So, here's another. Lots of time passes though, months, really. Just saying (because I'm fairly sure they were on the run for about nine months or more, almost a year). I switched views differently to get different perspectives on things, but that's nothing new by now, I think, though I did do Harry as well this time. Anyway, well...here you go!

The next morning, Carina awoke alone and sprawled across the chair she had fallen asleep in. With a groan, she sat up and ran a hand through her hair, turning her head from side to side to rid herself of the crick in her neck. Had she really slept that badly?

Well, no. But the position I slept in definitely hadn't been the best.

It took her a moment to realize that Ron Weasley was absent, before she remembered what had transpired the night before.

Oh. Yeah. I attacked the bastard and he left.

But, she did not care. After all, what good had he really been, anyway? They didn't need him. She glanced over at Harry and Hermione, who were sitting in silence at the table, eating more salmon for breakfast, and could feel her stomach twist.

I don't need him, but they do. He's Harry's best friend, and Hermione...She swallowed and got to her feet, making her way to the table to sit down and grab a plate.

Carina did not eat much. The silence that followed was not pleasant, either, as they all packed up the tent and their things; during this process, Hermione dawdled, and would sometimes look up with a hopeful expression on her face, as though she had heard footsteps in the forest. It would set Harry off as well, and she found herself noticing that the boy would occasionally glance up as well, as if expecting his other friend to come walking out of the forest.

She sighed and grasped Harry's hand in her own, and he took Hermione's; they spun on the spot and apparated away, finding themselves on a windswept, heather-covered hillside. As soon as they arrived, Hermione dropped his hand and went to sit on a large rock, face in her knees. Carina knew she was crying, and carefully approached as Harry began their protection spells, seemingly unable to stand the sight either.

Hermione shook with sobs as Carina perched herself next to the other girl, scooting closer a bit warily and reaching out; with a steady hand, she forced her friend to lift her own. The red, puffy brown eyes and tears that followed were not a nice sight to see, truthfully.

She could not find any words to say, and instead held up a hand, palm up.

The brunette stared at it, brows furrowed in confusion as a strangled sob tore through her throat. But then, she seemed to understand and held up her own, allowing Carina to lace their fingers together and give her a pointed, meaningful look.

I'll be here.

The raven haired girl let go when Hermione threw herself into her arms, gripping her tightly; she flinched slightly when the arms hit her side, but did not say a word and returned the embrace.

The few days that followed consisted of times like this. Hermione would cry herself to sleep, and Carina would find herself squeezing onto the small bunk with the other girl as a wolf to offer some semblance of comfort. Harry had taken to looking at the Marauder's Map at night, and somehow she knew, had worked out, that he was following Ginny's dot everywhere it went. She rather wished she could look at it herself, just so she could find Luna—she hated not knowing, and dealing with the distraught Hermione did not help her feel all warm and fuzzy when the other witch was hung up on Ron Weasley.

But she dealt. They all did. More often than not in the day, they spent their time trying to figure out where Dumbledore could have hidden the sword, but even Carina was clueless. In the evenings, Hermione had taken to propping the portrait of Phineas Nigellus up on a chair, as though it would help them somehow.

The blindfolded portrait spoke to them sometimes, and they were careful not to mention anything bad about Snape or provoke him, else he would disappear. Carina was actually thankful for some sort of break in the depressive silence; it honestly bothered her.

Her grandfather did let drop certain snippets. Snape seemed to be facing a constant, low level of mutiny from a hard core of students. Ginny had been banned from going into Hogsmeade. Snape had reinstated Umbridge's old decree forbidding gatherings of three or more students or any unofficial student societies. From all of these things, Harry and Carina had deduced that Ginny, and probably Neville and Luna along with her, had been doing their best to continue Dumbledore's Army. This made Carina feel rather proud of them—Luna especially—for standing up and fighting when they could be laying low. She only hoped Luna wasn't getting too badly hurt because of this. Whenever Phineas Nigellus tried slipping in questions about Harry, Carina, and Hermione's whereabouts, Hermione shoved him back inside the beaded bag every time he did this, thus causing Phineas Nigellus to refuse to reappear for several days after.

And then, as the weather grew colder, they found themselves moving around to different parts of the country, for they could not stay in one area too long for fear of being caught. The time wore on, and she sometimes managed to snag a paper depending on where they were, and only grew more and more worried for Luna. The Carrows in Hogwarts? People were bound to be tortured there…but this was war.

