EDITED: 02/21/2015

Chapter Fourteen

Olive had been so angry and caught off guard by Weasley showing up that she darted after him with clenched fists, not thinking that she was supposed to be Hermione. Her mind simply flooded with the need to harm him. When he dodged every hit, she turned to Potter, going after him with her arm outstretched. "Harry, give me my wand," she had demanded, knowing that by the time she dug her own from the jeans, they would realize she was an impostor.

Potter only smiled and held up a broken locket. Ron did the same, holding up a silver sword. Olive didn't know what the fuck that meant or how she was supposed to act, so she sobered and grew quiet. Since they were both smiling, she smiled, too, hoping that was the right reaction. Still, it was hard not to throw a punch at Weasley when she had the chance, but he had a big fucking sword and she had nothing.

Over the next few weeks, she learned they were hunting Horcruxes, though she hadn't figured out exactly what they were yet. The locket, apparently, was a Horcrux. All Olive knew was that they were out to destroy them.

Each night, when she laid on Hermione's cot, her mind drifted to Scabior. What had he been about to say when she left him for the last time? His brow had tucked, but she turned and left before he got to say what was on the tip of his tongue. It bothered her now, not knowing. It also bothered her not knowing what he was doing or thinking at any given moment. That was how she knew that as long as he was alive, she would fear him.

But, surely he thought she was dead.

Olive wondered what he'd done that night when she didn't come home. And again the next morning and every evening that followed. Scabior, always in control, always on top of any situation, would have no idea what happened to her. Olive could practically see him scowling, running over different scenarios in his head as to why she didn't come back, the lines deepened in his face for not knowing which was true. That was the only comfort she found in being stuck with Potter.

Unless Greyback had told him, of course. Sickness twisted in her stomach at the thought. He wouldn't, would he? Yes, he would. Eventually. If only to get the satisfaction of telling Scabior he'd plotted with Olive behind his back. Fenrir was a fickle, impatient man, but he wouldn't tell if he thought Olive was still alive. The question was if he did or not. She held onto hope that he still had Hermione stashed away and his mouth glued shut.

"Don't forget your promise," she whispered into the air one night while the boys took guard outside. That's why all this was taking so long. The boys had insisted on doing double guard while the third person slept after Weasley told them about being captured. Potter had almost triggered a Taboo and Ron freaked out, which led to the whole story.

"And that Olive girl was there with them," he said, after he'd finished the tale of his initial capture. Olive feigned surprise, but said nothing. "I couldn't figure out if she was with them or not. She lied for me and even snuck out that night to ask me a few questions. Kept lookin' over her shoulder all scared, like they were gonna come grab her up. But, they didn't have her tied up or nothin'. And she didn't try to run."

'Yes, I did,' she thought, 'He just kept finding me.'

That made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Something deep in her gut told her he would find her again. Scabior was a stubborn man. Even if he thought her dead, he would keep hunting until he found her body.

'It's just the paranoia, he'll be dead before long.'

But, now things were starting to look down. Olive wracked her brain constantly, trying to think of the best way to go about bagging Potter. Each time she held watch with him, she would tell herself that she was going to do it - disarm, bag, apparate - but she always lost her nerve. Everyone in Hogwarts knew Potter was advanced when it came to dueling. Growing up the same year as him, it was just known he was talented and special. It would be a feat to disarm him with her own wand, let alone Hermione's.

And disarming Weasley was out of the question. She could get his wand and bind him, but not before he would yell out and alert Potter. From what she'd seen and what she knew, she didn't think Harry would yell out for Ron because he wouldn't want to put him in more danger. And if it came down to bagging Weasley, she couldn't hurt him anyway, if she needed to. He was a pureblood and it was against her Vow.

Old Olive would have been hasty, sloppy, gotten herself hurt or killed. Now, Olive had the patience to wait it out, no matter how anxious it made her. Even as her glances around each new forest grew more frequent, the squirming in her stomach telling her they were going to be caught, she was patient.

The weeks were starting to run into one another. Each morning, when all three were up, one would go out and start the hunt for food, their stomachs growling in constant rhythm. If Olive was capable of missing any aspect of Scabior, it was that he at least made sure she was fed. Well, that and keeping her warm at night. The tent she shared with Potter and Weasley was thin and the chill seeped through the canvas. But, each time Olive thought of Scabior's steel grip around her, she shook it away with a shudder.

