'Ron, no – please – come back, come back!'
Despite Hermione's desperate cries, I carried on walking, with no idea where I was going or what I was doing. I felt numb, like i was just a useless shell of a person, which, in truth, I was. What good was I to them – Harry was the chosen one, Hermione was the brains of the operation – where did that leave me?
"Ron! RON!"
I squeezed my eyes shut; trying to use all the willpower I had left to block Hermione out. If i let myself let her in, let myself believe she cared about me as anything more than friends – I couldn't afford that slip up. If I did, my resolve would falter.
"Ron, please!" Hermione was begging now, and the sheer sound of her forlorn, broken voice was enough to make me turn back and wrap her in my arms, tell her how sorry I was.
"Please, come back, come back!" Hermione paused, her voice breaking. "Please don't leave"
I stopped, pain suddenly feeling like paralysis, demobilising. I wanted to go back, so badly, and god, I loved Hermione so much – so what was stopping me? My ego, most probably. I'd never hated myself as much I did at this moment in time. I was in complete shock of what I'd just done, something I swore to myself long ago I'd never do. I needed to go back. Had to. I never meant to leave, it was just one of those spur of the moment things that you always live to regret seconds after you do it.
Making the biggest mistake of my life, I walked on, Hermione's wavering sobs now just background noise.
I carried on walking for about 5 minutes, totally unthinking and unfeeling. I was fully aware of what I'd just done and what that would cost me, of the consequences, and what a bastard I was. But I also knew I wasn't ready to go back and face my mistake yet, so I aimlessly wandered forwards, not caring where I was headed.
It wasn't a surprise really that I didn't even notice the group of 4 men standing right in front of me.
All of the men looked worn and menacing, and I couldn't help but wonder if they were death eaters. They had that look about them. I looked around hurriedly for a place to turn and hide, but it was too late - it was a one way path and the expression on their faces told me they'd already spotted me.
"Bugger" I muttered. I didn't recognise any of them but they certainly looked ominous and I didn't want my cover to be blown.
I barely had time to get my story straight in my head before they moved towards me as one mass. Immediately, the tallest bloke grabbed me by the hair and had me in a tight choke hold, his other arm around my waist, restraining me. Another of them snatched my wand and shoved it in his back pocket in the same instant.
I quickly surveyed the other bandits – they looked more grimy than threatening, but I didn't want to take my chances. The three remaining men slowly drew nearer to me, and it was clear which one was the leader of the group - he had the sinister gleam in his dark eyes that the others didn't possess. The bloke in question came almost nose to nose with me, closely followed by the 3 lackeys. I wrinkled my nose; one of them was definitely part troll, judging by the putrid smelling odour radiating off him in waves.
"Ooh, Scabior, looks like we've got another one!" Troll guy exclaimed excitedly.
"Yeah, this one looks 'Ogwarts age, what do you reckon, Scabior?" another one put in happily.
Scabior held up a hand, apparently not wanting to get ahead of himself, although he too had a slimy, gleeful grin plastered across his weathered face. "Now, hang on. Let's at least give the boy a chance to explain himself. If he fails to do so, the ministry can have him. Simple"
Scabior leaned in closer to my face, so much so that I could smell his dog-like breath too easily. "So, who have we got here?" He sneered, all but spitting in my face.
"Why?" I shot back, automatically regretting it when i got a punch in the gut. The lack of sleep had obviously made me extra cranky.
"Answer 'im, ginger, or I'll do a lot worse" The man holding me hissed in my ear.
"Hold up, Rook" Scabior cautioned him, turning back to me again. "Because, ginger, we're trying to find all the muggleborns and blood traitors out there, see. Drag them to the ministry for...questioning. And you look Hogwarts age. So explain yourself, and do it quickly. It's been a long day and my patience is wearing thin, i might make a mistake."
My brain suddenly felt so jumbled that I could conjure up only one person who might do. "Stan Shunpike"
This caused collective laughter, or sneers, to erupt between the men. Or, most of the men. Scabior's expressionless mask didn't falter.
"You don't honestly believe him, do you Scabior?" The bloke holding me jeered.
"I don't know" Scabior replied, glancing around his gang. "Have any of you ever seen Stan?"
No one answered.
