Harry and Amelia Potter

7.14

The river flows quietly, thick and muddy from the previous night's rain. Harry and I emerge from the tent, peering into the trees. Hermione stands far down by the riverbank, tying the red scarf to a tree.

Hermione, eyes red from crying, clutches the beaded bag in one hand while the locket dangles from the other. She peers one last time toward the trees, then, without turning, reaches out her hand. Harry and I study her, then step forward, gently takes her fingers in ours. Instantly we Disapparate, pitched into a whirlwind of darkness.

As we reappear on a windswept hillside, our hands break free and Hermione stumbles away, sobs racking her body as she buries her face in her hands. Harry watches her, then turns away, takes out his wand and begins to walk in a circle, casting enchantments in a soft voice.

"Salvio Hexia... Protego Totalum..."

As he does this, I get to work on the tent, placing it down and with a wave of my wand, is up in no time. I step in and take a seat on my cot. A few moments later, Hermione joins me. Her eyes are still red and puffy from crying, but then again, so are mine.

She comes up to me and sits down. "I admit I told Ron I was disappointed, but not in the way he made it sound."

"We don't have to..." I mutter, not bothering to look at her. My gaze is glued to stained spot on the carpet below our feet.

"No, your my best friend, Mia." She tells me, grabbing my hand. "I can't stand you being mad at me."

I take in a deep breath and let it out, then turn towards her. "Okay, let it out."

She smiles graciously. "I just meant, I was disappointed in this whole situation, and in myself, for not being able to help find more Horcruxes or figuring out a way to destroy them."

"Well, now we have. We need to find the Sword of Gryffindor." I look away for a moment. "It may have presented itself to Harry and I in the Chamber of Secrets, but I don't know if we'll be lucky enough for that to happen again."

"I agree." She nods, placing her head on my shoulder.

"And for the record, I wasn't mad at you." I tell her. "I was hurt. What Ron said..."

"I know, I know..." she says. "But he couldn't have meant it."

"He still said it." She goes quiet at my words. "Look, I'm sorry too. He shouldn't have left like that."

We both sit in silence for awhile. No words spoken, just the sounds of the wind blowing against the tents canvas.

I find myself deep in thought. Where will we go? What could possibly be another horcrux? How is everyone back at home? Then I find myself fidgeting with the radio. It begins to crackle to life.

First I only hear static, so I turn the knob until I hear a song play. I've never heard it before, but it sounds rhythmic. I place it on the nightstand next to me and continue to sit there with Hermione, just listening to the words. Trying to get out of my own head.

Then Harry ducks into the tent, causing Hermione and I both to perk up.

"It's a muggle station." I inform him. I think he wants me to turn it off, so I move my hand to flip the switch. Harry stops me from doing so.

I look up at him and he has a smirk on his face. He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. Taking his other hand in mine, he begins to sway back and forth along with the music.

I look at him with a questioned face, then he twirls me around. I can't help but let out a small laugh. Hermione looks at us with a confused face.

We both step over to her, still swaying with the melody. Harry extends his hand to her and pulls her up as well. He lets go of my hand and gently grabs the chain hanging from her neck, lifting the locket up until it's off of her. He tosses it aside and smiles at her. She looks to it, and then back to Harry and I. We both extend a hand to her and she hesitantly takes it.

The three of us have a good laugh, dancing, letting ourselves go. Being in the moment, not a care in the world.

Our shadows flicker upon the canvas like joyous shadow puppets, moving with abandon until, abruptly, the signal slips away and the static returns.

Our smiles fade and we stop moving. Hermione averts her eyes, and takes a step out of the tent. I watch her go, then take the locket from the floor and sling it over my neck. I grab a few books and a couple of blankets and move to sit outside.

Hermione and I wrapped in some blankets, sit near the tent by a wind-whipped fire. She reads through the book Dumbledore have her, Tales of Beedle the Bard and I flip through Spellmans Syllabary.

Harry lies on the top bunk above Ron's empty lower, eyeing his face in the surface of the Snitch sitting there. As he takes it in hand, the wings begin to flap slowly up and down. He watches it for a long time when an idea strikes.

Folding his fingers around the orb, he brings it to his lips briefly, then turns it over in his palm.
The Snitch's tired wings go still. Then, as if written by an invisible hand, words appear on the smooth golden surface: I open at the close.

"Hermione. Mia." Harry slips through the flap and hands me the Snitch. "You were right. It's like you said. Snitches have flesh memories. But I didn't catch my first Snitch with my hand. I almost swallowed it."

"Right." I say as Hermione and I look down and watch the words vanish on the small, golden orb.

"'I open at the close?'" Hermione says the message.

"What do you reckon it means?" Harry asks her.

"I don't know. But look, I've found something as well..." She turns The Tales of Beedle the Bard into the flickering light, points to the top of the title page, to small drawing of a triangular eye. "I thought it was a picture of an eye, but now I don't think it is. It isn't a rune and it's not in Spellman's Syllabary either." She points to the book in my hands. "And it's been inked in, somebody drew it, it isn't part of the book."

"Luna's dad was wearing that, at Bill and Fleur's wedding." I inform them.

"What d'you mean, wearing it?" She asks me.

"Around his neck. Like an amulet." Harry tells her.

"I didn't think much of it at the time. You know Luna, she's always got some mad thing or the other she's carrying around. I just figured it ran in the family." I tell her.

"Why would someone have drawn it in a children's book?" As Hermione shakes her head, musing, Harry eyes her, then looks to me.

"Hermione, Mia, I've been thinking. I... I want to go to Godric's Hollow. It's where we were born, Mia, it's where our parents died-"

"And it's exactly where You-Know- Who will expect us to go." I tell him. "Because it means something to us."

"But it means something to him too, Mia. You-Know-Who nearly died there. Wouldn't that be just the kind of place he'd hide a Horcrux?" He asks. Hermione and I eye him. Despite myself, i know he's right.

"It's dangerous, Harry. But I have to admit, recently even I've been thinking we might have to go. I think it's possible something else is hidden there." Hermione says. I chime in, knowing what she's referring to.

"The sword." Harry looks confused by my words. "If Dumbledore didn't want it falling into the Ministry's hands, but wanted us to find it, what better place to hide it than the birthplace of the founder of Gryffindor himself?"

"Godric's Hollow is the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor?" He asks, then clears his throat. "I mean, 'course it is. Obvious, isn't it?"

Hermione and I eye him knowingly. "Harry, did you ever even open A History of Magic?" I ask.

"Tossed it at Neville once when he was snoring, might've popped open." I laugh at his joke.

Hermione smiles, then rises, collecting her book and blanket.

"Hermione..." Words fail him. She reaches out, lightly strokes his hair as she heads toward the tent.

"Don't ever let me give you a haircut again."