Track me
Seven days left.
Harry couldn't help but feel an impending sense of doom. He had been through a lot of tight situations in his life despite not even being in his thirties - definitely more life-threatening events than people see in seven lifetimes - but he always came out on top. Bent, bruised, but never broken.
At least that's what he liked to think. (His night terrors were resolutely ignored while making the statement.)
But it was never this bad.
Ginny looked up from finishing the final touches of the last few invitations and stretched her arms. She rolled her eyes at Harry's expression.
"Geez, people would think that I'm taking you to a slaughterhouse with the face you are making," she huffed. Then she squinted at him and added, "You are not having any second thoughts, are you?"
Harry furiously shook his head and said, "No, Merlin, no! I mean it's such a big step and," he hesitated, "are you sure you are alright with this?"
"You think I'd go through with it if I didn't want to?" Ginny deadpanned.
Harry wilted even more.
Ginny pulled his hair. Hard.
"Ow!"
Harry's pout was hilarious.
Ginny surreptitiously put the hair she removed in a special container inside her pocket and smiled.
He shivered.
Five days left
.
Neville gently took the pruners away from Harry's hand. "Are you that worried about it?" He couldn't help but ask.
Harry blinked, as if coming out of a trance. Then he smiled bashfully, "That obvious, huh?"
Neville just smiled at him. He stood up, absentmindedly patting the murtlap before taking off his gardening gloves.
"It's all fixed Harry, let's go back inside."
He came once every month to help Harry with the plants in the little greenhouse Harry had built in his new home. It was a costly thing but gardening was something that was nostalgic and therapeutic to Harry - a little bit of reprieve from the preparations.
As they sat in the drawing room, sipping on the tea Mimsy, Harry's house elf had prepared, Neville collected his thoughts. "I know it is a big change for you, but you are not doing this on a whim, are you?" He waited till Harry shook his head and continued, "I understand how scary it is to have good things happen, but if anyone deserves it, it's you."
Harry looked on the verge of crying.
Neville suddenly jumped up from his seat and tugged at his hair, "Oh no, you have dandruff? I have this perfect remedy for it - "
"Ow," Harry said once again in a matter of a few days.
Three days left.
"We'll be late Harry - would you please stop loitering outside the Gringotts?" Hermione was very close to shaking him bodily.
He just let out a heavy sigh.
"We're just collecting the cuff-links your father left behind - you looked better when you walked to your death." She glared at him to get the point across.
"Really, mate, if you don't want to go through it, I'd understand. No one would judge." Harry was pretty sure Ron wasn't trying to sound condescending.
The force of glare of Hermione transferred to the ginger.
"Shouldn't you be saying the opposite?" Harry asked.
Ron shrugged. "It's her we are talking about. I should be more worried about you."
When they finally reached home after a long session of getting glared at by goblins, they dropped on the sofa, exhausted.
"Merlin, it was so long ago!" Ron exclaimed. "Is there any need to still give us the stink-eye?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Harry got up. "I've to use the loo."
They nodded listlessly, still sprawled on the sofa.
The situation changed as soon as Harry left the room.
Hermione hissed, "Did you have to say that stupid stuff?"
Ron looked nonchalant. "It's reverse psychology." He paused. "You don't think he will actually run, do you?"
Hermione gnawed on her lips before coming to a decision. "It's Harry."
"So should I pull his hair, or do you want to do it?" Ron asked.
Hermione gave him the you're-such-an-idiot-why-do-I-put-up-with-you look and summoned Harry's comb which had a few strands of his hair stuck on it.
"Oh," said Ron.
"Yes," deadpanned Hermione.
Xxxx
"It went off without a hitch, huh," Ron laughed.
"I'm sure Harry wouldn't have run from his own wedding. Still, it doesn't hurt to make sure. He didn't really have dandruff," Neville sighed, sending an apologetic look towards Harry which the latter missed.
"Wait - you too? You actually pulled his hair?" Ron asked excitedly, giving Hermione a smug look.
Neville's ears turned red.
Hermione sighed. "Well, it seems like we didn't need to use the tracking spell."
"Avenseguim."
Ginny dressed rapidly and followed the hair in the little glass bottle she had kept in for visibility.
It was late at night and Harry was nowhere to be seen in their house - Ginny tried not to show how worried she was.
The dreams of his still form in Hagrid's arm didn't make it any better - except in those dreams, he never woke up.
The spell had brought her to a well known place.
"Hah," a relieved sigh escaped her lips. "It's Godric's Hollow," she muttered to herself.
To be more specific, the cemetery.
She went to silently stand beside him. Harry sat and stared, unblinking, at his parents' grave.
"I wish they were here to attend the wedding today," Ginny murmured.
Harry nodded imperceptibly. "Me too."
Ginny touched his shoulders. "Let's go home."
Harry shook his head, as if getting rid of a trance. He got up and clutched her hands in his.
"Yeah. Home." Harry finally smiled. "I have found a home."
THC/The Houses Competition.
House: Slytherin
Class: DADA
Prompts: [Spell] Avenseguim.
Drabble.
Word Count. Total 966.
Beta. charlotteredmond99