The past few days had been… well, he didn't want to use the word boring, but they had been boring. The fact of the matter was that there really wasn't much to do in the remote cabin, especially with the weather outside still as terrible as it was on the day they'd arrived. It was currently snowing heavily, which meant he and Hermione were forced to retreat inside, the heat coming from the stove doing its best to keep the cold out.
It was late in the evening, the sun already long gone behind the horizon, the only light in the room coming from the stove and the bluebell flames Hermione created, spreading them around the room. He sat on one of the wooden chairs by the table, reading the spell book, Hedwig sitting on his shoulder. Hermione lay sprawled out on the cot, the blanket wrapped tightly around her form as she read the 'dark' book, as she called it.
Their tent still stood in the middle of the room, and they had slept inside it every night, huddling close to beat out the perpetual cold that came when the fire in the stove went out. They judged… Hermione judged that them both getting a full night of sleep was more important than one staying up to add wood to the stove, but that did mean it got cold very quickly. But it was manageable in the tent, and with Hermione usually sleeping tucked next to him it was almost pleasantly warm.
Still, they were getting rather low on food, which meant they would have to go and search for more soon. Harry knew this entailed a long slog through the snowy forest, and he was very much not looking forward to it. They'd not yet agreed whether they'd then return here, or head somewhere else, but there was still time for that conversation.
"You know, this book is practically worthless." He was brought from his thoughts by Hermione's resigned comment, his eyes widening. He'd never heard her call a book worthless. Like never, ever. She looked at him then, seeing his stunned and curious expression, waving a hand dismissively before sitting up, the book lying forgotten on her lap.
"There is nothing but, like, two lines in here about Horcruxes, detailing the information we already know." She seemed almost personally offended by the book; her nose upturned as she looked at it again.
"I mean if we wanted to learn how to…" She opened the book on a random page, her upturned nose now joined by a deep scowl, "turn a victim's guts inside out, or…" She turned a few more pages, "The top 10 methods on how to hide your squib child, it would be perfect, really." The sarcasm was so thick in her voice that Harry had to laugh.
"Hey! You're using my thing!" He accused mirthfully, receiving a narrowed stare from the annoyed-looking witch.
"And what's that?"
"Sarcasm. I'm the one who usually uses it, and you tell me what a prat I am." He responded shrugging with his shoulder as her glare narrowed even further.
"Don't you dare call me a prat, Harry."
"I wasn't going to." He defended with raised hands, his mouth quirking upwards as he saw a hint of a smile threatening to erupt on her face. "But you do think Voldemort's Horcruxes would help him any if we got his guts to fall out of his ar-"
"Harry!"
"What?"
"You're a prat." They were both smiling like loons now, and Harry could see Hedwig looking at them like they were idiots.
"Fine, maybe I am. But what is your plan now that the book turned out to be useless?" Hermione didn't even try arguing, which told Harry all about what she really thought about the book. She seemed to ponder for a bit, chewing on her lip absentmindedly as her fingers drummed a beat on the cot.
"We need to get more information about the Horcruxes if we want to remove the one in you, that much is certain." She spoke slowly, as if she was making a plan whilst doing so. Harry just nodded. "Which, in my opinion, leaves us with two options." He motioned for her to go ahead at her questioning look.
"Option one would be to write a letter to Dumbledore, and ask him for tips and advice, I'm sure he hasn't told us everything he knows." Harry didn't much like that idea, and neither did Hermione if he read the frown on her brow correctly.
"What if he uses this letter to find us?" Hermione gave a small nod to acknowledge his concerns, before looking towards Hedwig.
"Hedwig, could you avoid being tracked by Dumbledore if we use you to send a letter and deliver us his response?" Hedwig gave off an indignant hoot, looking almost offended that Hermione was doubting her, causing Harry to smile proudly and Hermione to nod.
"What's the second option?" Hermione sighed deeply at that, looking even more uncomfortable than what she did with the first option.