"Scabior, you're not telling me you trust him!" Troll guy yelled angrily. "He could be lying through his ass for all we know!"
"He could" Scabior agreed, scanning me over once again, "But I'm tired, it's late, and we have no way of finding out. What say you we leave him for now?"
"WHAT?" Troll guy sounded outraged, Scabior plain fed up. "Do ya think the ministry will be pleased if we let a muggleborn or blood traitor slip through our fingers?"
"No, but we can't take him if it's Stan! He's neither. We'd get no gold for that"
I used this row to my advantage and before they could realise what was happening, I punched the guy holding me in the nose, grabbed his wand, and then spun around to expelliarmus the bloke holding mind. Knowing without a doubt where i wanted to be, I quickly disapparated back to where Harry and Hermione were.
Much to my annoyance, i came out miles from the piece of riverbank where they actually were, and managed to splinch myself in the process. Luckily, I'd only lost two fingernails – the fact that all my appendages were still intact was a bonus.
Nevertheless, I set off along the riverbank, knowing I was ages away, but keeping an eye out for any signs of them. It took around 45 minutes to reach the area where we'd been. However, as I approached the exact spot where we'd been, i noticed the tent was gone – everything was gone. They were gone. I threw up my hands in frustration – it was all my fault and now i might never find them again. I did know that i couldn't stand around and wait for them to come back – they never would.
So where did i go now? I had to leave- they weren't coming back. Pushing that awful truth to the back of my mind, I tried to think desperately of somewhere i could run to, someone who wouldn't judge me. I couldn't go home, that was for sure. I could just picture the ribbing Ginny would give me for walking out on them, not to mention what my Mum would say. I didn't want to endure either one of their wraths, thank you very much. I couldn't go to Charlie – he was too far away and most likely far too busy to help – and Percy didn't even factor into the equation – lot of good that first class tosser would be to me. So that only left one person. The one person I prayed wouldn't judge me, who would take me in without asking too many questions or thinking badly of me – Bill. He and his new wife Fleur, who I was sure, would not welcome my presence, were spending their first Christmas alone together at Shell Cottage. I had nowhere else to go, and besides, I'd always been closer to Bill than to my other older brothers. I just hoped now that he could forgive, he could understand.
I took a deep breath and slowly, turning my back on my last shred of hope, pulled my wand out of my pocket, filling my mind with thoughts of Shell Cottage.
The feeling was all too familiar by now – There was a distinctive cracking sound, followed by the very unpleasant sensation of somebody compressing your insides and sticking them in a narrow, rubber tube. Then, however, I felt my feet hit solid earth...or, sand, to be exact. I quickly checked my surroundings and, with a sigh of relief, realised I'd only disapparated a few feet away from my destination, having landed on the beach Shell Cottage looked out onto. To tell the truth, I was a little surprised – my apparating skills had never been top rate and I usually managed to either splinch myself or overshoot my destination. Lately, Hermione had been travelling via side along apparition with Harry and me, so I'd never really had to practice. With this thought, another wave of pain washed over me like a tsunami hitting the shore, and I shut my eyes, rooted to the spot, pain suddenly feeling like paralysis, demobilising – for it was times like these that hit home, made me realise how much I missed her. Of course I missed Harry too- what I said to him was out of line, but it was different to the way I felt about Hermione. That said, I'd abandoned them both, and whether they could ever forgive me...I could only hope.
Strangely, there was a black cloud overhead here too; it seemed like the weather had gauged my mood. I looked up at Shell Cottage- the lights were still on, the curtains across. Judging by the dim light, I could guess that it was early evening, but I wouldn't know. Time had become of little importance to the three of us the past few months – I wouldn't even know what month it was. I knew I had to go in – I was sure I looked like a loony, standing in the middle of the beach alone at dusk, having an internal debate with myself. So, slowly, I began to walk to the cottage, but really, my brain and my feet weren't working in sync anymore. My brain was numb and jumbled; my feet seemed to move of their own accord. My legs felt heavy as lead all of a sudden, probably because each step i took felt like pain.
