Sorry it took so long, here's thirty! Please review!

Carina found herself strolling alongside Harry and Hermione, all of them polyjuiced and attempting to pass themselves off as siblings or, as Carina had sarcastically remarked, a polyamorous trio. Since she did not have control—or, rather, full control, because it was hard—over her metamorphing abilities, she had had to take the polyjuice, and it had tasted terrible, worse than usual.

The three were making their way through the snow covered Godric's Hollow, and still yet more was falling. They were under the invisibility cloak as well, which was a bit of a squeeze now considering their sizes—Carina was thankful Ron wasn't there, or they'd have surely looked ridiculous.

Harry suddenly whipped off the cloak, and Carina straightened gratefully, though Hermione protested.

"It's not like anyone is out here," Harry told her. "Besides, we're disguised, so who will know it's us, anyway?"

The girl sighed, but nevertheless nodded and slipped her arm through his, and he seemed to take this as his cue, for he slid his own through Carina's rather unwilling one.

She did not tug away, but she did shoot him a look and turn her head as they made their way to the house. It was in ruins, and she stared up at the statue of James and Lily, with a baby Harry Potter in her arms. Across the monument, there were several different things written—encouragements, mostly. Carina found herself letting out a heavy breath, watching as it appeared in the air; she found this to be quite depressing, yet could not seem to tear her eyes away.

Harry tugged at her arm, and then they started past the singing church, through the kissing gate, and into the graveyard.

Once there, Carina broke free of the other two and began her search, dusting the snow off tombstone after tombstone, but so far there was no one very interesting, until she came upon this name: Ignotus Peverell.

She scrutinized the stone, ignoring Harry and Hermione converse by Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore's own shared stone. Ignotus was an ancestor of Harry's, and one of the three brothers mentioned in the story of the Deathly Hallows, she was sure. But, did that really matter now? Perhaps not. But it did not make her any less curious about this man, and the cloak handed down to the Potter family, to the last Potter.

"Carina," called Harry quietly. "Come here."

She let her hand trail across the stone as she turned and made her way a few rows over, where Harry and Hermione were standing over the gravesite of James and Lily Potter.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

"We should do something," the boy beside her whispered, and she could hear his breath hitch slightly. "I think…"

He made to grab for his wand, but Hermione had already drawn hers and made a wreath appear in the air; he caught it and gingerly placed it upon the grave. Carina furrowed her brows at it, but then twirled her own wand and conjured a single flower, a rosemary, and placed it evenly upon the top of the stone.

Remembrance. Perfectly fitting for those named my godparents, she thought to herself, but did not say a word aloud. Harry nodded gratefully to her, but only Hermione knew what this meant. If they were here now, maybe things would have gone differently.

But she did not dwell on that, and instead found herself glancing around at hearing the bells of a church ring.

"It's Christmas," she realized softly, and then Hermione was suddenly at her and Harry's sides, leaning into the boy with her arm wound through his. Despite this, her free hand sought Carina's and squeezed.

"Merry Christmas, Harry, Carina," whispered Hermione.

"Merry Christmas," came the somber reply from Harry, whilst Carina instead chose to lean over—rather daringly, she knew—and press a kiss to Hermione's cheek.

"Merry Christmas," the raven haired witch murmured, and the brunette beside her shivered, more than likely from the cold breeze that had just hit them. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, in which she knew Harry must be thinking very hard about his parents. Hermione was focused on comforting him, and therefore, it was Carina who noticed the little old lady beckoning to them first. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she pulled away from Hermione, right hand twitching with the need to release her wand. "Someone is watching us."

The other two whirled around at breakneck speed.

"She's...waving?" Harry frowned. "I think she wants us to come with her….do you think it could be Bagshot?" His tone grew earnest. "Maybe Dumbledore entrusted the sword to her, and she wants to give it to us!"

"Harry," said Hermione uncertainly, releasing his arm. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I," came the agreed, quiet response from a very tense Carina.

But Harry was insistent. "Guys, I really think this could be it—come on." And then, he started toward the old woman, calling out, and the other two had no other choice but to exchange glances and follow.

The old woman appeared to be mute, and could not speak, possibly. But still, Carina had noticed how she did not smell right. She smelt almost...dead. But that couldn't be, because she was moving and she certainly wasn't an Inferi…

The three made their way into the house, and when Harry followed the Bagshot up the stairs, he did not heed Carina's call of warning.

