Dirty Mouth, Dirty Blood [h.g]

thirty two

Then

Narcissa played with Carina's hair, humming thoughtfully.

"What do you think will look best on her?" Narcissa asked after a moment, turning to the House Elf she had waiting on her.

"Well, Miss, Miss Carina always looks nice in curls." The creature stuttered out.

Narcissa nodded her agreement, already wrapping Carina's hair around her wand. It was the first spell Carina had learned, the curling spell. But even as a teenager, there was something comforting about having your mother do your hair.

Carina leaned into the touch, smiling up at her mother.

Narcissa's brow was furrowed, and for the first time Carina actually saw her mother as old.

Her blonde hair was so light, the white streaks running through it were barely noticeable, but notice Carina did. Her mother would be 45 soon, middle aged. The thought terrified Carina.

She knew her mother would age, everyone did, but Carina had an idealistic portrait painted of her mother in her mind, a young Narcissa Malfoy, a smile overtaking her face.

Carina knew it was too good to be true, Narcissa wouldn't always look like that, but Carina had hoped.

Oh, how she had hoped.

So Carina let her mother do her hair up for the first day of Hogwarts, as she had every year, knowing in her heart it would be the last time.

She didn't want to come back home.

Not if she could help it.

Now

Harry stumbled back into the tent, looking disgruntled.

"I thought you were getting food," Carina commented dryly.

"I was," Harry snapped, "but there were Dementors. And, for some reason, I was unable to summon a Patronus."

"That is odd," Hermione agreed, rising and heading over to Harry. "Let's try to figure out what's wrong. Carina?"

"Leaving!" The Slytherin said breezily, understanding that she would only aggravate the dark-haired boy further.

She was called back in sometime later along with Ron, eyeing Hermione warily. She trusted the Gryffindor with her life, not her sanity. She had to make sure she wasn't walking into a trap.

Hermione explained the situation quickly. "As you know, Harry wasn't able to summon a Patronus. I'm pretty sure it's the Horcrux's fault, I mean, what else changed? I think we should all take turns wearing it, seeing as it will have a negative influence on us."

The rest agreed, and the locket was passed to Ron.

Carina rarely wore it; the reason given was that she was argumentative and irritable enough without help from the locket, and only got custody of the piece of jewelry when the others needed a break.

Carina accepted the excuse, but detected an underlying sense of distrust. They still thought she would abandon them at any second, and she was determined to prove them wrong.

But tensions were running high; the locket was causing everyone to be outlandish and rude. The quartet couldn't decide where to go next, and food was few and far in between. Carina didn't mind as much, having lived off very little food for a while, and would usually give most of her small portion to Hermione.

The brunette appreciated it in her way, arguing with Carina about eating it herself before relenting to hunger and eating it.

Carina did it so Hermione would be pleasant towards her. Her little escapes from the constant arguing were at night, with Hermione, when the two could snuggle up in bed in just talk. They talked of everything and nothing, Carina simply enjoying the sound of Hermione's voice, and Hermione appreciating the challenge Carina provided.

Carina would push Hermione to the brink again and again, testing everything the Gryffindor stood for. But she did it with such respect and love that Hermione couldn't complain, instead enjoying the way Carina made Hermione reevaluate her choices. And, in return, Carina did the same.

One night, Hermione and Ron were bickering at God knows what when Carina shushed them, hearing voices.

Carina motioned for Harry to join the trio and he obliged; the four leaned next to the edge of the tent, pressing their ears to the canvas.

Carina opened the flap of the tent slightly, seeing Dean, Ted Tonks, and two goblins. She gave Hermione an astonished look before tuning into the story one of the goblins was telling.

"So, these three students at Hogwarts, Luna, Ginny, and Neville or something like that, tried to steal the Sword of Gryffindor one night from Snape's office. So, to keep the sword safe, he sends it to Gringotts, right? Well, me and a couple others see this sword, and we immediately know it's a fake. We don't tell Snape, o'course. Little bit of revenge. Gotta serve it where you can."

Carina closed the tent flap, turning to the Gryffindors that sat before her.

Hermione was already on the move, requiring the portrait of Phineas Black she had brought along to wear a blindfold, and brining the painting out for all to see before firing questions at it.

"Black! Where did you last see the sword of Gryffindor?"

Phineas rolled his eyes, answering Hermione with regret. "The last time I saw it, Dumbledore was destroying a ring. Just... hitting the thing over and over like a madman."

Hermione nodded, pursing her lips. She stuffed the portrait back into the bag, shrinking it down so it'd fit, before turning to the group once more.

"Didn't you say Dumbledore had Marvolo's ring on his hand? That it blackened it?" Carina asked. "Could it have been a Horcrux? And he managed to destroy it with the sword?"

"It's possible," Hermione agreed, "and if it's true, then we need to get that sword."

Harry piped in then. "I bet Dumbledore left it to you in his will to signify its importance. He knew you weren't going to get it. He just wanted to let you know you needed it."

"But why to Carina?" Ron asked.

"Because it was so crazy!" Carina said suddenly. "A Slytherin, getting the sword of Gryffindor? That's got to spark some interest. Sneaky little bastard."

Hermione started talking hurriedly, words rushing from her mouth. "One of the sword's properties is to absorb those of other, stronger magical objects. It must be able to defeat Horcruxes because you killed the basilisk with it, Harry!"

Carina sighed heavily, pleased with their breakthrough. She turned to Hermione, raising a single eyebrow in question, and Hermione nodded discreetly.

Her pleasure was only beginning.