked.

He could feel dark thoughts clouding his mind and horrid memories fighting to take him over.

"Yeah, give us a sec."

Ron took a deep breath and let his thoughts turn inward.

'Okay… think it out…. The last times circumstances were different. We were in a war… we aren't in one now. There were Dementors before… there isn't even one Dementor now. There were dangerous wizards about and I was alone… Now there is no one real and I am not alone… I am not alone…'

He let the breath out.

Okay… he could do this.

All he had to do was picture something that made him perfectly happy. That should be easy enough.

It took a moment to reorient himself, but logically he knew he had so many happy memories to choose from. His finest memories almost all held Hermione.

The hardest part was picking one memory in particular. His mind was a jumble of smiles and laughs, kisses and touches, hugs and perfect incandescent moments. Combing out one moment felt impossible. Could he concentrate on just her? And the fact that she was his? And the fact that he was hers and he wasn't alone?

Probably not. And he didn't want some flimsy Patronus attempt in front of the others… No, he needed a good one… It took a moment before he thought of a day that could work… Maybe… It was sad at times, but the happy parts… they were something special.

It had been the worst day of his life. His brother was dead. So many people he knew were dead. His family felt shattered. He felt shattered and unable to take a deep enough breath. He'd taken a shower where a million little cuts and burns branded into his skin stung. As he walked out he saw Hermione sitting on his bed. He hadn't expected her, but there she sat. Her hair was still wet and hanging in uneven strands. It looked like she'd shorn off pieces of it. Given how singed she was after the battle, it made sense. She was on his bed in one of his jumpers biting her lip unsurely.

"I wasn't sure if it was… I didn't know if you wanted to be alone or not, but it's been so long since we've slept more than ten feet away from each other and it felt odd trying to fall asleep in my old dorm room knowing you are so far away."

She suddenly sprung from the bed, "But I can go if you prefer your privacy. We would be getting back to how we used to do things, and maybe that's best after everything, because—" She stopped her babbling as Ron gently placed a finger on her lips.

"Stay," he said, giving her a bit of a smile. It was probably feeble and unpleasant, but she unsurely smiled back.

"I don't have to…" she murmured, his finger still resting near her bottom lip. Her bottom lip that he'd gotten to kiss earlier. Her bottom lip that positively called for him to kiss it again.

He settled for leaning in and kissing her cheek. "Stay."

"Are you sure?"

He leaned down further and kissed just below her ear. "Stay."

Relief flickered across her face, and the ghost of a blush grew across her cheeks; a blush he'd put there. Her relief perfectly mirrored his feeling of having her near, and her blush reflected a growing heat in his own cheeks.

"I'll stay," she said, looking at his lips.

"Good."

And then they kissed. It was intimate, but pure, hot, but restrained, filled with a raw feeling of connection he'd never imagined a simple kiss could embody. He had so many emotions threatening to bludgeon him, but just being alive and knowing Hermione wanted and needed him as much as he did her… It somehow made him feel he could breathe underwater and weather anything.

Then his eyes filled with tears and he had to look away and swipe them. Why the bloody hell he was wanting to cry during a kiss he had no idea… He wasn't even thinking about anything sad.

She understood somehow, because she put her lithe little hand beside his cheek and nodded before leading him by the hand to the bed. She fluffed the pillow, tucked him into bed, grabbed another pillow and curled up right beside him, stroking his hair and idly talking about Hogwarts a History.

"Some day I'll read it for you," he yawned, turning into her touch.

"You don't have to… I can always tell you the best parts."

"Hermione Granger offering to let me skip a reading?"

"Ron Weasley offering to read a giant book?"

He laughed and leaned up again to kiss her and she curled around him. Though they were in bed with one another for the first time with no one else about, there was no tension.

"We made it out okay," he said before yawning into her hair.

"Mmhmm," she hummed against his neck. "Together."

They were okay and for the first time in a year he dozed off feeling safe.

"Expecto Patronum," he said. His wand lit and his Jack Russell terrier Patronus burst forth, mutely yapping and scurrying around his feet. Thank Merlin, he'd been able to do it.

"Find Harry," he told it, wishing he'd learned to make his Patronus talk. With a flick of his wand the terrier took off at a blistering pace, scrabbling off into the distance.