The two who hadn't gone looking for food sat inside and either brooded or discussed the Horcrux things. Olive had been faking an illness to cover for her jitters and her voice, which was the slightest bit deeper than Hermione's. She got through those conversations by clearing her throat every few minutes, as if she were sick, and staying quiet. If they asked her a question, she would pretend her voice had gone out for a moment and give them an apologetic look. Either that or just shrug.

Each night at first, she kept count of how many days she'd been with the boys. After 23, she forgot to count and lost track. That had been a week ago now. Maybe two.

And each day, she grew hungrier. Sometimes when it was her turn to sleep, she just couldn't no matter how tired she was. Olive would pull the covers over her head and lay there in a fetal position, clutching at her stomach to make it stop yelling at her. Sometimes it even felt like her stomach was squirming about, trying harder to get her attention.

Though the ringing in her ears was still constant, the nausea had died down, which she was most thankful for. Still, she sometimes felt a dry, tight feeling in her throat and chest, wanting a cigarette. At this point, she would probably eat it. Her mouth watered when she wondered if it would taste like cherry and her stomach gave another squirm at the thought.

It was about time for her to go on watch with Weasley, so she stood from her cot and stretched, grimacing at the way Hermione's jeans pinched her hips. It made her feel even worse for the girl. Olive had been with them for at least a month and, sometimes, when the boys were on guard, she would make her hands return to normal, watching them become thinner and thinner each time. Still, no matter how hard she tried, the rest of her wouldn't shrink. She often felt like a stuffed sausage in Hermione's clothes, glad the jacket was big enough to cover anywhere she looked larger than the girl. But, if only her hands had grown thinner over that month, how long had Hermione been hungry to have dropped this much weight?

Olive's thoughts were interrupted when she walked out to see both Weasley and Potter at the wooden table. It was unusual to not keep at least one person outside watching the woods for movement.

"Hermione, sit. We want your input," said Harry. Olive did as she was told and took the seat next to Ron. She wasn't sure what to think when his leg rested against hers, but she acted as if he weren't touching her and looked over to Harry with an expectant expression.

"That symbol we keep seeing," Potter started, "It has to mean something, otherwise Dumbledore wouldn't have drawn it in the book he left you."

Olive nodded with a serious expression, not having the slightest clue what he was talking about. When she would shuffle through Hermione's beaded bag, there were many books. She had no idea which one Dumbledore would have given her or why he would have given Hermione a book in the first place.

"It was on a grave, too, in Godric's Hollow, remember? Peverell."

Again, she nodded and this time Weasley spoke up.

"Harry said Luna's dad had a pendant of it on at the wedding. And we know he's safe, he's been on Harry's side all along, postin' what's really been goin' on in The Quibbler."

Olive didn't like this. It was hard enough having to figure out how to act in front of those two, she didn't want to throw a third person into the mix. And what were they even talking about? Loony Lovegood's dad? How did they know him? What wedding?

"They live close to the Burrow," continued Ron. "It might be worth a trip."

Silence rested between them. The last thing she wanted was to be seen out with Potter. It was a death sentence. Even being with him now was dangerous. Olive cleared her throat before she continued.

"Sounds risky," she muttered, clearing her throat again for good measure.

"Dumbledore wouldn't have written it in there if it wasn't important," argued Harry.

Olive had only ever spoken to their late Headmaster before she started Hogwarts and so she had no idea why he would write the symbol into some book and give it to Hermione. Feeling way in over her head, she grew silent. And staying silent is what landed her at Loony Lovegood's house about an hour later, Mr. Lovegood answering the door with wide eyes and a stutter.

Xeno, she learned his name was, seemed a nervous man. Kind, though. He made them all some awful, bitter tea and then they found themselves sitting in the awkward silence of his living room.

Finally, Xeno's gravelly voice carried through the room after he took a long drink from his cup, eyes flitting between their faces.

"How can I help you, Mister Potter?"

Harry, who was sitting closest to the strange man, leaned a bit closer.

