𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟗𝟖 - 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙧𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙤𝙜𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙗𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩; the intimate patterned cushions, the smell of old polished wood with the view of the countryside passing by the window that he could enjoy, seeing the steam from the train's engine climbing over the top of the carriages whilst the steady furious chugging reminded him of an iron-clad red stallion - it no longer did. Each passing tree built up his anxiety, the thought of having to face yet another year of Hogwarts used to be something he looked forward to but without Phee, he dreaded it.

Yet Luna Lovegood seemed unfazed, which was small comfort to him.

"Quibbler...? Quibbler...?" she asked, as she walked down the carriage walkway with a bundle in her arms, she passed by their cabin and Harry noticed she was sporting a pair of pink 3D glasses, though he very much doubted that that was the glasses purpose. "There's an article on Wrackspurts this month. Quibbler...?"

The loitering students ignored her, except for Ginny who was watching her with a mild smile on her face, Luna seemed more interested in the purple pygmy puff perched on Ginny's shoulder.

"He's lovely. They've been known to sing on Boxing Day, you know.Quibbler?" she asked, offering one out.

"Please." said Ginny, taking the one from Luna's hand, making sure to graze her fingers as she handed Luna more than enough for the issue. "What's a Wrackspurt?"

"They're invisible creatures that float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy." Luna explained kindly with a sort of lofty smile whilst Ginny listened, until Luna grew bashful under Ginny's gaze, her cheeks flushed as she continued on quite breezily, "Quibbler? Quibbler?"

Meanwhile, in the cabin just beyond this interaction, was the Golden Trio cooped up.

And Hermione was pacing.

Ever since Sirius dropped the bomb on them just a few days prior, she had been adamant that there had to be something they could do.

"Surely there must be something we can do..." said Hermione for probably the fiftieth time, "There has to be something we're missing, something they missed -- it must be obvious, it has to be. It's probably staring at us, laughing at us and I won't take it! I won't! I won't take it lying down!" she proclaimed angrily, loud enough that it startled Crookshanks from his seat, his pudgy squashed face looked up at her grumpily from the floor of the cabin.

"Well we can't get involved remember?" said Ron sadly, "Harry isn't allowed to, he can't let him know that we know and that we're onto him."

"But we're not onto him!" exclaimed Hermione angrily, before perching herself on the edge of her seat to lower her voice so only the boys could hear her, "All we really know as that this was a set up, and that she's alive -- somewhere... anywhere... and that someone knew about her gift beforehand, have we gone over all of the possibilities?"

"Yeah we have, countless times..." said Harry impatiently as he put his head in his hands, "Right now all I'm getting from him is radio silence, can't even tell what mood he's in."

"That's good then, finally he's let that connection close--"

"It's not that, it's like he's just waiting in the dark for us to trip up, I don't like it."

"Wait, wait... say that again..."

"I don't like it?"

"No before that, the bit about tripping up."