I barely realised I'd reached the cottage until I saw the large white gates leading to the house. Wrenching them open, I walked past the garden that Fleur had arranged, full of daisies and dancing pixies, and ended up at the doorstep. I took a deep breath to steady myself; I could sense the onslaught that would no doubt come from telling Bill my predicament, and rapped nervously on the shell adorned door, hoping stupidly that they might be out. No such luck. A moment later, the porch light flicked on and i could see my brother Bill's tall form approaching.
"Ron?" he asked, opening the door, as I looked down, wringing my hands. "What are you doing here at this time of night? Wait..." he began, his expression turning suspicious. I cursed inwardly. I knew what question was coming next. "Where are Harry and Hermione? I thought you three were off on some mission." He stood back to let me through the door.
I held up one hand feebly. "They're both fine" I replied, my voice unusually low and quiet. "And yeah, we are on that mission of Dumbledore's." I paused, the words unwilling to form. "Well, they are at least."
"What?" Bill looked even more confused. "Then why aren't you..."
I bit my lip and gradually raised my head to meet Bill's gaze. "I, uh, I left them"
There was a moment's silence, then, to my utter astonishment, Bill put one hand on my shoulder and ushered me into the living room, cosy and quaint, with a cottage feel and furnished with modern furniture, shells adorning the windows and mirrors. It was clear to see that Fleur had gotten her way when designing the place – it seemed much more girly than Bill's tastes would have allowed. Gesturing for me to sit down, Bill sat opposite me, staring intently at my face for a while before speaking. I wasn't sure what he saw there.
"So, what made you leave just like that? Or did they make you leave?" Bill asked eventually.
I opened my mouth to explain, but soon realised I didn't know how. How was there any way I could justify what I did? There wasn't. "No, it was my choice to leave" My voice sounded barely above a whisper as I fought to explain my decision. At this point, Fleur walked in, her long ice blonde hair wet and dressed in a fluffy dressing gown. Her mouth opened into a small 'o' as she took in my presence, turning to Bill with an expectant expression.
"Bill? You deedn't tell me ve had visitors?"
"Ron needed some help, a place to stay"
Fleur nodded slowly and I was both extremely thankful and surprised that she chose to ask no more questions. "Well, I can zee zat zis is a brother to brother talk, so I'll be upstairs if you need me. I'll sort out Ron's room" And, with a graceful pirouette, she turned and retreated back up the stairs, though not before reaching over to kiss Bill quickly on the lips.
I kind of hoped I wouldn't have to carry on the story, what with the interruption, but my brother wasn't going to let me off that easily.
"You didn't leave Harry and Hermione?!" Bill's tone was suddenly reproachful – a voice I'd feared hearing.
I nodded, sure I was going the famous Weasley shade of red by now.
"But surely they need you! You're all on a mission together, it could be dangerous! What possessed you to just get up and go?" Although Bill's deeply scarred face was hard to read, I didn't need an expression to know that Bill was angry with me.
"It wasn't that simple" I managed, desperation evident in my tone. "It was kind of an accumulation of things really. This...mission we're on, it's proving to be a lot more difficult than I originally thought it'd be, different to what I imagined when I signed up, you know. It's more dangerous, for sure." Gesturing to my mangled arm, I went on. "My arm's buggered up to start with, and we're out there facing god knows what every day...in a freezing cold tent, with no food. Or, no decent food, at least." I paused, wondering if I'd said too much already.
"What exactly are you three doing, anyway? I understand its super secretive but-"
"Exactly" I cut across Bill. "Which is why I can't tell you. You're better off not knowing anyway" I muttered. As far as I saw it, Dumbledore had put Harry in enough danger putting him up to this mission, which, naturally, ended up including me and Hermione, putting her in danger too. We offered to go with Harry. Fight Voldemort. Something which, as ashamed as it made me to think it, I sometimes regretted. There was no way i was dragging anyone else into the same mess, especially not family.
"Those weren't the only reasons you left though, I hope?" Bill prompted.
"Course not. I knew what conditions it'd be in, I just..." I stopped, hanging my head. The blame I'd put on Harry...he didn't deserve it. He had the biggest burden to carry after all. "Just thought Harry had a concrete plan, thought he knew what we were searching for, but he's just as clueless as me and Hermione" Ignoring the pain I caused myself with the mention of her name, I forced myself to push on. "I figured we'd have made more progress by now. But we're all just flailing around blindly, clutching at straws, Harry included. I know it's not his fault, I realise that now. It's nobody's fault. That's how the mission was meant to be. Difficult. I'm just a quitter, I guess."
