Lucy Riddle and the Boy Who Lived

The Cloak of Invisibility

Chapter Forty

"So you're telling me what you're saying is true?"

None of them could believe — especially Harry — that his invisibility cloak could be the Cloak of Invisibility. There was nothing special about the ragged old thing except that it was passed down in the family, previously his father's, and that it protected him from tiny hexes. It was awesome.

Which were the requirements to prove that it was the Cloak of Invisibility. After a few hours, it stopped being a big deal. And in the duration of that time, Ron was complaining about every little thing that concerned him. Even though he was wearing the locket, he was whining more than usual.

"I am so hungry. There is nothing to eat here! Hermione, let's be frank, your soup, yeah, it sucks. It tastes like cardboard. It's just leaves, water, and rocks. I still can't believe you made me swallow rock-flavored soup. I know, you're about to tell me that you did it in your Muggle class because it was from a book, and that's its fine to do that, but I don't really care. And did I say there was no heat in here? Well, there's no heat in here. Where are all the blankets, and why didn't we restart the fire? This is bloody insane. My mum would've cooked up a fantastic meal, and I would be warm and toasty, sitting by the fire with a blanket. I'm starving. Why did I even agree to come with you lot — no, Hermione, don't give me that look! I know you've been thinking that for a while too."

Lucy noticed out of the corner of her eye Harry clenching his fist. His teeth were grinding together in a way to prevent him from doing something he'd regret later. Ron was just being vexing because of the locket. It was controlling his actions and evidently his mind.

"Ron, just chill out," Harry gritted out. "Let's take some deep breaths and —"

"Just shut up, Harry. I don't want to hear your voice. You think you know it all, huh? You get everything you want. Well, I want my mum to be here to cook me something good to eat."

"I bloody get what I want?" Harry snapped. "I want my mum and dad to be alive. Your parents are well and living while mine are buried six feet below my feet!"

"You don't even care about them."

And that's what started the fight. Harry lunged towards Ron, gripping onto his collar and holding him in place. Even though his best friend was nearly a head taller, Harry was still stronger and quicker curtesy to being Seeker for six years.

"What did you say?" Harry growled. Hermione and Lucy were trying to get him off of Ron before any more contact could be made. It wasn't that hard though for Lucy had to hex the boy to get him to loosen his grip.

Ron was speechless. His face was getting redder and redder by the second as he stared at Lucy's figure. Everything about her infuriated him, and he couldn't keep his anger down. Ron removed the locket from his neck and threw the thing at Lucy's feet and shouted, "This is your fault! If it wasn't for your father, none of this would've happened! We wouldn't be in this mess. You should leave —"

Harry swung a fist at Ron's nose. It made contact, and the sound of a "crack!" was the only thing heard into the graying night. Harry puffed out some air as Hermione pushed him away.

Ron looked smugly at him while Hermione tended to his nose. She was trying to stop the red flowing from his nostril. Her right-hand fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose while her other hand was looking for something to clean up the bloody mess.

Harry couldn't stand how Hermione was treating him after he called out his own best friends. "Leave. You don't want to be here anyway."

Ron glared at him and growled like a wolf. "I guess I will."

And he left. Just like that.

Hermione was hysterical. She was chasing after him, calling his name, trying to get him to stay. "No, Ron! Don't leave! Ron! Ron!" It was all in vain though. Hermione returned to the tent and plopped down on a couch. Her eyes were watering as she said slowly with her lips quivering, "I love him. Oh my god, I love him."

Hermione didn't talk or do anything with her remaining tent mates as she slipped into her bed in grief. She was still crying, but nothing was coming out of her mouth. But it wasn't long before Lucy and Harry could hear her trying to stifle her sob and sniffles.

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Hermione was still in bed after hours of mourning. She was fast asleep, exhausted from the earlier events. No one dared to wake her up. They crept around her bed, making sure to keep quiet, so nothing could wake her up.

Harry and Lucy were sitting outside the tent, keeping watch. Lucy couldn't help but think more about what Ron had said. If it weren't for her, none of them would be in this mess. They would be at home with their friends or family having a great time bonding.

But then again, how was it her fault? How would she know this would happen? She was merely a baby when Voldemort left her to become who he was now. And besides that she wasn't his mother. She couldn't control him with a single sentence.

Harry noticed the unfocused look on Lucy's face. He had a feeling he knew what her thoughts were about. "Lucy?"

"Yeah?" came her reply.

"Are you still thinking about what Ron said?" Harry was sitting a few feet away from her. She was sitting Indian style while Harry had his legs tucked together with his knee in the air. He was playing with a twig nearby, drawing shapes into the soggy dirt. Last night it had rained. It was as if the sky knew how Hermione was feeling and felt the same way.

"Yeah, it's hard to forget. It's not really comforting to know that I could be the cause of all this. If it weren't for me, you guys would be at home, having fun."

"First off, my only living family hates me, except Dudley probably. Secondly, it's not your fault at all. You couldn't prevent this even if you tried. And lastly, I'm part of this too. You obviously remember the prophecies. Voldemort started this — I'm going to end it."

"And are we're finally going to have someone who can run the Ministry correctly?"

"What do you mean? There's Scrimgeour in office."

"I mean you. You're way better than him."

"Why, thank you, Lucy, I know I'm just too amazingly awesome."