79. Strawberries

Harry and Hedwig released a sigh of relief once they returned to camp. He was worn, covered in ash, and limping. Hedwig had some burn wounds, missing feathers, and spots of blood tinting her feathers pink. To Harry's frustration, the compass was insistent on pointing to the next Horcurx's location. A clear impatience was seeping into his person.

With a firm rejection, he pushed down its influence. Harry sat at on the log by his designated campfire spot. He placed Hedwig besides himself and made to look closer at her injuries. There was a hoot from the tree above him and slim owl descended. It walked around Hedwig and made another cry. A much larger owl came down and lifted Hedwig onto its shoulder. The slim owl nearly hissed at Harry when he began to question them. When they were satisfied with Hedwig's positioning on the larger owl, they returned to the dense foliage of the trees around him.

As concerned as he was, he was sure that the owls knew better of what Hedwig needed. She had done more than enough for him already and should rest now. Harry retrieved his stolen good. In the light, the cup shined radiantly, a testament to the heritage behind it. Though tainted, he could feel the devotion that was placed into its creation. It was just like Tom to crush and belittle the efforts of others. That was why he was here. That was why he had to stop Tom. Tom was a sickness that needed to be purged for a healthier magical world.

Reaffirmed, Harry placed the cup on the ground before him. He clenched his fist once, twice, and thrice and reached for the cup. Miasma erupted from the cup like the blackest smoke from raging forest fires. There was a resistance from the poison fog that burned against his bare flesh. But it was fruitless; he lurched forwards and forced his way into the cup. Murky waters rushed out spilling over the brim of the cup and a foul odor rattled his senses. His gloved hand enclosed Tom's very essence nestled within the cup. A look of finality formed on Harry's face and he tightened his grip more and more. A deranged voice cried out in fear and pain as he squeezed tighter and tighter. Then the essence was gone.

The miasma cleared away for the fresh forest air while the polluted water evaporated leaving the ground dry.

"I see that your journey is already yielding results," a suddenly appearing Teleute mused aloud. She was in the midst of leg stretches.

Startled, Harry nearly leapt from his position on the log.

She made no effort to hide her childish amusement from his surprise.

"Please don't surprise me like that. You'll be the death of me," he complained with no heat or actual annoyance. Now noticing her attire, he asked her, "Why are you wearing that?"

Teleute sported a full black tracksuit. The top had piercing like rings on the zipper, lining of the pockets, and left side of the hood. Her trousers had white spider web accents. With her hair wrapped up and a black headband on, she looked the part of punk fitness trainer.

"You would not believe the double time I'm pulling right now," she huffed, truly aggrieved. Taking a break from her stretching, she pointed at the cup, "You are a step closer now. Is this shaping up to be what you wanted?"

Harry's eyes lingered on the cup, "Wanted? Sometimes I don't think I know what I want. I want to be left alone, but I felt hurt and betrayed when those at Hogwarts turned on me and I cast them aside. I want to peacefully live a life of magical exploration and peace, but I'm compelled to put an end to Tom. I like to take things away from him, make him weaker and weaker. He deserves nothing less than death."

Teleute was directly at his side now, "Deserve eh? No one deserves death, it just is. A lifetime is all anyone gets. People just need to be reminded of that fact more firmly than others. You, my dear, are getting awfully dramatic." She playfully poked his forehead before sweeping her hand through his unruly hair, "Though, I can't say that I completely dislike that fire in you. Still, you shouldn't dwell too much in those feelings."

She stopped caressing his scalp and pushed his hair away from his forehead, revealing his scar in its entirety. Teleute frowned, "Never forget that I walk by your side, even if you can't always see me."

Her eyes lingered on his with such intensity that he wanted nothing more to squirm and blush, but eased himself into her affections.

She blinked and stepped away from him and placed a hand over her heart, "You must find me foolish with my affection. I used to think that only my brother could fall so hotly and deeply into this state. I suppose he and I come from the same stock."

"Foolish?" he questioned with disbelief, "I don't think you're foolish at all. You're just concerned for my wellbeing. Though, I admit that it's frustrating that so many people hide important facts from me and say it's for my own good." At this Harry looked meaningfully at Teleute.

She said nothing, but her eyes were vivid. The light nearly flickered against them and her conviction shined through, her decision firm. Beneath all of that was undeniable love and affection.

"… but when you say those words, I can't muster that frustration. I don't know if you can ever tell me what you know, but I choose to believe that your silence is for my sake." To Harry, his words were fact. Even if everyone else gave up on him or turned on him, he trusted her to stand by his side.

Teleute kneed beside him and gave him a soft kiss, her lips tickling her partner's, "Thank you for that trust. I will do my utmost to be worthy of that trust."

Harry couldn't imagine any other case.