He could hear spells of explosions following it.

"Fuck! Bots!" He'd absolutely forgotten about them. They were following his Patronus like they'd followed his conjured birds and dirt clods at the lake. He could only hope he'd not sent Bots raining down on Harry and his team.

He couldn't see the Bots, but could see the debris and dust left behind from their spells trailing on the wind.

At least Harry's team had the side of the valley protecting them. Aiming spells up the hill would be difficult for the Bots.

The spells stopped after a short time, so either his Patronus outstripped the Bots, or the Bots moved fast enough to chase it down far enough into the distance he couldn't hear the spells… Merlin, he hoped for the former.

They waited with bated breath, then heard the spells begin again. Was that Harry?

"He must be signalling back," said Kevin with a smile.

"He's using a Patronus too?" asked Ramona.

Ron nodded, then cursed as he and Ramona thought the same thing.

"They're coming this way!" she hissed.

"Put up a shield!" he hollered to the group.

Ramona, Ron and Kevin conjured shields as Neville sliced his wand at a tree. The gargantuan fir gave a groan before falling in front of them, small needles and dirt flying up.

A moment later the spells struck the earth near them. He couldn't check for the Patronus without risking tree shrapnel to the face.

The telltale glow of a Patronus burst through the tree, but his relief withered and fell out the bottom of his stomach.

The Patronus was a kestrel, not a stag.

He could feel Neville's eyes on him.

Ron took a broken bit of bark from the tree and made it glow before Leviosa-ing it deeper into the camp. The spells followed.

"That wasn't Harry's," whispered Neville.

"I know," Ron moaned. This made their plan for victory feel even more tenuous. They might not have Harry at all. Who knew how much of Harry's team has made it through?

His arm hurt. His mind was flayed. His energy was flagging.

"Okay…" said Ron trying to cobble together a plan. "We'll make more of our own dummies from this tree to distract the Bots."

He severed the felled tree in a few places.

"Should we make mist again for cover?" asked Neville.

Ron shook his head. "Sun's coming up and there's too much wind. It would dissipate in seconds."

He did a few spells on the large bits of tree.

"Anyone good at Disillusionment spells on people?" asked Neville.

The group shook their heads.

"We'll have to go in with good defence and hope these dummies distract them enough," said Ron, doing the last touches to the nearest log-turned-battle-dummy. "Kevin, you're best at defence. When we move forward, do your strongest shield. Stay on foot— your spells are at your best when you're on the ground."

Kevin gave a nod.

"Neville, you're good at offensive spells. You'll cover Ramona and I from behind the shield."

"I'll stay on foot too," Neville added, shrinking his broom down.

"And Ramona and I will fly. We'll be beside you with offensive spells. When we see our opportunity we'll fly in, spells blaring, to get that flag."

The unspoken problem was how on earth could he manage to find an opportunity?

They finished creating dummies from the felled trees and sent them to the east and west, away from both them and the forest. The sound of Bot spells trailed in their wake.

The quartet arranged themselves at the back gate and moved forward. Despite the adrenaline pumping through him, Ron could feel the underlying fatigue pulling at him.

The base's buildings were all empty, with no sign of Bot or other enchantment.

Ron did another check, and reported there were no hidden spells or enchantments.

"Thank Merlin," Neville said, stepping forward and tripping a bit. "What the—?"

Wrapped around his boot was a piece of wire, barely thicker than a thread.

The group looked in puzzlement before a large red flare burst above them.

"I thought there were no traps!" cried Kevin.

"No wizard traps! This is Muggle," said Ramona. "It was a tripwire for the flare."

The flare did nothing particularly menacing in and of itself; all it did was hover and glow. The ensuing explosions brought by the silent call echoed through the valley and made the ground shake.

"Get against the building!" Kevin shouted at them. They quickly put their backs to the building, while Kevin strengthened their shield. "You can shoot around the sides, but nothing can get through the shield itself."

For the first time Ron was able to see the Bots without a cloak of darkness or debris to hide them. There were dozens of them, their bulbous bodies able to magically hover high and fast. They didn't have faces, just cavernous holes that would shift and twist on the end of a plated articulating neck. Hideous and massive, they were shaped like an armoured spider-tick with six jagged mechanical arms holding wands, all aimed right at his team.

