━chapter 8

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Chapter 8
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warning: use of the word 'terrorist'

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HARRY TRIED TO IGNORE THE ANXIETY THAT BUBBLED IN HIS GUT. The walk back to the tent didn't help much. With one hand holding Adhara's, he tried to avoid everyone's stare as they muttered among each when they passed by.

Mr. Weasley did his best to shield them all — Harry, Adhara, Ron, and Hermione. Malfoy had disappeared a while back. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was alright. Git or not, no matter how much the blond thought himself to be safe, Harry didn't think those people would contemplate much before choosing a victim. As long as someone looked vulnerable, powerless, weak, that would be enough.

Also, Malfoy looked, dare he say, downright worried about Adhara when he realized she wasn't alright.

Harry didn't want to imagine. He didn't want to think what would have happened had any of them still been at the campsite. Death Eaters had taken over the site. Death Eaters, followers of the man who murdered his parents.

Yet, people still talked. They still speculated the impossible. Mr. Weasley shouted at them back, looking outraged at the mere prospect of the accusations, just as he was when Amos Diggory accused Harry Potter of casting the Dark Mark.

But that wasn't what sparked Harry's anxiety. It wasn't the whispers, nor the inquisitive looks that were thrown in his and Adhara's direction. It wasn't even his sister's tight grip on his hand, though he was fully aware she was still lost in her own thoughts.

It wasn't any of those.

Harry was still thinking about the Death Eaters. About their masks and their hats. About the skull embellishing the sky, a sight that was now engraved in his mind.

And then he thought of his aching scar, about the burning sting that cooled him to his bones, and wondered if the two were related in any way.

Trelawney's words echoed in his head:

"It will happen one night. The Dark Lord lies friendless, abandoned by his followers. His one true servant has been chained these twelve years. One night, before midnight....the master will find his loyal servant and break him free. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. One night... before midnight... the servant... will set out... to rejoin... his master..."

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In very obvious ways, Harry and Adhara were the same.

Both lived similar childhoods, conducted by women with rough hands and even rougher words. The familiar feeling of being locked up was common to them both. There was a reason Harry and Adhara understood each other so well.

Though, in ways even more obvious, Adhara and Harry were complete opposites of one another.

Adhara hated the Furnace Room as much as Harry did the Cupboard Under the Stairs. But whereas Harry feared the enclosed space and being abandoned, Adhara feared the fire and being remembered.

Aunt Petunia could forget Harry, and he'd be stuck inside for too long.

Matron Hallewell would remember Adhara and lock her up for too long.

Hermione would say they were both the same. Neither one nor the other liked attention, she had figured out. And for that, she was right in the same way as she was wrong.

When it came to Adhara, the statement told Hermione that it was true. Her friend didn't like attention. She rather be forgotten, it was much safer that way.

𝗨𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗 ━ Golden Trio EraWhere stories live. Discover now