Help Is Only So Far Away

Part 22

This may be the last part, cause nothing else has been written yet. 

<3 <3 <3

"Harry! Harry!" The annoying petulant voice of Hermione was following him down the corridor. Harry had had enough. He couldn't practise his famous air guitar with Hermione yelling at him.

"What?!" He spun round and yelled. Her face crumpled, before wiping itself clean and returning to a panicked urgent look.

"I think Voldemort is alive!" Hermione cried, her words jumbling all together.

"What?" Harry asked, softer this time, but full of disbelief.

"Harry, I think Voldemort is alive." Hermione stated, drawing herself up into a professional, fearless stance, head held high.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well I was looking in the library and seeing as Madam Pince is dead, I figured that I would go look in the restricted section. There's this really difficult spell where you can see where the trails of someone's soul are. It's kind of like looking to see when someone died, if they left anything behind, just a mystic piece of soul, not a Horcrux. It's very difficult but I figured I would try it." At this, Harry rolled his eyes, starting to get impatient. Still the same old Hermione. "So, I searched for Snape and Scarfy, you know, just to test it out. There's still a bit of Scarfy with Sorty and I'm not that surpri-"

"Hermione, get on with it!" Harry demanded grumpily. He really wanted to get back to his air guitar and if Voldemort was really still out there, it meant there was another war on their hands, which, if it was anything like the last one, was gonna end badly, with minimal chances for totally awesome air guitar shredding with Ron.

"Well, finally I looked for Voldemort, just to see if there's anything left and there is a massive section of his soul still here. With the amount of soul that was there, he has to still be alive and mostly in one piece!" She sounded on the verge of a nervous breakdown at this point, her hands fluttering like restless snitches, bunching up and releasing her hair in rapid, ragged progressions.

"No no no no! He can't be back! Not again!" Harry said, shaking his head and pacing up and down the corridor.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but it's true." Hermione lifted a shaking hand to his shoulder and he pulled her into his arms in a tight hug, for lack of anything better to do. To remind himself that, if there was another war coming, he had people he had to fight for. Even Herman.

"C'mon, we have to go warn the others." He stated as he steeled himself for the doubtlessly rowdy conversation that was about to come. Hermione watched her friend stiffen, becoming Harry Potter, the hero that the whole world revered and adored, as her soft air guitar player, lost boy of a friend was pushed to the back. This was going to be very hard on him, especially if he has to give yet more of his already limited treasures up to save everyone again.
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"This i-is Sarah." Quirrell announced to the room. Tyler stood, a bright grin fixed on his face, holding out a hand to her in greeting. Voldemort didn't move from the couch that he had curled up on defensively when she arrived, and just watched instead, trying to avoid glaring at her, for Quirrell's sake.

Sarah was dressed in a pretty floral dress, hair braided back and Quirrell was dressed in a nice, dark blue shirt and jeans, lent to him, yet again, by Tyler. Quirrell's hand was curled around her waist and the sight made him want to be sick.

"Th-this is Tyler a-and that's Voldemort." The pale wizard forced a smile onto his face, but he didn't get up to greet Sarah. The smile came out more like a grimace, though she didn't seem to be bothered. She sent him a warm, genuine smile before turning it onto Quirrell again. Voldemort looked away and didn't catch the small sad smile that his friend sent his way from over Sarah's shoulder.