Wot In The Harri Potter?

51 - The Heirloom

Digging a grave by hand is harder than one might think.

Not to mention depressing.

But I refuse to use my wand. Dobby deserves more than a half arsed attempt of a burial.

I don't let anyone help me. I need to do this alone. I sweat, I cry and I heave with utter sadness. Another death, because of me. Will this never end?

Once I finish, I wrap Dobby up in a rainbow coloured knitted blanket Fleur gave me. It makes me smile because I know Dobby would have liked that very much. I place him gently in the grave and whisper goodbye.

The beds in Shell Cottage are all taken up by the ill, so I make do with sleeping on the sofa. I get the feeling that Fleur is a little put out by all these unexpected visitors but we cannot do much else whilst we wait for our party to recover.

I try not to think about Draco and push down the guilt I feel when I realise too late that I'd accidentally snatched his wand too.

There isn't a lot I can do about it now, other than to formulate a plan of my next move.

"You're not going after the Elder wand then?" Ron asks when I share with him and Hermione my plan to hunt down the next Horcrux with Griphook's help.

"Nah," I mutter. "May as well get on with what Dumbledore wanted me to. There's no point living in a world until every piece of Who-Know-Who is gone."

I cringe at using this name, but seeing as Voldemort is taboo, I'm kind of stuck sounding like a coward.

"And you think we can trust him?" Hermione asks weakly, still very fragile from her bout of torture at Bellatrix's wand.

"We saved that little shit's life." I snarl. "He owes us."

One blustery April evening, two weeks after we had arrived at Shell Cottage, I help Fleur prepare the dinner, chopping up steaks and vegetables.

"I'm sorry for this intrusion," I say to her, "I never meant for you to have to deal with all of this."

Her somewhat irritable expression softens.

"Mr Ollivander leaves for Muriel's zis evening. Zat will make things easier. Ze goblin," she scowls, "can move downstairs, and you can take zat room."

"I don't mind sleeping on the sofa," I say thinking that I need to keep Griphook happy if I want to carry out my plan. "And we'll be off your hands soon, too - Ron, Hermione and I. We don't need to be here much longer."

A loud bang on the front door makes us jump. Bill, who was sitting reading a paper at the kitchen table leaps to his feet, his wand pointing towards the door.

"Who is it?" he calls.

"It is I, the good looking Weasley twin!" a very familiar voice calls over the howling wind outside. "I am here in place of Dad to escort Mr Ollivander to our Aunt Muriel's house."

Trembling, I lower the knife I am holding, my heart beating so fast. Fred. It has been over eight months since I have seen him.

I go to rush towards the door but Fleur grabs my arm stopping me. "It could be a trap, 'Arri. We were expecting Arthur."

"Prove that you are who you say!" Bill demands loudly, his wand still pointed at the closed door.

"Merlin, you're worse than Mum! Okay, let me think... Ask Harri to confirm that the first time I told her I loved her, she'd just shown her tits to our mother."

My face heats as everyone turns to look at me. "It's him." I grit.

I go to the door and wrench it open.