Bill sighed, and I could see disappointment in his eyes, which, for me, was worse than seeing the anger. Not that I could blame him. Disappointed was just an understatement of how I felt about myself. "You realise what a wrong decision that was now, right? They're your best friends – all you had to do was tell them how you were feeling – leaving was an overreaction. You do realise how much it's probably hurting them now you're gone? Like you said, they're out there facing god knows what, and now they're one down" The anger and disappointment was beginning to fade from his voice, now replaced by a more soothing tone. He was completely right though and had voiced something I selfishly hadn't thought about much. Running out on them did leave them one down, it made them more vulnerable. I knew I didn't have the magic know-how that Harry and Hermione had, but if they were attacked without me there...they might not have enough power ...especially if they were largely outnumbered.
"I know, I know. I wanted to come back the minute i turned my back on them...Hermione...She called me, begged me to come back..." I squeezed my eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out Hermione's desperate voice, her sobs...Oh, why did i have to be such a tosspot? "I...I tried to find them again, but they'd gone. After i left them, i disapparated, only to run into some Snatchers...I managed to escape by telling them i was Stan Shunpike, and I tried to disapparate back to the tent, but, you know what my apparating's like...i ended up miles off, and when i eventually reached the riverbank...they were gone." I felt the need to show Bill i was remorseful after all. The last thing I wanted on top of everything else was for my own brother to think I didn't care about anyone or anything. Because I did.
"I'm sorry, Ron" Bill replied quietly, "But all that matters is that everyone's alright and that you've realised your mistake. You can always try and find them again later..." I smiled grimly, suddenly glad that he wasn't harping on about it.
I shook my head, focusing my gaze on the wooden floorboards. "I doubt it. Not with all the protective enchantments Hermione's been casting around the tent. Not even the FBI could get past them. "
"It'll work out. You never know. Now, it sounds like Fleur's got your room ready – why do you get some sleep? You've had a long day."
"Thanks" I paused by the door, forcing a weak smile for Bill's benefit. "For everything. Letting me stay here, understanding...I appreciate it."
"No problem. You can stay as long as you need. And, don't worry, i won't tell Mum or the rest of the family. You're safe."
I let out a sigh of relief. I could just imagine Ginny's reaction if she found out...not pretty. "Again, thanks"
Bill nodded. "Goodnight"
I muttered a goodnight, and then trudged up the stairs to the room Fleur had gotten ready for me – again decorated with shells, though not in such large quantities. It was clearly the larger of the two guestrooms and had been decorated with what one what might call a nautical style. Two walls were pale and whitewashed, the other two a pale blue. There was a bedside table next to the bed with a small radio atop it, and the large bay window behind the bed overlooked the sea, which was still rising and swelling to an irregular rhythm.
I wasn't in the mood to appreciate the beauty around me, however. My eyelids felt heavy and my legs ached; it wasn't until Bill mentioned it that I realised just how tired I actually was. Flopping down on the bed, i was well aware that I wouldn't manage to sleep at all that night. How could i, after all that had happened? How could I manage to drift off when I couldn't repress Hermione's sobbing, what that might have meant for the pair of us?
I reached over to kick the bedside table- why did I have to keep hurting her? Lavender last year, just to make her jealous after I heard about her kissing Victor Krum, and now leaving her and Harry when she needed me the most, for no real reason whatsoever other than ? No matter what I did, I caused her pain. She didn't deserve that – She deserved someone who would stick by her through whatever, who would take care of her, even when things did get messy. And the funny thing was, I always thought I could be that person for her. Still thought that. Hell, I loved her. More than anything, and I'd die if anything happened to her. I knew I was in love with her pretty much from fourth year onwards, but through the years, I always managed to bugger up my chances with her, when things were going well. I thought that after sixth year and what we'd been through this year that she might feel the same way about me. I still thought she might. So, then, why did I say that to her? The words echoed through my mind like someone yelling them out in a cave- 'I get it. You choose him'. They had left my mouth before my mind had processed them, and is instantly regretted them. Of course I knew she didn't love Harry, or at least, I hoped not. I guess I couldn't blame her if she did. Harry was a far more skilful wizard than I knew I could ever be and he could provide Hermione with everything she ever wanted, everything I couldn't.