She growled in frustration.

"Something isn't right about her," she told Hermione, tangling her hands in her raven locks. "She doesn't…"

"What?" Hermione frowned at her.

"She doesn't smell right."

The frown deepened, and she could see that the brunette was thinking hard. "Doesn't smell right how?"

"She smells like the dead. And I don't mean that figuratively. We need to get out of here."

"We can't leave without Harry," Hermione hissed back at her, though not meanly. "We're just going to have to be on our guard and make sure nothing happens, alright?"

"Yes." And then Carina turned her attention to the pictures on the table, pictures of a smirking blonde haired boy staring up at them, eyes gleaming. He looked so familiar, but she couldn't quite place it….

Hermione seemed to notice her confusion. "That's Gellert Grindewald. I'm not sure why she would have a picture of him here, of course…"

There was the sound of a crash upstairs, and then a muffled shout that only Carina could hear.

"Harry?" called Hermione, but there was no response. She wasted no time in sprinting up the stairs, and Carina followed closely behind. When they burst into the room, Harry was on the floor, pinned by Voldemort's snake, Nagini.

There was no sword. There was no Bathilda.

The snake caught sight of them, and Nagini released Harry, who scrambled to his feet. The snake struck, and Hermione dived aside with a shriek; her deflected curse hit the curtained window, which shattered. Frozen air filled the room as Harry and Carina ducked to avoid another shower of broken glass; she noticed that Harry had bent to snatch up his wand.

And then suddenly, room was full of the snake, its tail thrashing; Hermione was nowhere to be seen and Carina felt a brief stab of panic, but then there was a loud bang and a flash of red light, and the snake flew into the air. It smacked Harry hard in the face—in any other circumstance she would have laughed—as it went, coil after heavy coil rising up to the ceiling. The boy raised his wand, but then his muscles seized for a moment, and his eyes were wide.

"He's coming! Hermione, Carina, he's coming!"

As he yelled the snake fell, hissing wildly. Everything was chaos; It smashed shelves from the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere as Carina dove over the bed beside Harry, dragging Hermione with her rather roughly.

She shrieked with pain as Carina pulled her across the bed. The snake reared again, but all she could really find herself thinking about was how something much, much worse was coming for them, and soon they may all be dead.

The snake lunged as Harry took a running leap, dragging Hermione with him; as it struck, Hermione screamed, "Confringo!" and her spell flew around the room, exploding the wardrobe mirror and ricocheting back at them, bouncing from floor to ceiling; Carina felt some of it pierce her shoulder as she swiftly followed. Harry grabbed her arm and, pulling Hermione with him, they leapt from bed to broken dressing table and then straight out of the smashed window into nothingness, her scream echoing through the night as they twisted in midair…

They all collapsed in a tangled heap in the snow, and Harry was writhing about, moaning and mumbling to himself; he was in Voldemort's mind, the girls knew.

Hermione quickly summoned the dittany and attended to his wounds, before turning upon Carina, who shook her head.

"We need to get him inside first," she told the other girl, before leveling her wand at the boy. "Wingardium Leviosa." He began to float, and she kept her arm steady as she levitated him inside, Hermione not far behind, and allowed him to drop into one of the lower bunks. With a heavy sigh, Carina sat down and tilted her head aside, so that Hermione could remove the small shards of glass stuck in her shoulder and around her collarbone.

It hurt, but it was very much bearable after the other injuries she had sustained over the years, especially recently, so she did not even wince. However, she did jerk slightly in surprise when Hermione's fingers gently ghosted over her collarbone and around her neck.

"Was that all?" asked Hermione, watching her intently.

"I think so." Carina stared at her, unable to look away from the concerned brown eyes. "And you?"

"I'm fine. Not a scratch." There was the barest of smiles aimed at her, and somewhere in the back of her consciousness Carina was aware of Harry stirring even more, mumbling.

"Good." Gray eyes glanced back at the boy. "Should we try to wake him, or…?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea right now." Hermione made her way to Harry's bedside and felt his forehead, before glancing back at her. "He's feverish. Would you mind…?"

Carina handed her a sponge, and the other witch smiled gratefully. "I'll take first watch."

