BREATHE -draco malfoy

thirty two.

Ana gasped as they landed, her heart exploding into her throat. They had made it out, thank Merlin, and they were standing in the middle of yet another wooded area, surrounded by snow and trees. The snow was almost overpowering, too bright and white. It hurt Ana's eyes to look at it, the snow that was blanketed on every single surface, stuck onto every branch of the barren grey trees. 

They had made the journey to Godric's Hollow earlier that night. Now that they could apparate, the travel was a lot easier. But it was sad as well, since they now were no longer in the place that Ron had left them and even if Ron returned, he would have no idea where they were. But they had to go, as Harry had practically begged, wanting to return to his birthplace and the home of the founder of Gryffindor. Godric's Hollow was also the home of Albus Dumbledore, which was the main reason that the trio decided to go. They had known that it was potentially dangerous, and it definitely turned out to be. It had started out peaceful. Harry, Hermione, and Ana had walked closely together through the cold little town, watching as the Christmas lights twinkled on the roofs and feeling the nostalgia in the air. The nostalgia was especially thick when they had walked through the graveyard, looking for Harry's parents, and when they stumbled upon Harry's home, one he had only lived in for a little over a year as a baby. It made Ana sad, seeing how Harry looked at the house in longing. She had taken his hand and stared at the façade of the house while he sniffled, thinking heavily about his parents and the murder that had taken place there, sixteen years prior. 

They weren't finding any information so far, except for a symbol on a grave that resembled one that Harry had seen before, on a necklace at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Ana was just thinking that maybe they should leave, as it was dangerous for Harry to be seen, when they spotted an old, decrepit witch staring at them from across the street. They had seen snatchers too, stalking up and down the deserted street, but Harry felt confident that they needed to follow the woman, as she was looking at them as if she wanted to say something. 

The woman was Bathilda Bagshot, or at least she seemed to be. They had followed her into her home, wanting to talk about Dumbledore, as she had been close to the Dumbledore family, but the scene soon turned horrific. The woman transformed into a long, slithering serpent, attacking them with veracity. They had apparated away to safety and now found themselves in the Forest of Dean, a place Hermione had gone to with her parents. It was a beautiful place, serene and calm and straight out of a Christmas movie. 

"It's just how I remember it. The trees, the river. As if nothing's changed. Not true of course, everything's changed," Hermione said the next morning, gazing out at the trees as the three of them sat outside. Ana was stationed next to Hermione, both of them sitting across from Harry, all of their backs pressed up against the bark of the trees and sitting in the snow. 

Ana was shivering, curling up under her blanket as she sat with her two friends. She looked pitiful, cold and rosy cheeked with dark circles under her glassy green eyes. The events of the previous night had her exhausted, but not nearly as exhausted as Harry, who looked like he had been hit head-on by the Hogwarts Express. 

"Where's my wand?" Harry asked suddenly, looking over at Ana. Ana remembered Hermione grabbing it right before they had apparated, but she had no idea where it was now. Ana just shrugged at him. "Where's my wand Hermione?" Harry asked, and Hermione had a look of caution on her face, about to break the terrible news. She shifted, showing Harry his destroyed wand that lay underneath her blanket. Harry, in barely contained anger, told Hermione to leave her wand with him and for both of the girls to go inside. Ana obliged, grateful to be out of the cold at last. When she opened the door to the tent, Ana immediately sat down at the wooden table, resting her chin atop her crossed arms on the hard surface and rubbing her hands together in a feeble attempt to warm them. Hermione walked in cautiously, about to walk right past her, when she turned to her, addressing her with a curious expression.