My eyes snapped open at this new found revelation – there was no way I could let that happen. And the longer I stayed here, the more chance there'd be of Hermione realising Harry was better for her than me. And there was no chance on earth that I was surrendering her without a fight – not that she was mine to surrender in the first place. I knew I couldn't leave and start apparating randomly around Scotland - I'd never find them that way. So I decided that it would be in my best interests to stay at Shell cottage until inspiration struck, until I got some kind of clue as to their whereabouts. I could never give up. Like Bill said, they're my best friends; I knew I had to go back. To be honest, i figured, still thinking of Hermione, I wanted to go back. Needed to. Harry told me once that he admired how, after every petty argument or fight me and Hermione managed to get into, we still managed to find our way back to each other. On reflection, I supposed he was right. Maybe our relationship did just get stronger with every obstacle we overcame. This war...it was just another obstacle. I was just as bad as the death eaters if I did nothing to help. Shutting my eyes at this bleak fact, I got under the covers and attempted to clear my mind, forcing myself into slumber...anything to get away from the plaguing feelings of overwhelming guilt and despair.
Time seemed to pass extra slowly for me, probably because I tried to spend as little time as possible with Bill and Fleur, mainly because the latter always gave me strange advice, like she knew exactly what my problem with Hermione was. We were eating breakfast one day and I must have been looking more miserable than ever, because she turned to me and said quietly: 'She'll forgive you, I know it.' Still, somehow, I couldn't bring myself to agree, no matter how much I wanted to. Bill, on the other hand, had long since dropped the issue, which I was extremely grateful for, and always managed to steer the conversation to lighter topics when I was around. Another reason I wanted to escape their company was that they had always been very lovey-dovey with one another, which only reminded me of what I'd left behind. They tried to tone it down when i was in their vicinity, but, as much as I respected their efforts, nothing really helped. When they worked and during the alone time I so often craved, I listened to the radio beside my bed, as they had a new live show on, Potterwatch, that detailed what Harry was up to at all times, which of course, included Hermione. It became an easy way to keep tabs on them and make sure they were safe, because if anything bad were to happen to them, Potterwatch would be the first to report it. I listened regularly every day; just in case something had happened while I was away...i couldn't bear the thought. The hosts were all familiar voices, like Lee Jordan and Lupin, which provided some comfort.
A month passed and Christmas soon arrived. I managed to escape from Bill and Fleur's planned festivities early on Christmas morning, mainly because I was tired of forcing cheeriness for their sakes. To be honest, I had to get away – Christmas just wasn't the same without the usual company of Harry and Hermione round mine. It was odd – I'd grown so accustomed to just having them there with me all the time, especially on special occasions, that when they weren't, it felt like something was missing. That is why I was now alone in my room, listening to Potterwatch on Christmas morning. Even if I couldn't be with them, listening to Potterwatch made me feel a little closer to them. Sprawled out on my bed, I shut my eyes, letting the familiar voices of Potterwatch soothe the troubled surface of my mind.
'Remember...remember Ron? When he broke his wand, crashing the car?'
My eyes snapped open. I knew that voice. My heart suddenly accelerated into overdrive and I felt dizzy, sort of like warm mush was being pumped through my veins. But it couldn't be her. She wasn't here. I must have been imagining it. It wouldn't be the first time. I sat up, leaning closer to the radio. Potterwatch had just finished. Then where was-?
'It was never the same again; he had to get a new one'
Hermione. It really was her. The voice I thought he'd never hear again was coming out of my pocket. The deluminator! I thought suddenly, pulling it out of my jeans pocket. It was lit up, and vibrating softly. My eyes widened – what the hell was it doing? All I'd ever known it to do was put out lights, or provide light when there was a lack of it. Not knowing what else to do, i clicked it, and instantly all the lights in the room were sucked back into the deluminator. However, I wasn't in darkness much longer. Immediately, another light appeared outside the window, hovering above the garden. Mesmerized, I moved closer to the window, but it was too dark to really see the strange source of light clearly enough. For some reason, I felt compelled to check it out – It felt like the odd light held the answers I had been looking for for so long.