Without another word, she strode out of the tent.

~~~xxx~~~

Hermione stayed up all night that night tending to Harry, and Carina did not return until the very early hours of morning, before the sun had even risen. When she entered the tent, Hermione was still kneeling by Harry's bedside and did not hear until she was rather close; Hermione was exhausted. She was having trouble keeping her eyes open, and she was leaning rather heavily against the bed as she gripped the sponge loosely in her hand.

There was a gentle prod to her side, and Hermione forced her eyes to open as she studied Carina. There were purple spots under her gray eyes, much like she was sure there were under her own.

"How is he?" Carina whispered, lightly tugging the sponge from her hand.

"Better," murmured Hermione, who felt more awake now that she had sentient company. "Not as bad. But he still hasn't come out of it."

"You've been up with him all night?"

"Someone had to." The brunette's lips quirked upward in a fond smile when one of Carina's hands raised the sponge to the boy's forehead, while the other flicked almost absently at the general area of the kitchen. It took a long few moments, but the mug of hot chocolate was gratefully accepted as she took a sip. "Thank you." The raven haired witch hummed in acknowledgement and dabbed at Harry's forehead again with the sponge, and Hermione found herself watching for a short while before speaking again. "Carina."

"Yeah?"

"You're freezing." Hermione had reached for her hand seconds before, and when she had felt the chill, pulled back.

"I'm numb by this point." Carina set the sponge aside. "Cast a charm for the first few hours, but the last couple I just let it drop and walked around a bit. It's fine."

Hermione scowled slightly at her. She could have gotten frostbite, frozen to death or worse, been captured, and she really didn't care?

Then again, that sounds about like her. The bookworm inwardly sighed. I wish she didn't do these things.

Cold fingers found her own, and Hermione shuddered slightly at the feeling, but did not let go and instead reached for the other one, feeling the chill siphon into her own skin.

She noticed that Carina was staring at their hands rather oddly, and retracted one of her hands to feel the other witch's cheek—cold, as expected. Now that she was looking closer, she could see that the pale cheeks and nose were flushed pink, and that raven hair was strewn wildly about her head more so than normal.

It was laughable, really, how someone like Carina Black could be so...well...adorable. It was a strange thought, since she had never really considered the other witch anything other than beautiful; fierce, sure. Gorgeous? Yes. Dangerous? Very. Frightening? Maybe a bit, but not so much to her. But to think of her friend as adorable was something new.

But she really does look like that. Hermione removed her hand. Right now, at least. More often than not she's quite fierce, as I said, but right now…

Carina rolled her eyes slightly and flicked her wrist, sending the empty mug of hot chocolate floating away.

She's sweet, too. How could I forget? Brown eyes roved over the other teen.

Deposited cloaks, a protector in the shadows, whispered words and a comforting embrace in the darkness, entwined fingers to allow Hermione to know she was there, a wolf curling up by her side every night after the departure of him, a whispered Merry Christmas and a kiss to the cheek in a lonely graveyard….

There was a tug at her hair, and Hermione found that she had been staring at Carina for awhile now.

"What is it?" the other girl asked, shifting on her knees with a concerned furrow of her brows.

"Lost in thought," said Hermione, feeling her cheeks heat up. "I'm sorry." She turned her eyes to Harry, hoping for a distraction at the raise of Carina's brow. "Do you think we'll find them all? The horcruxes, I mean."

There was a squeeze to her hand.

"I don't know." Carina frowned. "We have to, really. If we don't, it's mass destruction for the whole of Britain and other places if Vo—" She stopped, rolling her eyes again. "-You-Know-Who, takes over. And we really don't want that, so…"

Hermione did not get a chance to answer, for Harry was tossing about, mumbling "no" over and over again, getting increasingly louder.

"Harry," she tried desperately. "Harry, it's okay, you're alright—"

But this was not working, and before Hermione could stop her, Carina reached over and slapped him rather hard.

Harry jerked, before his eyes snapped open and he blinked up at her, sitting up; he did not seem at all phased by the slap.

"We got away," he stated, as if for confirmation.

"Yes. Carina had to levitate you to get you into your bunk. I couldn't lift you, and she didn't think she could either. You've been... Well, you haven't been quite...You've been ill," she finished.

"When did we leave?"

"Hours ago. It's nearly morning."

"And I've been... what, unconscious?"

"Not exactly," said Hermione uncomfortably, shifting in place. "You've been shouting and moaning and... things. I couldn't get the Horcrux off you." She really wanted to change the subject in that moment. "It was stuck to your chest. You've got a mark; I'm sorry, I had to use a Severing Charm to get it away. The snake hit you too, but I've cleaned the spot and put some dittany on it..."

