All alone in the World
Disclaimer: I have no business connection with HARRY POTTER. My only purpose in writing this story is to have fun and maybe share it)
Chapter 1 Day 65
(Author's Note: this story takes place late autumn during DEATHLY HALLOWS, after Ron's departure)
Harry Potter looked out of the tent entrance into the woods. Tonight it was his turn to keep watch, to make sure that nothing sneaked up on Hermione or himself during the night. But nothing had happened, either tonight or the thirty-something previous nights where he had been look-out. He almost wished something WOULD happen, simply to give him the chance to do something.
Out there, he knew, thousands of people were suffering under the rule of Voldamort, pinning their hopes on the prophecy that Harry Potter would appear and liberate them. And here Harry was, accomplishing nothing. Even the subsidiary mission of tracking down Horcruxes and destroying them had stalled.
Nearly everything that they had accomplished so far had been Hermione's work. It was Hermione who had planned out what they would need in hiding and stashed them all in her Bottomless Handbag. The Bottomless Handbag itself had been her inspiration. It was Hermione who had had the foresight to withdraw all of her Muggle and witch-world money from their banks, so that the refugees had untraceable cash to purchase food. If Bill and Fleur hadn't followed suit and gotten Harry's own funds withdrawn and exchanged at Gringotts, they'd be living off Hermione's savings now. It was Hermione who had realized that the Black mansion in London was compromised and that they would have to give it up for months of tent-dwelling. And yet she never complained about bearing too much of the burden. It was her share of defeating Voldamort.
It was time for Harry to do something, but Harry had no idea what.
Light in the east. Harry had been lookout frequently enough to guess the time, even without looking at his watch. Another half-hour and, by their agreement, his time as lookout would be done. It was arbitrary. Who knew when Death Eaters might find and attack them?
When the half-hour was up, he went in the tent, and looked at the sleeping Hermione. For the first six years years of their friendship he had been barred from her room in Gryffindor tower, yet ever since Apparating to the Black mansion they had been forced to share sleeping quarters. Harry was careful to keep some distance. "Hermione, it's morning."
She got up and stretched. "G'd morning. 'Scuse me. Gotta freshen up," she muttered. She walked to the washroom, still half asleep.
Harry turned his attention to breakfast. Scrambling eggs was beyond him – they always burned – but at least he could use a mild heating spell to toast muffina, and spreading butter and jam was simple. Hermione shouldn't be saddled with cooking along with everything else.
Hermione came back out. "Freshen" was relative. Her hair had always been bushy and difficult to manage, and it had grown in recent months. Her jeans, tough as impeccably clean as a spell could make them, looked worn. Harry knew that he looked no better. Visiting a clothing shop or a hair stylist wasn't worth the risk, and who was around to judge their appearance? The whole point was not to be seen at all.
Harry put that thought out of his head, and pondered something else that had been bothering him. Maybe it was time to bring it into the open.
"Hermione?"
"Mmm-hmmm?"
"Have you ever regretted deciding to be a witch?"
She frowned. "I was born with the power whether I wanted it or now."
"But you could have chosen a Muggle school instead of Hogwarts. With your brains, you may have won a scholarship to Oxford or Cambridge by now. Me, I didn't have much choice. As a Muggle I'd just be the Dursley's poor relation. Basically a nobody."
"Hogwarts seemed so much more fascinating than a Muggle day school. Besides, well, I think the Wizard World needs Muggle-borns like me. TO keep them in touch with the rest of humanity. The pure-blooders never understand that."
"What do you mean?"
"Not everything bad in the Wizard World is You-know-who's fault. Look at Elves. During the 1700's Muggles had extensive debates about slavery, and finally decided that it should be suppressed, wherever it was found. I was shocked to learn that my best friends owned Elves as slaves, and thought nothing of it. They were too isolated from progress."
"I see," said Harry guiltily, thinking about Kreacher.
"When – if – we ever get rid of You-know-who, I'm going to campaign against slavery again. This time throughout the Wizard World, not just at Hogwarts. Wizards can adapt. More spells, or maybe grit their teeth and actually learn some Muggle technology. The Weasleys have never needed Elves."
Three years ago Hermione's political agenda had seemed funny, particularly since the Elves themselves never complained. But Harry had been at the receiving end of brute force for months, as well as seeing the effects of slavery close-up in Kreacher. Hermione was right, about elves in particular and learning from Muggles.
"Then there are the dementors. With the Muggles, there are rules for how you treat prisoners. No reason to terrorize somebody when you've got them firmly in custody. But the prisoners have to contend with creatures that the Ministry can't even control properly. The wizard world ought to fight dementors, not use them."
"Right. If we ever get rid of You-know-who--"
Ever since Ron's departure, Harry and Hermione had worked out their schedule. Whoever had been lookout the previous night would take a nap after breakfast, while the other would set out to the nearest town, looking for Horcruxes and gathering supplies. The traveller would return by sundwn, share supper or tea, and take his or her own nap until it was necessary to stand watch.
Thus, Hermione set out from the tent, and got in his bunk and snoozed for a few hours, getting the fatigue out of his system. After a small lunch, he picked up one of Hermione's textbooks from under her bunk and studied it. Normally that would be Hermione's responsibility, but they were no longer at a point where they could divide responsibility like that. If he was wandering around a town alone, he had to be able to recognize a Horcrux, or clues leading to one, without being able to consult Hermione.
Around two-thirty there came a sudden flash of light, followed by a loud bang. Harry pulled his wand out and stood at alert, fearing an attack by Death-Eaters. Then he realized that a thunderstorm had come up, and that phenomena were ordinary thunder and lightning.
The magic tent ought to hold up against heavy rain or even falling branches. There was nothing much one could do to avoid the damage of a lightning strike, but there was low probability if it hitting their tent directly. The main problem was rainwater flowing in through the tent flap, and Harry set up a shield charm against that.
Should he seek out Hermione? There were dangers in that. Travel more than a few feet from the tent, and their own spells would work against them, making the tent invisible even to its owners. Lose track of the tent, and living off the country might be impossible. It was crucial for somebody to stay with the tent at all times.
Hermione might have an umbrella in her Handbag; failing that, she could use a charm to repel the raindrops. Trust her to handle the situation.
But as teatime came and went, and it started to become dark, it was time to start worrying. They had only arrived in this section of England yesterday, and had little familiarity with these woods. They had learned to set up subtle landmarks near that tent to avoid getting lost, but once the sun set those marks would be hard to spot. They were ALWAYS careful to come back before nightfall.
The rain itself had subsided. Harry stood at the opening of the tent, peering through the woods for Hermione. With luck she might be wandering nearby. But there was no sight of her. She might have gotten lost further away. She might still be in town. She may have suffered some Muggle-world accident like being hit by a car, or the Death Eaters might have gotten her.
Harry took a deep breath, but stopped himself from calling out. If there WERE Death Eaters or their allies around, calling out the name of a fugitive Muggleborn, known to be close friends with Enemy #1, would be a giveaway. He and Hermione hadn't really planned to deal with this situation.
Was it possible that Hermione was gone, and that Harry would have to fulfill his quest alone?
TBC