Don't Wanna go - Part 2 - The War.

Chapter 9 - Being called upon...

Being on the run had never been easy, it had never been made to sound it in the books, made to look it in the movies and the real life stories that the three had heard of being on the run from the different people that they had met over the years, none of it had been made to sound easy. But being in it! Was a hell of a lot worse than anything they could imagine.

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed and tackled the boy to the ground. Harry had been about to react to the calling of the dark mark; having read up on what truly happened when you had it, Hermione knew that resisting it was almost impossible, and it was as physcially painful as it was draining mentally. But Harry had to resist, they couldn't have him being caught!

Ron came over and helped with Harry, settling him as he began to thrash and try to get out of Hermione's grip. The girl that the two boys had been best friends with for a little over 6 years now, was strong, very strong, but Harry was stronger, believe it or not.

Restraining someone, should not be that hard, but they had to stop him, and since he could do mental magic as well, it would be even harder, since they had to distract and get his mind onto different things. Ron had plenty bruises and hexes cast at him, from Harry and his duels, in order to train it. Hermione joined once in a while as well. Harry was more there to teach them and get back into the game.

But now, they had turned their backs to him for a mere second and he was about to fade away from them in order to react to the calling of the mark, it was like he was under the Imperious curse. "I will have to put him to sleep!" Hermione exclaimed and got her wand, quickly fireing a spell at Harry, his body going limp as soon as the spell hit him. "Bloody hell..." Ron muttered and got off of the boy; gathering some air into his lungs, his bruised ribs unhappy with him for doing so. Standing up, Ron scooped his best friend along, carrying Harry bridal style, back into the seemingly small tent, which was a lot bigger on the inside.

Hermione sighed and followed. They had only been on the run for a month... If Harry continued to be like this... She didn't know what to do.

---

It was nearing October now, Harry had figured out a way to suppress the need of going, every time there was a calling to his mark. Hermione drew a breath of relief from those news. "Well, what is it?" She then asked and Harry sighed. "I have to block my arm... So that it is like it isn't there. That way it will trick my brain into not recieving any callings and therefore none should pull to me." Ron furrowed his brows. "Block it?" He asked and Harry chuckled. 

Running a hand up from his middle finger, until he reached his elbow; slowly his that part of his arm started to fade away from view, making both Hermione and Ron very surprised. "It's still there, but I can't see it and I won't feel it. It will work as a lost limb..." Hermione's eyes widened and she nodded slowly. That was... Effective...

---

Going over plans and trying to bring up the mood, was all that was on their minds for the next long while. They needed to make sure they didn't fall into a patch of depression. Hermione had gotten her hands on a Bartle Beatles adventure Book for kids and had read them the story of the three brothers. Harry's eyes immediatly flicked to a ring he wore, before tuning back onto the story and Hermione's explanation of it.

"It is said that one who posesses all three hallows, controls death himself." Ron said and tried to sound spooky, which just made him get laughed at by his two best friends. "I'm serious! Mom read me and all my other siblings, those stories when we were little. She told us about the rumours and stories surrounding the legend and that if we were to ever stumble upon death, to just go with him as an old friend... That there was nothing to be scared of, because as long as you didn't fight it, he would treat you as just that, a friend."

Hermione and Harry, who were both raised in Muggle households, had of course not been introduced to these stories. Knowing fully well that a lot of the stories that had been altered more and more as time went for the safety of child minds and fantasies; the originals were no less grusome than this was. It was in all, just very disturbing to think about following death as an old friend...

Ron continued to tell them about the legend, and they both listened in carefully, pitching in once in a while when Ron either got sidetracked or was too confusing to understand, completely.Hot cocoa was sipped on as Harry leaned back in the chair in front of the small fire that had been made inside of the tent, of course with magic surrounding it, making sure it wouldn't get out of control. He was trying just to be in his own thoughts, but it was difficult. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts, he wanted to be able to share, specifically, with Draco.

It was tireing, being away from his mate and keeping up with all of the pain and depression that he himself felt on the daily basis, along with that of Draco's. He could not let his emotions effect Draco, making him have to use extra magic just to be sure of that fact. It was draining him, ever so slowly, but it was none the less.

Hermione, knowing that her boyfriend was asleep and that her best friend was troubled, stood up and ventured out there. Seeing Harry with his warm cocoa cup in hand, knees pulled up to his chest and eyes swimming with unshedable tears. Hermione knew she did right in leaving the bed, even if Harry most likely would disagree with her and make her go back to bed, in proclamations of being 'alright' and 'fine'.

This time though, Hermione was not gonna let him do that. She wouldn't allow her best friend to push her away just so that he could lock himself up within himself, like he had done all those years, while he suffered the abusive hand on his relatives.

Walking over, Hermione grabbed a cup and also took some of the hot cocoa, putting in a couple of marshmallows and pieces of mint, which stood on the table in small bowls. Sitting down, she noted that Harry had yet to notice her pressence, even though he was staring almost directly at her, off center by just a few centimeters.

"Harry..." Whispering softly, Hermione truly tried not to startle her friend, but of course there was no way around it. "Bloody... Sorry Mione... I was deep in my own thoughts... Did I wake you..?" He asked and the young witch smiled. "Of course you didn't, Harry... And it is quite alright. I just came over to see if you were okay..."

Harry shook his head and smiled a grateful smile, sipping on his drink. "I am very much okay... Just, sad I suppose." Hermione nodded and blew on her drink, carefully sipping it. "Want to talk about it..?" She asked, knowing that sometimes, it just helped to sit with someone while having the thoughts. "No... Not really..."

Harry answered, his eyes dazing over as he looked right past her once more, back in, with his thoughts. "Okay, I'll be here if you do..."