The Dark Heir ∣ HP FanFic

two

Hermione was true to her word, and in a little less than five minutes, she and Ron were stumbling down the rickety stairs to meet Harry in front of the fireplace.

Ron was wearing a random hoodie with the hood over his head, with a messy ginger fringe peeked out. He looked as if he wanted to go back to bed.

Hermione looked much more awake than Ron, with a section of her hair clipped back into her bushy, brushed out locks. She wore jeans that appeared to be Ron's, for they were far too long and quite baggy. She had her wand at the ready in her right hand, and she was clutching a hanging purse in her left.

The three of them proceeded to walk for what seemed like half the night. Walking towards the forest, Ron took off his hoodie, now visibly sweating down his neck.

"What?" Ron said into the darkness. "I thought it would be colder than this!"

"It's mid July, Ron. How cold did you think it would be?" Hermione replied, obviously amused by his foolishness. It was true, it was mid July and the midnight air felt only fresh. The dim light from the Burrow's fire grew smaller, and soon the trio had trekked past the wheat fields, and had now arrived at the edge of the forest.

"Do you know which direction it is, Harry?" Ron said. His grogginess had worn off, and he now looked more alert and enthusiastic. The feeling in Harry's stomach - the warm happiness - had been growing stronger the closer they got to the forest.

"Harry?" Hermione said after moments of silence.

"This way," said Harry, and he began to walk towards the left. He didn't have a map, nor had he ever been in the forest before. He doubted any one of the Weasley's had ever entered it, either. But the feeling was now guiding him. He had been led into trusting whatever it was he was feeling, and he felt, inexplicably, that this was the right way to go. Hermione and Ron followed him anxiously.

The only noise throughout the forest was the cracking of twigs beneath the three's feet. There was no hooting of owls, or swaying of trees. The night was windless and still, and the forest was even more so. It reminded Harry vaguely of the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, which seemed to get more disconcerting the further you travelled. This forest, however, remained the same brightness, but the deeper they got, the more trees and leaves towered over the three. The moon became obscured, and only snippets of it were visible behind the thick canopy of trees.

"Why was it that you thought that a house elf had stolen the wand, Ronald?" Hermione asked abruptly.

"What are you on about-"

"The problem with wizards nowadays is that they think that they are so above everything else!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Wha- no! How did you even get tha-"

"It could have been another wizard. But no, you have to jump straight to the conclusion that house elves are to blame for everything!"

"Hermione, what are you - Harry, help me out!"

The two argued for the better part of ten minutes, with Hermione saying paragraphs upon paragraphs and making it seem as if she had already written a book about house elf rights and was reciting it, word by word. Ron was constantly asking Harry for backup, but to no avail. Harry was too preoccupied with following his instinct to find whatever witch or wizard wound up in the depths of the Burrow's Forest.

With an abrupt halt, Harry saw it. Two tree trunks stood about six feet apart, and in between them, a bed sheet, tied from each end. And even more, something heavy - something that looked a lot like the mass of a person, was lying inside.

"Shh!" Harry whispered. The fact that he was whispering alone was enough for Ron and Hermione to stop their bickering, and stared into the direction Harry was gazing at.