Evening, Muggles (or witches and wizards. Or timelords. Whichever you fancy). This chapter is much shorter than the others, but I figured I owed you guys one after months of disappearance, so I went ahead and did a new one to keep you guys busy while I work on the next one (which will be longer, I promise!).

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It sucks. If I had my way, there would be a Marauders series.

...

Levina let out a shaky gasp and her eyes flew open. Her entire body was sore and she felt as though she might lose her breakfast if she made any sudden movements. She shifted slightly, trying to figure out where she was. Leaves and twigs crunched underneath her back as she slowly sat up, realizing that they were in some kind of forest. With a pained groan, she moved onto her hands and knees, gathering dirt on her robes.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione lay close nearby. They were all also struggling to move, emitting small moans as they slowly stirred. Levina crawled feebly over to them, her arms feeling like jelly.

"Where are w—?" Levina began unevenly, but she broke off as her gaze fell upon Ron. His entire left side of his body was drenched in sticky, crimson blood. His face was pallid-grey, his hair reddening back into its normal color.

"What's happened to him?" Harry demanded.

"Splinched," said Hermione, her fingers already busy at Ron's sleeve, where the blood was wettest and darkest.

Levina wanted to turn away as Hermione ripped Ron's shirt open, sickened by the sight before her, but was unable to avert her eyes. She'd never been good at Apparition herself (an understatement), but she never would've expected to lose more than an eyebrow or strand of hair. He had always thought of Hermione moved Ron's bare arm, where a great chunk of flesh was missing, scooped cleanly away as though by a knife. Levina turned sharply away, nearly vomiting what little she had in her stomach.

"Harry, quickly, in my bag, there's a small bottle labeled 'Essence of Dittany'—"

"Bag—right—"

Levina sprung to her feet and hobbled over to Hermione's tiny beaded bag, digging through the contents hurriedly. She ruffled through several books, jumpers, shoes, and other supplies, fumbling to find the bottle.

"Quickly!"

Levina snatched up her wand from the ground and pointed it into the depths of the magical bag.

"Accio Dittany!"

A small brown bottle zoomed out of the bag; she caught it and tossed it to Harry, who caught it like a Snitch and hastened back to Hermione and Ron, whose eyes were now half-closed, strips of white eyeball all that were visible between his lids.

"He's fainted," said Hermione, who was also rather pale; she no longer looked like Mafalda, though her hair was still gray in places. "Unstopper it for me, Harry, my hands are shaking."

Harry wrenched the stopper off the little bottle, Hermione took it and poured three drops of the potion onto the bleeding wound. Greenish smoke billowed upward and when it had cleared, Levina saw that the bleeding had stopped. The wound now looked several days old; new skin stretched over what had just been open flesh.

"Wow," said Harry.

"I love magic," Levina breathed, sitting back with a relieved half-smile.

"It's all I feel safe doing," said Hermione shakily. "There are spells that would put him completely right, but I daren't try in case I do them wrong and cause more damage... He's lost so much blood already..."

"How did he get hurt? I mean—" Harry shook his head. "—why are we here? I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place?"

Hermione took a deep breath. She looked close to tears.

"Harry, I don't think we're going to be able to go back there."

Levina turned sharply in her direction, thinking she must have misheard her. "Wait, what?"

"What d'you—?"

"As we Disapparated, Yaxley caught hold of me and I couldn't get rid of him, he was too strong, and he was still holding on when we arrived at Grimmauld Place, and then—well, I think he must have seen the door, and thought we were stopping there, so he slackened his grip and I managed to sake him off and I brought us here instead!"

"But then, where's he? Hang on... You don't mean he's at Grimmauld Place? He can't get in there?"

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she nodded.

"Harry, I think he can. I—I forced him to let go with a Revulsion Jinx, but I'd already taken him inside the Fidelius Charm's protection. Since Dumbledore died, we're Secret-Keepers, so I've given him the secret, haven't I?"

