his chosen one | harry james potter

Returning to Hogwarts

florence pov

Hermione apparated us to a dark street in Hogsmeade.

What used to be a fun weekend activity that everyone adored, was now a dark memory I'd not like to revisit. 

We walked along an empty sidewalk. Not a soul was in sight.

"I much prefer you in my clothes than your mother's." Harry whispered as we walked, grinning as he did.

He looked ahead of us to see if Ron and Hermione were listening before he bent down to whisper; "But we both know I like you better without any."

Merlin, I wish we were back in our room at shell cottage right about now.

I had to refrain from smiling as the blush rose to my cheeks. "Even in the midst of a war you still manage to flirt. Truly impressive Mr Potter."

I laughed as he did a small bow and tripped up on his own foot.

Suddenly crows from the rooftops began squawking loudly and a bell began to ring.

"He's here! Spread out! Search everywhere!" A man called in the distance.

We all quickly split up, Hermione and Ron ducking under a nearby picnic table, and Harry and I in a dark alleyway.

After a few moments of silence, I peeked out to see three deatheaters searching around some picnic tables. The same picnic tables that Ron and Hermione were at.

I looked around me for something to distract them with. I picked up a small rock and threw it down the road, as far away from Ron and Hermione as possible.

The crows all flew towards the rock and the bell sounded once again. The deatheaters vanished, all running towards the noise.

I beckoned for Ron and Hermione to get up and follow Harry and I. We all ran down the long alley until we reached a gate. Ron tried to pry it open but it was no good.

We were trapped.

"In here, Potter." A voice whispered from behind us.

Harry immediately followed the man into his house. Ron followed after him, then Hermione. I sighed before following them into what could easily be the home of a deatheater.

As I walked past the man and into the house, I noticed he had a long white beard similar to that of Dumbledore's. For a second, I actually thought it was Dumbledore.

We all walked down a set of stairs and into a dimly lit room.

"Did you get a look at him?" Ron asked. "For a second I thought it was-"

"I know. Dumbledore." Hermione cut off.

I looked to a moving portrait on the wall. It was a girl. She was young, couldn't have been older than sixteen. She was standing in a field wearing an old looking blue dress from the nineteenth century. Next to the portrait was a mirror with Harry's face on it. The bottom of the mirror had a piece broken off of it. The same size as the mirror piece that Sirius gave to Harry.

"Harry? I can see you in this." I said, though it sounded like more of a question.

Harry walked over and held up his mirror piece to the part missing from the big mirror. It fitted perfectly.

How did the rest of the mirror end up here?

"You bloody fools." The old man insulted as he walked down the stairs. "What were you thinking coming here? Have you any idea how dangerous it is?"

"You're Aberforth. Dumbledore's brother. It's you who I've been seeing in here. You're the one who sent Dobby." Harry said in realisation.

"Where have you left him?" Aberforth asked as he walked over to a cabinet and began pulling out mugs.