Blood In The Stars

6. Taking Cover

"We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have peoples names." -Nikita Gill (an instagram poet)

3674 words

Hermione woke to an empty, yet warm bed and finding herself not minding in the slightest. She went about waking up slowly, stretching as the sun had still yet to fully peek out from behind the edge of the world.

She took her bottle of water out onto the balcony, leaving the sliding glass door open so she'd hear George return from wherever he had gone, and sat. Letting the sun slowly greet her. It was just brimming the edge of being fully risen, when George slipped into the room.

"Oh, you've risen." George commented, stepping out onto the balcony. He looked around before dropping a paper bag onto the small coffee table between the two chairs. He was dressed in rumpled wear, as if he had merely thrown on a sweatshirt before slipping from the room.

Hermione wondered briefly if she had been snoring when he had risen, before deciding she didn't care if she had been.

"Where did you go?" Hermione asked, leaning forward to peek in the bag but George shooed her away.

"Breakfast, of course." He beamed, handing her a steaming paper cup. She sniffed it to find it to be some sort of tea, and as seemingly everything else was on this island, it was absolutely delightful.

"Fruit, waffles, fried eggs and potato cubes." George unloaded the contents of the bag onto the table, before handing her a brown paper plate and a plastic fork. They dished themselves up, relaxing back in their chairs as the world below them woke up.

Hermione stared at the trail head, the doubt creeping up on her steadily. This was certifiably insane, this was horrendous. They should have told Harry or hell, Neville Longbottom of all people what they were doing. What if they died?

Well of course they were going to die.

Either way they were going to die. If they found a solution or not.

It was the length of time between now and the inevitable that was questionable.

"Hey, did you pack the flower tea I told you about?" George's voice cut through her building panic, and she turned alarmed to see him kneeling on the ground, elbow deep in his backpack.

"I did, yes." Hermione coughed, remembering she had stowed it in the front pocket. Right next to the gauze pads and ointment cream for burns. Between bandages and gloves for contamination issues.

"And the lantern? I can't find the lantern." George pulled out what Hermione could only guess was at least a hundred bandages. She rolled her eyes at his antics, hiked her own bag further up her shoulders and pointed at the trail head sign.

"I've got it, now are you ready?" She asked.

George jumped up, shoving the bandages into his bag and haphazardly zipping it up before grinning, ear to ear.

"Yes!" He started for the trail, but Hermione hauled him back, pointing up at the sign.

"We're supposed to read this first, tells us about the dangers and the-" Hermione started, but George had already wandered off. Looking up at tree tops, and tapping his fingers against a tree trunk. "Fine, see if I care if you get eaten by a..a..snake." Hermione tilted her head to the side, gazing at the poorly drawn picture of a snake sticking it's head out of river.

She shrugged her shoulders, and turned to hurry after George.

They bypassed tourists, large families and local school children before George eventually found the beaten off path. They looked both ways, before ducking under a large tangled vine and soon they were on a new, vacant path.