40 Days

December 21, 1997

Now that we were getting ready to actually do something, the days seemed to crawl by even slower. I half expected to wake up to Harry grinning at me with blood in his beard and hair again.

I had almost finished my store of draught of peace and I was so dependent on it I was worried how I would handle it. To calm myself, I pulled out my copy of History of Magic, trying to lose myself in the familiar text.

When Harry came up to me, his hand reaching out to slide against my arm, I shut the book looking up inquiringly, but he seemed to get distracted for a moment looking at the embossed cover of the schoolbook.

"Maybe we'll see her there, too."

"What?"

"Bathilda Bagshot. She lives in Godric's Hollow."

"What!" I practically shrieked.

Harry looked at me like I was crazy, but continued. "Yeah, one of Ginny's relatives at the wedding said that she still lived in Godric's Hollow."

It was looking more and more like my distraction ploy was even better than I thought, and might actually turn up something to help us. "What if Bathilda's got the sword? What if Dumbledore entrusted it to her?"

Harry looked at me skeptically. "She's ancient by now and the person who told me also said she was 'gaga."

"It's the only trail we have right now. We have to check it out."

Harry shrugged, clearly not invested in my logic, turning and walking towards the tent exit. "If Dumbledore did give it to her, then he left a great deal to chance. However, considering he gave me fuckall to go on, I suppose it might fit."

"Harry! Where are you going?"

He paused with one foot outside, looking back at me with glittering eyes. "For a walk."

"I'll come!" I said jumping up and rushing over him, but he stood there and held up his hand, holding me back.

"You're not invited."

I reached out to him, clutching at his shirt. "Don't—don't get hurt."

He smiled at me, and with a wink, walked out.