"We break into Hogwarts, head to the Restricted section in the library, and steal the books there." Harry wasn't as shocked by this as she probably expected he'd be, having honestly expected something like this. Plus, he was the leading expert in sneaking around in Britain.
"And you're sure we'd find any books that could help us there?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow, feeling like Dumbledore wouldn't let such information out in the open.
"No. But it's not like we have any better ideas at the moment." She seemed to realise the harshness of her words as soon as she spoke them, catching the slight hunching of his shoulders as only she could. "But, Harry." She said quickly, rising from the bed and walking over, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning down so they were at eye level.
"I'm not giving up. We're not giving up. It may take a while, but we'll get there in the end. I promised." He covered her hand on his shoulder with his own, drawing strength from her presence. He really, really didn't want to die, but he'd do it if it was the only way to get rid of Voldemort. Despite what Hermione thought, his life wasn't worth all the ones that would be lost if the dark lord continued living.
"Thank you, Hermione." He said earnestly, before going back to the conversation at hand, "Which option do you think we should take?" He could honestly say he preferred sneaking into Hogwarts, but he wasn't entirely opposed to sending Dumbledore a letter. He trusted Hermione and Hedwig. And if he was completely honest, he had a feeling Dumbledore would help them, it wasn't like he had a reason not to.
"I think it would be best to try writing Dumbledore first, and then we wait to see what he says." Hermione answered after a short pause, still biting her bottom lip nervously, "Sneaking into Hogwarts just sounds too risky to me… It's a shame we don't have a way to communicate with any of our friends there, they could send us the books through Hedwig."
"True, it would be so much easier if we could talk with Ron or Ginny, or heck, even somebody like Dobby." He barely finished the sentence, when a loud pop rang out, and Harry startled so hard he fell right out of the chair. When he looked up from his sprawled-out position on the ground, he could see Hermione in a combat stance, her wand at the ready, and Hedwig also looking ready to poke some eyes out.
"Harry Potter sir has called Dobby!" The little elf stood in the centre of the room, a bright smile plastered on his face as he looked at Harry.
"D-dobby. You scared me." He said getting back to his feet, his heart still racing from having his soul scared straight out of him.
"Dobby is very glad to see Harry Potter, yes he is." The little elf was tipping forward and back on his toes, and Harry shared a quick glance with Hermione, who had pocketed her wand.
"Uhm, Dobby, not that I'm not glad to see you, but what are you doing here?" Dobby gave him a weird look at that, smiling with his teeth showing.
"Harry Potter called Dobby."
"Eh, right." Harry had been so thrown off by the elf's appearance, that he couldn't even string together a full sentence, but as usual Hermione was there to save him. She walked over to Dobby, crouching to his level, her eyes kind.
"Dobby, could you do us a favour?" She asked, and Dobby looked about ready to combust, practically vibrating at the chance of doing them a favour.
"Dobby will do it. Whatever Miss wishes." His eyes were eager as he looked from Hermione to Harry, but it was Hermione who spoke.
"Could you maybe get me some books from the Restricted section at Hogwarts? Please, we really need them, Dobby." The elf shook his head emphatically.
"Dobby can! What books would Harry Potter's Hermee need?" Harry couldn't help but feel his spirits rise as Hermione gave Dobby careful instructions on what books to look for, the small elf glowing with happiness at being able to help them. And Harry had to admit he felt incredibly stupid for not thinking of Dobby before, or even Kreacher for that matter. A house elf ally would be incredibly useful in what they were trying to do.
"Very good, Dobby," Hermione spoke after Dobby had repeated her instructions, "But remember, you can't tell this to anybody, okay?"
"Dobby won't say a word Miss Hermee, or Dobby will drown himself in the lake!"
"That won't be necessary Dobby. I'm sure you'll do great." Harry barely kept himself from laughing at the panicked expression on Hermione's face, and the comically sad one Dobby was wearing.