Spells split the ground and hit the defensive shield with a sharp crack of splintered light.

Kevin's barrier held, surprisingly impenetrable despite the amount of spells striking and fracturing around them.

Ron, Ramona and Neville threw a battery of spells. They hit Bots in the face and body again and again, but nothing got through. There were no openings to fly through.

A small movement up the hill caught his eye— there were three dots flying down the hill. Harry and the others!

"THEY'RE OKAY!" shouted Neville.

They might just make it out of this with everyone unharmed and passing this hellish exam.

They just needed to distract the Bots long enough for Harry to get the flag. He flew with speed towards the flag, but spells were just as heavy for Harry's team as Ron's, and they quickly retreated back.

"WE NEED TO DO SOMETHING TO STOP SOME OF THE BOTS!" Ron screamed over the den of spells.

"NOTHING'S GETTING THROUGH!" Neville yelled back.

Ramona did a large sweep of her wand and suddenly the noise died down to a muffled series of thuds that more resembled the sounds of his ghoul than a barrage of explosions.

"Nice," he said, despite himself.

"I just wish I'd thought of it earlier," she said, putting her hands over her ears and massaging.

"They have to have some weakness," said Ron, "y'know, besides shiny objects."

"Well we need to hurry up and find it. I don't know how much longer Kevin can keep this shield up."

Kevin held the barrier with gritted teeth, his forearms flexed and straining.

"Okay… The Bots have defensive shields protecting them, but somehow they keep getting spells through," said Ron, aiming another spell around their own shield.

"Is it even possible to have a shield work both ways?" Neville asked Kevin, whose wand arm was shaking.

"No, there has to be a hole," Kevin gritted out, tossing his sweaty fringe out of his eyes.

Ramona watched the Bots before her eyebrows shot up. "Their wands are getting through! Maybe if we aim down their arms we can get our own spells in."

She pointed at the nearest Bot. "Look there— where their arms attach to the body? There's a tiny gap that opens up into the body of the Bot. If you shoot straight down the arm a spell could get in there and cause some damage!"

Ron watched and sure enough he could see it, a gap no wider than a few fingers showed when they raised their plated arms. It was a tiny, nearly impossible target.

"Aim near the base of their arms."

"Brilliant," Ron grunted, carefully aligning his wand.

He waited until a Bot raised its wand high, then took his shot, aiming a precise explosive spell under the arm. A plume of smoke and scattered Bot-parts signalled his success.

"Fuck me, he hit it!" Kevin laughed.

"It worked!" Ramona crowed, looking pleased for the first time in the exam. She and Neville took aim, and though their shots weren't nearly as accurate as Ron's, they too eventually found some successes, temporarily stunning the Bots.

As more and more Bots became disabled, Harry's group began to descend down the hill again.

Ron grinned watching his friend fly fast as a sparrow down the hill, clearing past trees, glasses glinting as the sun crested the horizon. Harry was going to win it for them. He was near to the flag, his arm outstretched and ready to swipe it.

Then a series of flares went off around the flag.

The remaining Bots abandoned Ron's team and immediately hurled themselves towards the flag. Claudia and Vyse were driven back up the hill while Harry flew into a building.

"No no no, over here!" Ron shouted at the Bots. "OVER HERE YOU STUPID FUCKING THINGS!"

Ron threw debris and spells, he even hovered a flaming piece of tree roughly the size of a centaur, but nothing brought the Bots back towards them. They stayed glued to the flag and began ignoring everything, until there was a movement up the hill.

Claudia and Vyse had begun their descent again and the Bots immediately lobbed spells their way.

Ron aimed a flock of birds to distract them, but they ignored it and only sought the movements of recruits.

The Bots had gotten smarter.

"There are only about seven Bots left. If we pick enough of them off then one of us can get in there," said Ramona.

"We can't aim from here, we need to get closer…" said Ron, staring ahead to the wide open space leading up to the flag. There was no cover at all, and Kevin was scarlet and sweat drenched from the strain of keeping their shield up so long.

Though he was some distance away Ron caught Harry's eye and gave a large shrug. His best friend shook his head in return. Harry didn't know what to do, and neither did Ron.