He pulled the sweaty T-shirt he was wearing away from himself and looked down, presumably at his injuries. Hermione had done her best, but she knew it would still have to heal on its own; she felt bad that she could not do any more for him. Carina had yet to speak, and was watching them silently.

"Where've you put the Horcrux?"

"In my bag. We shouldn't wear it for awhile, I think."

When Harry began to apologize for the Godric's Hollow incident, Carina finally spoke.

"Next time," she told him, very serious. "When I say something smells strange, leave it. Especially if it's a person, even if they might have an artifact like that."

He did not like being scolded, but Hermione knew he was relieved she had not made an "I told you so" speech instead.

"Yeah, well... we got that wrong, didn't we?"

"What happened when she took you upstairs? Was the snake hiding somewhere, or did it just come out and kill her and attack you?" Hermione furrowed her brows as she asked the question, puzzled. Surely that was a logical option, wasn't it?

"No." he said. "She was the snake... or the snake was her... all along."

"W-what?"

He closed his eyes. "Bathilda must've been dead a while. The snake was inside her. You-Know-Who put it there in Godric's Hollow, to wait for me. You were right. He knew I'd go back there to visit."

"The snake was inside her?"

He opened his eyes again. Hermione felt revolted, as though she might vomit, and when Harry explained the Parseltongue part and about the attack, it definitely made more sense why Bagshot would not speak to them.

He looked down at the puncture marks.

"It wasn't supposed to kill me, just keep me there till You-Know-Who came." He sat up and threw back the covers.

"Harry, no, I'm sure you ought to rest!"

"You're the ones who need sleep." He glanced between she and Carina, who snorted at his next words. "No offense, but you look terrible. I'm fine, I'll keep watch for a bit. Where's my wand?"

She did not answer, she merely looked at him. She felt terrible about this, truly. His wand had been broken in the scuffle and their departure, and she knew how it would affect him.

"Where's my wand, Hermione?"

She bit her lip, and could feel the tears pooling in her eyes.

"Harry..."

"Where's my wand?"

She reached down beside the bed and held it out to him.

The holly and phoenix wand was nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather kept both pieces hanging together. The wood had splintered apart completely. Harry took it into his hands as though it was a living thing that had suffered a terrible injury, and she could see the panic in his eyes as clear as anything. Then he held out the wand to her.

"Mend it. Please."

"Harry, I don't think, when it's broken like this..."

"Please, Hermione, try!"

"R-Reparo."

The dangling half of the wand resealed itself. He held it up and attempted a spell; he wand lit up dimly, then went out. Harry pointed it at Hermione, who noticed Carina twitch at the movement.

"Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand gave a little jerk, but did not leave her hand. The feeble attempt at magic was too much for Harry's wand, and it split into two again. He stared at it, eyes wide.

"Harry." Hermione whispered so quietly he could hardly hear her. "I'm so sorry. I think it was me. As we were leaving, you know, the snake was coming for us, and so I cast a Blasting Curse, and it rebounded everywhere, and it must have hit…"

"It was an accident." Harry looked down and swallowed visibly. "We'll...we'll find a way to repair it."

"Harry, that won't work." Hermione could feel the tears trickling down her face. "Remember... remember Ron, when he broke his wand crashing the car? It was never the same again, he had to get a new one."

So, the boy simply put up a facade of firmness and requested her wand.

Her face covered with tears, Hermione handed over her wand, and he left her sitting beside his bed with Carina, feeling truly horrible about the entire incident. She was sure it must have been her fault, and sharing wands was never ideal...it wouldn't work the same for him as it would her, and that meant one less person to defend them if something happened.

She felt an arm slide around her waist, and she curled into Carina, feeling very weary at the moment.

"Carina…"

"I know," murmured Carina, and Hermione felt the other girl's chin rest atop her head. "It wasn't your fault. It could have been anyone. We'll just have to make do, alright? It's okay." She got to her feet and lightly pulled Hermione to her feet, before leading her to her bed. "Here, get some sleep."

"No." The bookworm grabbed her hand. "You need some, too." She scooted over. "Come on."

Tired gray eyes regarded her for a moment, and a small smile was sent her way; her stomach fluttered, and Carina slid into the bed, allowing Hermione to yet again press into her side.

The bookworm closed her eyes, and in that brief moment, noticed that Carina also smelled of pine needles alongside the vanilla. She drifted off to sleep seconds later.