"It really is great to see you, Dobby. I've missed you." He said earnestly as the elf was preparing to leave on his book-hunting mission. Dobby's eyes immediately misted, a pair of tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Harry Potter is the greatest wizard ever!" It took him a good 10 minutes to get Dobby to stop hugging his leg, after which the elf disappeared with a quiet pop.
"That was… interesting." He said as soon as the two of them were alone again, and Hermione chuckled fondly.
"That elf would do anything for you."
"Yeah, no kidding. At least he doesn't call me Master anymore." Harry said with relief in his voice, blushing at Hermione's look of pure fondness.
"You really are the nicest, you know." She said it with such conviction, that he didn't even have a retort. As such he merely nodded to the floor, feeling beyond embarrassed.
"This whole thing has given me another idea too, by the way." Hermione said chewing on her bottom lip, and he simply retook his seat, waiting for her to put her thoughts into words. "Kreacher is still at the headquarters, correct?"
"Yup, although I think he's been avoiding me." Harry said clicking his tongue irritably, "Not that I'm sad about it, the little bastard betrayed Sirius." Harry knew Kreacher couldn't really be blamed entirely for what had happened, and Sirius' treatment of the elf certainly contributed to the hate, but he still felt a certain resentment for the old elf.
"I think we could use his help too." He looked sharply at Hermione, who was looking back at him with concern. She continued before he could protest, "Listen, Harry." She closed the distance between them again, placing a hand on his cheek, "I know you feel wronged by what Kreacher had done, but… he's in Number 12. He could listen to their conversations for us. That would be invaluable."
"You want to spy on the Order?" He was beyond shocked. When had the 'killed, or worse, expelled' Hermione turned into 'let's spy on the Order and rob a store' Hermione.
"Yes. We barely know what's happening in the wizarding world, we don't know if Dumbledore is searching for us, or if it's only the ministry, or maybe even only You-Know-Who. Let's face it, we need this information." She was right, Harry knew that, but he really didn't want to interact with Kreacher. He was afraid he'd say or do something he'd regret later if he saw him now. But he trusted Hermione implicitly, and as such his mind was made.
"Fine. Want me to call him?" He asked, his chin dropping to his chest as he mentally prepared himself for the upcoming meeting. Hermione caressed his cheek tenderly, before nodding softly and stepping away. He took a deep breath, before speaking Kreacher's name. Almost instantaneously the old wrinkled elf appeared in front of them, the displeasure on his face clear.
"Master lives." Harry's scowl deepened at the disappointment in Kreacher's tone, and he could see Hermione frown next to him.
"Hello Kreacher, nice to see you again." He responded in as kind of a voice as he could muster, but that didn't seem to sway the old elf any. Kreacher next turned his attention towards Hermione, his displeased expression souring even further.
"The mudblood is here as well." The elf said with a sneer, but Harry barely let him finish the sentence before his wand was pointed his way.
"You call her that again, and you'll regret it." Hermione quickly jumped between them, grabbing hold of his hand and lowering it. There was understanding in her gaze, and she smiled softly as he gave her a short nod.
"Did you understand? I forbid you to call Hermione that word ever again." Harry said more calmly, while Kreacher looked like he'd eaten a lemon.
"Yes, Master."
"Now, we have a few questions to ask you." Harry commanded after sharing another glance with Hermione, who didn't look entirely happy with the tone he was using. But the elf was partially responsible for getting his godfather killed, and Harry didn't have it in himself to act civilly. Kreacher nodded reluctantly, and Hermione crouched down to his level, Kreacher watching her with confusion.
"Kreacher, have you overheard anything the order members were saying about us after we'd left?" The house elf seemed to fight against the bond for a few moments, before giving in with a short exhale, his bony fingers intertwined before him.
"Kreacher has heard many things. The old blood traitor was very angry once he'd discovered you were gone." Harry twitched at the elf calling Dumbledore a blood traitor, but it was Hermione who asked, "And what did he say?"