"Well…actually, it was about something you were wearing 'round your neck at the wedding." Olive's eyes darted outside, scanning for danger. She didn't like this. "A symbol," Harry finished. Xeno drew a silver pendant from around his neck, holding it up for them all to see. Olive sat farthest away from him and it looked like some strange triangle at her distance. "You mean this?" Xeno asked.

Harry barely let a second pass before breathing, "Yes," and reaching out to touch the necklace. "That exactly. What we wondered is…what is it?"

Olive shifted in her seat. She knew far more efficient ways to interrogate and get the answers. "What is it?" Xeno repeated. "Well, it's the sign of the Deathly Hallows, of course."

"The what?" all three asked, though Olive's voice rung out a bit sharper. She wanted the answers and she wanted out of there.

"The Deathly Hallows," he said again. Olive threw a glance to Weasley to see if he seemed to feel the same impending doom she did. When he looked over to her, she could tell he didn't. 'Only paranoia,' she told herself, but she couldn't shake the bad feeling she had about Luna's dad. The men talked for a few minutes more, but Olive ignored them, eyes glued outside the window. It wasn't so cold anymore and some odd fruit was growing in the front yard. Other than leaves blowing in the breeze, there was no movement outside. Her eyes kept scanning, though.

When Ron nudged her, she looked over to the three, a quick jerk running down her leg.

"Do you have the book, 'Mione?" Ron whispered, though it seemed like a scream in the quiet room. What was the point in whispering when everyone could hear you? Potter and Xeno watched her with tense faces.

"Oh, yes, of course," she said, opening the beaded bag with dread. She hadn't the slightest idea which book she was supposed to be looking for. "You find it," she said, shoving the bag to Weasley. "My hands are shaking too bad, I'll knock everything over." Weasley gave her an odd look and her stomach clenched. Hermione was more of a control freak and probably would have never let Ron dig through her things. She would have to make up for it, do something very Hermione soon. Even Harry was watching her with a tucked brow.

Weasley muttered into the bag, wand in hand, and a book flew up and knocked him in the face. With the tense air in the room, no one so much as smiled and Olive felt bad when his ears burned red. Thankfully, though, he took it upon himself to open the book to a certain page before handing it back. In the top corner, she saw the same symbol scrawled in ink. "You want me to read?" she asked and all three nodded. Olive drew a breath, blinking to focus her eyes on the small print. The ringing was back in her ears and it sometimes made it hard to concentrate. She didn't realize it messed with her vision until now, when she was focusing on the tiny letters. Trees were all she ever saw and those looked about the same with blurred or perfect vision.

"There were once three brothers-," she said, voice giving a slight shake as if she were unsure, "- who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight."

"Midnight," Ron interrupted. When the men just stared at him, he turned to defend himself. "Mum always said midnight."

Olive was staring daggers at him as he turned back to look at her. All she wanted to do was get out of there before something bad happened and if he was going to interrupt, he could bloody well read it himself.

"Twilight's fine," he blurted, Olive looking back down at the book with a set jaw, "Better actually."

"Do you want to read it?" she said in a sharp tone. Xeno was at the window now, looking out. 'But for what?"

"Uhm, no," Ron muttered, ashamed he'd interrupted, and so she started again. This time he didn't interrupt and she managed to read the whole thing without stuttering from the twitches which ran through her spine. When she was finished, the men exchanged a few more words while she fumbled to get the book back in the small bag. Xeno was muttering to himself when she looked back up, shuffling around like a mad man, looking for something.

"Ah, here it is," he said, picking up a bit of charcoal. His hands were shaking worse than Olive's while he fluttered about for parchment, the three of them standing and crossing the room to see what he was going on about. In a moment of dark humor, Olive related to the man - she knew how desperate one could get for parchment and writing utensils. That made her think of the muggle motel, which in turn made her shudder.

Careful as ever, Xeno hunched over, drawing a straight line down the paper, his face tense in concentration. When he'd finished, he turned his head, holding back his scraggly hair with a hand so it wasn't in his face. "The Elder Wand," he declared, "The most powerful wand ever made." They stood in silence, the boys watching him with wide eyes as he turned back to the parchment. Olive thought they were all crazy, her eyes scanning the yard below instead. When she looked back, he'd drawn a circle on the line.