Levina sat back again in the leaves, defeated. She was right, and there was no denying it. If Yaxley could now get inside the house, there was no way that they could return. The house, gloomy as it was, had begun to grow on Levina, becoming a home to her. She'd gotten used to curling up in Regulus' bed, staring at the posters on the wall as she drifted off to sleep. And Kreacher…Levina felt a stir of guilt and pity whirl around in her insides. He would be back in the kitchen right now, laboring over a steak-and-kidney pie that would only be served to Death Eaters. The poor thing would be scared out of his wits…

"Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be stupid, it wasn't your fault! If anything, it was mine..."

Harry put his hand in his pocket and drew out Mad-Eye's eye. Hermione recoiled, looking horrified. Levina cringed and averted her eyes from it, not able to bear seeing it any longer.

"Umbridge had stuck it to her office door, to spy on people. I couldn't leave it there...but that's how they knew there were intruders."

Before Hermione could answer, Ron groaned and opened his eyes. He was still gray and his face glistened with sweat.

"Good morning," said Levina, glad to see him finally stirring.

"How d'you feel?" Hermione whispered.

"Lousy," croaked Ron, wincing as he felt his injured arm. "Where are we?"

"In the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup," said Hermione. "I wanted somewhere enclosed, undercover, and this was—"

"—the first place you thought of," Harry finished for her, glancing around.

Levina felt a sudden longing for the reminiscence—though it had turned into a nightmare in the end, the Quidditch World Cup was a fond memory. It was the first time she'd discovered her color spell, and the game itself had been spectacular—certainly better than any football game she'd ever attended. And the previous night, she'd been sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag when Fred rolled off his bed and onto her, keeping them both unintentionally warm through the night…

"D'you reckon we should move on?" Ron asked, snapping Levina out of her thoughts.

"Maybe. I don't think you should be doing a whole lot of moving, though."

Ron still looked pale and clammy. He had made no attempt to sit up and it looked as though he was too weak to do so. The prospect of moving him was daunting.

"Let's stay here for now," Harry advised.

Looking relieved, Hermione sprang to her feet.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron.

"If we're staying, we should put some protective enchantments around the place," she replied, and raising her wand, she began to walk in a wide circle around Harry, Levina, and Ron, murmuring incantations as she went. Levina saw little disturbances in the surrounding air: It was as if Hermione had cast a heat haze upon their clearing.

"Salvio Hexia... Protego Totalum... Repello Muggletum... Muffliato... You could get out the tent, Harry..."

Levina blinked. "Tent? What tent?"

"In the bag!"

"In the... of course," said Harry.

Harry used Summoning Charm, and within seconds, the tent emerged in a lumpy mass of canvas, ropes, and poles. Levina immediately recognized it as the same tent in which they had slept on the night of the Quidditch World Cup.

"It's a good thing we've got you 'round," Levina sighed as she sat back on the palms of her hands. "I would've just thrown some sticks together."

"I thought this belonged to that bloke Perkins at the Ministry?" Harry asked, starting to disentangle the pent pegs.

"Apparently he didn't want it back, his lumbago's so bad," said Hermione, now performing complicated figure-of-eight movements with her wand, "so Ron's dad said I could borrow it. Erecto!" she added, pointing her wand at the misshapen canvas, which in one fluid motion rose into the air and settled, fully constructed, onto the ground before Harry, out of whose startled hands a tent peg soared, to land with a final thud at the end of a guy rope.

"Cave Inimicum," Hermione finished with a skyward flourish. "That's as much as I can do. At the very least, we should know they're coming; I can't guarantee it will keep out Vol—"

"Don't say the name!" Ron cut across her, his voice harsh.

Harry, Levina, and Hermione looked at each other.

"I'm sorry," Ron said, moaning a little as he raised himself to look at them, "but it feels like a—a jinx or something. Can't we call him You-Know-Who—please?"

