𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟑𝟔 - 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭

𝙄𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮'𝙨 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙊𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙖'𝙨 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣, as ever since there always seemed to be someone accompanying them for whatever reason they could imagine from the top of their head -- in fact it had gotten so bad that Mrs Weasley would keep reminding Harry to be gentle with Ophelia whenever he so much as reached his arm around her and no matter how much they tried to convince the poor woman she would resist the new information that Ophelia was not in fact pregnant and it was becoming a nuisance.

"Your mother is beginning to get on my last nerve Ronald!" Ophelia hissed as she returned with Harry from the kitchen after venturing down for some snacks, "She's insisting now that I mustn't give into my cravings! I just wanted some bloody jam toast!"

While Ron and Hermione shared a giggle, Harry and Ophelia were scowling as they sat down.

"Well you're not exactly helping combat the rumours exactly now are you?" said Hermione in a matter-of-fact way as Harry pulled Ophelia between his legs so her back rested against his chest. "And I don't exactly want to be the one to say it, but you two are going to have to show some sort of resilience when we go, because I for one do not want to be listening to it all day and all night."

"We're not that bad, are we?" asked Ophelia, feeling Harry brush some of her hair from her neck.

"A little." said Ron, "We're used to it mind, but--"

"We'd appreciate it if you two could show some restraint," insisted Hermione briskly, "Sleep in separate beds just to ensure nothing covert happens."

"Not that that ever stopped them before." muttered Ron under his breath as he sipped his pumpkin juice.

"Alright," said Harry, "We'll sleep in separate beds and we'll show some restraint."

"I mean if you need to, go for a walk together or something." said Hermione flicking through one of her many books.

Harry snickered and Ophelia elbowed him in his ribs.

"What?" asked Ron looking between them.

Harry shook his head and laughed, "Nothing."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look of amusement, which lingered a little longer around one another's smiles that glowed with that unspoken feeling of love, Ophelia leaned further into Harry as she beamed proudly at them from across the room, Harry's arms fit around her waist as she tilted her head back onto his shoulder as a sense of nostalgia rushed in, he pressed his lips to the exposed skin of her shoulder.

"So when do you reckon we'll be able to go anyway?" asked Harry, his hand absentmindedly drawing circles in her skin while her gut sank farther at the mention of it, grounded back in the reality of the situation.

"Well, you can't do anything about the" — Ron mouthed the word Horcruxes — "till you're seventeen. You've still got the Trace on you. And we can plan here as well as anywhere, can't we? Or," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "d'you reckon you already know where the You-Know-Whats are?"

"No," Harry admitted.

"I've been doing a bit of research," said Hermione. "I was saving it for when we were all together and Ophelia put pressure on Regulus to find the locket..."

"You did?" asked Ron, looking at Ophelia whom nodded while Harry was thankful Ophelia couldn't see his face, he already knew this of course, "What did he say?"

"That Kreacher had it until quite recently, the theory is that Mundungus Fletcher stole it the night I died, probably flogged it by now but he's trying to figure out how to get to Mundungus but it seems Kreacher is reluctant to leave Regulus' side now that he's back -- we're probably best off waiting for now until something comes up--"