Safe in the knowledge that Bill wouldn't mind, as he'd said himself that I'd find them again, I hurriedly grabbed the small bag I'd brought with me, and, shoving what little clothes I'd carried into it, threw my rucksack onto my back. Bill and Fleur had gone out to dinner with friends, so I scribbled a thank you note to them, explaining briefly what happened and where I was headed. I didn't want to be apart from Harry and Hermione any longer, so I ran down the stairs two at a time and yanked the back door open. Walking into the garden, i had no trouble locating the source of the light I'd seen from my window. It was directly below my window, about 5 feet or so off the ground. It was shaped like an orb, and had a bluish luminescence to it, emitting an eerie glow over Bill and Fleur's neatly arranged back lawn. The orb was pulsating, and reminded me vaguely of the kind of light you got around a portkey.
Without warning, the orb floated higher off the ground, and I stared after it, both confused and anxious as to what it was trying to tell me. I didn't have to guess much longer though – the light turned and flew straight at me – or, straight into me to be precise. I could feel it's warmth inside me, in the area just beside my heart, not like a burning sensation, but more pleasant, like the light was changing me, filling me with new knowledge. It was at that moment that inspiration struck, the inspiration I'd been waiting to receive for weeks. And I knew I would be forever grateful to whatever higher power had sent it to me, because suddenly, I knew how to find Harry and Hermione. I knew where to go. It felt like the information had been in the back of my mind for a long time, but was awakened by the unknown force. Grabbing my wand out of my jeans pocket, I filled my mind with only thoughts of Hermione, of where I wanted to be, and disapparated on the spot. The uncomfortable experience was over before I could blink, and was soon replaced by the feeling of my feet on wet ground.
Opening my eyes, I scanned the area I'd ended up in – I was on a hill, on the side of a riverbank, which was covered in snow. Glancing up at the sky, it was clear that the snow had stopped falling now, but it was thick on the ground. I wondered idly if Harry and Hermione were having a nice Christmas. I shook my head – wishful thinking much? I just hoped it wasn't a dangerous Christmas.
I suddenly realised with a start that the riverbank was quite vast – how on earth was i supposed to find them? Best try the obvious way first, i thought.
"Harry! Hermione!" I yelled, wandering around the hillside, looking for any signs that they had been there, or were still there. A tent, footprints, anything. Although, I thought with a grimace, Hermione would have made sure all that was protected from people who were trying to find them. People they didn't want to see. People like me.
"Harry! Harry!" I tried to be even louder. I had to believe they'd be able to make out my voice through their protective enchantments, impossible as it seemed.
"Hermione! Hermione!"
"HARRY! HERMIONE!"
This calling out went on for about 15 minutes, until i realised what a lost cause it really was. The protective enchantments were so strong that a single voice, no matter how loud it was, could not penetrate them. Strangely, though, I still felt them there. It felt to me like they'd been there. Why else would the deluminator have sent me?
It was late evening, and the only visible light was that from the moon. I knew I had no hope of searching for Harry and Hermione in said conditions, so I pulled my sleeping bag out of my rucksack and laid it out on the driest patch of grass I could find. I decided that even if I had to wait for them for a week, if it still felt like they were here, I would wait. After all, I'd gotten pretty good at waiting the past month. Crawling under the thin covers, I laid back, hands over my head. Again, it seemed like another sleepless night was upon me. There was no way i was going to let myself sleep for even a moment, not when I might miss them.
I stayed inside my sleeping bag for nearly an hour, until i realised sadly that i must have missed them. I'd neither t heard nor seen anyone in the hour that I'd waited, excluding the odd deer or bird. Still, i was confused. There I'd thought the deluminator had sent me somewhere I could find them...instead it had just dumped me on the side of a hill, Harry and Hermione nowhere to be found. I yanked the deluminator out of my pocket in irritation, only to find it lit up once again. Intrigued, I clicked it, and the bluish, or-shaped light flew out, right into my chest, once again. Also once again, I was filled with the knowledge of where to find Harry and Hermione, this time, it was a new destination. My failure the last time this happened notwithstanding, I grabbed my wand and disapparated, this time ending up in lush green woods, the treed higher than the eye could see. I sighed – the woods? Even larger than the hill, by a thousand times. However, this destination felt right; it felt like I'd find them. I wasn't sure where this new found certainty was coming from, but it was a positive change to the way I'd been feeling before.