"Kreacher heard him tell the werewolf to hunt you down and bring you to him." Harry set his jaw, unable to fully hide how much having Remus chasing after him affected him. Remus was, after Sirius' death, probably the closest family he had left, and this betrayal cut deep. He could see Hermione giving him her look of concern, but he shook his head, turning his attention back to Kreacher.
"Kreacher, I want you to keep an eye out in Grimmauld place. You come and tell us if you ever hear anything pertaining to us, okay?"
"Yes, master." There was real hatred in that tone, and even Hermione's expression seemed to harden.
"Oh, and one more thing." Harry added at the last moment, "You cannot tell anybody where we are, what we're doing, or that you even spoke with us. Understood." The elf seemed to try very hard to find some sort of a loophole in that order, but he eventually nodded tersely.
"Yes, master."
"Good, thank you. You can go back now." Harry puffed out a tension-riddled breath as the house elf disappeared with a loud pop, leaving him once more alone with Hermione and Hedwig.
"He really doesn't like us, does he?" Hermione asked after a moment, causing Harry to laugh drily.
"No, and I like him even less. He may have been treated badly in the past, but that doesn't excuse his actions." He was fully prepared for Hermione to counter him, but she remained quiet, seeming deep in thought. He let her think for a while longer, using that time to start preparing their little tent bedroom. He walked over to Hermione and plucked her wand from her pocket, using it to cast a few of the bluebell fires, before taking the blanket from the cot and throwing it into the tent.
"We are going to have to go get some supplies soon." He said once he was done preparing for the night, his voice seemingly finally breaking Hermione from her thoughts.
"Huh?"
"The supplies. We barely have enough to last us through tomorrow." He repeated his statement, Hermione biting her lower lip and nodding along.
"We'll go the day after tomorrow. There is a town, about 7 miles to the East of us, where we should find a store to rob." Harry didn't exactly remember the details on the map they'd studied on the day they ran away, but he trusted her to have remembered it.
"Are we coming back, or…?" He asked carefully, unsure of what the plan was. Hermione bit her lip again, taking a quick look through the window and frowning.
"I think that would be smart. At least for another week or two, that should be enough for everything to calm down. Plus, with all this snow, we really have nowhere else to go." That sort of destroyed the already pitiful mood, the fact that they quite literally had nowhere to go was a stark reality.
They didn't speak much after that, both using Hermione's conjured toothbrushes to clean their teeth, before Hermione cast a pair of cleaning charms, which while not coming even close to a regular shower, did their job. And then it was time for them to climb into the tent, the last few pieces of wood slowly burning away in the stove.
It was already somewhat warm inside the tent due to the bluebell flames, so Harry mirrored Hermione and took off his hoodie, closing the flap of the tent as he did so. He proceeded to lie on his back on the mattress they'd stolen from the cot, and just like every night for the past week Hermione burrowed into his side, her head on his shoulder. They lay in silence for a good while, only the sounds of their breathing audible.
"I miss Ron." Harry said to the air, aware he was mirroring Hermione's 'I miss Hogwarts' declaration from a week ago. He could feel her stiffen beside him, and he cursed himself for bringing Ron up considering the tension he knew the two of them shared. He almost thought she wasn't even going to comment, but he was mistaken.
"I do too." Her voice was nothing but a melancholy whisper, and Harry's heart ached for her.
"I'm sorry Hermione, for everything. You could have been at Hogwarts, with Ron, not here saving my sorry arse." He said feeling awful for dragging her into this, despite her constantly reassuring him there was nowhere else she'd rather be. He could feel her shift at that, and her head slowly came into view, leaning over him.
"Missing that big oaf, and wanting to be with him are two entirely different things, Harry. And just for the record, I wouldn't rather be there with him." As usual when Hermione talked, there was nothing but conviction and truth in her words, and Harry blinked in surprise.
"But, you two…" He began, but Hermione cut him off almost immediately.
