SALEM ᵈ ᵐᵃˡᶠᵒʸ

ix. The Sword in The Lake

"ARE you sure?"

"Positive," Ron said, frantically shoving his clothes into his backpack along with his other belongings.

I had followed him to his bedroom as much as my injured leg could endure, my headache long gone as my mind reeled with questions upon questions.

"Ron," I started carefully, "you have to absolutely be sure about this. Maybe—what if you had been dreaming? I don't know how many shots of Firewhiskey you had last night but—"

"Margo." He paused to grasp my shoulders and look me in the eye firmly. "I have never been so sure of anything in my life."

"Ron—"

"Do you trust me?" he suddenly asked.

My mouth closed, taken back at his words. "Yes—of course—yes, I do."

"Then trust me on this, please."

I started to nod slowly. "Alright, okay. That means I'll need to start packing too."

When he didn't say anything, I took that as my cue to head towards my own bedroom to begin.

I trusted Ron, I really did. But his news brought a real turn of events I didn't expect to come across anytime soon.

Maybe I was being selfish; having spent a mere few weeks in a house with everything I needed before me made me feel like never going back, to simply forget the mission and let them handle it. But I knew I couldn't do it. I will not allow myself to leave them on their own, the amount of guilt that will put on my conscience would consume me.

So with my jaw set in determination, I started packing all my clean clothes lying on the chair, double-checking the room to see if I missed out on anything before changing out of my pajamas; gently enough that I wouldn't strain my leg too much.

I paused, staring at the white bandage wrapped around it. I considered it for a second or two, before slowly unwrapping it to inspect how much of it my leg had healed and winced.

It wasn't as bad as the first time I saw it. The skin running from my ankle till my mid-calf were completely healed over — thanks to some drops of Dittany — but they stood out against my skin like mountain ridges across plains of land. The smaller cuts, mostly on my foot faded into white scars.

I cut a length of new bandage to wrap around my foot, adding a bit of padding for support since I knew I'm going to walking for quite some time.

A small a sense of dread filled me. I just hope that there'd be no running involved.

Once I was completely ready, I took one last glance at the bedroom before me and left for the kitchen downstairs, where Ron was already discussing about our departure to the newlyweds.

Fleur found me first and went over to place a brown paper bag in my hand. It was warm to the touch and when I breathed in, I smelt the scent of something freshly baked.

"Good luck," she said to me before kissing my cheek.

I smiled slightly. "Stay safe, the both of you," I told her and Bill.

Bill pulled me in for a quick embrace. "Kick some arse, kids."

"I hope it doesn't have to come to that," I said with a nervous laugh.