Running AIAOY 7

Chapter 7

"Bloody hell!"  Harry whispered as he took over watch for Hermione.  Rebecca had clearly found a way to keep busy on watch--he was surrounded by an army of snowmen.  The locket clicked and whirred around his neck, not yet filling him with anger, only unease.

He sat and looked over Rebecca and Hermione's wands carefully, wishing he still had his own like he did every time he had to borrow one of theirs.  He had taken to borrowing both, using his time on watch to compare their strengths.  Harry had no idea how they were going to repair his wand.  He had only ever heard of two wandmakers, Ollivander and Gregorovitch.  It seemed to be a very career-specific skill to repair a wand, especially one cracked in half.

The fire crackled and Harry tossed another stick into it.  It was freezing.  More snow hadn't fallen since the first day they arrived in the Forest of Dean, but there was so much on the ground it hardly mattered.  The fact was only made more evident by Rebecca's means of entertaining herself.

As time slipped by, Harry checked his watch.  His watch had only gone on for two hours and he was struggling.  Movement caught his eyes, something flitting in the air near the edge of the firelight.  He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared at the wisp, leaning forward as it transformed into a patronus.  A doe.

Harry stood and let his blanket fall to the ground.  A sense of familiarity accompanied the doe and, as she turned to leave, Harry walked after it.  It kept looking over her shoulder, making sure that Harry followed along.  The doe went out of their clearing and through the trees surely, bowing its head to the floor before changing their course.

There was a string of ponds on the outside of their defences.  Over the biggest of them, the doe stopped.  Harry held Rebecca's wand carefully: it tended to do what it wanted in the hands of someone else.  It was the quicker option compared to Hermione's, however.  Hers only behaved for another if the spell was done perfectly.

"Lumos?"  Harry tried to cast.  Rebecca's wand must have either learnt that Harry could be trusted or agreed that it was too dark because it illuminated without issue.  Harry walked faster towards the doe as it turned back into the wisp he had seen first.  The ice cracked under his weight, but held solid as the wisp sank slowly into the center.

Harry crouched to one knee quickly, trying to stay with the wisp.  He felt a loss at the light's disappearance.  When he raised his hand off the otherwise opaque ice, there was a clear handprint.  He dropped his elbow to the ice and wiped away at the blur, making a window into the depths.  Something shown at the bottom.

The Sword of Gryffindor.

"Accio sword!"  Harry tried.  He wasn't entirely discounting the possibility that it was Rebecca's wand keeping the spell from being cast, but he also knew that that would be too easy.  And, as their trek had learnt, nothing was easy.

"Accio Sword of Godric Gryffindor?"  He sighed and stepped away from the window he had made.  Harry abandoned the idea of bringing the sword to him.  "Diffindo!"  A hole melted through the ice.  Harry looked at the trees around shook his head, "This is stupid."  He pulled off his jumper and then began to pile his clothes next to it.  "Really, really stupid."  Harry repeated as he stepped out of his boots.  He considered taking off the locket too, but leaving it out in the open seemed too dangerous and idea.

The ice of the pond's surface was a lot colder on his bare feet and he crossed his arms against his chest as he stood overlooking the hole.  His briefs did little to keep any of the chill out.  He dipped his foot in and pulled it back out immediately.  The water was so cold it hurt.  The sword seemed to taunt him from where it lay out of his reach.

Harry crouched down and, if someone had been watching, they would have seen a thing boy with his arms wrapped around his knees in nothing more than his pants in the middle of winter.  Harry took a quick breath and fell forward into the water.  To the invisible onlooker, the pond appeared to be alone once more.