"There is nothing between us, Harry." She sighed at that, her eyes shifting to look somewhere to the side of his head, "Did I think I fancied him at the beginning of term? Yes, yes I did." Her look hardened then, the lines on her face growing harsh, "But he decided to choose Lavender. I'm not going to be with him as his second choice. No chance." Despite the hard edge in her tone, she sounded so sad saying this, and Harry found her hand and squeezed it comfortingly, receiving a squeeze in return.
"Well, you know Ron, he's-" He said feeling the need to defend his friend, but was once more forestalled by Hermione's raised hand.
"Save it. I know exactly who he is." The angry Hermione seemed to have won the battle with sad Hermione, "A jealous prat, who doesn't think before he acts." She spat the words, and Harry didn't really have a good comeback to that. "But he really hurt me this time, Harry. He betrayed my feelings, and I can't forgive that. I won't forgive that." She sounded so sure that Harry wasn't even sure he could attempt to sway her mind.
"We all make mistakes." He eventually said rather lamely, feeling an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach at the thought of his two best friends never getting along again.
"And I know that, I do. But I can't be with him after this. I still care for him greatly, we've been through too much together not to, but once he apologizes, we'll be friends only." There was a sort of finality in her words, and Harry almost felt bad for not feeling worse about this fact. He deduced it was probably due to the fact that he genuinely thought Ron and Hermione weren't a very compatible pair, but something in the back of his mind was telling him he knew that wasn't the real reason.
"Did I tell you I asked him to come with us?" She said and brought Harry out of his thoughts, her question making him smirk.
"No, you told me he wanted to be our spy inside the order." He recounted the rather obvious lie she'd told him back at Grimmauld, watching in amusement as her cheeks reddened.
"I s-said that just to make you come with me." She sounded genuinely apologetic for having lied to him, and he gave her hand another supporting squeeze.
"I knew right away you weren't telling the truth. Don't worry, I'm not mad, I know you were doing it to help me." He could see her relax at that, the worry leaving her expression.
"He… he told me he couldn't just leave his life behind."
"I don't blame him for that Hermione. I never asked anybody to give up their entire life for me." He answered sadly, his eyes boring into hers, hoping that the gratitude in them was clear for her to see.
"I just thought… we always did stuff together. I would have done the same for him too, if he was put in this position, even after he'd ditched me for Lavender. And I know you would too, without a moment of hesitation. So, I guess I'm just a bit angry he didn't." Harry really did understand where she was coming from, and he agreed with her that he'd do everything for them just like she did for him. But none of his anger was directed at Ron. None whatsoever.
"I suppose…" He started slowly, unsurely, "It is probably difficult for me to understand, seeing as I don't really have a family, not anymore. I have nothing else, nobody else rather, to consider when making my decisions. But you and Ron, you have families, big ones in Ron's case. I suppose it makes it easier for me to put everything on the line for you. I have nothing and nobody else to consider." He concluded sadly, breathing out a pained breath.
The expression Hermione was looking at him with, held such clear fondness and pain that it made Harry's next breath catch in his throat. A second later, her arms were around him, and her head was tucked into his shoulder. It was a slightly awkward hug due to their position on their sides in the small tent, but Harry knew he needed this hug. They were still locked in an embrace when Hermione spoke.
"It isn't fair, Harry, what you went through. It really isn't." And what more was there to say to that, he wondered, oddly emotional. It wasn't like he wasn't aware of what a trainwreck his life had been up to this point, every tiny good thing overshadowed by some horrible thing happening immediately thereafter. Hermione, seemingly realizing he wasn't about to respond, spoke up again;
"But you're wrong about not having a family. You do have a family." She said sounding choked up, before pulling away so she could look at his face, "Ron is your family, as are the Weasleys. Remus too." She said visibly struggling to speak over her emotions. She next grabbed hold of his cheeks, touching her forehead to his, "I am your family too. And I'm not leaving you alone, not now not ever." Hermione ended in a whisper, a few tears making their way down her cheeks.