"The Resurrection Stone," he said. Without another word, he went on to draw the triangle that surrounded them. "The Cloak of Invisibility," he finished. Olive cast glances to both Potter and Weasley. This guy was as mad as his daughter. Every moment they were with this loony, they were putting themselves at risk. "Together they make the Deathly Hallows. Together they make one master of death."

"That mark was on a grave in Godric's Hollow," Olive offered, remembering what Harry had said earlier. Though she wanted nothing more than to get out of there, she knew she had to make up for her mistake earlier. Even though she only ever had one class with the girl, the Ravenclaws typically poked fun at Hermione because she felt the need to make everyone aware she was a know-it-all. Anxiety ripped at her chest, fighting the urge to look back outside. "Uhm," she continued, racking her brain for the name Potter had said earlier. "Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the three brothers?"

There. She'd done her part. That would sate the boys for today, now she could go back to silence and trying to steer them the fuck out of there. Olive hoped the man had no clue what she was talking about, so it didn't spin off into another lengthy conversation.

"Uh," Xeno said, more a huff of air than anything, "Uh, ugh, ah, Ignotus," he said, pushing through the three with a nervous jitter, his eyes looking anywhere except them, "Excuse me. And his brothers Cadmus and Antioch are thought to be the original owners of the Hallows and therefore the inspiration for the story." Each word blurred into the next in a nervous pace, Xeno now across the room with the tea kettle in hand. "Ah," he breathed, opening the lid, "Ugh, but your tea's gone cold." He snapped the lid, shoulders rocking now, and looked back up to them. "I'll be right back."

Olive wanted the fuck out of there now. There was something wrong with him, something he wasn't saying and she didn't like it one bit. As soon as the man stumbled down the stairs, Ron bent to grab his bag and muttered, "Let's get out of here," with the same sense of urgency that was coursing through Olive's body. She could have kissed him. "I'm not drinking anymore of that stuff, hot or cold." She wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but if he wanted to go, she would jump at any chance. Olive led the way down the spiral staircase that moment, not wanting to dawdle any longer.

"Thank you, sir," she said to Xeno's back. He'd been looking out the window again and Olive had to force a polite tone. From the corner of her eye, she found the front door. Always locate a way out.

"You forgot the water," Ron said once he made it down the stairs. There was a slight accusation beneath his words and Olive was glad someone else was picking up that something wasn't right here.

"Water?" Xeno asked, voice far away, like his mind was on something else. Olive eyed the door again.

"For the tea," Ron said, darkness in each word.

"D-did I?" Xeno stuttered with a laugh, turning around to properly face them. He began giggling a nervous, tittering noise as he brushed past them. "How silly of me!" Olive didn't like that he kept laughing and walked to look out of a different window.

"It's no matter," she said in a careful tone. "We really should be going anyway."

"No, you can't!" Xeno exploded, dropping the kettle from his hands. He crossed the room without looking at them, muttering like mad under his breath. Olive could feel her chest tightening, eyes glancing toward the door, where he was now headed. He slammed into it, back facing them. Her heart was beginning to beat a bit harder, knowing that as pitiful as he looked, he was blocking them from leaving and that was his intention.

"Sir?" Harry asked.

The silence was deafening as the man turned around and put his back to the door, darkness crossing his face.

"You're my only hope," he muttered, at least having the decency to look ashamed. The pause was so long it was uncomfortable, Olive shifting on her feet and looking out the window again. If need be, she would bust it to get out. "They were angry, you see. About what I'd been writing. So they took her. They took my Luna."

Olive opened her mouth to tell him they really needed to go, but he continued.

"My Luna." Now he was staggering toward them and she wished she had her own wand clutched in her hand and not Hermione's. This would not be a good time for a curse to backfire. When Xeno raised a hand to push back Potter's hair, Olive turned, looking out each window and for another door to escape through. Her heart was pulsing through her throat, her hands shaking. "But, it's really you they want," Xeno said to Harry, voice turning dark.

"Who took her, sir?" Potter asked.

Olive's breath hitched in her throat, her whole body tensing as her head whipped around.

'Who do you think took her, you fucking idiot? She's dead, what does it matter?'

Her stomach clenched when she saw the word forming on his lips, no time to stop him.

'Trap!' her mind screamed at her, 'Taboo!' But, she was unable to do anything except brace for the oncoming storm.

