Finding Heather

Year 7 Chapter 13

Author's Notes: Hello all, I'm skipping the events at Malfoy Manor. This chapter begins at the saddest point in the book. As I've stated before, I'm sticking to book canon. If the book has someone die, then they'll die in my story too. Sorry, but I can't bring myself to do anything else.

Harry Potter belongs in whole to JK Rowling, I'm just borrowing him for a while.

Chapter Thirteen

 The smell of the sea overwhelmed Heather's nostrils as she, Hermione, Ron, Griphook, and Dobby landed in a heap. Grunting with pain, Hermione was lying on the small of her back, Heather pulled herself out of the pile, feeling the gritty sand between her fingers. Finally free, she climbed into a sitting position. She couldn't see much in the gloom surrounding them except for a few shapes moving towards them, backlit by the lights in a house some fifty yards away.

"Are we here Dobby?" she asked, drawing the two wands from her pocket and preparing to fight. When he didn't respond, she tore her eyes away from the silhouettes to look for him. Dobby was lying next to Griphook, not moving.

"Dobby!" she cried, catching sight of the silver knife protruding from his tiny chest. Any potential threat that the approaching shadows might pose was forgotten in an instant and Heather was at the elf's side. He was still breathing, but barely.

"HELP!" she cried. If only they could get him up to the house, he would be alright.

"Heather...Potter" whispered the elf, a peaceful smile crossing his lips as he looked up into her face. With a last rattling breath, the body in her arms went limp and the eyes rolled back.

 Time stopped and Heather wasn't sure how long it was before she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Luna, Dobby's last act had been to bring them to safety.

"Hermione?" Heather asked, her voice breaking.

"Ron took her inside. Dean and Griphook are in there as well" Luna replied kindly. Bill emerged from the darkness and stood next to them, gazing down at the body in Heather's arms.

"I want to bury him. Do you have a spade?" she asked.

"Yeah," answered Bill, "But Harry-"

"Later." Heather said, rising and clutching Dobby closer. Silently, Bill led her to a spot in the garden that overlooked the sea and summoned a spade from a shed. He watched as Heather laid the elf gently on the ground, removing the silver knife from his chest. With a look of pure hatred, she threw the knife as far as she could. If it landed in the ocean the sound of it was covered by the crashing waves, but she didn't care.

As Heather set to work both Bill and Luna retreated back into the house. Grief and pain coursed through her blocking out any thought for a while. Her scar burned as she dug but no visions came to mind. For the first time in months she didn't give a damn what Voldemort was doing. All that mattered was that Dobby was dead.

But how had he known her name? True, he had been sent by Madam Pomfrey last year to retrieve her clothes, but there no way the matron would have divulged Heather's name for that task. And who had sent him to save them in the first place? She stopped digging to look once more into the glassy eyes, wishing he could answer her questions.

Hallows or Horcruxes, Heather or Harry were the thoughts that preoccupied her as she resumed digging. It was over, her cover was blown. The Death Eaters knew she was a girl now, even if they only thought it was a disguise. This meant that she wouldn't be able to use her claim of it only being a subterfuge with the Order anymore either. It's time came the little voice in the back of her mind, the one that had told her she was a girl for the first time all those years ago. It's time it said again louder, momentarily drowning out her grief and panic.