𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 [Harry James Potter]

Chapter 30: Seven Of Cups

Seven Of Cups

────༺༻────

Harry fell, panting, onto grass and scrambled up at once. He stared his blood-soaked hands.

They seemed to have landed in the corner of a field at dusk; Hermione was already running in a circle around them, waving her wand.

"Protego Totalum ... Salvio Hexia ..."

"That treacherous old bleeder!" Ron panted.

"You killed them, Harry! There was absolutely no need to do that!" Hermione joined them after casting protective enchantments.

"If I hadn't, they would have tried to kill us and don't pretend that they hadn't already killed hundreds of innocent people. They would have jumped in joy at the chance to string you up, simply for being a Muggleborn." Harry began cleaning his hands with a bottle of water.

"Don't you think I know that?! What happened to not resorting to unnecessary violence. You sliced that man in half!" Hermione yelled.

"Would you rather I had used magic?" Sarcasm dripped off of Harry's tongue.

"It's not nice, but they would have done the same or worse, Hermione." Ron tried to defuse the situation.

Hermione had been worrying that Harry had started to enjoy the killing and she was starting to believe it after what she had just witnessed.

"What about Luna?"

"Well, if they're telling the truth and she's still alive -" began Ron.

"Don't say that, don't say it!" squealed Hermione. "She must be alive, she must!"

"Then she'll be in Azkaban, I expect," said Ron. "Whether she survives the place, though ... Loads don't..."

"She will," said Harry. He could not bear to contemplate the alternative, it would mean he had to consider Vera's death all over again, despite her necklace's crimson hue.

"I hope you're right," said Hermione. She passed a hand over her eyes. "I'd feel so sorry for Xenophilius if -"

"- if he hadn't just tried to sell us to the Death Eaters, yeah," said Ron.

They put up the tent and retreated inside it, where Ron made them tea, Harry had no appetite... After their narrow escape, the chilly, musty old place felt like home: safe, familiar, and friendly.

As the weeks crept on, Harry could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption of trying to track down Vera, that Ron seemed to be taking charge.

"Three Horcruxes left," he kept saying. "We need a plan of action, come on! Where haven't we looked? Let's go through it again. The orphanage ..."

Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the Riddle House, Borgin and Burkes, Albania, every place that they knew Tom Riddle had ever lived or worked, visited or murdered, Ron and Hermione raked over them again, Harry joining in only to look for traces of Vera. He would have been happy to sit alone in silence, trying to read Voldemort's thoughts, to find out more about the Elder Wand, but Ron insisted on journeying to ever more unlikely places simply, Harry was aware, to keep them moving.