"What do we do now?" Ramona asked no one in particular. The other two looked to Ron.

Ron ignored their eyes and stared at the ground.

Harry didn't have an opening… Kevin was throttled… Neville couldn't fly to get close… that left Ron and Ramona… The Bots weren't moving from anything just wandering by now. They were smarter and hunting down people…

"Someone needs to serve as a distraction and fly in there… When the Bots are distracted someone else can grab the flag."

Kevin stared at Ron aghast. "Whoever does that is Bot-fodder!"

Neville gave a sigh before putting up a hand. "I can do it."

"Sorry mate, you're not fast enough," Ron replied. "It has to be someone fast enough to lead them away and not get hit for at least a minute or two. This fucking test won't end until at least one of us has won the flag, or all of us have lost…So…" he shrugged.

"So you're saying there isn't a way to do this without losing someone…" said Ramona.

"If the flag is swiped quickly, maybe everyone can pass…" Ron replied, giving Ramona a sardonic smile. "But sometimes sacrifices have to be made."

"No way!" Ramona hissed. "I won't do it! You can't make me fail my exam!"

"You're a fast flyer," said Ron, mounting his broom.

Did he have the guts to do it? To make that sort of sacrifice?

"I won't do it!" she screeched.

There were two other exams, after all.

"Failing one won't get you kicked out of the program," Ron muttered, looking at the Bots and then across the empty yard to Harry. He signalled him to be prepared, and Harry nodded, readying himself on his broom.

His arm ached. His palms were wet with perspiration. His gut was clenched. He needed to do this quickly, like ripping off a plaster.

"Kevin, get them close. Neville, aim well and hit hard. And Ramona," said Ron with a sigh. "Get the flag fast."

"Wait, Ron, maybe you don't—"

Whatever Neville was going to say was left behind as Ron flew full force ahead towards the Bots.

He'd been the sacrifice before and he could do it again.

The Bots turned their blank pitch black voids for faces towards him. Their arms all aimed his way.

The ground split below him as he flew. Dirt and smoke threatened to choke him as the bombardment slammed down around him. He barely avoided the blasts and his arm ached at the tight manoeuvres as he weaved and bobbed around the spells.

He needed to find elevation, and fast.

With a giant pull that painfully snapped his neck back, he was in the air. Higher and higher he flew, with spells rushing by him. He could hear the metal and wood unpleasantly scrapping one another just behind him; the Bots were following him.

He was so high his ears popped, but he couldn't dare look back to see the Bots on his tail or if his team was doing what he asked of them. One backward glance could end him. He wished he could see Harry or Ramona's moment of victory, or feel that moment of victory with them.

All he could see was spells hurtling past him into the light orange sky. All he could feel was the slam of his momentum sharply stopping.

His arm twisted unpleasantly before cracking and whipping in a painfully wrong angle as his broom shattered. His wand twirled away from him, far from his grasp.

He was falling.

His legs kicked uselessly. His body flailed at nothing as he plummeted.

He couldn't catch a breath as he spun and tumbled, vision reduced to dizzying streaks of brown and orange.

He tried to remain calm as the earth loomed closer. Any second and he would be Port-keyed back to base by the vest and be told he'd failed the exam.

But the vest didn't do anything. The familiar pull of a portkey didn't come. He was falling to his death and nothing was stopping it.

The ground was getting closer and closer.

The small dots of Harry and Ramona flying towards the flag were rapidly coming into focus.

He was wandless and could do nothing but watch as the ground sped up towards him, every blade of grass and rock zooming larger and larger.

He thought of his family's laughs, and Harry's smile, and Hermione's everything before he slammed his eyes shut and felt himself twist and suddenly pull. His back hit something solid and all the wind was knocked out of him.

He gasped for air that wouldn't come and opened his eyes to see the sunny blue of the training pitch and Musaad and Sealy-Pearce standing over him.

"Episkey," said Selay-Pearce with a painful poke at his arm. There was a terrible crunching sound and a sharp pain as the bones snapped back into place. She did some other spells to his arm as he fruitlessly attempted to catch air in his lungs.