And right now, Carina only wondered when they would be able to end it.

~~~xxx~~~

Harry sat back and sighed. They had just eaten an unusually good meal: Hermione had been to a supermarket under the Invisibility Cloak (subtly dropping money on the counter as she went), and he thought that she might be more persuadable than usual on a stomach full of spaghetti Bolognese and tinned pears.

He had also had the foresight to suggest that they take a few hours' break from wearing the Horcrux, which was hanging over the end of the bunk beside him.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" She was curled up in one of the sagging armchairs with The Tales of Beedle the Bard and Carina. Both their heads were bent over it, so close they were nearly touching. He could not imagine how much more she could get out of the book, which was not, after all, very long, but evidently she was still deciphering something in it, because Spellman's Syllabary lay open on the arm of the chair.

Harry cleared his throat. He felt exactly as he had done several years previously, when he had asked Professor McGonagall whether he could go into Hogsmeade, despite the fact that he had not gotten the Dursleys to sign his permission slip.

"Hermione, I've been thinking, and—"

"Harry, could you help us with something?"

Apparently she had not been listening to him. She leaned forward and held out The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

"Look at that symbol," she said, pointing to the top of a page. Above what Harry guessed was the title of the story (he was rubbish at runes, so he could not be sure), there was a picture of what looked like a triangular eye, its pupil crossed with a vertical line.

"I never took Ancient Runes, Hermione."

"I know that, but it isn't a rune and it's not in the syllabary, either. All along I thought it was a picture of an eye, but I don't think it is! It's been inked in, look, somebody's drawn it there, it isn't really part of the book. Think, have you ever seen it before?"

"No...no, hold on a second." Harry squinted at it. "Isn't it the same symbol Luna's dad was wearing round his neck?"

"Yes," said Carina, who had otherwise been silent.

"Then it's Grindelwald's mark."

Hermione stared at him, openmouthed; Carina did not seem impressed.

"What?" Hermione asked him, eyes narrowed.

"Krum told me..."

He recounted the story that Viktor Krum had told him at the wedding. Hermione looked astonished.

"Grindelwald's mark?"

She looked from Harry to the weird symbol and back again. "I've never heard that Grindelwald had a mark. There's no mention of it in anything I've ever read about him."

"Well, like I say, Krum reckoned that symbol was carved on a wall at Durmstrang, and Grindelwald put it there."

She fell back into the old armchair, frowning. "That's strange...you'd think Scrimgeour would have noticed, if it were something Dark."

"He probably just thought it was an eye," the raven haired witch beside her remarked. "Like you did at first." Hermione did not reply, instead chose to continue poring over the mark, and Carina snatched the book away.

"Hey! Carina!" Hermione leaned over the other girl's lap and reached out for it, but Carina held it just out of reach.

Harry knew what she was doing. She was taking advantage of the opportunity to try to cheer Hermione up, though at the moment the bookworm looked more irritated than anything.

"Carina," she repeated, making a grab for it again,only for it to be pulled from her reach. She huffed. "Give it back."

Instead, the raven haired girl offered her a smirk and suddenly sank out of reach, and there was soon a wolf in her place with the book clamped carefully between its teeth.

"Carina!" Hermione leapt to her feet, but the animagus was too quick for her, and it seemed that the brunette quickly grew tired of fighting and running in circles, for her wand was out and she had a spell shooting across the room in a flash.

Carina howled in pain and dropped the book, which Hermione swiftly summoned and propped back up on the arm of the chair. The other teen shifted back, clutching her right side as she strode over, a scowl in place.

Harry did not think this would be the best moment to speak and cautiously backed up to the table, where he could sit back and watch at a hopefully safe distance.

"Bloody hell," Carina cursed, giving Hermione a rather irritated look. "Really? You had to hex me?"

"It was a mild stinging hex," Hermione waved a hand dismissively, rather absently, as she attempted to study the book again.

Carina's jaw clenched tight for a moment, and Harry could see the muscles working there and knew this wasn't good. She rarely ever got angry with their friend—alright, really never—and if she did, she typically managed to calm herself down. However, it seemed she had had enough, and he knew this wouldn't be good.

"You hit my side," she finally gritted out.

"Yes."

"My splinched side."

Hermione had not been paying attention. "Alright." The book suddenly flew from her hands and across the room, and this quickly garnered the girl's attention. "Carina!"

"I try to cheer you up, and this is what I get?" Carina's free fist was clenched at her side, but when she pulled her right back and lifted her shirt, he could see a large, angry red welt branded into her side, which (though it had healed greatly but left much scarring) had not fully reformed just yet. It was close, but there was still a noticeable unevenness; the welt made him wince in sympathy.

"Carina, now isn't a time to play around!" Hermione waved her own hand, obviously annoyed. He was not positive, but he was almost sure he could see a flash of guilt cross her face. "We need to figure everything out so that we can get the sword, and then destroy the remaining horcruxes so that this can finally end!"

"You think I don't know that? I know, Hermione! I know exactly what we're doing, and what we're supposed to find, and what's going to happen next—I know. But you didn't have to hex and we don't have to just sit here and be all depressed because Ron Weasley isn't here!" Carina had dropped her shirt and now clenched both fists at her sides; Harry had just noticed that she hadn't used her wand to send the book flying. Her wandless magic was a bit impressive, and it seemed she liked to use it often, so long as it were little things that wouldn't drain her.

Hermione flinched as though struck, but did not back down as the taller girl got directly in her space, only a mere few inches away. If anything, this only seemed to rile the bookworm up, though he could see the watery eyes from his place as he observed.

"That's not—I can't believe you'd—"

"Mention him?" Carina fired back, seemingly unable to control herself. She was not loud, or snarling like she typically did, but there was a sharp, biting edge to her voice that was very clear. "It was bound to happen. That idiot abandoned you and what do you do? You mope! I've done everything I can, but you apparently would rather I not try!"

"I've helped you, too, Carina. I've soothed you after your nightmares, held you after your father died, and stuck by you when you came back from Azkaban and started lashing out on people." Hermione's voice shook now, and Harry could tell she was holding back tears. "Maybe I just want space. Maybe I don't need someone following me everywhere, afraid I'm going to break down everytime I hear his name. And maybe...maybe I don't need you to try."

Maybe I don't need you, was all Harry was sure Carina heard, for she recoiled violently and took a few steps back.

"You want space?" said Carina steadily, but he could see how she swallowed hard. "Fine. I'll give you space."

And then, she was storming from the tent just as Ron had done, and Hermione collapsed into the armchair with her head in her hands, trembling with what he knew were sobs.