"Dumbledore said fear of a name—" began Harry.

"In case you hadn't noticed, mate, calling You-Know-Who by his name didn't do Dumbledore much good in the end," Ron snapped back. "Just—just show You-Know-Who some respect, will you?"

"Respect?" Harry and Levina repeated at the same time, but Hermione shot him a warning look; apparently they were not to argue with Ron while the latter was in such a weakened condition.

"We could call him the 'No-Nosed Menace,'" Levina suggested. Ron laughed, but Harry and Hermione still looked sore on the subject, so she let it drop.

Harry, Levina, and Hermione half carried, half dragged Ron through the entrance of the tent. The interior was exactly as Levina remembered it; a small flat, complete with bathroom and tiny kitchen. Harry shoved aside an old armchair and lowered Ron carefully onto the lower berth of a bunk bed. Even this very short journey had turned Ron whiter still, and once they had settled him on the mattress he closed his eyes again and did not speak for a while.

"I'll make some tea," said Hermione breathlessly, pulling kettle and mugs from the depths of her bag and heading toward the kitchen.

"Sounds heavenly," Levina commented dreamily, curling up on the top bunk above Ron. She was mentally and physically exhausted at this point, wanting nothing more than to fall into a deep sleep.

Silence fell among the group as they sipped at their tea. No one quite knew what to say, so they merely drank until there was none left. Levina set her still-warm mug aside and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Then Ron asked:

"What d'you reckon happened to the Cattermoles?"

"With any luck, they'll have got away," said Hermione, clutching her hot mug for comfort. "As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, he'll have transported Mrs. Cattermole by Side-Along-Apparition and they'll be fleeing the country right now with their children. That's what Harry told her to do."

"Blimey, I hope they escaped," said Ron, leaning back on his pillows. The tea seemed to be doing him good; a little of his color had returned. "I didn't get the feeling Reg Cattermole was all that quick-witted, though, the way everyone was talking to me when I was him. God, I hope they made it...If they both end up in Azkaban because of us..."

Hermione watched Ron fret with a tender expression, one that made Levina's heart both swell and ache at the same time. She wished they would just confess their feelings for each other—their affection was so obvious, it might as well have knocked Levina sideways with a batting ram. But as she watched Hermione gaze upon him, she felt a stir of longing for Fred; he always looked at her like that. She shook the feeling away—there was no time for moping around right now.

"So, have you got it?" Harry asked Hermione, partly to remind her that he and Levina were there.

"Got—got what?" she said with a little start.

"What did we just go through all that for? The locket! Where's the locket?"

"You got it?" shouted Ron, raising himself a little higher on his pillows. "No one tells me anything! Blimey, you could have mentioned it!"

"Well, we were running for our lives from the Death Eaters, weren't we?" said Hermione. "Here."

And she pulled the locket out of the pocket of her robes and handed it to Ron. Levina leaned over the side of the bunk for a better look.

It was as large as a chicken's egg. An ornate letter S, inlaid with many small green stones, glinted dully in the diffused light shining through the tent's canvas roof.

"There isn't any chance someone's destroyed it since Kreacher had it?" asked Ron hopefully. "I mean, are we sure it's still a Horcrux?"

"I think so," said Hermione, taking it back from him and looking at it closely. "There'd be some sign of damage if it had been magically destroyed."

She passed it to Harry, who turned it over in his fingers. He ran his thumb over it, looking deep in thought for a few minutes. Then he passed it to Levina and she held it by the chain with a critical expression.

"I reckon Kreacher's right," said Harry. "We're going to have to work out how to open this thing before we can destroy it."

"Anyone have a knife?" Levina suggested, though she knew it had to be more difficult than that. She used her nails to try and pry it open, even going so far as to try and use her canine teeth to gnaw it free, but neither attempt worked.

Levina handed the locket back to Ron and Hermione, each of whom did their best, but were no more successful at opening it than she had been.

