Draco's sister

Chapter 15

Harry's disappointment didn't go away after he stood in the dusty kitchen, silent for what felt like hours, while Sera went back to search through the remaining cabins, pretending that their conversation never took place. Without saying a single word.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't want to end the conversation. He wanted answers, help to understand what he was supposed to do, to find the Horcruxes. Not standing in the middle of the kitchen rotted to the floor, without any kind knowing what to do, while the only person who may have the answers was ignoring him.

" Before he died." He began, his eyes on Sera, who had her back at him. "Dumbledore told me that Voldemort wanted his Horcruxes to be something he would see as valuable trophies or sentimentally important artifacts." He waited for a few seconds, hoping she would say something, a yes, a whisper, even a weak sigh to show that she heard him. But she didn't. She kept looking through the cabin until she found a larges pot that had been collecting dusty after not being used for a long time and put it beside the full sink of dirty dishes. Not showing any sign she heard him at all.

" He also said that Voldemort would have hidden them in places that would be important to him o...AHH!!." Out of nowhere, pain shot through the scar on his forehead, his scar burning like somebody was pressing a hot iron against his forehead, his vision became more blurry by the seconds.

" What...Are you alright?."

Harry could see Sera's blurry figure coming at him, but her panicking voice sounded miles away. Like he was drifting away, far away from her and the kitchen, until he couldn't hear her voice anymore or see the dusty kitchen in his godfather's house.

Instead, he was standing in front of a dark wooden door to small cottages, hidden under tall overgrown bushes that nobody seems to have taken care of for years. The only thing that gave a sign that somebody was inside the house was the light coming through the windows and the weak sound of a woman and a man talking.

Excitement filling his chest.

For weeks getting the information to this location was almost impossible, without any proper lead to the person who could give him the answer to find her. But he succeeded, something Dumbledore hadn't done after his little mistake.

Amusement filled his heart with a mixture of pride.

Dumbledore, the man who saw through Voldemort's lies from the start, apparently couldn't find a small girl who escaped through his gasps.

But what does it matter.

Dumbledore was dead, buried underground with no way of coming back.

While Voldemort was here, standing outside the house where the answer to his search was waiting for him.

Knocking the door with his pale hand, it wasn't long until a tall man with long dirty white hair opened the door with a look of irritation on his face, with his eyes closed.

" Go away!." Screamed the man with no trace of fear over who was standing on his doorsteps. " We don't want anything!." The man was on his way to close the door, not bothering to open his eyes to see if it was somebody he knew or somebody he should close the door so rudely.

But Voldemort wasn't going to be denied so easy. Stopping the door with his hand, he forced himself into the house.

" Didn't you hear me, I said.."

" Isobel Goder."

The man froze for a short second before looking red with anger.

" Friend of that old hag, huh?. Go to the dumpster and search through the mud she ain't here."

" Timothy, who is it?." A short woman with a larges brown birthmark on her neck appeared. She first looked at the man who mumbled insult under his breath before looking down the hall, and fear was visible on her face. " Oh my god."

" Isobel Goder." He said once again, glaring at the women. " Where is Isobel Goder?."

" I..I..I." The woman backed away, her voice shaking in fear. " I don't know she moved years ago."

" Don't lie."

" I swear, I don't know, haven't seen her for years."

What a disappointment this was a dead-end, a waste of his precious time. And these people were of no use for the world or him.

Greenlight filled his vision with the echoing sound of the women screaming in desperation one word in the hope to be left alone before she and the man lay on the floor like broken toys.

"Harry!."

Harry opened his eyes. His face pressed against Sera's shoulder, his hand clutching her upper arm in a death grip while they both were sitting on the dirty kitchen floor filled with old dirty and crumbs of the old food.

Her eyes stared at him, a mix of fear and shock.

" Harry, what was that?." Asked Sera, moving her eyes to the stairs looking like she was on her way to call for Ron and Hermione.

" No!." Said Harry with a firm voice, digging his nails deeper into her upper arms. " Don't tell them."

He didn't want to talk to Ron or Hermione. The only thing he would get out from it would be a harsh lecture from Hermione, who didn't understand how hard and impossible it was for him to keep his connection with Voldemort in check.

" Please," He said through his teeth, pressing his forehead against her shoulder while the pain continued. For some reason being near her made him feel slightly better. "Don't tell them."

Sera didn't say anything, while the only sound of Hermione and Ron talking in another room was echoing through the place.

" Harry," Sera said with a low voice, gently placed her hand on his shoulder. " Whatever reason you have for not wanting to tell your friends is your choice. But you can't go on like this."

Harry looked up at her, his eyelid heavy against his eyes.

"It's okay. I am used to it. It will go away soon." He tried to force a smile, but by the look from Sera, it apparent looked more like a painful grimace.

" You are a terrible liar." That was the only thing she said to him before moving one of her hands to his forehead, gently touching the scar with her finger.

Harry was shocked by her action and closed his eyes heard, ready to feel a strong wave of pain from the scar, like the time in the graveyard when Voldemort touched his scar with his long bone-white finger.

But the moment Sera touched his scar. He didn't feel any pain.

Quite the opposite, he felt warmth spreading through his head, erasing all the pain and tension he was having, replacing it with a pleasant warm feeling, relaxing his body and mind.

His grip on her upper arms loosened and pressed against her hand, wanting to get more of the warm feeling.

" Better?." Sera asked with a calm voice.

Harry nodded, his mind relaxed.

" Yes, a lot better."

" Good. Now, what in the world was that?. " Asked Sera, her voice hard while she stared into Harry's eyes, waiting for an answer. " You scared the living hell out of me."

"It's nothing." Said Harry looking away, trying to decide if he was going to tell her or not.