"Ventus Saeptum," Musaad encanted over Ron's stomach. His frozen diaphragm suddenly worked and he gasped and panted trying to find a rhythm for his lungs. "Take a few slow breaths."

Ron did what he could to slow down his breathing. He tried to just feel the grass against the back of his head and take in his surroundings.

Theold was lounging in a nearby chair, while Sealy-Pearce and Musaad stood nearby Ron, looking down in concern.

He'd been falling. He'd thought he was going to slam into the earth and fucking die. And that fucking weirdo Musaad had let it happen.

"What the fuck!?" Ron managed, before pushing himself up with his right arm. He didn't bother with the left; he could feel it struggling to even flex.

The practice pitch was merry with little dandelions swaying around him. With the clawing rage working its way through Ron he swatted a few of the stupid flowers away. "Why didn't the vest get me back sooner?!"

"It only brings you back if you're hit with something that would kill or incapacitate you— The Bot hit your broom, not you, so in this case, the ground was the incapacitating hit," reported Sealy-Pearce.

"Well- well that's fucked up! This whole thing was fucked up!"

"Amen!" said Theold from his nearby chair.

"Oh don't you fucking start!" Ron yelled, looking about for his wand. He ignored Musaad's proffered hand and stood up on his own.

"Where the fuck is my fucking—!"

As if summoned by his question, a Bot popped out of nowhere and politely offered him his wand back. Ron snatched it back before stomping off a few feet and kicking a dandelion head off its stalk.

"Do you need any pain relieving spells or a Healer?" asked Sealy-Pearce.

"No," Ron rumbled, without thinking.

"Then are you ready for the report of your performance?" she asked, coming closer.

"I know how I did!" Ron growled, closing his eyes tight. His anger was starting to fracture and he could feel the horrid sensation of tears starting to sting his eyes. He'd failed. After everything, he'd given it up. Hopefully not in vain. "How did the team do? Did they get the flag?"

"Ramona Higgins got the flag a moment ago," said Sealy-Pearce, pointing to a series of floating mirror-like frames he hadn't noticed. They showed different views of each recruit celebrating as the Bots' arms lowered and the team swarmed a smug looking Ramona to congratulate her for getting the flag.

"Good for her," said Ron, trying to will himself to feel fully happy for them. He almost did. They all were hugging and bouncing up and down and he had helped them with that, at least at the end. They were okay. They'd made it through.

"This way," said Musaad, motioning Ron towards the door, making him tear his eyes away from the people who had actually passed the exam.

He followed Musaad to the locker room. While behind him and out of sight he uselessly tried to flex his left arm Sealy-Pearce had healed. It was numb and the fingers didn't want to do anything, so he let it hang.

"So… can I go and take a shower now?" asked Ron, hoping to wash the stink and defeat off in peace and perhaps massage his arm to get it working again.

"Not yet," said Musaad, the sadist.

He motioned Ron over to a small flimsy looking table, where a variety of quills were filling scrolls of parchment. Some were filling out a spreadsheet with numbers and symbols that meant nothing to Ron. Another quill was finishing up a set of lines on a map, and another few were finishing up long paragraphs of writing. As the purple quill finished dotting a few I's, Musaad grabbed the parchment out from under it. The quill gave an offended few stabs at Musaad before a new parchment flew into place and it continued writing.

Musaad rolled through the scroll before stopping it and handing it to Ron.

He took the scroll and began to read the blue ink;

Weasley: Don't fucking lie, Ramona.

Weasley squeezes Higgins ankle.

Weasley: You want to pass this exam. I want to pass this exam. So far our wants are aligned

Weasley bandages Higgins ankle

Weasley: I saved your arse before, but I won't save your arse again if you can't be a true team player. If all you are is a distraction… well… I play chess… Sometimes a few sacrifices are necessary.

Ron felt his stomach drop somewhere around his bollocks.

"Do you normally threaten people to get people to comply?" asked Musaad, carefully studying Ron's mortified and quickly reddening face.

"Erm… No sir. I didn't mean that, of course, but I just thought if she thought I was that maybe…" his voice trailed off.

