Kassandra Bauer and the Deathly Hallows. (Book 7)

Chapter 17: Compromised.

Wilderness. Wales. (Kassandra P.O.V)

I woke up the next morning. And I tried to remember all the events that happened last night. For a moment, I thought it was all just some crazy fever dream, and I was going to find that we were all safe and sound. And Ron would still be here. 

But as soon as I turned my head on the pillow I could see Ron's deserted bunk. It was like Ron had died and we were on our own. Hermione was already in the kitchen, did not wish anyone a good morning, but turned her face away quickly as I went by. Harry managed a smile at me, but I could tell he was struggling with the fact.

There was nothing we could do now anyway. Ron was gone.  I wish things had gone differently. I really did. Malaka! 

Why couldn't we just take off that Fucking Horcrux? Why did Harry have to insist on wearing it? And our Protective Enchantments would mean that it would be impossible, once we vacated this spot, for Ron to find us again.

We ate breakfast in silence. Hermione's eyes were red and puffy; she looked as though she had not slept, which she hadn't. Then we packed up our things, Hermione dawdling. Harry and I knew why she wanted to spin out our time on the riverbank; several times I saw her look up so eagerly, and I was sure she had deluded herself into thinking that she heard footsteps through the heavy rain, but no red headed figure appeared and she saw nothing but rain swept woods. And I also remembered Ron's words: "We thought you knew what you were doing!" 

The Muddy river beside us rose rapidly and would soon spill on the banks. It was about a good hour after we would have usually departed camp. Finally after she repacked her beaded bag three times, Hermione seemed unable to find any more reasons to delay. So the three of us grasped hands and Disapparated, reappearing on a windswept heather covered hillside. 

The instant we arrived, Hermione dropped our bags and walked away from us, finally sitting down a large rock, her face on her knees, shaking with what I knew were sobs. I walked over to comfort Hermione. 

"Mione..." I started to say, sitting down beside her. And Hermione just started hugging me and then cried into my shoulders. I guess, there weren't enough words to say when someone you love leaves. Harry in the meantime, I assumed casted the spells Hermione usually performed to ensure our protection. 

We didn't discuss Ron at all over the next few days. Harry was determined to never mention his name again, and Hermione seemed to know that there was no use forcing the issue. But I did hear her crying at night. 

Harry in the meantime started bringing out the Marauder's Map and examining it by wand light. Probably waiting for Ron to return or something. But he never did, and after a while Harry found himself taking it out simply to stare at Ginny's name in the Girls' Dormitory. "Is... is Neville... there? By any chance?" I asked him one night. 

"He's there." Harry answered. "And Ryan."

That was a relief. I still clutched my shell necklace from last year. And I prayed to the Gods every night that Neville was safe. 

By day, we devoted ourselves to trying to find out where Gryffindor's Sword could be, but the more we talked about the places in which Dumbledore might've hidden it, the more desperate and far fetched our speculation became. I couldn't even remember Dumbledore ever mentioning a place in which he was hiding something. Sometimes I wonder if Ron was right all along and Dumbledore didn't really have a real plan for us. 'We thought you knew what you were doing... We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do... We thought you had a real plan!'

And so did I. But it was clear that Dumbledore had left us with virtually nothing. We discovered one Horcrux, but we had no means of destroying it. And in the meantime, Mater was rotting in Azkaban while I went on a wild goose chase while my brothers waged war.