𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫.

𝟕.𝟑 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

And just like that Y/n was alone.

Now that her best friends were gone the house was closing in on her. The three of them had been like beacons of hope for Y/n in this godforsaken house. She hurried around the house to get her things. Y/n did not even glance in the direction of her father's room.

If she did she knew she would never leave. That one room was like a sanctuary for Y/n. Away from the gloom of the rest of the house.

Y/n had to mentally prepare herself. She had a month. A month to live in absolute disguise without using traceable magic. Basically she had to be a muggle.

If Y/n used her own powers, which although not traceable, were basically of no use. If she used her magic she was instantly identifiable. After all, she was known for her powers.

If Y/n used any other form of magic, she was still under the trace. So her location would be leaked. Although Harry was more important, Y/n highly doubted that Voldemort would just let Y/n roam around free.

Without another second of consideration, Y/n grabbed her purse. Y/n was thankful that she had no features that would instantly distinguish her like Harry's scar. Hermione had given Y/n a small bottle of Polyjuice Potion. Barely enough for a few hours, Y/n was not about to waste it now. Throwing on a large raincoat, Y/n walked out of the front door.

There were a few men who gave her suspicious look, but Y/n did not stare at them. She walked as quickly as she could to the nearest bus station. Contrary to what Y/n told Hermione, Ron and Harry, Y/n had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

In her defense she had planned a few things before everything blew up in her face

She had decided to go to Fred and George's shop, but now the Weasley's were being watched. There was no point in going there.

She had thought of going to the large woods where the Quidditch World Cup took place, but being alone would not be safe for Y/n. She had to be in a crowd. She had to blend in.

What better way to be unpredictable than to completely wing a plan that might cost her life?

Y/n climbed on the red bus in haste. It was crowded. Perfect.

Hermione and Harry knew London well. Y/n on the other hand, not so much. She had done her research though. Y/n knew that York was one of the safest cities in London.

Bill had exchanged galleons to pounds for Y/n. Y/n was grateful as she climbed off the bus. There was no way she was sleeping on the street unprotected and vulnerable.

Y/n bought the smallest hotel room she could. She would stay here for only a few days. The death eaters would always trail Y/n's dust. They better.

...

"What's happened to him?"

"Splinched," said Hermione, her fingers already busy at Ron's sleeve, where the blood was wettest and darkest. Harry watched, horrified, as she tore open Ron's shirt.

"Harry, quickly, in my bag, there's a small bottle labeled 'Essence of Dittany' —"

"Bag — right —" Harry sped to the place where Hermione had landed, seized the tiny beaded bag, and thrust his hand inside it.

At once, object after object began presenting itself to his touch: He felt the leather spines of books, woolly sleeves of jumpers, heels of shoes —

"Quickly!"

He grabbed his wand from the ground and pointed it into the depths of the magical bag. "Accio Dittany!"

A small brown bottle zoomed out of the bag; he caught it and hastened back to Hermione and Ron, whose eyes were now halfclosed, strips of white eyeball all that were visible between his lids.