~~~xxx~~~

Carina did not return for three days, and Harry had not quite ever seen Hermione this upset, especially after Ron. They had decided to go to Godric's Hollow, but were hoping she would return soon, so they had put it off for a couple days. Today was the day they were supposed to leave, but they just could not bring themselves to go yet. It was one thing to be without Ron, but to be without Carina made things seem so dull, so lonely.

Harry watched as Hermione sniffed and ran her sleeve across her eyes; she was curled up in the armchair, book clutched to her chest like a lifeline.

"Harry," she said finally. "I feel terrible. She was only trying to help, and I got so frustrated….I hurt her, Harry."

"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly, making his way over to crouch before the chair. "I know. And she hurt you too, didn't she?"

"But that's the problem! Everything she said was true! And now...now she's gone, just like…"

Harry felt a stab of pain. Just like Ron.

"And anything could be happening to her—she could have been kidnapped, or worse..."

But, Ron had been gone for months, and Carina only for days. Somehow, he had a feeling she would not just abandon them that way—abandon Hermione that way, no matter how angry or hurt.

"I know," he said again. "But I don't think...I don't reckon she'd have just completely left."

"It's been three days, Harry. He was gone just as long, and look what that turned into."

"Yes, but—"

He stopped suddenly upon hearing the tent flap be pushed aside, and scrambled to his feet; he trained his wand on the intruder, but then dropped it when he saw who it was.

Carina Black stood in the entryway, shifting from foot to foot and looking decidedly worse for wear, like she had not slept in days.

Hermione's head snapped up, and she was on her feet and across the room in seconds, throwing herself at the raven haired witch with such force that she staggered back and fell through the opening of the tent.

When Harry made his own way outside, he found himself confronted with the image of his two friends lying in the snow, Hermione on top of Carina, and he actually managed a smile. Deciding that they deserved some privacy, he reentered the tent and immersed himself in a book he found lying on the table.

~~~xxx~~~

"I'm so sorry," whispered Hermione fervently, over and over. She could not bring herself to let go, even though Carina had now managed to sit up and she was literally sitting on the other girl's lap. She herself had never been more relieved—she did not want to lose Carina like she had Ron, did not ever want her to run off like that again. Before she completely realized what she was doing, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Carina's. "I should never have spoken to you like that, or hexed you...I didn't mean any of it, I was just so frustrated! I'm so sorry, Rina, please don't run off like that again, I was so worried…"

"I…" Carina had gone rather cross eyed staring back at her, but she did not pull away, which was a good sign. "I won't. I'm sorry, too…" Hermione realized that the raven haired girl's pride might have possibly taken a blow from this, but it seemed like Carina did not care as she went on very sincerely. "What you said, did...it got to me. I shouldn't have said anything, but I couldn't keep it in like I normally can and I ran. You wanted space, so I gave it to you." She let out a breath, and it ghosted over Hermione's face; it was warm. "But I didn't go far. Not really. I was in a cave on the cliffs around the mountain."

The caves were not that far off, but far off enough that they would not have thought to check there for her. Hermione felt her heart pound when cold arms carefully encircled her.

"You didn't really leave us," she murmured in wonder. Yet, Ron Weasley had been perfectly capable, whereas Carina had been doing exactly what she wanted—giving her space and the both of them time to cool down. "I'm still so sorry...please forgive me."

The guilt was still eating at her as the moments ticked by, and when Carina's lips quirked upward as she finally replied, "I suppose. If you'll forgive me, that is." Hermione surged forward to hug her again, tighter this time.

"No problem." When she pulled away, she found herself smiling as she got to her feet and helped Carina to hers. Remembering, Hermione reached over to pull up Carina's shirt—the welt on her side was gone. Her fingers ghosted over the area, and the other girl jumped, startled. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Carina brushed it off and lowered her shirt back, before Hermione took her hand.

"You'll be staying from now on?"

"As long as you want me."

Of course. She's my best friend, and I don't want her to take off like that on me again, even if it was only for three days.

"Always."

And then, she laced their fingers together and tugged Carina into the tent to help she and Harry pack their things.