I repeated my routine of calling out for them for a solid half an hour, wandering around every inch of the woods I could find...but still no response, and no sign that they were there. Not that there would be, I added to myself.
Despite my lack of success, I still felt certain I'd see one of them. Deciding it would be best to be wide awake, I laid my sleeping bag out on the floor and doubled it up to sit on. I was sure I'd have to see one of them eventually.
20 minutes passed, and I was beginning to doubt even my own self-assured attitude. What if i was wrong? That wouldn't be an odd occurrence.
I didn't have to doubt myself much longer though. About 5 minutes later, I heard a rustling sound, and the soft padding sound of footsteps coming from the trees ahead of me. I sat up straighter, listening as closely as I could, my brain going into overdrive. Please let it be Harry or Hermione, Please, I begged inwardly, desperate to see a familiar face. The footsteps suddenly slowed, so I moved a little closer, wondering what had stopped them. Then I saw it. It was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, though certainly not alive – it was a Patronus. Not one I recognised, however. It was a silver doe, but it didn't have corporeal form; it was almost an ethereal being. Yet, as strange and unexpected as the creature was, it was beautiful, and I couldn't help but look at it with a kind of fervour, in awe of whatever or whoever had sent it.
I was so engrossed in this fascinating being that I nearly jumped out of my skin when it's eyes blinked and it ran off to the right of me in a trot. Then came the one thing I'd been begging for. I caught sight of the Harry's back running after the doe, as if he was following it. Although I was still fairly far away from then, I could see the doe turn and twist to face Harry every now and then, like she was teasing him, wanting him to follow him.
I smiled wider than I had in a long time – I'd found them! At long last! Quickly, I picked up my sleeping bag and stuffed it in my rucksack – I had to follow Harry before I lost him again. I threw my rucksack onto my back and took off at full speed in the direction that I'd seen him go. I didn't get very far, though. I suddenly realised I didn't know exactly where he'd gone – there were so many dark paths, lined with huge trees – he could have gone anywhere. I stopped in the middle of the woods and listened. Out of nowhere came out a very loud splash, abruptly confusing me. Water? Where on Earth-? I glanced around desperately, and only after scouring every inch of the forest nearby did I see water.
It was a fairly small pool of water, just below a canopy of leafy trees, and it looked bloody freezing. So much so, that as soon as I stepped into the surrounding area, I was frozen – even my bones felt cold. I moved closer to the pool, still confused. If there was a splash, then where was Harry? I peered into the surface of the pool and gasped, finding Harry at the same time.
What an idiot. Harry had obviously jumped into the freezing water to retrieve the very object now floating on the surface of the pool, but he'd forgotten to take the horcrux off. I could easily make out Harry's body under the water, struggling, apparently caught up, probably on the necklace, I assumed.
Carefully, I leant over the edge of the pool and tried to grab Harry that way. No luck.
Sighing, I knew it was time for me to freeze too. Taking off my rucksack, shoes and jacket, I took a deep breath, and slipped into the icy water. It was like every nerve ending in my body was screaming at me to get out, but I had to save Harry. I hadn't come this far to stand back and let my friend die. Submerging myself completely under for a brief moment, I quickly untied the locket from around his neck, having to break it slightly in the process, and grabbed the floating sword on the surface, throwing both objects onto the forest floor. Then slowly, I clambered out of the pool, Harry over one shoulder.
After laying him down on the snowy forest floor, I checked to see if he was breathing. Luckily, he came to in a matter of seconds, coughing and spluttering icy water everywhere.
Picking up the Gryffindor Sword and the horcrux necklace, I stood over him, bearing an incredulous expression. I had never doubted his bravery and I was well aware that he would go to any length to defeat Voldemort, but really, for a smart boy, he didn't have a lot of common sense. I was now dripping from head to toe as well, my hair plastered to my forehead like a curtain of weeds.
"Are – you – mental?" I demanded, panting heavily.