"Voldemort."

The same instant there was a screeching noise and their heads whipped around to the windows, seeing black trails of smoke whisk through the sky toward them at an alarming rate.

'No, no, no,' Olive panicked, breath caught in her throat, 'It wasn't supposed to go like this!'

They barely had time to duck before the curses came flying through the windows, Olive letting out a shrill shriek of surprise when she hit the floor and something exploded above her head.

'I can't die like this, I haven't seen Scabior die yet, no, please!'

Everything was exploding around them, bright flashes of light filling the whole house. The three were crawling, feeling out for each other in the confusion, flinching away from bits of flying glass. Olive's ears were ringing so loud that she clenched her eyes shut for a moment. It was all too much and her vision was swimming.

'Please, I can't die yet,' she was thinking to anything out there listening. 'I didn't come this far to die now.'

Outside the ringing in her ears, she could hear Xeno in the yard, screaming up at the attackers.

'Kill him,' she thought, crawling through glass and bits of flying paper. 'Fucking kill him, he deserves it, not me.'

Water splashed all over her back when the sink exploded, the loud noises filling every break her ringing ears gave her. They were close now, the three of them, all reaching out while debris rained down from every direction. They managed to crawl forward another few inches and grasp hands, gone in a heartbeat, one of the boys able to apparate all three. If she'd tried something like that, she was sure she would have splinched again. That would have been too much to handle with someone else's wand. When they landed, Olive could still hear the echoing of the house falling in, spreading out among the forest they were now in. They laid still for a moment before stirring and when she looked around, she froze. She knew those bare, thin trees. Scabior had them camp there quite often and had designated it as the place to meet up if the Snatchers got separated.

"Treacherous little bleeder," Ron declared when he stood, anger and betrayal etched on his face. "Is there no one we can trust?"

'No,' Olive thought, trying to get on her feet as Harry brushed past Weasley.

"They kidnapped her because he supported me," Potter said, pulling his backpack off and slinging it to the ground. "He's just desperate."

They looked at each other for a moment while Olive got situated on her feet. She didn't want to be here, she wanted out. This was not a place they wanted to set up camp.

"I'll do the enchantments," Ron muttered, heading down the hill past Olive. Let him put them up for now, they'd be safe for the time being and when they calmed down, she would convince them to move. Potter walked off in another direction, so she went away from both the boys, not wanting them to see the tremors racing down her arms. Olive sighed, heart still racing from the close call. She kept her eyes glued to the ground, wary of roots that would snag her.

Olive didn't hear Ron come to an abrupt stop. She didn't hear the Snatchers stand from hiding or Potter turn to see them surrounded. Her body was frozen, eyes locked on the boots in front of her. She knew the dagger poking out the top. Then she registered the plaid trousers. Even though she didn't want to look farther, she made herself finish the trek to his face, taking a nervous step backwards. Scabior cocked his head to the side, nostrils flaring in the slightest as he drew a long breath.

"Hello, beautiful," he said, eyes storming with darkness. Olive took another step backward, a strangled noise escaping her throat, and glanced over her shoulder to see if the boys had noticed him. She sucked in her breath when she saw they were surrounded. Her eyes found Greyback and he gave her a wide-eyed look. "Run," he mouthed.

All thought was gone now, but she still registered the smirk that crossed Scabior's face when her body gave a small convulsion as she turned to run. If the scent weren't enough, that confirmed it. Olive's ears were ringing, one long blaring noise that never seemed to stop as fear carried her feet off into the trees as fast as they could.

"Well, don't hang about," she heard Scabior declare. "Snatch 'em!"

Olive's heart was pounding in her throat as she dipped around trees and ducked beneath limbs, each breath a frantic whimper. Potter and Weasley were ahead of her and she could hear the Snatchers behind them, hear the noise of Scabior's dagger slamming against the leather of his boot with each step. That noise was right on her heels and she sped up, taking an abrupt left turn and vaulting over a log. When she heard someone land behind her and Scabior curse, she knew this was it, this was far too personal for Scabior to mess up. Olive ducked back to the right, heartbeat pounding in her ears, but she could hear him right behind her, practically feel his huffing breath on her neck.

Olive knew he was going to capture her.

Third time was his charm. Third time he might kill her.