"Can you feel it, though?" Ron asked in a hushed voice, as he held it tight in his clenched fist.

"What d'you mean?"

Ron passed the Horcrux to Harry. After a moment or two, Harry made a face and handed it back to Levina. She gripped it in the palm of her hand, trying to understand what he meant. But a moment later, she knew. It felt like a little heart beating against her skin. However, it wasn't warm and calming, like listening to Fred's hear beat against his chest. It felt unnatural, sickening, even…She promptly dropped it and Harry caught it by the chain.

"What are we going to do with it?" Hermione asked.

"Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it." Harry replied, and he hung the chain around his own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath his robes.

"I think we should take it in turns to keep watch outside the tent," he added to Hermione, standing up and stretching. "And we'll need to think about some food as well. You stay there," he added sharply, as Ron attempted to sit up and turned a nasty shade of green.

With the Sneakoscope Hermione had given Harry for his birthday set carefully upon the table in the tent, Harry, Levina, and Hermione spent the rest of the day sharing the role of lookout. Levina kept her Wary Bangle clamped tightly on her wrist, for extra measures. However, the Sneakoscope remained silent and the bangle stayed cold all day, and whether because of the protective enchantments and Muggle-repelling charms Hermione had spread around them, or because people rarely ventured this way, their patch of wood remained deserted, apart from occasional birds and squirrels. Evening brought no change; Levina curled up in her bunk as Harry took his watch at 10 o' clock, and although she was exhausted, sleep would not come.

Levina's stomach groaned and her head ached. She had split the roll she'd packed (mostly for a joke) that morning with the others, but sincerely wished now that she'd put more in. They'd had some wild mushrooms that Hermione had collected from amongst the nearest trees and stewed in a Billycan, but after a couple of mouthfuls Ron had pushed his portion away, looking queasy; Harry ate most of his, most likely to please Hermione and her efforts, but Levina wrinkled her nose and shoved it openly away. She hadn't meant to be rude, but werewolves did not typically live off of mushroom stew.

Levina chewed the nail on her thumb. Thankfully, she'd taken the photograph of her father and Destiny's parents with her, so she could continue to look at it. She fingered her aqua necklace, wondering whether it was actually doing her any good these days, and turned the ring Fred had given her around and around on her finger. These were all the comforts she had at night, whilst the others slept—material objects. She tossed and turned, aware of the weight of her own body, her heavy limbs and slumped shoulders…

Just as Levina finally began to drift off, a sudden scream outside the tent startled her awake. She hopped to her feet, skidding as she jumped off the bunk, and snapped to a frailly stirring Ron, "Don't move; we'll check it out."

Levina and Hermione hurried out of the tent, finding Harry passed out on the ground, sprawled out with his glasses askew.

"Harry!"

Harry moaned a little, rubbing his head, and sat upright. "Dream," he said, trying to look innocent. "Must've dozed off, sorry."

"Oh, come off it, dummy." Levina crossed her arms over her chest and set him with a glowering look. "You're a terrible liar."

"I know it was your scar!" Hermione chimed in. "I can tell by the look on your face! You were looking into Vol—"

"Don't say his name!" came Ron's angry voice from the depths of the tent.

"Fine," retorted Hermione, "You-Know-Who's mind, then!"

"I didn't mean it to happen!" Harry said. "It was a dream! Can you control what you dream about, Hermione?"

"If you just learned to apply Occlumency—"

Levina groaned. "Hermione, would you just drop it already?" She turned her attention to Harry, expression stern. "Harry, what'd you see?"

"He's found Gregorovitch, Levina, and I think he's killed him, but before he killed him he read Gregorovitch's mind and I saw—"

"I think I'd better take over the watch if you're so tired you're falling sleep," said Hermione coldly.

"I can finish the watch!"

"No, you're obviously exhausted. Go and lie down."