"You did what you must to ensure a fellow recruit performed," said Musaad with a nod. "I was impressed by it all, Weasley. The intuition, the plans, the leadership, the flying, your sacrifice…"

He picked up the spreadsheet, having to wave off the quill trying to write a touch more on it. "Great scores across the board. You took my advice from last exam; you didn't let your nerves stop you and went all out."

Musaad gave the parchment another look before something like a grin began to form on his face. "A most excellent job."

"But I didn't pass…" Ron mumbled, looking down to his mud covered shoes.

"Are your ears made of cloth?" asked Musaad, voice sharp.

Ron looked up, startled.

"This exam was to measure flying skills and resilience, see how you work with others and see how you react in the field under battlefare conditions. You were beyond proficient and were highly effective in every measurable category."

"But I didn't make it to the end."

"I said that would be the end of the C.R.E. for you, not that it would lead to a failed exam. You passed with flying colours," said Musaad, giving Ron a stout look.

"I passed," Ron breathed out, feeling boneless and woozy.

"Keep it up, recruit," said Musaad, giving him a small punch to the chest before heading back to the door. "You can take your shower now."

Ron vaguely nodded as he numbly walked into the shower and let the water soak him, clothes and all. He'd done it. With a groan he let himself slide down the wall.

With some massaging and hot water his arm finally listened to him. Everything from his scalp to his toenails ached. Maybe he should have taken up Sealy-Pearce on the pain relieving spells.

"Ron?" he heard Harry's voice.

"Harry!" Ron called back, feeling a grin split his face.

His friend poked his head in and the two smiled at one another.

"Normally you take off the clothes and then shower.," teased Harry.

"Normally you take an exam and the most you deal with is ink under your fingernails," Ron groaned, forcing himself to a stand.

Harry laughed and slid across the shower tiles to give Ron a hug. "We did it!"

"Yes we fucking did!" Ron laughed back. "That was fucking brutal."

"Yeah… yeah it was." Harry gave a grimace. "You alright? That was some mad moves you pulled!"

"M'fine," Ron said with a wave of his wand to dry himself. "How'd it go with your team?"

"Not the best," Harry said without expanding on it. Ron would have to ask about Harry's lack of Patronus once they got home.

"Well, I got to find out what I'll look like at the ripe old age of five hundred, so that was horrific. Nearly as bad as dealing with Ramona!"

"I can imagine," said Harry as they walked into the locker room, loudly proclaiming, "Man of the Hour is here!"

Ron was immediately lifted off the ground by Kevin in a crushing hug.

"Fucking madman!" he crowed, large arms shaking Ron about like a ragdoll.

"Amazing!" Neville said as Claudia and Vyse clapped, all broadly smiling at him.

"You did alright," Ramona managed to say as she walked to the showers.

"Wow, that's practically a gold-plated medal from her," said Neville under his breath.

"I'll clear some room over the hearth."

The group dispersed after singing his praises for a solid ten minutes, leaving Ron well chuffed and red-faced. The group properly showered and changed before Harry and he walked out into the hall to find Percy, sitting in a chair that hadn't been there before.

"Percy?" asked Ron, looking about. "What are you—"

"Oh good! I didn't miss you!" he said, pushing his glasses up his freckled nose and disappearing the chair.

"Is something wrong? Is everything okay?" asked Ron, feeling panic begin to well.

"No, no, nothing wrong," he said with a wave of his hand. "Congratulations on your exam. I hope you don't mind, I asked to be informed and they said you did quite well."

"Oh yeah… I did okay."

"He did brilliant," said Harry, giving him a rough elbow in the side.

"You didn't have to come down to congratulate me… I'll see you at dinner tonight."

"I know that, but I just wanted to immediately tell you… But it's private," Percy looked nervously between them. It was still odd to see Percy looking uncertain about anything, much less looking nervous about Ron's reaction. "Well, this is why I came."

He handed papers over to Ron. He read a bunch of tosh before finally finding:

Doctors Hugo and Jean Granger - FOUND.

-----

Thanks so much for reading! I'm trying to catch up on responding to comments (anxiety was getting to me for a while there)- I was super nervous about this chapter as I'm not used to writing much in the way of action- but hopefully you found this entertaining!

Next time: Hermione's POV

#waking up #ron weasley #my writing #harry potter fanfiction #romione #auror ron

24 notes · View notes