Harry was trying really, really hard not to cry. Despite knowing Hermione and Ron for half a decade now, it was still sometimes hard for him to fully comprehend he wasn't alone anymore. The Dursleys' words never affected Harry too much, but he supposed that was something they really did hammer into his head. He would always be alone, Vernon used to say, who would want a freak, after all.
And it was because of that, that Hermione's words hit him even harder. It was because he did have people who cared about him, he did have a family. True, it wasn't a traditional one, but it was a family nonetheless. Not wanting Hermione to see him cry, he pulled her back into his embrace, his tears absorbed by her hoodie.
The two friends remained that way for a long while before sleep took over. And as the darkness closed on him, Harry felt significantly better than he did just a few hours ago, and he knew he had the woman in his arms to thank. She was his family, and he knew he'd do anything to keep her safe.
Albus Dumbledore had certainly seen better days in his long life. The pain in his hand was getting worse by the day, and he knew it was now only a matter of time before the curse spread to the rest of his body. A few weeks ago, he would have been content with letting it do just that, leaving his trust in Harry to finish what he'd started.
But recent developments, many of which were sadly his own fault, destroyed those hopes completely. After his plans had crumbled and with the realization that he'd failed Harry, came the very simple fact that he needed more time if he wanted to destroy the rest of the Horcruxes. As such, extreme measures had to be used.
"Are you sure about this, Albus?" He heard his old friend ask timidly, concern written clearly on Minerva's face.
"Yes, I'm quite sure." He responded calmly, sharing a brief look with Severus, who was standing leaning up against the far wall of the Hogwarts infirmary. It was at that point that Poppy came into the room, the matron looking decidedly unhappy.
"I still think you should go to Saint Mungo's." She mumbled under her breath, but Dumbledore counted it as a victory that she didn't argue. He'd already spent the last hour convincing her to do this.
"I wish myself there was a different option. Alas, there isn't, I'm afraid." He could see Poppy wasn't entirely calmed by his words, but there wasn't much more he could say.
"Are we ready to begin?" He asked merrily, feeling a hint of dread despite his outwardly cheery appearance. Severus walked closer at that, moving to stand next to Minerva, while Poppy grabbed a flask from her table that was littered with various potions.
"Here, drink this. It should hopefully make it mostly painless." He drank the potion without a second's pause, before drinking a second one, which was supposedly going to reduce his bleeding.
"You ready?" Poppy asked him then, and he nodded tightly, already feeling the potions numbing up his body.
"Severus." Poppy commanded, making the potion master flinch as he approached them, his wand pointed towards Dumbledore's blackened arm. Severus pointed the tip of his wand just below his shoulder, while Minerva cast a shield spell behind him. He took a long, deep breath, before meeting first Minerva's eyes and then Severus'.
"Go."
"Diffindo." Severus' voice matched the spell leaving his wand, but Dumbledore barely felt as his arm was severed just below the shoulder, the appendage falling into the bucket underneath him as the spell was intercepted by Minerva's shield. The amount of blood pouring out of his open wound didn't seem to be too concerning, but despite that Poppy still started casting in quick succession, and the bleeding quickly stopped altogether.
"Sit down, let me wrap it for you." The matron commanded him, and he dutifully sat on one of the beds, letting her wrap a tone of gauze around his stump.
"Severus." He said unsteadily, the potion master immediately jumping into action. His wand traced his stump several times, the wizard muttering under his breath as he did so. After a gruelling few seconds, he straightened and gave him a small nod.
"The curse is gone." Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief at that, but he knew the worst part was still ahead of him. Cutting the arm off might have been one thing, but regrowing it would be much, much worse. He'd once had two of his fingers regrown after a spell fight, and that had been a gruelling experience. He thus knew the next day and a half would be some of the worst of his life.
But for Harry, he would suffer unimaginable pain for much longer. He was determined to finish what he'd started. He wasn't just going to put this heavy burden on a mere child. He was Albus Dumbledore, and Voldemort wouldn't be the first dark wizard he was going to defeat. But mainly, he was going to do everything in his power to make sure he paid back the debt he accumulated to Harry.