She dropped down in the mouth of the tent, looking stubborn. Looking enraged but probably not wishing to argue, Harry ducked back inside. Hermione nodded to Levina. "You, too. You can take the next watch."

Ron's still-pale face was poking out from the lower bunk; Levina climbed back into the one above him, lay down, and looked up at the dark canvas ceiling. After several moments, Ron spoke in a voice so low that it would not carry to Hermione, huddle in the entrance.

"What's You-Know-Who doing?"

Levina could hear Harry stir a little before answering, his bunk bed creaking. "He found Gregorovitch. He had him tied up, he was torturing him."

"How's Gregorovitch supposed to make him a new wand if he's tied up?"

"I dunno...It's weird, isn't it?"

"I guess the No-Nosed Menace didn't really think that one through," Levina murmured, leaning the side of her cheek into the pillow.

"He wanted something from Gregorovitch," Harry said quietly. "He asked him to hand it over, but Gregorovitch said it had been stolen from him... and then... then..." Harry paused.

"Yeah? Then what?" Levina whispered.

"He read Gregorovitch's mind, and I saw this young bloke perched on a windowsill, and he fired a curse at Gregorovitch and jumped out of sight. He stole it, he stole whatever You-Know-Who's after. And I... I think I've seen him somewhere..."

Levina breathed steadily now, her expression a blank slate as she stared at the ceiling. After a while, Ron whispered, "Couldn't you see what the thief was holding?"

"No... it must've been something small."

"Harry?"

The wooden slats of Ron's bunk creaked as he repositioned himself in bed.

"Harry, you don't reckon You-Know-Who's after something else to turn into a Horcrux?"

"I don't know," said Harry slowly. "Maybe. But wouldn't it be dangerous for him to make another one? Didn't Hermione say he had pushed his soul to the limit already?"

"Yeah, but maybe he doesn't know that."

"Yeah...maybe," said Harry. Then, as though they'd shared a sudden thought, Harry and Ron both uttered small gasps of realization.

Levina turned over again and looked at Harry, frowning at the look of alarm in his darkened features. "What?"

"What if…" Ron swallowed. "I mean…I dunno how You-Know-Who would even be able to take your power…"

Levina continued to stare at him, frowning. Then a squeak caught in her throat. "You don't think—I mean, you don't…?"

Harry and Ron nodded grimly. "He might be hoping to turn you into a Horcrux."

"Oh. Right…Um, yeah. It's…possible." Levina swallowed hard and turned away again, trying to not show them how scared she really was by the idea. She'd never really questioned how Voldemort was going to obtain her power…But it made perfect sense. If he killed her, then he could harness her soul (and therefore power) into a Horcrux.

Thus the conversation ended, leaving Levina in an even worse state than before. If he could harness her powers…She was only aware of some of them herself, but she had a feeling Voldemort would quickly discover them, should he get his hands on her. She trembled involuntarily.

It wasn't until hours later that Hermione ducked back into the tent. Levina hadn't slept a wink, but she insisted the opposite, climbing down the ladder. She lit her wand as she swapped places with Hermione, checking her watch—4 in the morning. She looked out uponthe deserted scene, noting the bats fluttering high above her across the single patch of starry sky visible from their protected clearing. She exhaled a long-held breath and sat down, snapping a twig as she did so.

Inspecting the Wary Bangle on her wrist, Levina caught a glimpse of her reflection in the silver. She looked a downright mess…Her red hair was tangled and askew, her brown eyes were heavily draped with dark rings, and she had flecks of dirt and dry blood all over her pallid skin. She played with a leaf, trying to distract herself. Too many thoughts plagued her weary mind, and sooner or later, they would truly get to her. But this was only the beginning, she had to remind herself, and she'd have to prepare herself mentally for much worse.

...

Hey, guys! So I realize this chapter is considerably shorter than my others, but if I combined it with the next one, it would have been too long. I'm trying to make an effort to even out my chapters and make the stories longer, since we're nearing the end. Bear with me!